The Regency Redgraves: What an Earl Wants / What a Lady Needs / What a Gentleman Desires / What a Hero Dares

“Yes, but if you did subscribe to this supposed theory, would you admit it?”

His grin was wicked. “Absolutely not.”

“Why, you—” She launched herself at him halfplayfully, and he snagged her wrists, all but flipping her onto her back, his body lying across hers. “Oh, so now you’re out to prove your superior strength?”

“On the contrary. I’m about to prove yours. Do you remember the first day you came to Portman Square?”

She wriggled her body beneath his, rather enjoying the feelings he was arousing in her. “I do. But what does that have to do with—”

Her wrists still trapped, he brought his head down to within inches of hers, his eyes clearly contemplating the sight of her slightly parted lips. “Do you remember our wager that day?”

“The dogs,” she said. And then, beginning to understand, she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.

“You’re not playing fair, Jessica. Some would say just like a woman. But yes, the dogs. You wagered me Brutus wouldn’t be able to withstand temptation for ten seconds, but that Cleo could and would.”

Sex is a woman’s game. He’d said it, and she was beginning to believe him.

“I believe he didn’t make it past four.” She moved again, lifting her leg and curling it around his. “Cleo could have managed twice that and possibly more. Just as I could outlast you with ease.”

Gideon raised one expressive eyebrow. “Really? Would you care to wager the five pounds I lost on that assumption?”

She noticed his breathing had become rather shallow. “Oh, yes, I’d wager twice that. Who is really the stronger, that’s the wager, who can better resist temptation. I’ll put my blunt on myself, naturally.”

“Naturally. With one caveat, if you don’t mind.”

“And what would that be?”

“That you stop moving your hips against me.”

She looked at him in feigned surprise. “Was I doing that? And that…upsets you? I’m so sorry. We’ll neither of us move, all right? I’ll call the count, shall I? One…”

She lowered her eyelids so that she could watch him through her lashes.

“Two…”

She drew in a breath that raised her breasts slightly, released her breath on a sigh.

“Three…Is it warm in here, Gideon? Your skin feels slightly slick against my breasts. But it’s nice.”

She watched his throat move as he swallowed.

“Four…I could do this all afternoon, you know, as I’m quite comfortable. Are you comfortable, Gideon? Five…And it was your idea. It’s difficult to believe you could possibly lose, being so much larger and stronger than—”

Thank goodness, Jessica thought as Gideon ground his mouth against hers. I never would have made it past six… .

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“AND YOU’RE POSITIVE you and Trixie are correct? All because of my father’s journal?”

Gideon finished fastening the diamond circlet around Jessica’s throat before turning her about so that she could look into his eyes when he answered her, see that he was sincere.

She looked beautiful tonight, a certain glow about her, the sort that signaled to the knowing that she had spent the afternoon in bed. And not alone.

“As certain as we can be, yes. With the last of the original members from my father’s time now dead, and with Trixie admitting she doesn’t recognize the other code names, I believe it’s safe to assume that…well, that you’re safe. You, Trixie, Adam.”

“Because the Society is no longer seeking out the eldest son to take his deceased father’s place, and that’s why Trixie doesn’t recognize all those other code names.”

“Yes, and because those who knew James Linden are those same now-deceased members. No one will look at you and wonder what you might know, what he may have told you. And, lastly, there’s no one remaining aboveground who would realize Trixie knows anything at all. Thank God.”

Jessica stepped away from him, to check her reflection in the pier glass. She looked beautiful in ivory lace, just as he’d known she would, and he was well satisfied with the demi-train he’d added to its design. “Whoever ordered my father to…to hand me over? Are you certain that person wouldn’t look at me now and, well, and wonder? Because we did decide the Society has a new leader, didn’t we? A strong leader? He could have been the one who ordered—”

“Here again I defer to Trixie. There are two things the members of the Society lend no credence to—women and hirelings. As far as the Society is concerned, you managed to convince Linden to run off with you. Or do you really think you would have made it even halfway to Dover if there was any concern either of you could prove a danger to them?”

“I never really thought about that.” Jessica walked over to her dressing table to pick up her reticule. “There were storms in the Channel. We had to wait in Dover for three days before we could set sail. James was terrified. He wouldn’t leave the rooms he’d hired at the inn once he’d finally managed to sell the jewelry. But I suppose we would have been easy enough to find.”

“And that answers the question, doesn’t it? Nobody came, because nobody felt the need. You’re safe, Trixie’s safe, Adam is not going to be issued an invitation to join the Society.”

“And the rose? You haven’t worn it again, but certainly it was noticed.”

“By whom? the Marquis of Mellis was in Bath, and the other members from my father’s time were already dead. There are thirteen members, correct? Yet nobody else ever wore the rose. Jessica, there’s nothing tying any of us to anything that’s going on within that damn Society. Nothing. If we want, it’s over. We can walk away.”

“If we want,” Jessica repeated as he held out his arm to her, to escort her downstairs. “Not even the search for your father’s body?”

She had him there. “That still bothers me, yes. But with Mellis gone, there’s no one else left to question. The tunnel beneath the greenhouse collapsed thanks to an unusually wet spring and the ravages of age, and the lights in the woods were most probably cast by lanterns carried by poachers. Not everything is a mystery. Not when taken separately.”

“Six men have been murdered,” she reminded him as they approached the drawing room. “Including my father.”

“You want to avenge him?”

She sighed. “I should say yes, shouldn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t. Somebody carried off my father’s body, and I see that only as a personal insult to the Redgrave name, a name already carrying enough dirt on it. Trixie could have ordered him buried in a bog for all I ever cared about the man. I don’t relish telling her that her son’s body was taken, no. She deserves the right to one day rest beside her only child for eternity.” He stopped her as they were about to enter the drawing room. “I like this, Jessica.”

She looked at him in confusion. “Pardon me?”

“Being honest. Open. Being able to talk with you this way. I don’t know why you make it so easy, but you do. I’ve never been honest with anyone about what it means to be a Redgrave, what it means to be the eldest son of a man so depraved and twisted his own wife shot him in the back, the eldest son of a mother so desperate to be free of her husband that she’d desert her own children. You sometimes don’t realize the weight of the things you carry through life with you, until you put them down. I’m feeling considerably…lighter.”

She bowed her head for a moment, and when she raised it again he could see tears standing in her eyes. “I feel much the same. Lighter. Cleaner, if that makes any sense at all. But I still need to tell you—”

“Tell me we can neither of us walk away from what we suspect,” he ended for her. “I know. There’s a reason those six men were killed. We have two of the names of current members, thanks to Trixie. We know the code names for four more, thanks to your father’s journal. Yes, the journal is out of date. And, lastly, no, we don’t have the rest of the names. But we’ve enough to go on with. We know the Society still exists.”

“With a purpose larger than what Trixie called naughty little boys playing at games. I agree with you on that head.”

“And how do I take any of this to the Crown? For one, I have no real proof, and secondly, I might be reporting what I believe to one of the new thirteen or one of their blackmailed guests. No, it’s us, or it’s nobody. I said we could walk away, but I can’t turn my back on this, Jessica. Not knowing it was my family who one way or another laid the foundation for it all.”

“I didn’t think you were applying to me for permission, either way. But I would like to think you still want my help. That was the plan in the beginning, wasn’t it, because we thought it would help us protect Adam?”

He leaned in and kissed her. “It was a part of the plan, certainly. But not above and beyond my overwhelming need to have you in my bed and easing my conscience by telling myself my offer of marriage provided a way to compensate for what happened to you.”