His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2) Read online

  “Well, I am your personal lifeguard.”

  “Keeper, more like,” she snorted.

  “If that’s the way you would like to word it, then so be it, my dear.”

  “I tire of this conversation. I am going to freshen up and change out of my riding costume. Would you like to watch me or will you be content to sit outside, waiting like my faithful hound?”

  “I will ignore that last remark, if only to keep my own temper in check. But, mark my words, in the course of our meeting, you have called me a coward and a dog. While I don’t mind being called a faithful hound, as I have several of my own, I will not tolerate you ever calling me a coward again, do I make myself clear, my lady?”

  “Crystal. But since we’re laying out the rules of engagement between us, here are a few of my own. You will never ever tell anyone that my brother hired you to watch over me. I shan’t have them know that I need a keeper.”

  “So, you admit it. You do need a keeper.” He wouldn’t have to tell anyone that he was her keeper. He would simply tell them all that he was her husband. Aye. This woman had to be taken to the altar as soon as possible. She needed a husband to keep her in check.

  “I do not. I merely meant to say that my brother in his infinitely idiotic wisdom has decided that I do.”

  He chuckled. “Well, what do you intend to do when they ask you why I am following your every step?” He didn’t think this was the right moment to tell her that Mallory picked out her future husband for her. He wouldn’t have agreed to it had he not owed Mallory such a debt, and he did need to take a wife, and taking Lady Gemma as his wife would save him the hassle of having to attend a Season and select a suitable young miss from the marriage mart. Thinking of doing what some of his other mates had done made his flesh crawl.

  “That’s just it, isn’t it? I absolutely forbid you going through with this mad scheme. I don’t want you shadowing me and if you continue, I shall scream bloody murder. This is only a passing fancy with my brother. For a man he has an awful time with his whims and fancies. Elizabeth shall have him straightened out by tomorrow morning, and since I do not intend to emerge from my bedroom for the rest of the day, you can go back to whatever deep dark hole you crawled out of you seem like the sort of man who would have been stuck in an oubliette a few hundred years ago.”

  “I do, do I?” He stepped toward her, and before she could push him away, he’d swept her up in his arms. “Listen to me, Lady Gemma,” his breath fanned her face. He smelled of peppermint and licorice, “You will treat me with some respect. If you don’t, I shall teach you a few well-placed lessons.”

  “You are a beastly brute!” she cried, though her eyes snapped with interest. She wasn’t scared of him that was plain to see.

  “So I am a beastly brute now, am I? If I am such a brute, why do you look so bloody delighted to be in my arms?”

  She freed her one hand, pulled it back, and cracked him soundly across the jaw. His head snapped to the side. Without missing a beat, he pulled her to him, and kissed her, and that’s when everything went to hell in a hand basket.

  Chapter Three

  “Christ Almighty, what the bloody hell do you think you are doing, Campbell?” Mallory’s bellow almost shook the walls.

  “Campbell? So that’s your surname? Thank you kindly, brother.”

  Archie grinned. Soon it would be her surname as well. Gemma looked flustered and delighted all at the same time. He had done that to her, and he felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

  Gemma wanted to laugh at Elizabeth’s breathless exclamation. Come to think of it, she’d been delighted when she’d seen Mallory approaching them over Archie’s shoulder, she’d been expecting fireworks, and she’d also expected Mallory to read Archie the riot act. Even though Mallory looked infuriated, he hadn’t reacted physically like she’d wanted him to. Oh, how she’d wanted him to plant one hell of a facer on Archie but so far his response was only lukewarm.

  “How do you want to do this, Mallory? Shall I offer to marry her, or would you like to force me into it?” Archie asked. “I already have the license. All we need to do is name a time and a place. I think being married at your townhouse in Brighton would suit me.”

  “It would suit me as well,” Mallory said softly.

  Elizabeth gasped, and Gemma started to feel faint. God, she wasn’t a woman prone to fainting fits, but she just might require smelling salts today.

  “What? Elizabeth, what are they going on about?” She stepped over to Elizabeth, and stood resolutely with her, thinking her to be her only ally at this particular moment. “I think everyone has gone straight to Bedlam.” Shaking her head, she stared at Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked as shocked as she felt. But she also looked intrigued. Panic welled within her. She didn’t know if Elizabeth would be her ally on this subject. She looked far too taken with Archie herself, the charming Scottish rogue.

  “I don’t know. I had a feeling that Mallory had something shoved up his sleeve when it came to you, but I thought he was only going to stick you with a personal guard, I never dreamt he was trying to find you a more suitable husband.”

  “A more suitable husband? What do you mean?” Gemma demanded.

  “Oh, Gemma. Can’t you see that you are marrying a—well, how should I delicately put this, Duxford is a man I wouldn’t allow within six feet of my person. He makes my skin crawl. He is a lecherous lout and he covers it up with fake charm that for whatever reason you seem to fall for.” Elizabeth shuddered and pursed her lips.

  “Duxford is in sympathy with the plights that women face.”

  “My dear, he is only telling you what you wish to hear. In truth, Duxford has set his greedy eyes on the dowry that comes with your hand in marriage so, he’s spinning you a fine tale so you’ll take him as a husband thinking that you’ll be able to have the freedom you so desire without a man controlling you.”

  “I—how did you know?” Gemma demanded.

  “I knew from the very first moment you presented him to us as your fiancée. I’d always questioned Mallory and your mother letting you have a free hand when it came to seeking out your prospects but your mother is an eternal romantic, she wants you to find true love and she also didn’t want you to be forced into a match you do not desire. She is only acting like any good mother acts. She wants to see you happy. Unfortunately, the choice you have made will only deliver you heartache. We must nip your flights of fancy in the bud, dearest, or else you will end up serving a life sentence of misery—that’s no way to pay for your hotheadedness. Of course, you could always marry my cousin, Raleigh Drake. He’s not that bad of a match even with my aunt as his mother. He would make you a fine husband—although, I always fancied Ann and Raleigh making a match made in heaven.”

  “I despise Mallory for setting me up like this. Maybe…” she paused thoughtfully. “Maybe I could create a male counterpart for myself much like you did with Evan Beaumont.”

  “That…I had to create that alter ego. And you know that, Gemma.”

  “Raleigh dared you into doing it.”

  Elizabeth sighed heavily. “I relent, you are right. I was dared into doing it, and perhaps, I shouldn’t have but if I hadn’t all of our lives would have been very different right now. As for Mallory, he didn’t set you up, he just created the right situation for you,” Elizabeth explained, sighing nervously.

  “Like he did when he first met you?”

  “That was different. My father had served your family with a grave injustice, and you forget that Mallory and I weren’t exactly strangers to each other. There is a little thing called love at first sight, and it happened to us. Mallory might exasperate me to no end sometimes, but I know he is a faithful husband. He lavishes me with love, he treats me as his equal, and he loves our daughter. I couldn’t ask for anyone better to have as my husband. He lavishes you all with attention, and hasn’t attempted to reform your hoydenish behavior until now.”

  “Hoydenish? How can you say that, Elizabeth? You think pret
ty liberally and you do whatever you want, when you want. I suppose it’s all different for you. You weren’t born a lady! You were only the daughter of one, and you are lucky you had such a saint for a mother because your father is a bloody blackguard, having Geoffrey Woodward as your sire, lowers you in many people’s opinions.”

  Gemma regretted the harsh words as soon as she’d said them. Her slight against Elizabeth horrified her. Talk about speaking in haste before taking time to think! She was a shrew…she had no heart.

  Good God, she was an ice maiden.

  “I will pretend you didn’t say that. After all, you spoke in the heat of the moment. Just, as you always do. We are acting in your best interest. Archie will make you a most suitable husband, and someday, you will see that is true.”

  “Elizabeth,” Mallory walked toward them. “Don’t take her words to heart, darling, she’s just a true blue St. Martin, and we are quite famous for saying things we really don’t mean, just to make someone bleed.”

  “I know…” Elizabeth’s voice faltered.

  “Elizabeth, I am so sorry.” Gemma studied the pained look in Elizabeth’s dark eyes.

  “Of course, you are,” Elizabeth said softly.

  “I never meant to sound like such a little chit.” She reached for and clasped Elizabeth’s small hands between her long and tapered fingers.

  “You didn’t? Well, if you didn’t mean to, you certainly did a bloody good job of it, Lady Gemma.” Archie gave her a searing look. The way that he said Lady made her want to strike him, again.

  “The only reason people ever overlooked the piggish ways of my father was because he had overfilled coffers. I know where my true worth lies.” Elizabeth’s eyes grew pensive, and her gaze grew distant.

  Gemma didn’t like the way she was reacting. This was so unlike Elizabeth. Elizabeth usually had fire running through her veins. In the last few months, some of that fire had dimmed, she just couldn’t figure out why.

  “Now, Elizabeth, snap out of it! You are being too hard on yourself. You aren’t anything like your father, if you were, I never would have fallen so deeply in love with you.”

  “That is true. You did give me one hell of a run for my money and in the end, everything turned out for the best. I reformed a man of ill repute,” she whispered.

  “Aye,” he murmured, and by doing so, well, I won a priceless treasure, didn’t I?” Elizabeth stared up in complete adoration at Mallory. Gemma rolled her eyes.

  “That you did,” Elizabeth said softly. The gentle way that Mallory caressed Elizabeth’s cheek made a lump form in Gemma’s throat. Suddenly, the wide hallway felt as if it was getting smaller. The walls were closing in.

  Gemma shuffled away from the lost in love couple, and edged toward her bedchamber. She just wanted this dreadful day to be over.

  “Gemma.” Her heart sunk. Why did Archie have to remember her presence, when her brother and Elizabeth had seemingly forgotten it?

  “Now what?” she demanded, whirling to face him. He still looked like he wanted to whisk her into his arms and kiss her until she was senseless. Her lips tingled from his kiss and she sighed mournfully at the memory.

  “We still haven’t worked out the details of our relationship. I shall want to straighten out a few things before we are married.”

  “I shan’t marry you, sir. We won’t be seeing each other again after today.” Her heart pained. It had to be heartburn. She couldn’t feel anything for Archie, she’d known him for only a few hours.

  She slammed against the silk wall hangings. He had walked her into a corner. He was very adept at getting her to do something before she even knew she’d been duped into doing it. She tried to look past Archie at Mallory and Elizabeth.

  “Oh, I beg to differ with you on that point. You see, I want to have you—not just as a pretty bauble to watch over, but I want you for the rest of my life. I’ve been hit hard by one of Cupid’s arrows, and I’m not going to let go of you now. You are mine. Mine to keep, and nothing, nothing, could ever make me let you go.”

  She snorted. “Now you listen to me, sirrah. My brother would never allow me to marry you, you just aren’t suitable. You might be able to talk like a man of refinement, but I fear you are not. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on Earth.”

  “There you go again, Gemma. You are getting above yourself once more. I have to say, I will have to put a little bit of humble into that whole lot of self-importance you seem to tout so willingly. You wear your pride and your prejudice against others like a suit of armor. When you become my wife—those haughty airs of yours will have to go. You need to get off of that lofty perch of yours, my dear lady. As for Mallory’s blessing, he has already given it. In fact, you could say this was his idea. He wants me to marry you.”

  “Ah, but you forget. You cannot marry me without my consent. It isn’t as if you can hold me at gunpoint and make me marry you. No marriage in England is legal if it is done under duress. Do you really want to know why I’m marrying Duxford? Well, I shall confess all. I am marrying him because when I’m with him, I don’t feel anything. Not a thing. I don’t feel happy, nor do I feel sad, or despondent. With him my heart is safe. There is no possible way he could break it.”

  She caught the look of pity that shone briefly in his eyes. “Oh, you needn’t feel sorry for me. Mallory doesn’t know, or if he does, he doesn’t remember but I loved once. I loved deeply. That’s the problem with us, St. Martins. We feel deeply. So deeply that when we lose something we cherish above all else, we turn to ice. That’s why they call me the Ice Maiden in the ton. That’s how I earned that nickname.”

  “I’m sorry that the man you loved passed before you could marry.” He reached out for her. Sympathy for her plight washed over him.

  “Oh, he didn’t pass—he’s still quite a part of the living world,” she laughed, although it sounded hollow and almost unsteady to her. “Oh, if only I’d been so lucky. At least then, I could have remembered him with fondness, and maybe I would have allowed myself to love again—but no, he’s very much alive. He is married, and he has two children. Those children of his—they should have been mine, had he not turned out to be such a shallow, greedy, selfish little man. He only wanted me for my money. I suppose that’s the reason why most men and women marry. He made me fall in love with him. He whisked me off my feet. We built castles in the air together. We made so many wonderful plans for our future together. And, then, when he found out I didn’t have the sort of money he thought a duke’s daughter would have, when he discovered there would be no dowry…he broke things off with me. He risked the scandal, and I…I could have held him to a breach of promise, but I was so embarrassed, all I wanted was for it to all go away. To add insult to my already injured pride, he circulated the rumor that I had a heart made of ice. Other men viewed me as a frigid article and all shied away from me. Who would want a frigid wife? Don’t you see? I have been spoiled, but not in the way you might think. If I put on a façade of being inconsiderate, and petty, no one wants to touch me…no one wants to get close to me, and that protects me. It protects my heart and…my soul.”

  “I can protect you. I want you despite the way you act. You lash out with your tongue even though you don’t mean one word of what you say. Your tongue might be biting but I know that deep down in your heart of hearts, you are a good woman. As for you being frigid, I have enough fire inside of me to melt the coldest of hearts.” His words thrilled her to her core. She felt her heart racing in her chest, galloping away like a beautiful racehorse. “I’ve only known you for a few hours, and for some reason, I can’t imagine waking up tomorrow and not being able to see you. You have cast a spell over me, Gemma. You are quite the enchantress.”

  “You are just infatuated. I’m not blind to my outer appearance. Many tell me I’m a beauty so you’re just entranced with that. But beauty is only skin deep, Archie. You don’t want to touch my heart you would never break down the wall I’ve erected around it. You’d never be abl
e to melt the thick shield of ice that surrounds it.”

  “Oh, I’m good at breaking down walls you see, you’re not the only one with an illustrious family history. My family is an old and much revered clan. We have noble minds, and noble hearts, and our fighting spirit won’t ever let us give up even when we’re facing defeat head on. I’m not going to let you push me away and I’ll be damned if I let you marry that shell of a man, known as the Earl of Duxford. He’s got a colorful reputation among the men of his class. They know what he truly is and you would not want to be his wife. He would treat you like…well, he’d treat you like you belonged to him. He would treat you like his slave. Trust me, he’d take far more from you then he’d give. If you truly wish to be his chattel, then, go ahead and become his wife. I suppose you’d have to deal with your lot once you were legally bound to the man.”

  “My brother always tells Elizabeth that she belongs to him. I see no difference in the way that Mallory thinks of Elizabeth when compared to the way that Duxford shall regard me.”

  “Aye, but he doesn’t mean it in the same context as Duxford would mean it. He means that Elizabeth’s heart belongs to him but Elizabeth has willingly given him her hand, and her body and that would never change.”

  They both turned their head at the sound of commotion coming to them from down the hall.

  “Seamus, I told you, that we didn’t need to come and ask for Uncle Mallory’s permission to start building that treehouse.”

  Gemma looked up at the sound of Charles’s voice. Charles was the wayward boy that Mallory had brought home to them. They’d gotten Elizabeth and Charles. Elizabeth and Mallory had since adopted Charles and taken him in as their own. He was a bit older now than when he’d first come to them, but still just a boy, and still full of mischief. She smiled fondly. He reminded her of Malcolm. Even though Mallory claimed that Charles was not his by blood, Charles certainly resembled the St. Martins.