Chapter 25 #4
Ian could scarcely breathe, his throat was so tight with pride and love.
She’d said she wouldn’t disappoint him. Then she’d gone on to surpass all his expectations.
How had he got so lucky? To find the most wonderful woman in London when all he’d sought was someone to give him an heir.
He didn’t care what happened now, as long as he got to keep her.
He looked for her again and spotted her in close conversation with Lord Jameson, another notorious gossip. No doubt she was laying further seeds of doubt on the most fertile ground.
As if she felt his gaze, she looked up, saw who surrounded him, then flashed him a tentative smile, as if trying to determine if he’d approved of her tactics.
He put as much feeling into his answering smile as he could manage, and her face glowed.
He felt other eyes on them, but could think only of her.
And how badly he wanted to get her home and make her ‘behave most improperly.’
Suddenly, he caught sight of someone approaching her, and his smile vanished. Uncle Edgar, damn him. “Excuse me a moment,” he murmured to his friends and hurried toward Felicity.
His uncle said something to her and then they both headed out of the ballroom down a hallway toward the private rooms. Which was just as well, Ian thought as he followed them. What he had to say to his uncle was not for others’ ears.
He found them entering a parlor off the main hall.
He hurried toward it, but slowed as he approached the open door and heard his uncle say, “You wouldn’t listen to me, would you?
You had to take up with him. You had to defend him and make me appear the fool.
Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself, Lady St. Clair.
” He spoke the courtesy title with condescension.
“You and your naiveté. When you hear the whole truth—”
“I know ‘the whole truth,’” she said fiercely. “He’s told me all of it. What’s more, if I’d wanted to tell it to the world, I would have made sure you came off sounding like the vermin you are.”
Ian paused at the door, curious to see what his uncle would say to that. There was a short silence, but Felicity wasn’t finished.
“The fact is,” she continued, “I don’t want to tell the whole truth—I have no wish to cause my husband further pain. But if you ever reveal what happened that night in your bedchamber, I won’t hesitate to denounce you publicly for the wife-beater you are!”
“That won’t prevent my nephew from going to prison for murdering my wife!”
“You might be surprised. I’m sure your former mistress—who detests you, by the way—would be happy to claim you were the one who pushed your wife.
And I’m sure any number of your servants could attest to your sordid habits.
So go ahead, try accusing Ian of murder.
And Miss Greenaway and I will make sure you go straight to Newgate for it. I won’t let you hurt him anymore!”
“There are other ways I can hurt him,” he said in a sly voice that sent a chill down Ian’s spine. “I wonder how my nephew would feel to discover me lying with his wife? Shall we find out?”
Ian surged through the door, slamming it back so hard that his uncle whirled around in the process of reaching for Felicity. “Touch her,” Ian warned, “and I’ll tear you into so many pieces they’ll never find you!”
Felicity had never been so happy to see her husband in her life.
Though she undoubtedly could have used her knee trick on his uncle to great success, she much preferred to have her husband at her side for this.
“There you are, my love! I was just telling your uncle how delighted I am to have joined the Lennard family. But for some reason, he refuses to congratulate me.”
“Come here, Felicity.” Ian kept his fierce gaze on his uncle. “We’re expected in the ballroom. Our friends are probably looking for us right now.”
“Probably,” she said cheerily and joined him at the door. Now that Ian was here, she was beginning to feel quite pleased with herself. She’d made her point with his uncle and had the distinct impression that he would hesitate to bother them any further.
She laid her hand in the crook of her husband’s arm, and he covered it with his, squeezing it. His gaze swept her quickly. “Are you all right?”
“Perfectly all right,” she reassured him.
He returned his gaze to his uncle. “I’m warning you, Uncle Edgar—I protect what is mine. If you ever come near my wife again, there won’t be enough left of you to bury. Do as you wish with me but leave her alone. Is that understood?”
His uncle glowered at him. “We’re not finished, you and I. Chesterley may yet be mine. You still have to bear an heir.”
“Believe me, I have every intention of it.” Ian gazed down at his wife, and there was no mistaking the love in his gaze. “So we’d best get right to it, don’t you think, my darling?”
“Oh, certainly,” she said, beaming up at him. “We must start on it at once.”
They left his uncle behind, cursing them both loudly.
Before they could reach the ballroom, however, Ian whisked her into what looked like a study and shut the door, driving the bolt to.
“What are you doing?” she asked, startled by the sudden thunder in his expression.
“You must promise never to let that man get you alone again. If he’d hurt you, I swear—”
“But he didn’t.”
“Promise me, Felicity! Or I’ll keep you locked up in here until you do. And the Strattons might find that odd in the morning.”
“I promise,” she said softly. She’d only gone into the room to have her say with his uncle, and now that she’d had it, she need never see the wretch again.
He visibly relaxed, but when he made no move to leave, she added, “Shouldn’t we return to the ballroom now?
You said our friends were expecting us.”
“I lied. Besides, there’s another matter to discuss.”
“What’s that?”
Eyes gleaming dangerously, he trailed his fingers over her cheek. “I hear that you consider me a most ‘troublesome husband.’”
She sucked in a breath. How much had Sara and Emily told him? Could he have disapproved of her methods? Ian was a very private person, after all. She deliberately kept her tone light. “Wherever did you hear such a thing?”
“Everyone’s talking about it. Apparently you were almost as busy spreading tales about me this evening as my uncle.” Though his expression still looked fierce, he hooked his fingers beneath her sleeves and drew them slowly off her shoulders.
Her pulse quickened, for his eyes reflected a decidedly wicked intent. He unfastened her gown. “They’re saying I have this annoying habit of making you feel things you shouldn’t.”
Trust Ian to use her words against her. “It’s quite true.” She pressed his hand against her breast to feel her heart pounding. “You see? You’re doing it now.”
“That’s what happens when you let a ‘tall, virile, and well-built’ viscount force you into marriage.” He ran his finger beneath the edge of her bodice until it skimmed her nipple, and she sucked in a breath. “Instead of holding out for the ‘penniless barrister’ you had your ‘heart set on.’”
She blushed. “Did they tell you every word I said?”
“Every word. Sara has an astonishingly good memory.”
And he clearly wasn’t angry. Or if he was, he had an odd way of showing it.
He peeled her gown and chemise from her shoulders, exposing her breasts to his avid gaze. “I especially liked the part about how you find yourself behaving most improperly when I’m around.”
She was losing the capacity to breathe. “You mean ... like this?” Reaching up, she began to untie his cravat.
“Exactly.” He reached for her hair.
“Not the hair, Ian!” she protested. “I’ll never get it back up properly, and then everyone will know what we’ve been doing!”
With a dark smile, he began removing the pins. “Good. I must live up to my reputation, after all. I’d hate to make a liar out of my wife.” He bent his head to kiss her throat. “Especially when she went to so much trouble to enumerate all my bad qualities.”
“I didn’t begin to enumerate all of them,” she said testily as her hair tumbled down around her shoulders. “I forgot to mention your insistence on having your own way ... your arrogance ... your tendency to choose the most inappropriate times and places for seducing me. Shall I go on?”
“Not now, my darling viscountess,” he whispered as he pressed kisses down her breastbone. “Save something for your column. Because right now, I’m planning to illustrate my bad qualities by doing the one thing you find most ‘annoying.’”
“Oh? What is that?”
“I believe you called it, ‘demanding my husbandly rights.’”
And to her utter delight, her troublesome husband did just that.