A Dangerous Love (42 page)
She drew back to beam at him. “You didn’t need to do all this, you know. The minute I saw you in the theater, I realized I could never leave you again. I knew I never wanted to let you go.”
That earned her another kiss, only this time he lingered forever over her mouth, worshiping it, plundering it…loving it. And as always, when he finished he left her weak-kneed and trembling.
“I hope you realize what marriage to me will mean, darling,” he warned. “Since I’m determined to keep your father’s secret, in public I must pretend to be what I was before. So you’ll be marrying a man widely proclaimed to be both illegitimate and heartless. Certainly someone unworthy of an earl’s daughter in the eyes of the world.”
“Do you care what the world thinks?”
He stared down at her sincerely. “All I care about is having you as my wife.”
She searched his face but saw only worry for her, and that warmed her to her toes. “Then I’m perfectly content.” She smiled. “Besides, we’re both good at playacting, so we can manage any role. As long as you’re my husband in private, I don’t care what else you pretend to be in public. We both know the truth.”
Laying her hand on his chest, she added, “As for being heartless, I’ll challenge anyone who calls you such. For I finally know that Daniel was right. Until now you ignored your heart—but you have one. Oh, yes, my love, you had one all along.”
“And it’s yours,” he told her as he clasped her hand tightly in his. “It will always be yours.”
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve
.
Lovers, to bed; ’tis almost fairy time
.
I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn
.
As much as we this night have overwatch’d
.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguil’d
The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed
.
William Shakespeare
, A Midsummer Night’s Dream
G
riff stood sipping champagne at the end of Swan Park’s terrace as he watched his wife of one hour regale their guests with tales of her career on the stage. Her three-week-long career in a small part. Rosalind still knew how to captivate an audience, even though she’d chosen to give up the stage.
Apparently even she could see that her talents lay elsewhere. During the play’s short run, she’d often complained to Griff of her irritation at being ordered about, and more than once she’d argued with Kemble over the staging.
Griff smiled. No one would ever call his wife
docile, to be sure. Or lazy. She was already making grand plans for her newly chosen role as lady patroness of the theater. Kemble might be dancing with glee at the thought of all the Knighton money Lady Rosalind intended to bestow upon Covent Garden Theatre, but he’d soon learn that the money came at a price—endurance of milady’s willful tongue.
Daniel strolled up, followed the direction of Griff’s gaze, then laughed. “Already thinking of the wedding night, are you? That lass has
still
got you pining after her.”
Not even Daniel could dampen Griff’s good mood today. “Enjoy yourself at my expense while you can, my friend, because someday I intend to see you pining after a woman yourself. I only pray that the woman, whoever the poor wench proves to be, puts you through hell before she accepts you. That will give me the chance to repay you for all your barbs.”
“You might be waiting an eternity then.”
Griff eyed him askance. “Didn’t you tell me when we battled in the study that you intend to marry one day?”
“I should like to. A man needs a woman looking after him once he tires of whoring. But the right woman won’t be so easy to find, and my poor breeding is likely to put her off even if I do find her.”
“What about Rosalind’s two sisters? As I recall, you said they were ‘fine women.’ And they both like you.”
Daniel snorted. “Lady Juliet only likes me if I don’t have amorous intentions. Poor lass, my size terrifies her. As for Lady Helena…”
Daniel glanced across the room to where Helena stood remote from the others, serenely talking to
Griff’s mother. For a moment, something dark and intense burned in his gaze.
Then a look of resignation crossed the burly man’s face. “That woman thought little enough of me when I pretended to be you, but now she knows I’m little better than my highwayman da, so she’d not be fool enough to consider any suit of mine.” He laughed harshly, then tossed back his champagne. “Besides, what man in his right mind would want a stiff-rumped woman like that for a wife?”
Griff’s eyes narrowed in speculation. He glanced from Daniel to Helena just in time to see Helena shoot Daniel a furtive look, then blush and avert her gaze when Daniel met it shamelessly, as if daring her to look her fill. A slow smile spread over Griff’s face. So that was the way the wind blew. Perhaps he would have his chance to gloat sooner than Daniel thought.
Griff handed his empty champagne glass to a passing footman. “At least Helena and my mother seem friendly with each other. That bodes well for Mother’s visit here. Swanlea invited her to stay with the family while Rosalind and I are on our honeymoon on the Continent. After all, it’s been years since Mother was here, and she does have family in Stratford.”
“It doesn’t bother you to see her here? With
him
?” Daniel asked, nodding toward where the earl sat in the chair he’d been carried down in.
Griff looked at the man, but felt little of the ire that had burned so fiercely in his chest before. “Not really. In any case, it’s time to put the past behind us. All of us.” With a smile, he shifted his gaze to his wife, who looked particularly fetching in the vibrant blue gown she’d chosen for their wedding. “The future interests me far more these days.”
The crowd around Rosalind had dispersed,
drawn by the lure of the feast being laid out beneath tents on the lawn. As if sensing his gaze on her, she looked over, and her face brightened with love. Quickly, she strode toward him like Athena following her arrow to his heart.
When she reached him, she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, then gazed up at him, eyes alight with mischief. “I hope the two of you aren’t over here plotting new strategies for Knighton Trading. I realize Daniel is taking your place during the weeks we’ll be gone, but I draw the line at having my husband discuss business on our wedding day.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Griff retorted with a chuckle. “Knowing you, that pesky sword of your is lying in wait for me behind some bush.” He lowered his voice, but not so much that Daniel couldn’t hear. “As mine is lying in wait for you in its scabbard.”
She blushed.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “I can see when I’m not wanted.” He gazed over to the heavily laden tables. “There’s a leg of lamb crying out to be eaten, and I don’t want to keep it waiting.”
As the giant man strolled off toward the tents, Rosalind squeezed Griff’s arm hard. “I swear, you’re shameless—and in front of Daniel, too! You embarrassed the poor man dreadfully!”
“Embarrassed
him
? Don’t be absurd.” He skimmed his gaze down her sumptuous, seductive form. “Besides, I thought you’d become rather fond of my roguish ways. You wouldn’t want me to reform simply because I’ve married you, would you?”
“Certainly not!”
When he laughed heartily she blushed again, but drew a little closer. He laid his hand over hers and began stroking the underside of her gloved wrist
with his thumb. Although he smiled and nodded at their guests, all his awareness was reserved for his lovely wife: the woman he adored, the one he’d keep always in his heart.
And the one he desired madly. Between her stint treading the boards and all the preparations for the wedding, they hadn’t made love in weeks, so he was as eager for his wedding night as any groom.
He shot her a sidelong glance. “You needn’t worry about my reforming, darling. I’m still rogue enough to be looking forward to tonight.” He teased in an undertone, “And to trying that variation on lovemaking you were so curious about in your father’s study a few weeks ago.”
She glanced furtively about them, but no one was close enough to hear. “Oh, you are, are you?” she said saucily.
“Most assuredly. That and several other variations. ‘Lady, shall I lie in your lap?’”
“Why, Griff Knighton,” she reproached him in a low, mocking voice, “you ought to be ashamed of yourself, quoting the naughty parts of Shakespeare! Have you no decency?”
“None whatsoever with you, my love.” He squeezed her hand. “As I told you before, we bastards are a naughty lot. And when it comes to you, I fear I’ll always be one in the bedchamber.”
She laughed. “Then thank God for bastards.”
T
he year after my book was set a delegation to China took place that opened up the China trade for England. I’d like to think that Griff would have been on it.
Mrs. Inchbald was a real actress and playwright from this period. I took no liberties with her life history that I know of. Her relationship with John Kemble was very close until her death, a relationship that began even before her husband, Joseph Inchbald—who was a bit of a philanderer—died. She’s a fascinating character who’s only now being rediscovered by historians.
As for the wedding of Griff’s parents at Gretna Green, there were indeed court cases disputing marriages made at that illustrious spot. Most such disputes concerned the willingness of the woman involved—a family might accuse the fortune-hunting groom of kidnapping so they could obtain their daughter’s release from a disadvantageous marriage.
The legality of the wedding of Kitty Barnes to Lord Cochrane, heir to the Earl of Dundonald, however, was disputed by their children, who argued over who was the legitimate heir to the family fortune and title once their father died. The marriage was upheld because of Kitty’s testimony. But I wanted to write about what could happen when such a marriage was
not
upheld by the court system.
I’ve been creating fiction for years (I started when I was two and it’s only gotten worse since then), and I plan to continue until my imagination stops filling my head with ideas, which should be sometime in the next century. Besides, writing novels gives me an excuse for not cleaning the house.
Fortunately, my dear husband and son tolerate my obsession because a) I still cook; b) they don’t know how to write novels; and c) they know I’m much happier with plots and characters in my head than with a mop in my hand.
So if you’d like to know more about my numerous books under various names (or find out just how I turn the flotsam and the jetsam in my head into actual books), visit my website at
www.sabrinajefferies.com.
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ABRINA
J
EFFRIES
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M
ARRIED TO THE
V
ISCOUNT
D
ANCE OF
S
EDUCTION
A
FTER THE
A
BDUCTION
A N
OTORIOUS
L
OVE
A D
ANGEROUS
L
OVE
T
HE
D
ANGEROUS
L
ORD
T
HE
F
ORBIDDEN
L
ORD
T
HE
P
IRATE
L
ORD
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A DANGEROUS LOVE
. Copyright © 2006 by Sabrina Jeffries. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Epub edition September 2006 ISBN 9780061762604