The Stranger I Married (6 page)

Startled by Gray’s husky voice in her ear, Isabel spun about so quickly, he was forced to arch backwards to avoid being whacked in the face with the brim of her hat. The near miss made him laugh, and once he started, he couldn’t stop.

She gaped at him, awed by how young he looked when lost in merriment. His laugh sounded rusty, as if it had not been let out in awhile, and she loved the sound of it—deeper and richer than it had been before, and she had adored it even then. Unable to help it, she smiled, but when he grabbed his ribs and gasped, she had to laugh with him. Then he caught her about the waist, and spun her around, just like he used to do.

Setting her hands on his broad shoulders for balance, Isabel hung on, and remembered again how she enjoyed being with him.

“What will you give me if I do?”
“Oh, that’s not fair. You are making a spectacle of us.
Everyone will hear of this.” She thought of Hargreaves’
expression when he’d seen them in the tailors, and her smile
faded. How awful she was to cavort with Gray, when it would
hurt John.
“A boon, Pel, or I will carry you around until you agree.
I am quite strong, you know. And you are light as a feather.” “I am not.”
“Are so.” His lip made that little pout of his. It would
look ridiculous on any other man, but on Gray it made women
want to kiss him. It made Isabel want to kiss him.
“You think too much,” he complained when she just
stared at him. “You rejected my gift. Offering me a boon is the
least you can do.”
“What do you want?”
He considered it a moment, and then said, “Supper.” “Supper? Can you be more specific?”
“I want to have supper with you. Stay home tonight, and
share a meal with me.”
“I have plans.”
Gray moved to exit the shop. “My good man,” he called
out to the clerk. “The door, if you would please.”
“You would not carry me outside like this.”
“Do you truly believe I wouldn’t?” he asked with a devilish smile. “I may have changed, but a leopard cannot
completely lose its spots.”
Isabel glanced over her shoulder, and saw the street
approaching and the multitude of pedestrians who strolled
there. “Yes.”
He paused mid-step. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, I will have supper with you.”
His grin was triumphant. “You are such a generous
soul, Pel.”
“Stuff,” she muttered. “You are a blackguard,
Grayson.”
“Perhaps.” He set her down, and then tucked her hand
around his arm, leading her out to the street. “But really,
would you want me any other way?”
Looking at him, seeing the lightening of the oppressive
air that had surrounded him the day before, she knew she liked
him best as a scoundrel. It was when he was most happy. Just like Pelham.
Only a fool would make the same mistake twice. Recognizing the voice of reason, Isabel reminded
herself to heed it, and keep her physical distance from him. As
long as he remained at least three feet away from her, she was
fine.
“Lord Grayson!”
They both sighed as a rather large woman approached
them wearing a monstrosity of a hat, and an even worse pink
ruffled concoction as a dress.
“That’s Lady Hamilton,” Isabel whispered. “A lovely
woman.”
“Not in that garment,” Gray replied through his smile. It took everything she had not to laugh aloud. “Lady Pershing-Moore told me she saw you with Lady
Grayson,” Lady Hamilton said, panting as she came to a halt
before them. “I said she must be daft, but it seems she was
correct.” She beamed. “So wonderful to see you again, my
lord. How was...wherever you were?”
Gray accepted the offered hand, bowed over it, and said,
“Miserable, as any locale would be without the company of
my charming and beautiful wife.”
“Oh.” Lady Hamilton shot Isabel a wink. “Of course.
Lady Grayson accepted an invitation to my rout, which will be
held the week after next. I don’t suppose you intend to
accompany her?”
“Certainly,” Gray said smoothly. “After my extended
absence, I intend to never be away from her side for even a
moment.”
“Wonderful! I now look forward to the event with even
greater anticipation.”
“You are too kind.”
Saying her farewells, Lady Hamilton retreated quickly. “Gray,” Isabel began with a sigh. “Why stir up gossip in
this way?”
“If you think there is any possibility that we will not be
gossiped about, you are delusional.” He continued down the
street toward their waiting landau.
“Why add fuel to the fire?”
“Do they teach women how to speak in riddles in
finishing school? I vow, you all do it so well.”
“Damn you, I agreed to be your escort until you find
your footing, but that will not take long, and once you go your
own way—”
“We are going the same way, Pel,” he drawled. “We’re
married.”
“We can separate. After the last four years it would
merely be a formality.”
Gray took a deep breath, and looked down at her. “Why
would I want to do that? Better yet, why would you?” Isabel kept her eyes ahead. How could she explain,
when she wasn’t certain she knew the answer? “I don’t know.” His hand over hers, he gave a soft squeeze. “A great
deal has happened in the last twenty-four hours. Give both of
us some time to adjust to one another. I admit, things between
us have not progressed the way I anticipated.”
He assisted her into the landau, and then directed the
driver home.
“What did you anticipate, Gray?” Perhaps if she knew
his aim, she could find some understanding. Or at the very
least ease some of her worry.
“I thought I would return, you and I would sit down
with a few bottles of wine, and get to know each other again. I
imagined slowly finding my way in this world, and settling
into the comfort you and I once knew together.”
“I would like that,” she said softly. “But I doubt the
possibility unless we can find a way to be like we were.” “Is that truly what you desire?” He twisted in the seat to
face her, and her gaze dropped, noting how muscular and
powerful his thighs were. She couldn’t seem to stop taking
note of such things now. “Do you love Hargreaves?” Isabel’s brows shot up. “Love him? No.”
“Then there is hope for us.” He smiled, but the
determination is his voice was unmistakable.
“Not that I don’t care quite a bit for him, because I do.
We have many interests in common. He is of a like age. We—
”
“Does my age bother you, Isabel?” He studied her from
beneath the brim of his hat, his blues eyes narrowed and
considering.
“Well, you are younger, and—”
Gray caught her about the neck, and pulled her close,
tilting his head to duck under her hat. His mouth—that
sculpted mouth that could dazzle or sneer with equal
effectiveness—brushed across hers.
“Oh!”
“I won’t accept a sham anymore, Pel.” He licked across
her lips, and groaned softly. “God, the way you smell drives
me insane.”
“Gray,” she gasped, pushing at his shoulders and
discovering just how hard he was. Her lips trembled and
burned. “People can see us.”
“I don’t care.” He swiped his tongue quickly into her
mouth, and she shivered at the taste of him. “You belong to
me. I can seduce you if I want to.” His hand at her nape
stroked softly, as his voice lowered. “And I definitely want
to.”
He sealed his lips over hers, a brief tease, and then he
pulled away, whispering, “Shall I show you what a younger
man can do for you?”
Her eyes drifted shut. “Please...”
“Please what?” His free hand rested next to her thigh,
and kneaded her, sending waves of yearning through her body.
“Please show you?”
She shook her head. “Please don’t make me want you,
Gray.”
“Why not?” He tugged off his hat, and set his mouth to
her throat, licking across her racing pulse.
“Because I will hate you forever if you do.”
He pulled back quickly in surprise, and she took the
opportunity to shove hard, which effectively knocked him
over. He fell to his back, his arms flailing outward in an
attempt to halt his descent. She flinched as his shoulders hit
the side with a loud thump, leaving him nearly prone. “What the devil?” Gray stared at her, wide-eyed. She scrambled over to the rear-facing squab. “Yes, you can have your way, Gray,” she said grimly.
“Much to my shame. But while my body may be all too
willing to indulge, I happen to have morals, and a care for
Hargreaves, who doesn’t deserve to be set aside after nearly
two years of companionship just for a rut.”
“A rut, madam?” he growled, cursing as he nearly fell
off the seat trying to sit up. “One does not ‘rut’ with their
spouse.”
Once he’d managed to resume his perch, the full extent
of his arousal was revealed by the stretching of material
between his legs. Isabel swallowed hard, and looked away
quickly. Good God.
“What else could it be?” she said crossly. “We know
nothing of one another!”
“I know you, Pel.”
“Do you?” She snorted. “What is my favorite flower?
Favorite color? Favorite tea?”
“Tulips. Blue. Peppermint.” Gray snatched his hat off
the floorboards, shoved it on his head, and crossed his arms. She blinked.
“Thought I wasn’t paying attention?”
Isabel bit her lower lip, and rifled through her
memories. What were his favorite flowers, color, and tea? She
was ashamed to realize she didn’t know.
“Ha!” he said triumphantly. “All well and good, Isabel.
I shall give you the time you require to come around, and
during that time you can learn all about me, and I about you.” The landau rolled to a stop outside their home. She
glanced at the planters by the street, and saw the blue flowers.
Gray leapt down, and then assisted her. He walked her up the
steps, bowed, and then turned about.
“Where are you going?” she called after him, her skin
still tingling from his touch, her stomach clenched at the
determined set of his shoulders.
He paused, and looked back at her. “If I go in the house
with you, I will take you, whether you will it or no.” When she
said nothing, his mouth curved mockingly. Within moments,
he was gone.
Where would he go? He was obviously aroused, and
virile enough that his release in the tailor’s shop would not
affect his ability to perform again. The thought of him occupied in carnal pursuits prodded her in a horribly familiar way. She knew what he looked like unclothed, and she knew that any other woman who saw him similarly would be putty in his hands. An ache she’d thought to never feel again
gnawed at her belly. A twinge from the past. A reminder. Entering her home of four years, Isabel discovered, to
her dismay, that it already felt almost empty without Gray’s
vibrant presence. She cursed him for the upheaval he’d
wrought in only a few scant hours, and she took the stairs to
her room determined to do something about it. Detailed
planning of her dinner party was in order. She also needed to
study her spouse, and ascertain his likes and dislikes. Then, once she knew him, she would find the perfect
mistress for him. She could only hope that Hargreaves plan
would work, and work quickly.
Experience had taught her that men like Gray couldn’t
be resisted for long.

A
s Gerard ascended the steps to the double doors of Remington’s Gentleman’s Club, he knew that if it weren’t for his frustration, he would be nervous. Inside the popular establishment, there would be at least several gentlemen whose wives or paramours had been stolen by him. In the past, he would have felt no awkwardness. Rules do not apply in love or war, he would have said. Now, he knew better. Rules applied everywhere, and he was not exempt from following them.

He handed his hat and gloves to one of the two attending footmen, and passed through the main gaming areas to the great room beyond. Seeking a deep armchair and an alcoholic beverage of some sort, he glanced around the room as he entered. He found comfort in the familiar surroundings. The smell of leather and tobacco reminded him that some things were timeless. A pair of light blue eyes met his, and then they looked away in a deliberate snub. Gerard sighed, accepting his due, and then he moved forward to make the first of what he knew would be an endless number of apologies to an equally infinite number of recipients.

“Grayson.” The man who was once his best friend did not even look at him.
“Lord Denby, Lord William,” Gerard greeted to the other two gentlemen who sat with Markham. He turned his attention back to the viscount. “I beg a moment of your time, Markham. If you would grant me that much, I would be eternally grateful.”
“I do not think I can spare it,” Markham said coldly.
“I understand. I will have to apologize to you here, then,” Gerard said, unwilling to be denied.
Markham’s head swiveled toward him.
“I am sorry my marriage caused you discomfort. As your friend, I should have had a care for your interests in the matter. I also offer my felicitations on your recent marriage. That is all I wished to say. Good day, gentlemen.”
Gerard tilted his head respectfully, and then turned about. He found his own small table and leather armchair, releasing his pent up breath as he sat. A few moments later, he opened the paper brought to him, and tried to relax, a task made more difficult by the stares directed his way, and the peers who approached to say hello.
“Grayson.”
He stiffened, and lowered his paper.
Markham stared at him for a long moment, and then gestured to the seat opposite him. “May I?”
“Certainly.” Gerard set aside his reading, as the viscount settled into his chair.
“You look different.”
“I would like to think I am.”
“I would say so, if your apology was sincere.”
“It was.”
The viscount ran a hand through his dark blond locks, and smiled. “My marriage is pleasant, which eases the sting immeasurably. But tell me this, as I’ve wondered for years, did she set me aside for you?”
“No. Honestly, you were our only connection up until the moment we spoke our vows.”
“I don’t understand. Why deny my suit, but accept yours, if there was nothing between you?”
“Does any man discuss the reasons why his wife married him? Does any man ever know? Whatever her impetus, I am a most fortunate man.”
“Fortunate? You have been absent for four bloody years!” the viscount cried, studying him. “I almost did not recognize you.”
“A lot can happen in that time span.”
“Or not happen,” Markham said. “When did you return?”
“Yesterday.”
“I spoke with Pel the day before, and she said nothing to me.”
“She was not aware.” Gerard gave a mirthless laugh. “And, unfortunately, she is not as pleased as I would wish.”
Markham settled more comfortably into the big chair, and gestured to a nearby footman for a drink. “I am surprised to hear that. You two always rubbed along famously.”
“Yes, but as you noted, I have changed. My tastes are different, as are my goals.”
“I wondered how it was that you were immune to Pel’s charms,” the viscount said, laughing. “Fate does have a way of balancing the scales, if given enough time. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased to see you suffer a bit.”
Gerard gave a reluctant smile. “My wife is a mystery to me, which deepens my dilemma.”
“Isabel is a mystery to everyone. Why do you think so many wish to possess her? The challenge is irresistible.”
“Do you remember her marriage to Pelham?” Gerard asked, wondering why he had never bothered to inquire before. “I would like to hear of it, if you do.”
Markham accepted the mug offered to him by the attendant, and nodded. “There is not a peer my age who has forgotten Lady Isabel Blakely as she was in her youth. She is Sandforth’s only daughter, and he doted on her. Still does, as far as I know. It was known that her dowry was substantial, which attracted the fortune hunters, but she would have been popular, regardless. We all awaited her coming out eagerly. I had plans to offer for her even then. But Pelham was wily. He did not wait. He seduced her fresh out of the schoolroom, before any of us had a chance at wooing her.”
“Seduced?”
“Yes, seduced. It was obvious to everyone. The way they looked at one another... Theirs was a grand passion. Whenever they were in close proximity, the heat was palpable. I envied him that, the worship of a woman so obviously ripe and willing. I had hoped to have that with her, but it wasn’t to be. Even after he began to stray, she still adored him, although it was clear it pained her greatly. Pelham was a fool.”
“Hear, hear,” Gerard muttered, silently examining the flare of jealousy he felt.
Markham chuckled, and took a long drink. “You remind me of him. Or rather, you did before. He was two and twenty when he married her, and just as cocky as you. In fact, Pel used to note often how much you reminded her of Pelham. When you married, I assumed that was why. But then you kept on with your distractions, and she with hers. You confounded all of us, and angered more than a few. It seemed a waste to have Pel finally remarried, only to have it be to a man who had no interest in her.”
Gerard stared down at his hands, which were reddened and callused from hard work. He twisted the thin gold band he wore, a piece of jewelry he and Pel had bought as a lark, joking that it would never see the light of day. He wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to wear it, but now that it was on, he found he liked it. It was an odd feeling, the feeling of belonging to someone. He wondered if Pel had felt it when she wore the ring he’d bought her this afternoon, and if that was why she had rejected it so summarily.
The viscount laughed. “I really should hate you, Gray. But you make it damn hard.”
Gerard’s brows lifted into his hairline. “I haven’t done anything to stop you from hating me.”
“You’re thinking, and brooding. If those aren’t signs that you have changed, I’ve no notion what would be. Cheer up. She’s yours now, and unlike me or Pearson or any of the others, she cannot set you aside.”
“But there is Hargreaves,” he reminded.
“Ah yes, there is that,” Markham said with a broad grin. “As I said, fate does have a way.”