The Genuine Article (20 page)

She shook her head vehemently. "No, I cannot accept that. You cannot be made to pay for a favor that I asked of you. I know you think me a vulgar fortune-hunter, but please do not insult me in this way."

Furious, Reginald slammed the book back on the shelf. "I am offering you and your sister an opportunity to seek affection instead of wealth. I would not have my friend suffer for your greed. Obviously, Darley is worth a great deal more than your necklace, and he is titled, as well. Are you so greedy that you would make his life miserable in return for what he can do for you?"

"I have no intention of making his life miserable!" Marian's voice raised an octave, and she glared at him. "He likes me, even if you do not. Why can you not see that he is happy and leave him be?"

"He is not happy!" Reginald roared. "He has a harpy of a mother and two for sisters. They tell him what to do night and day, and he is too good a fellow to say them nay. You will only add to his long list of nags and make his life hell. I will do everything within my power to prevent that happening!"

"Is that why you are forever tempting my temper? Do you think to expose me as a shrew and make him take a disgust of me? How very considerate a friend you are! Did you hope he would come upon us when you kissed me today? Is that what that was all about? I have wondered, you know, but I am not a complete fool."

She was practically standing beneath his chin, daring him to admit the truth, and he could not admit it even to himself. Without a single coherent, logical thought, Reginald halted her tongue by putting his arms around her and clamping his mouth to hers.

He felt her start of surprise. Her hands pushed ineffectively at his arms. But her mouth was an unwilling victim that he tortured unmercifully until he felt her surrender. He would teach her there were more pleasant things to do with her tongue than wield it in anger.

Reginald had not meant things to go so far, but once she was in his arms, he could not seem to set her aside. Her lips learned his lessons quickly, eagerly. Her hands began to cling to his arms rather than push. She resisted the persuasion of his tongue at first, but as her breaths came more rapidly, she could no longer fight him.

He felt the shock of his invasion ripple through her, and it drew him closer to taste more. He had never experienced a woman as innocent as this one. The pleasure of her response was greater than he could ever have imagined. He craved more, and his hand slid naturally up her waist, to the curve of her breast that had tempted him all evening.

She sighed against his mouth. Her breath was sweet and intoxicating, and Reginald pressed his hand upward that last little inch until his thumb rubbed the pebbly crest of her breast beneath layers of thin cloth. The jolt of shock rushing through her at his touch caused an equal throbbing in his loins, and he could not have separated himself from her now had he wanted. He pressed his kiss deeper and thrummed her sensitive nipple until she was melting in his hands. She had no defenses against him, and he wanted it that way.

The little capped sleeve slid easily from her shoulder. He knew just where to find the ties of her chemise. Reginald lifted her breast from its concealment just as he lifted her from the floor to bring her to the leather couch behind him. Marian clutched at his neck, and sank into his lap when he sat down. If her head was spinning as much as his, they both needed to sit down.

The lamplight was dim, but Reginald used its small illumination to admire the breast he had freed from confinement. He smoothed the skin and played a tune upon the crest that had her wriggling with small cries against his already aroused flesh. It was time to put a stop to this, he knew, but not without one more kiss. He could not remember when he had acquired more pleasure by the simplest of sight and touches. He could not release the moment completely just yet.

That was his mistake. Had he set her aside then, allowed her to whip him with her tongue, no one would have intruded. But the protracted silence after the earlier explosion had aroused too much curiosity. Unfortunately, Reginald's mind wasn't on anyone but Marian at the moment.

* * *

Darley clenched his fist and gathered his courage to storm the library. He had only the dim light of one lamp to shatter his illusions, but he had heard enough of the earlier argument to understand what was happening behind the back of that couch now. The hand closing around his arm caught him by surprise.

He looked down into the terrified expression of Miss Oglethorp. The hall was much better lit than the library, and light danced off her golden curls as she turned a pleading gaze to him.

"Please, don't," she whispered. "It is all my fault. I was supposed to be the one to make a great match, but I have been much too timid. Marian means only to take care of me."

That was an extremely odd way of looking at what was happening in there. Darley couldn't see the other couple in the distance very well, but it hadn't precisely looked like a wrestling match when Montague had lifted the lady from her feet.

He needed to act quickly, but he couldn't just ignore Miss Oglethorp's pleas. Her timidity had caused him to overlook her more than once, but in these last days he had come to understand and respect her a little better. One did not completely ignore a lady's requests.

"I am not blaming Marian. I blame Montague. Go back to your mother. We will be there directly," he whispered, trying to keep one eye on what was happening in the library.

"But you heard what they said. Let me go in there. Marian never meant to hurt anybody, I know it."

Her voice was breathless and Darley wished he could shove her aside, but she was the only voice of reason in a vacuum of pain. He was having difficulty sorting out his feelings. His very best friend was making love to the woman he wished to marry—in order to protect him. He wanted to kill them both, but he wanted to weep for the loss of what he thought he'd had. He was being torn in two, but violence presently had the upper hand.

But he could do nothing in front of Jessica. "I will do nothing to harm your sister. It is Montague I mean to kill. He has done this deliberately."

A look of alarm flashed across her face. "You cannot! You will have to leave the country. Please, do not. We will think of something. There must be some other way."

"Before he ruins your sister completely? I think not." But a plan was already forming in his head, one that almost made him chuckle if he were not hurting so badly. Montague had never wished to marry. His friend had frequently pronounced he had no desire to have his independence crippled by a woman. He was just about to have his words thrown in his face.

To Darley's surprise, just as he pushed his way past Jessica and stepped into the room, an unfamiliar voice spoke from the distant wall by the fireplace. Both figures on the couch leapt apart at the sound.

"I thought perhaps I ought to put in an appearance so you could make your offer before the fact instead of after," the strange voice said dryly.

All eyes turned to the far shadows where a tall, lean male figure leaned against a shelf, twirling the large world globe at his fingertips.

Reginald recovered first, leaning over Marian and adjusting the sleeve of her gown, returning her to the couch while keeping his eye on the stranger. She was shivering, and he kept his arm around her, even though his own heart was pounding—more from nervousness than fear. The situation looked very bad.

"I don't believe we have been introduced," he answered coldly, refraining from using so much as a "sir" to this stranger who had walked in on them like this.

The intruder gave the globe one last twirl and stepped forward to light a lamp on a desk. The flare of flame twisted shadows over his visage, and Marian gasped and sank farther into his arms. Reginald held her reassuringly, while knowing his best choice would have been to put all the distance in the room between them.

The light of the lamp flickered over a tall form garbed in a loose coat without tails, trousers that did not pull taut over his legs, and a pair of boots that looked as if they had seen better decades. Nonetheless, he stood there in perfect arrogance, arms crossed over his broad chest, as if he were the marquess himself.

Marian gasped as she studied his face. He
was
the marquess himself. The features were almost exactly the same as her father's portrait, only her father would have been nearing fifty now and this man could scarcely be thirty, the same age as her father had been when the portrait was painted.

A twisted version of a smile crooked his lips as he watched Marian's recognition. "Very good, little cousin. I have been admiring your intelligence, although I have cause to doubt it under current circumstances. The man you are clinging to is a rascal who needs to be shown how to behave."

He tilted his head in Montague's direction. "I believe your customs here are similar to ours, but as I have no friends in this country, I request that we dispense with seconds. Would you prefer pistols or swords?"

The gasps from the doorway warned them they were no longer alone. With a reassuring pat, Reginald stood up and faced their audience.

Darley finally broke free from Jessica's grasp and marched into the room, his face a mask of anger. "If anyone challenges the bastard, it will be me. Marian, leave the room, and take your sister with you."

Jessica darted between the two men and placed her hands on her hips. "Stop it. This is silly."

As an argument, it left much to be desired, but as a deterrent, her action worked. Darley halted. Marian, naturally, leaped up, although she kept her arms crossed as if holding herself together.

Montague kept his gaze on his best friend. "It would be better if you went to your room, Lady Marian. I'm quite capable of dealing with this."

"No doubt," she said dryly. "But entertainment here has been lacking until now. I do not wish to leave just when it is becoming interesting."

Reginald wanted to laugh. He could almost see her expression as she spoke. He might be fighting for his life within hours, but Marian's irreverent tones made it all seem quite reasonable. He just feared his laughter would stir Darley to greater lengths.

The mysterious intruder had no such fears. He chuckled as he walked up to this little tableau. "I am beginning to think I like my little cousin too much to saddle her with a loose screw like you, Montague. Where I come from, we don't always wait until dawn to level these things out. There's a set of pistols over the mantel. Let's just check them out now, shall we?"

"Who the devil are you?" Unaccustomed to being ignored quite so obviously, Darley shoved Jessica behind him. He looked as if he wished to do the same with Marian, but she stood between Montague and the stranger, glaring at them and paying Darley no attention.

"Lord Darley," she said, acknowledging his presence without turning, "I believe I ought to introduce you to my cousin, the Marquess of Effingham. Unfortunately, I cannot give you his name since he has not seen fit to introduce himself to his family, but I think we could settle on something obvious, like Bumble-headed Ninnyhammer."

Marian's scathing tone brought another crooked smile to the stranger's face. He made a slight bow to the surprised company, "Gavin Arinmede Lawrence, Eighth Marquess of Effingham and all that other rot, at your service, sirs." He straightened, and his smile disappeared. "And now you will all get out of here while I straighten out this ruffian?"

He grabbed Reginald by the coat collar, jerked him backward, and slammed a fist into his jaw.

Chapter 17

As dramatic action, the punch was quite credible, Marian decided as Darley tried to drag her away.

Instead of staggering backward and falling when the marquess released his collar, Reginald lunged, slammed his fist into her cousin's abdomen, and sent the marquess into the bookshelves. Marian was forced to sidestep hurriedly.

She would have been forced to leave just to remove Jessica from danger had not Reginald immediately stepped back, dusted himself off, and halted the fight before it really started. Taking his cue from the Englishman, the American marquess straightened and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Not bad from a spineless womanizer. Shall we move on to pistols now?" the marquess inquired.

Marian lost her patience. "That is quite enough! You have no right to come in here after twenty years and make claims to a family you have never bothered to know. I am quite capable of looking after myself, and I will thank you not to interfere. For my mother's sake, I ask that we be allowed to remain the night. We will be gone in the morning and you need not concern yourself over us anymore."