Leo pressed his hand to her bottom. “If I had any, it would be a novelty to fulfill your request.”
“You’re a rogue to suggest such a thing.”
“Yes.” He turned toward her and gathered her close. “But I wasn’t the one to mention it, madam.”
“You make me think and do very wicked things, Leo. I daresay it’s your fault I even suggested such a thing.”
“That I agree with. Now, come, before we are distracted in here as we were on the field.”
When they entered his room, he lit a taper and placed it on a desk. “Make yourself comfortable. I need to retrieve something.”
He disappeared in the room beyond his chamber. She assumed it to be a dressing room. She picked up the candle and looked around the large room. The walls were a fairly light color, indistinguishable in the amber glow of the candle. The bed had four tall posts; she ran her fingers over the grooves of the pineapples carved into the dark wood pillars. It was an unusual design. Perhaps he’d shipped it over from the Americas or the West Indies.
A quilt was folded on an upholstered bench at the end of the bed. Sheets of soft pale satin covered his mattress, perfect for the summer climate. An array of pillows at least three deep adorned the head of the bed. Genny toed off her damp slippers and curled her toes into the plush carpet beneath. Turning, she spied a large painting set above the mantel. It looked to be a family portrait. A young Leo sat in his stepmother’s lap. Her hair was dark. His father stood to the left with one hand around his stepmother’s shoulder; his other hand was held forward and clasped in Leo’s smaller hand.
“I was five when that was done. My stepmother said it was a miracle the artist finished it at all since I could barely sit still long enough for him to make significant daily progress.”
“It’s a lovely portrait. I only have a small locket, each side containing a painted image of my parents.”
Leo pulled her hair over one shoulder and rubbed his knuckles over the little bone at the back of her neck. He kissed her there. “I have something for you.”
His arms came around to the front of her, and he held out a gold chain with a ring dangling from it. As he clasped it around the nape of her neck, the weight of the ring fell to mid-breast. She picked it up and looked at the filigree ring. Three large gems were lined up in the center and delicate details swirled in gold around them.
“They’re garnets. It’s the ring my father gave to my stepmother. I’m giving it to you.”
She turned in his arms, tears filling her eyes. “I can’t possibly accept something so meaningful and cherished by your family.”
When she reached behind her to unclasp and remove it, he stayed her hands.
“Yes you can. It will soon be your engagement ring.” He paused, as though waiting for her to gainsay him. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” His thumb wiped away the dampness from beneath her eyes. “What is all this crying about?”
She smiled through her tears. “I can’t help it. I worry that Lord Ponsley will be against our union .”
“Then we will forget formalities and ride for Gretna Green.”
Gathering up the ring and chain, she tucked it beneath her night rail. “Thank you.” She stepped up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth just as the clock struck two. “We have to go back.”
He placed a light shawl around her shoulders and led her back to the Carleton Estate.
It wasn’t a night Genny would ever forget.
On reaching her room, she whispered in his ear, “Thank you for tonight.”
“And every night to come.” He kissed her quickly on the lips before ushering her into the safety of her room. She poked her head out to watch him walk down the corridor to his own chamber. A shadow caught her gaze but when she turned toward it, there was only a sheer curtain blowing in the breeze of an open window.
Chapter 19
Now for that scandal I promised … It has finally unfurled and is blooming into something so salivating that I can hardly contain my excitement. A certain duke, broken off from his mistress for well over a year now, has been spending an inordinate amount of time at the residence of a new lady. This is no courtship, dear readers, but a liaison if the extended late hours are anything to judge by. What man would steal into the back of a house—through the servants’ entrance no less—if it weren’t for something forbidden?
The Mayfair Chronicles, August 4, 1846
There was no doubt in his blasted mind—because really, what had he been thinking before now?—that he had to tell Genny the full truth. Even though he’d decided not to go through with the wager, or however the hell one defined his agreement and involvement in this charade, he still had to confess his intentions. This wasn’t something he could keep from Genny any longer. She had a right to know the truth. And to judge him for said truth.
And he had to be the one to tell her. Because, so help him, if she ever found out through another source, there would be no chance for forgiveness. This was assuming she’d forgive him. Last night had been meaningful for them both, though, so perhaps it would hold some weight in her final judgment against him?
They lay in his bed together; Leo traced teasing lines over her shoulder and her side. She brushed her fingers in small circles over his chest. The weight of the ring he’d given her lay between them.
The slow tick of the mantel clock was a constant reminder that the night was growing late. This was, he imagined, worse than a countdown for a public hanging. Time stood painfully still as he tried to find the words to tell Genny the whole truth. He had to stop stalling and spit out the hated words.
His arms wrapped tightly around her, and he kissed her as though this were the first and last time he’d have the opportunity to do so.
He pulled away from the kiss slowly. “The hour grows late.”
She looked up at him with those forgiving, innocent eyes and it made him hate himself a little more. “I wish I could stay all night.”
“I wish the same thing.” He pulled away from her and reached for his trousers tossed near the bed on the floor. With a reluctant sigh, she gathered up her chemise and pulled it over her head.
“We only have a week left,” he mused aloud.
“Don’t remind me that our time grows short.”
He pulled his shirt over his head and took Genny’s hand and tugged her down to sit on the edge of the mattress with him. “There is something that needs to be said between us. Before you leave tonight.”
“You sound so solemn and very serious.” She rested her head on his shoulder and took his hands in her own.
Looking down at her, he saw the ring he’d given her around her neck. It glared at him accusingly. Would she forgive him once the truth was out? Would she still go through with the marriage?
It was hard to find the right words so he started at the beginning. “Do you remember when I asked you how you knew Lady Charlotte?”
She sat up and looked at him. Her happy, sated demeanor vanished and puzzlement filled her normally inquisitive expression. “Yes, I recall that day.”
“You were right to distrust me when we first came upon each other at the Randalls ball.”
She slid her hands away from his and folded them in her lap. He felt the loss of her touch like a slap to his face.
After a moment of silence, she said, “Precisely what is it you’ve done?”
He didn’t wish to expose anyone else’s involvement in the Lady Charlotte charade, but there would never be a chance at forgiveness if he didn’t reveal everything.
“Tristan and I made a wager of sorts.”
Leo watched her expression closely. Her smile completely vanished, and it was as though she were already putting the truth together for herself.
“What have you done?”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “Lest you judge me for any harm where your cousin is concerned, know that I made sure the wager wouldn’t succeed.”
Genny folded her arms over her chest. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”
“When the Earl of Fallon passed, he left Jez in quite a state.”
“And what has this to do with my cousin?” Her tone was clipped.
“He left Jez without a centime to her name. Mr. Warren stands to inherit everything that is rightfully hers.”
“With her reputation, I don’t understand how you think her deserving of Fallon’s fortune.”
Leo reached for her but she evaded him by leaving the bed. “She’s a better sort than I ever was, Genny. Society has painted a less forgiving picture of her. This is what often happens to the fairer sex when they are treated as equals among men.”
“You’ll not convince me of her good name.” Genny wiped away the few tears that trickled down the side of her face. “Now tell me the rest.”
“She remains the dowager until Mr. Warren takes the seat, marries, and sires children of his own.”
She moved farther away from him. “And Charlotte stands to inherit everything that was once the dowager’s.”
“Yes.” Because Genny had figured out the truth on her own, it didn’t make telling the rest any easier. Regardless, she deserved to hear the whole sordid tale. “We were to court your cousin and sway her decision to marry Mr. Warren.”