To Pleasure a Prince (18 page)

“Answer the question,” he commanded. He stroked her hard, and a groan of pleasure erupted from her that turned to a moan of disappointment when he didn’t repeat the motion. “Despite my beard and all that,
what?
What was your real reason for agreeing?”

“Because I found you fascinating!” She pushed her hips up against his hand to urge him to continue. Her frustration grew acute when his hand continued to lie still, and she snapped, “I desired you, all right? Now
please,
Marcus, please…”

“All right, dearling,” he murmured, as her words at last sank in. He not only renewed his motions, but lowered his mouth to hers. “All right.”

Then there were no more questions and no more words, just his marvelous mouth plundering hers while his marvelous fingers caressed and fondled and thrust, stoking the flames, feeding the need until an explosion of light and color and white heat consumed her, body and soul. He swallowed her cry with a bold, hot kiss.

As she convulsed against him, clinging to his powerful arms, arching into his firm hand, he tore his mouth free of hers to rain kisses over her flaming cheeks and chin and neck.

“Ohh…Marcus…” she whispered when she could find her voice again. “That was…that was…”

“Sweet heaven?”

“Yes.” She fought to catch her breath as the flames died to a warm glow of contentment. “Is that…is it always…”

He nuzzled her neck. “Sometimes. Not always. Though it helps if the man knows what he’s doing, and the woman—”

“Behaves like a wanton?” Shame set in as she came back to earth, to the steady rumble of carriage wheels, the rush of air past the windows…the whisper of silk against silk as Marcus inched her skirts down past her stockings.

“Desires the man,” he corrected.

She opened her eyes hesitantly, half-afraid of what she might see in his face. If he’d wanted revenge for the dratted wager, he’d found the perfect way to take it…making her beg for her pleasure.

But no gloating showed on his face, just that ever-present hunger that never seemed to be assuaged.

She sat up on his lap, guilt assailing her when his bulge thickened beneath her squirming bottom. “Is there anything I can do to…well…” How did one ask such a thing? “To make you more comfortable? You know…down there?”

He uttered a strained laugh, then pressed a kiss to her temple. “Not unless you want to be ruined in truth.”

She drew back to stare at him. “Can’t a man find satisfaction from having a woman touch him the way you touched me?”

Rampant desire leaped in his face. “He can. But that would not be wise now. If you touch me like that, I doubt that anything on this earth could make me return you to Almack’s. And we both know I have to return you.” He lifted her off his lap, setting her on the seat opposite him as a resigned note entered his voice. “I only pray that we’ve not been gone too long already.”

“And if we have?” she asked.

His gaze met hers, ardent and intense. “Then we’ll marry, of course.”

She caught her breath. “You would marry me? The sister of your enemy?”

“I don’t believe in making women pay for the sins of their male relations. And you know there’s no other solution.
If
we are caught, that is.”

“If
we are caught,” she echoed.

When she said nothing more, he frowned, then commanded his driver to return to Almack’s. As the coachman brought the carriage round, Regina busied herself with restoring her clothing to its proper condition, trying not to think about the ramifications of what Marcus had just said.

Marriage to Marcus. For one heady moment, the thought of being Marcus’s wife tantalized her. Then reality sank in. Her problems would not go away just because he made her his wife. If anything, they would increase.

He watched her a moment in brooding silence. Then he cleared his throat. “If our tête-à-tête results in your ruin, we
must
be married. Surely you see that.”

“Of course. It’s just that…well…I had never intended to marry.”

He eyed her skeptically. “Never? Are you serious?”

“Perfectly serious.”

He was silent for a moment. “That’s why you refuse all your suitors.”

“Yes.”

“Why would a woman in your position, who could have any man she wanted, make such an absurd choice?”

Because I’m damaged. Because my children might also be damaged. Because I could not bear to see the disgust in your eyes if you discovered it.

She forced a lightness into her tone. “I’m simply as spoiled as you claim; I’m used to having my own way. But married women have no such freedom. Only the most indulgent of husbands will allow his wife to go where she pleases when she pleases, to stay in town as long as she likes with whatever friends she chooses.”

He stiffened. “I doubt
I
could be that indulgent a husband.”

She gave a hollow laugh. “You aren’t even an indulgent suitor—as a husband you’re likely to be a tyrant.” When he bristled, she added softly, “I’m only teasing, Marcus. But be honest—you would try to keep me shackled by your side in the country all the time, wouldn’t you?”

When he glanced away, she knew she’d hit on the truth.

“You would try to choose my friends, too,” she went on. “I know you would. For one thing, you would probably forbid me from seeing His Highness at all or going to parties where he might appear—”

“Damned right I would.” His gaze shot to her, intensely protective. “I’d never let that devil within ten feet of anybody I cared about.”

Her heart began that silly pitter-patter again. “And you…care about me?”

“You really need to ask?”

“I suppose not.” She busied herself with drawing on her gloves. “If I can sneak back into Almack’s without being missed…what happens then?”

“I’ll tell you what does
not
happen. If you won’t marry me, then we do not meet alone like this ever again. We do not court, and we do not kiss.” When her surprised gaze shot to him, he said, “I won’t endure it. I want you too badly to dance attendance on you like all your other conquests, when all you want from me is a bit of fun.”

“That’s not true!”

“Isn’t it? You don’t want to marry, yet you behave like a woman who does. What should I make of that?” His voice grew bitter. “Unless this is how you refuse all of your unacceptable suitors—by claiming you don’t want marriage when you really just don’t want marriage to
them.”

“I would never be so dishonest.”

“Then you’d better hope you’re not compromised. Because if you are, we
will
be married, your objections notwithstanding.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, that promise hanging in the air between them. She considered telling him the truth, but it was too shameful to admit, especially if they were parting ways. And if they weren’t…she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

As they approached Almack’s, she grew heartened by the lack of a crowd outside. Only a single carriage was there, taking on passengers. But her relief lasted just until she recognized the carriage’s ducal crest.

Marcus’s coach had barely halted when the door was flung open by none other than her brother. His face was alight with anger.

“Come out here, you blackguard!” he roared at Marcus.

“Gladly.” As Marcus disembarked, he shot her a glance that said he would be true to his word.

Despite everything, her heart leaped at the thought. Ignoring her brother, who fumed beside him, Marcus helped her out as if nothing were wrong. That seemed enough to convince her brother that she’d gone willingly.

“Damn you, Regina,” Simon growled. “How could you behave so foolishly?”

“It seemed the only thing to do at the time,” she retorted, oddly giddy now that the worst had happened.

A small smile touched Marcus’s lips, but Simon turned livid. “This is not a joking matter—”

“Leave her be,” Marcus put in firmly. “She’s not at fault for this.”

“Damned right she’s not,” Simon snapped.
“You
are at fault, and you will be the one to make this right, or I swear I’ll see you at dawn in Leicester Fields.”

“Don’t be silly, Simon—” Regina began.

“Marcus!” cried a voice beyond them. Louisa clambered out of the other carriage and ran toward them.

It was Marcus’s turn to be livid. “Damn it, Louisa, what are you doing going off alone with this devil?”

“Not alone,” Simon retorted. “Cicely?”

Cicely stuck her head out of the carriage. “Yes?”

Simon smiled grimly at Marcus.
“I
had the good sense to take a chaperone.”

“We were just going to look for you and Regina,” Louisa said in a breathless rush. “Miss Tremaine was worried and—”

“Where are the Iversleys?” Marcus interrupted. “They’re supposed to be your chaperones.”

“We couldn’t find them,” Louisa said. “And anyway, Miss Tremaine was perfectly suitable—”

“For Foxmoor’s needs, yes.” Marcus glowered at Simon even more fiercely. “You knew Miss Tremaine would turn a blind eye if you made a stop at…say…Carlton House.”

“Carlton House?” Louisa put in. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Simon said hastily. Too hastily.

Regina eyed her brother with suspicion.

He ignored her. “Stop trying to deflect attention from your own misbehavior, Draker. I want to know what you plan to do about this insult to my sister.”

Marcus took Regina’s hand. “Regina and I will marry. We’ve already discussed it.”

“How wonderful!” Louisa cried.

Although Cicely looked panicked, a calculated smile touched Simon’s lips. “Good. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“I’ll
make the arrangements,” Marcus countered. “If you’ll tell me your solicitor’s name, I’ll—”

“Wait!” Regina cried. This was all going so fast. And her conversation with Marcus in the carriage had unsettled her more than she’d expected.

Both men frowned at her.

“What is it?” Simon asked.

She tugged her hand from Marcus’s, knowing that what she was about to say was outrageous. Of course she had to marry him; a crowd was already forming beyond them, and it would take no time for them to figure out what was going on. A few questions to a footman, and they would all know—

No, she could not survive a scandal like that. Society was her whole life, and if it cut her off, she would go mad. But neither could she endure being locked up in the country for months at a time with Marcus. Especially when he found out the truth about her, which inevitably he must.

She ought to tell him now. But what if he backed out of his agreement to marry her? Then she’d be ruined, an outcast. She wouldn’t let that happen. She would rather be a sacrificial virgin than a woman of no honor. Besides, marriage to Marcus didn’t have to be a sacrifice if she took precautions.

“You’re marrying his lordship,” Simon said firmly. “You have no choice.”

“I understand, but—” Regina took a deep breath. “He must agree to certain conditions before I’ll consent.”

“Under the circumstances,” Simon snapped, “you can’t ask for conditions.”

“Let her speak.” Marcus glanced warily at her. “Tell me what you want.”

She gazed beyond him to where Cicely stood frozen in shock. “First, you must allow Cicely to attend me at Castlemaine. She can no longer live with Simon in what will now be a bachelor household.”

As relief spread over Cicely’s face, Simon rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about Ciss. I’ll make sure she has a comfortable position at one of my estates.”

“No, I want her with me.” A plan had begun to form in her mind. If Cicely could be there to help her read and manage the household, she might never have to tell Marcus of her problem. “His lordship must take her in.”

“Fine,” Marcus said. “Castlemaine is a big place. There’s plenty of room for your cousin. Anything else?”

She swallowed. He would have trouble with her next condition. “I want a house in town. And the freedom to reside there when I wish, especially during the season.” When his brow lowered, she added hastily, “You may stay with me, too, of course. But if you won’t let me have my jaunts to town, I can’t marry you.”

“The hell you can’t,” Simon cut in. “Father might have tolerated your willfulness, my girl, but—”

“It’s all right,” Marcus interrupted. “I’ll agree to that condition, too.” She turned a grateful smile on him. Then he added, “But I have two of my own.”

She tensed.

Simon lifted his eyes heavenward. “What the bloody hell are
yours?”

“The first is that your sister agrees to be faithful to me.”

Regina glared at Marcus, thoroughly insulted. “Of course I will be faithful.”

Marcus’s gaze locked with hers. “I mean faithful for life. Not faithful until you bear an heir and a spare. I won’t tolerate any infidelity, discreet or otherwise. I know how your fast friends view marriage, but I view it differently. No matter what the scandal, I won’t hesitate to divorce you if I learn you’ve been unfaithful even once. Do you understand?”

She notched up her chin. “Perfectly. And I repeat,
of course I will be faithful.”

He searched her face and seemed satisfied by what he saw there, because he then turned to Simon. “My other condition is for you, Foxmoor.”

“I will settle upon Regina whatever you require—”

“It’s not about money. I will agree to marry your sister. But only if
you
agree never to see mine again.”

Beware hotheaded young gentlemen.

—Miss Cicely Tremaine,
The Ideal Chaperone

M
arcus stood steadfast against Foxmoor’s black scowl and the instant protests of the females. This was an enormous gamble. By some amazing good fortune, he’d caught Regina, and he wanted to keep her. God, how he wanted to keep her, in spite of her damned conditions.

But the sight of Foxmoor preparing to head off with Louisa had ignited his temper. Clearly the duke had been using the excuse of Regina’s disappearance to whisk Louisa off for a rendezvous with Prinny.

Well, never again. He would make sure Louisa was free of Foxmoor forever.

“That’s my condition, Foxmoor,” Marcus repeated. “You leave Louisa alone, or there is no marriage between me and your sister.”

“Go to hell,” Foxmoor hissed.

“It’s not negotiable.”

“Then I’ll see you at Leicester Fields at dawn.”

“Fine,” Marcus answered. “I don’t care how I get rid of you, as long as you’re out of my sister’s life.”

“Enough,” Regina put in, her face pale as milk. “This is absurd. No one is fighting anyone.”

“Marcus, you’re being utterly unreasonable,” Louisa added as she came up beside him to lay her hand on his arm. “I won’t let you fight Simon.”

“Then say good-bye to him, angel.”

“You cannot think I would agree—”

“I’m your guardian,” he snapped, “so you will agree to whatever I say. And I say that you may no longer see this scurrilous scoundrel.”

“This will accomplish nothing,” Regina whispered.

He glowered at her. “I agreed to
your
conditions. Now your brother will agree to mine, or I swear I will not marry you.”

Her chin trembled, but she faced her brother all the same. “Tell Lord Draker that you agree to his condition.”

“I will not! I’ll fight the bloody wretch first—”

“You won’t.” She cast her brother a pleading glance. “I am not going to be the subject of endless scandal for years because you insist on fighting a duel. His lordship is being an idiot, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him die. Or you die. Or both of you die.”

“There can be no duel,” Louisa agreed, as Marcus had known she would if brought to that choice. She stepped up to Foxmoor. “It’s all right, Simon—agree to what he asks. In two years, I can marry where I please. I love you enough to wait for you until I come of age. Then there will be naught he can do to stop me.”

Marcus started to retort, then noticed the blood draining from Foxmoor’s face. Two years would not suit the duke’s purposes. For whatever reason, Prinny seemed intent on bringing Louisa into his circle
now,
not in two years.

A slow smile spread over Marcus’s face. “Do you hear that, Foxmoor? She
loves
you enough to wait.” His tone grew snide. “And I’m sure you love her enough to do the same. I tell you what. I can be generous. I’ll amend my condition. If the two of you stay apart until Louisa turns twenty-one, I will give you my blessing. By then, I’ll be sure that you truly love her.”

Foxmoor cast Marcus a foul glance.

“That sounds reasonable to me, Simon,” Regina said.

At the steely note in Regina’s voice, Marcus swung his gaze to her. She was staring at her brother with a strangely disillusioned expression.

A rush of relief hit him.
She knows. She may not have known of her brother’s intentions before, but she knows now.

“And if you will recall,” Regina went on with that same weary voice, “I won our wager, which means that
you
must formally ask for Louisa’s hand and abide by her brother’s answer. I believe he has just given it.”

“I haven’t said you’ve won. I don’t call one successful night at Almack’s meeting our terms.”

Until now, Marcus hadn’t quite believed she’d been telling the truth about the terms of the wager. But apparently she had. Oddly enough, that cheered him. If she’d been looking out for Louisa’s interests from the beginning, then there was certainly hope for them.

“You said he had to turn into a gentleman suitable for society,” Regina retorted. “And he did.” When Foxmoor groaned, she added, “Besides, Louisa has just now entered society herself. It won’t hurt her to see more of it before she becomes a wife. So why not wait until she comes of age?”

Foxmoor glanced uneasily from his sister to Marcus, but the man clearly knew he was trapped. If he pressed the issue, he would have to explain to Louisa why he was in such a hurry to secure her. Yet by amending his condition, Marcus had ensured that Louisa would abide by it, too.

“Do you agree?” Marcus prodded.

Foxmoor hesitated, then bit out, “I agree.”

“You must swear it on your honor,” Marcus demanded.

Foxmoor’s eyes gleamed with anger. “I swear it on my honor. There, is that good enough for you?”

“I’m satisfied,” Marcus retorted.

“Thank you, Simon,” Regina said.

And that’s when it hit Marcus. He was getting everything he wanted—marriage to Regina
and
Foxmoor out of Louisa’s life.

A smile broke over his face. “This calls for a celebration,” he said, feeling suddenly magnanimous. He held out one arm to Regina and one to Louisa. “Come, ladies, we might as well return to the assembly room and dispel any nasty rumors that might have begun. We have a wedding to announce.”

Hours later on the ride home with Simon and Cicely, Regina stared out the window, her mind in turmoil.

Part of her was ridiculously delighted to be marrying Marcus. The other part couldn’t stop thinking about the unsavory discussion that had led to it. When Marcus had made ending his sister’s courtship a condition for their own marriage, Regina had wanted to strangle him. How could he humiliate her like that?

Then she’d seen Simon’s face, and an awful suspicion had begun to plague her. It would not go away. She didn’t dare voice it until they were alone, however, because she could be wrong. She prayed she was wrong.

As soon as they arrived at the town house Cicely went off to bed, and Regina and Simon went to her sitting room. She chose her words carefully to avoid putting him on his guard. She needed honesty from him, if such a thing existed.

“I want to thank you for your sacrifice, Simon. I’m sorry you have to postpone your marriage plans because I acted foolishly. I feel so guilty for putting you in that position—”

“Nonsense, dear girl, you’ve done me a favor.”

“I don’t see how.” Unable to look at him, she walked to her writing desk—her useless, ornamental writing desk—and pretended to search for notepaper. “Now you have to wait two years to court Louisa.”

“Do you really think I shall stop courting the girl because your idiot betrothed makes me swear not to?”

No, she didn’t. Unfortunately. “So you plan to see her behind his back?”

“It’s perfect. After your marriage, you’ll go off on your honeymoon—”

“Honeymoon?” she squeaked, temporarily distracted from her questions.

“Of course you’ll have a honeymoon trip. Why shouldn’t you?”

Oh, Lord, a trip alone with Marcus. Without Cicely to help her.

She shook off her panic. She would talk Marcus out of it somehow. And even if she couldn’t, how much reading could she possibly be expected to do on her honeymoon? Honeymoons were for—

She blushed. Perhaps she could manage it without Cicely, after all.

“As I was saying,” he went on, “while you’re on your honeymoon, I can easily arrange to see Louisa and convince her to go against her brother’s wishes.”

His words brought her forcibly back to her suspicions. Her awful suspicions.

“If I have her compliance,” Simon continued, “it won’t even matter when you return, since you’ll keep Draker happily distracted at Castlemaine while I—”

“Arrange secret meetings between His Highness and Louisa.”

A shocked silence was her answer.

She turned to face him. “That
is
your plan, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her temper exploded. “Don’t lie to me! Because of you, I involved myself with Lord Draker, so I think I deserve the truth.”

He shot her a defensive glance. “His Highness merely wants one damned meeting with his own daughter—”

“His daughter?” Regina said. “Louisa is the prince’s daughter?”

“Of course. Why do you think he wants to offer her a place at court?”

“Marcus said nothing about her being his daughter. And I thought his mother and the prince were estranged that year.”

“Yes, but you know Prinny. There was a chance encounter, and as usual he…er…indulged himself. And Louisa was born nine months later.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean she’s Prinny’s.”

“Her mother said that she was, and he believes her. But her bloody ass of a brother doesn’t want to believe it, so he won’t permit any meeting between them. And His Highness insists that he tell her about it himself in person.”

I’d never let that devil within ten feet of anybody I cared about.
“So you and the prince hatched this faux courtship to deceive the poor girl into—”

“Your Draker left us no choice, damn it!”

“No,” she said, her stomach roiling. “He was too clever for you. He told me all along that this was your plan, but I never believed him. I couldn’t imagine that you would be so underhanded.”

Her brother’s eyes narrowed. “Then you don’t know me very well.”

Betrayal sliced through her. All the things she had done, everything she’d set into motion, and all so he could…could…what? “Why, Simon? Why does His Highness want her at court so badly that he would perpetrate such a deception?”

“Stop saying that! It’s not a deception. I’ve made no offer for her.”

“You might as well have. Your every compliment was a promise. Tell me, Simon, have you kissed her?”

His face looked thunderous. “That is none of your concern.”

“So you kissed her. And led her to believe—”

“I did what I had to for my regent, yes.” He explained about Princess Charlotte and her impending marriage.

With every word, Regina’s stomach sank a little more. “I suppose you get some reward out of this.”

He stiffened. “I plan to be prime minister, Regina. That has always been my aim, as you know.”

Her hands began to sweat. “So did you ever intend to marry Louisa? Did you love her even a little?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is.” She thought of her friend, professing her love to Simon so innocently tonight. “You love her, or you don’t love her. Which is it?”

His features grew stony. “I did not ask her to love me. It was not part of my plan. I can’t help it if she—”

“Believed your flatteries to be sincere? Thought that your attempts to see her were motivated by truly tender feelings? How
could
you?”

“You have no right to point the finger. Did you have any feelings for Lord Draker when you agreed to his courtship? Or were you just using the poor man to get what you wanted?”

“The only thing I wanted was
your
marriage. Besides, Marcus and I both knew our courtship was only a bargain.” At least it had started out that way. “Louisa knew nothing of your true intentions. And what are they, anyway? At least tell me that marriage to her is part of your ‘plan.’ ”

He tensed. “You know perfectly well Louisa would not make a good prime minister’s wife.”

“Oh, Lord!” She felt complicit in something dirty and wicked even though she wasn’t complicit in the least. “You
lied
to me when you accepted that wager. You never even intended to marry her.”

“You said I had to ask formally for her hand and abide by his decision. Since I knew he’d never accept me, I was in no danger.”

“No, only Louisa’s heart was in danger.”

“If she deluded herself that I meant to marry her, that is not my concern.”

“Not your—You danced attendance on her, flattered her, gave her gifts, and Lord knows what else while always intending to tell her in the end that it meant nothing. What kind of wicked creature
are
you?”

He glared at her. “One who serves his future king with complete loyalty. As every subject should. As
you
must.”

She shook her head. “You’re daft if you think I shall look the other way with this. I shall not let you continue to deceive—”

“You will do whatever I say.” He stalked toward her, his handsome features alight with determination. “You will keep silent about my plans, you will keep your bloody husband entertained, and you will let me finish this without any interference. Do you understand?”

“I will not!”

“You will. Or I’ll tell your precious ‘Marcus’ you were part of my plans all along.”

The blood drained from her face. “You couldn’t be that cruel.”

“I could, trust me. If you tell him—or Louisa—what’s going on, I’ll tell him you knew from the beginning. That I sent you to his house to distract him and maneuver it so I could get close to her.”

“He won’t believe you,” she whispered.

Simon laughed harshly. “The man trusts you so little that he made your fidelity a condition of marriage. He
belabored
the point. Do you really think he would trust you in this?”

“He would.” But even she didn’t believe it. As recently as this evening, he’d accused her of being part of Simon’s plans. If Simon confirmed those suspicions, Marcus would surely take his word for it.

“If you’re so certain of him, go ahead and tell him all,” Simon said coldly. “See what happens. Just remember that after I reveal how you’ve betrayed him,
you’ll
have to live with the consequences. If you tell him before the wedding and he chooses to believe me, then there may be no wedding. That should really enhance your standing in society. And if you tell him afterward—” He cast her a grim smile. “I do hope all those rumors about his dungeon are false.”

“I hope they aren’t,” she spat. “Because when he finds out what you’re doing, he will surely throw you into it. And starve you for a month.”

For a moment, he looked shaken by her bitter words. Then he steadied his shoulders with a condescending smile. “Now, now, you really shouldn’t talk that way. Blood is thicker than water, dear girl.”