What a Gentleman Desires (27 page)

“For Trixie’s sake, I hope you’re right. Are you certain?”

“Yes.”
No, this is no nine-day wonder. And, win or fail—or die—no one will ever know
why
it happened.
“The problem we’re presented with now is more important, and it lies in the miles between us and the Manor. Will Trixie be up to traveling tomorrow?”

Daisy walked over to the bed and climbed the two stairs next to it to seat herself on the edge of the mattress. “I don’t know. She wants her husband, and he’s supposedly bringing your brother back here with him. If he finds him.”

At last Valentine found a reason to smile. “She always knows where we are. Her network of spies would put Perceval to shame. We all know that, just as all of us pretend we don’t. Poor Kate has had a near battalion of
watchers
quietly looking out for her all of her life. I’ve got Piffkin, or at least I did until he deserted me for your sister. A few years ago Gideon negotiated down to Thorndyke, his butler in Grosvenor Square, and Dearborn at the Manor. So you can rest assured, if she says Max is in Ostend, then that’s where he is. I’d tell you that’s a port near Brussels, but you probably already know that.”

“I do. I don’t suppose you wish to know it was originally called Testerep, and is only a few hours’ travel by boat if the weather is fair. A man could conceivably make the journey and return to England in the same day. And you don’t mind? Not that I’ve just shown off my vast and varied knowledge, but that Trixie has set spies on you all.”

Valentine hopped up beside her on the bed. “Not as much as I did a few years ago, a hot youth longing to kick over the traces, although knowing Trixie would find out if I went too far probably kept me from doing anything
entirely
stupid. Now I can’t help but wonder if she’s always feared the Society. She does know enough to make her dangerous.”

“Perhaps too dangerous to strike out at her. Not to be too dramatic, but is it possible she warned them she’d written everything down in a memoir of sorts, to be published if she were to come to any harm?”

“You’re right, that is dramatic. But entirely possible. I can’t think of anything that would force her to part with that information, unless I consider the four of us.”

“I’m certain she considered the same possibility.” Daisy leaned her head against his shoulder. “Poor thing. I hope you weren’t too much of a trial to her.”

“Yes, you can see how worn and gray she is. But now that she’s turned me over to your watchful care, I’m sure she’ll sleep easier.”

“I’m not going to be your
keeper,
Valentine. I’m going to be your wife.”

He slipped one arm beneath her knees and lifted her fully onto the bed with him. “But I need a keeper, Daisy. Only think of the trouble I could get into, without you to guide me. Or better yet, think of the trouble we two can get in together. Although, just to be different, next time you can rescue me.”

“I rescued myself, at least partway. You only just happened to be there when I...when I...”

“When you were letting yourself down from the window, having no idea where you were, where you should go, and not exactly appropriately dressed for a trek to the nearest village. Although I will say the men in the local taproom wouldn’t have complained.”

“All right, Valentine. You rescued me. My brave knight in his shining, no, his borrowed coat. But we’re not going to talk about that anymore.”

“Maybe not you, but I’ll probably mention it from time to time. I may even include it in
my
memoirs.”

He attempted to reach behind her back, to free her buttons from their moorings.

“Valentine, you can’t be serious. Taking me to bed, at a time like this? You do remember what happened today, don’t you? The danger your grandmother is in, the danger we’re in?”

“I remember. But I have loyal men stationed all about the mansion, and there’s really nothing we can do until morning, is there? I’m attempting to distract myself before I fall into a pit of despair. You could cooperate, you know. Perhaps turn over for me so I can get at these bloody buttons?”

Daisy laughed. No, she giggled, and then flopped over onto her stomach. “Just be careful. I’ve already ruined one of your sister’s gowns today. I doubt she’d be delighted to have a second one consigned to the dustbin.”

He worked diligently on the buttons while silently cursing the seamstress who had thought a gown needed so many; clearly the woman was an old maid with no idea of the trouble she was causing the men attempting a smooth seduction.

“Kate wouldn’t even notice. Thanks to Trixie’s love of the shops, she’s got more gowns than she can count. Here, in Grosvenor Square, at the Manor. Yet she nearly lives in riding habits and boots. If you think I’m the despair of my poor grandmother, wait until you meet my sister. There, that’s the last of them, on both gown and chemise. You can easily slip out of them now, under the covers if you like, and I’ll join you in a moment.”

“But I don’t want to move. And my shoulder aches. I think I may have wrenched it earlier, when I reached for Trixie. I think I’ll just lie here for a while. Now that I’m down, I’ve realized how tired I am. Besides, you never told me if you saw Axbridge, if he’s our man.”

Valentine was standing beside the bed, wreaking a fair amount of havoc on his evening’s attire as he stripped it off. Daisy was still on her stomach, her long back with its delectable
sloop
exposed in front of him. As for dealing with the rest of the gown—as he’d said, Kate had dozens and dozens.

“Oh, he’s our man, definitely. He’s got the arm in a sling at the moment.”

“I hope the wound is quite painful. And throbs incessantly,” Daisy said, turning her head to look at him, her expressive eyes widening when she realized he’d managed to get himself completely naked. But she didn’t look away, just as he hadn’t looked away when she’d stood up in her bath.

That was encouraging. She was getting used to him. But she still wasn’t shedding her clothes.

“He was coming out of his private bank when I saw him. I fought off a sudden urge to bump into his arm unintentionally once he stepped onto the flagway, and then look him straight in the eye and apologize if I’d caused him any pain, but I refrained. I should receive some sort of credit for that, shouldn’t I? Perhaps even a reward?”

“Pass me your slate and some chalk, and I’ll draw a star on it, for excellence. Valentine? What are you doing?”

He had climbed back onto the bed and was now straddling the tops of her thighs. “I’m ministering to your painful shoulder. Which one is it, by the way?”

“The right one. Ouch! Oh, never mind. That actually feels rather good.”

“I agree,” he said, kneading at her shoulders in between running his hands down and up the length of her spine. “You’ve got a beautiful back, you know.”

“Thank you. A little more to the left, if that’s possible?”

“Thank you? You’re not going to protest because I said you’re beautiful?”

“As I told your grandmother, I’ve decided to humor you. Why, I probably have a
gorgeous
back. Do I have a gorgeous back, Valentine?”

To answer her, he bent over her and began trailing kisses down her spine. He felt a slight quivering of her skin as he reached her waist.
Ah, she has so much to learn, so much I long to teach her.
He moved his hands down her one last time, and slid them beneath her lower belly, working his way toward her center, easing her thighs open...all while kissing and licking at the soft skin just below her waist.

They both heard the sound of ripping silk; he’d strained the fabric until one of the seams had split.

“Oh, Valentine,” she moaned, “and it was such a pretty... Oh. I...um...where are you going?”

He’d moved down her body, now straddling her at the knees. “Ridding you of the rest of it, as I’ve never considered patience to be a virtue,” he said, and suddenly the gown was nearly in two pieces, and the silk chemise, as well. The short cap sleeves of the gown still encircled her upper arms, and the gown hadn’t ripped quite to the hem, and he was suddenly remembering every gift he’d ever received from Father Christmas. Daisy was the best gift of all and he was unwrapping her.

Valentine leaned forward over her once more, placing kisses on her neck and shoulders, skimming the outline of her body with his hands, his knuckles brushing against the sides of her breasts, his arousal now skin-to-skin against her glorious derrière.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Daisy. I’d never hurt you. Just put your weight on your elbows, and come back toward me. Yes, Daisy, like that, just like that.”

He grasped her hips and lifted them, his knees now between her thighs, his manhood against her now and straining to be closer, be inside her.

She was ready for him and he slipped inside her, holding her tight against him, using his hands to rock her hips even as he began to move. He rocked her, feeling her surrender, recognizing her own need, perhaps even her surprise. Keeping one hand on her hip now that she’d found the rhythm, he used his other hand to spread her, to run his finger over the very center of her, feel her harden, swell with desire even as she buried her face into the pillows to muffle her small cries of pleasure. Pleasure he gave her, pleasure he took in return.

Perhaps, in a few years, he would take it slower, allow the passion to build. But not tonight. She was so tight, and he was so ready, and he knew the time had come.

He began to move faster, pulling her toward him, thrusting into her, quickening the pace as he marveled at her liquid heat. Faster. Deeper. More, more. More.

“Hold on, Daisy, just hold on,” he managed as his heart pounded and his mind deserted him and it was nothing but the ever-accelerating of his thrusts, one coming right on top of the other; faster, faster, nearly beyond his control.

Daisy cried out and he felt her body clench and unclench around him as he drove deeper, even faster...until he felt himself nothing but a blur of movement and the building, teeth-grinding need for release. He knew she felt that release when it came, as his seed pumped over and over against her womb.

They moved as one as they collapsed onto the mattress, Valentine sprawled on her back, Daisy all but gasping for air beneath him.

They were good together, better than good. They were amazing. Made for each other. Fashioned to complete each other. Their hearts even raced in unison.

“I love you, Daisy,” he said against her ear. “I want to marry you because I love you. I think I have from the first. That’s why I kept wanting you to leave...because if you didn’t go then, I’d never be able to let you go.”

She didn’t say anything, and he disengaged himself and half rolled himself onto the mattress, keeping one leg lightly lying across hers. “Daisy?”

“Did Trixie tell you to say that?”

He hadn’t known what to expect if he made a declaration, but it certainly wasn’t this. “No. Why would you ask that?”

Daisy somehow managed to turn onto her side, oddly to suddenly look completely covered, as the sleeves and bodice of her gown were still intact. “Because she told me I should tell you. As...as I’m clearly besotted. So are you, according to her. She said we should talk about that.”

“And now we’re talking about that?”

“Yes, I suppose so. Thank you for loving me. I love you back.”

Valentine smiled in real amusement. “You love me back. How long have you known you...love me back?”

Her expression remained deadly serious. He wanted to kiss her all over, and then start over again. “Since late this morning, while we were on our way to Bond Street. I’d never before considered myself to be the sort of person who’d ever fall in love, let alone marry. But you would persist, wouldn’t you.”

He stroked her cheek. “Redgraves are also stubborn.”

“And brave. And kind to children. And foolish. And funny. And quite good lovers.”

“How would you know?” he asked, recalling an earlier conversation between them. “You’ve only had the one, remember?”

“Because I know I could never bear to have another man touch me. I could never...
do
what you and I just did, not with another man. I can give myself to you without fear, without shame. And as Trixie so wisely pointed out to me, I have so much to gain when I give away my heart. I’m glad I could give it to you.”

Valentine wasn’t the sort who humbled easily, but he was humble now, in the face of all that Daisy had revealed to him.

“I love you,” he said, easing himself against her, touching his mouth to hers before pulling away slightly, to look into her soul-revealing eyes. “But you do realize we can never tell our children the story of how we met.”

Daisy laughed, and his heart swelled, and Cupid finally took his shovel and departed to bang some other thickskulled man over the head. Eventually the remainder of Daisy’s ruined gown found its way to the floor, and the fire slowly burned down in the grate, and two very lucky people slept in each other’s arms, the world successfully held at bay at least until they awoke.

EPILOGUE

T
HE
C
OOPERS
WERE
gone from the estate.
Every last man, woman and child: over forty in all.

Coopers had been part of the estate for more than a century,
generation after generation serving the Redgraves, taking wives and husbands
from the local population. Born on Redgrave land, died and buried on Redgrave
land. Giving birth to more than a few Redgrave bastards.

Only Angus Cooper had lingered until the day of Liam’s burial,
to kneel beside his grandson’s grave, his gnarled, crippled hands crushed into
fists around some of the freshly turned dirt. Redgrave dirt.

Everyone else had already returned to the Manor. Valentine and
Daisy, hand in hand behind Rose and Piffkin. Simon with his arm around a weeping
Kate. Gideon and Jessica, physically supporting her half-brother, Adam, who had
just lately formed a friendship with Liam. Richard Borders leaving only
reluctantly, but not moving more than ten yards away from his wife.

Trixie stood vigil with Angus, finding it impossible to leave
him, yet knowing she had no words of comfort for him.

Only questions.

She lifted the heavy black veil up and over her black straw
bonnet. “I can only imagine you were left behind to deliver some sort of
message, some sort of threat. As it was me one of you attempted to kill, I
convinced the others it was my right to hear what you have to say. You can speak
freely, and then you may just as freely leave.”

“I’m only here to pray for my grandson’s soul.”

Trixie heard bitterness in the man’s voice. Anger. And,
perhaps, accusation. If she were to have any chance at answers, she’d have to
tread carefully.

“Please don’t lie to me, Angus. We were friends, or at least I
believed we were. I know how much you adored Liam.”

The old man slid the handfuls of dirt into his pockets and got
to his feet. “No more talk. I only stayed to tell you that you can’t stop what’s
coming. Not this time. You especially were meant to know your enemy before you
died, and now you do. This time your meddling will have been for nothing.”

Trixie had been alive a long time. Nothing much had the power
to shock her, not anymore. But she hadn’t expected this.

She fell back on bravado, for it was all she had.

“We aren’t doing so badly, Angus. No matter who began this or
why, we’ll end it. And we will win. I promise you that.”

“We’ve had enough of Redgrave promises, too.”

Aware of Richard’s nearness, Trixie spoke softly, fiercely.
“What promises are those? The same insane promises Charles made, that Barry
made? A return of the Stuarts? You know that never would have happened. My
husband and son never spoke sense, they spoke greed, and treason, and sexual
perversion, and only playacted at royalty to cover their true motives.”

“The Stuarts? This was never about the bloody Stuarts for us.
No more questions. My grandson is dead. Kill me now, or leave me to grieve.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Grieve? You should be angry.
I’m
angry. Someone filled that young boy’s head
with lies and hate, and then deliberately sent him off to die as some...some
sort of
calling card
meant to terrify us. Whether he
succeeded or not, Liam was dead the moment he was sent to kill me. I didn’t kill
him, Angus, the Redgraves didn’t kill him. One of his own carries the blame and
the shame.”

He wrenched his arm free of her grasp. “Liam chose the short
straw. I would have gone in his place, but I’m too old now, too slow. You kept
your secrets, all these years. You protected yourself, destroyed anyone you
believed could harm you. I never thought you’d betray yourself, but how else
could your grandson have gotten so close? It was all you. It always has been
you.”

“You left me no choice. Yes, I told them what I know, even as
it nearly destroyed me. I protect my own, Angus, at any cost to myself. You send
yours out to die,” Trixie said, shaking her head as she backed up several steps.
“I didn’t choose this path, the Society did, from the very beginning. I won’t
allow you to blame me for Liam’s death.”

“
Death
is all over you, and has
been since the beginning.” The old man climbed up onto the seat of the ancient
wagon and took up the reins. His belongings, such as they were, piled up behind
him. “The great Lady Saltwood. You murdered your husband to be free of him. You
were protecting your son from his papa’s evil ways, you told yourself, didn’t
you? But when Lord Barry turned out to be his father’s son in spite of
your—”

“Trixie? Are you all right? Come along with me now.”

“I’m fine, Richard,” she called out quickly, willing her voice
steady. “Only a moment more, I promise. We’re just saying goodbye.”

Angus looked out over Redgrave land and the enormous, sprawling
buildings that were Redgrave Manor. There was satisfaction in his eyes at what
he saw, perhaps even love. “It was our work built all this, not yours. This time
it will be different. Twice denied, but not this time.”

“What does that mean?” Trixie asked, her heart pounding. “Did
Charles promise you something for helping with his damned Society? Did Barry? Do
you Coopers think you’re
owed
something? What are
you owed?”

And then the answer struck her, staggered her where she stood.
“You’re doing what they tried to do, aren’t you? You’re plotting treason, not in
exchange for a crown, but for the promise of Redgrave Manor? God, man, is that
what all this is about?”

Angus released the brake of the farm wagon and flicked the
reins so the single horse in the shaft began a slow walk toward the path to one
of the gates.

Trixie hiked up her skirts and ran after him. “Angus! We’re not
through! Angus, come back here!”

“Let him go, darling. He’s an old man, and harmless,” Richard
said, huffing and puffing as he caught up with her, for he was a man on the
shady side of sixty, with too many good meals behind him. “Come on, let’s go
back to the house and find us both a cup of tea.”

She nodded, unable to speak, and they started off.

Down the hill. To the tables set out on the terrace, where
Valentine and Daisy waited. Where Kate and Simon waited. Where Gideon and
Jessica and even her silly brother, Adam, waited.

Where everyone waited for Max.

* * * * *

With Redgrave Manor virtually under siege, it is left to
Maximillien Redgrave to locate and destroy the Society, once and for all. But
when the search finds him unexpectedly crossing paths with an old love, he can’t
be certain if she’ll prove friend or enemy. Can he risk his family, his country,
his heart and life, in the pursuit of the woman he’s never been able to forget?
Find out in
What A Hero Dares,
the thrilling and passionate conclusion to the
story of those scandalous Redgraves, coming soon from HQN.