The Christmas Rose: A Rogues & Gentlemen Novella, Page 4

  “Wait!”

  He stilled utterly, but did not turn back to her.

  “Is that it?” she said, hearing her voice trembling. “You’ve nothing to say, no argument to make?”

  Slowly, he lifted his eyes to hers, and she was drowning in all that lovely blue.

  “What can I say, Miss Bunting? I knew from the first it was too good to be true. It was just a lovely daydream. Nothing more.”

  He went to move away again, but she held on tighter.

  “No. I do not release you from your promise. Either you marry me or… or I shall s-sue you for breach of promise.”

  “Bunty!” exclaimed her father in horror as her mother shrieked and collapsed back onto the sofa.

  Bunty ignored them both, her eyes fixed on Lord Courtenay, but his expression was unreadable.

  “I do not release you,” she said again. “The minister is waiting for us.”

  He moved closer to her and took both of her hands in his, though he did not meet her eyes as he spoke, looking down at his feet instead, as if ashamed.

  “Your parents are right to warn you off. Everything they say is true, no doubt.”

  “I know of your reputation,” she said quietly. “I know of all the stories in the scandal sheets, but is that all there is to you? Is there not more?”

  He did not answer, still avoiding her eyes, but Bunty pressed on.

  “Will you be cruel to me, my lord? Will you gamble away my money and spend it on other women? Will you leave me alone and destitute when it is gone?”

  “What? No!” he exclaimed, his blue eyes flashing. “God, no. I would never… never…” His voice cracked and he snapped his jaw shut and simply shook his head, his eyes still burning with anger.

  Bunty smiled at him, knowing her instincts had guided her right. “I would like to get married now, Ludo. If… If you still wish to marry me, that is?”

  “If I wish to?” he repeated, looking astonished, and then he let out a harsh breath. “I should like that above all things, Miss Bunting.”

  “Bunty,” she corrected him gently.

  “Bunty,” he said, staring at her in such a way she blushed and looked away from him.

  “Well,” she said, trying not to sound as if she was trembling all over. “Let us not keep the minister waiting any longer.”

  ***

  Ludo was married. It was the most extraordinary thing. Any moment now he’d wake up. He waited on the front step for his wife to bid goodbye to her mama, who was weeping as if her only daughter was about to climb the steps at Tyburn. He could hardly blame the poor woman. If he ever had a daughter, and a bastard like him wanted to court her, he’d have the devil put on the first ship to New South Wales without a second thought. That he now had a wife, and might one day have a daughter too, hit him like a hammer blow. A family. He might have a family. Well, it was bound to happen, wasn’t it? Sooner or later, and he would have to provide for them.

  At least he’d cleared all his debts, he assured himself, as a hot, panicky sensation rose in his chest. It wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that the business he’d begun would bring him a profit, too. His schoolmasters had not written him off, after all; they’d said he had a brain in his head. He’d done rather well, actually. Better than his brothers, not that it had done him the least bit of good. In fact, he thought his father—well, not his father, but his mother’s husband—had hated him all the more for that.

  At last the tearful farewells were done and Bunty joined him, taking his arm as he led her to the hired carriage. Ludo ignored her father’s wrathful gaze as he guided the man’s daughter down the stairs and handed her inside. One day, he promised himself, one day he would provide her with a carriage and four perfectly matched horses, she would have the finest clothes, a house on Mayfair, and whatever else she desired. He’d sell his soul to the devil himself if he must, but one way or another he would give her the life she deserved for being so brave, so bloody mad as to give herself into his keeping.

  Ludo climbed in after his bride and closed the carriage door. All at once silence reigned as the carriage rocked into motion. He dared a glance at her to see her staring resolutely straight ahead. God, the poor thing must be terrified. He only hoped she wasn’t already regretting her rash decision, for she’d not even seen where she would be living yet.

  He gathered his courage and reached out to take her hand, relieved when she curled her fingers quite naturally about his.

  “Lady Courtenay,” he said, a little stunned to realise such a creature existed.

  She laughed, a soft breathy sound that made his heart skip about in his chest like a newborn lamb.

  “That will take some getting used to,” she said.

  “Why did you do it?” he asked, hardly daring to hear the answer.

  Perhaps her father was a cruel tyrant who beat her, and he was her only means of escaping. It seemed the only rational explanation.

  She bit her full lower lip, worrying at it and sending desire lancing through him like a lightning strike as he fought the need to kiss the reddened flesh better.

  “The truth,” he urged her, telling himself he had best know the worst now, before he had fallen any farther under her spell.

  She looked up at him and he stared down into eyes of the softest brown, flecked with gold, bronze, copper. Idiot. He had no farther to fall. He was utterly spellbound.

  “I believe in you,” she said, and then laughed again, though he liked this sound rather less than before. “My parents think I am quite mad, but… but I told them I believed you were a good man, that you would try your best to be a good husband to me.”

  Ludo stared at her in awe. “You said that? Out loud?”

  “Of course out loud,” she said, giving him an odd look. “Else how would they have heard me?”

  “They’re right.” He reached out and caressed her cheek. “You are quite mad.”

  She stiffened, and he hurried on before he made a mull of it all.

  “But you were right, too, at least… I have not been a good man, Bunty, but I will do better. I have no idea how to be a husband either, but I shall try.”

  He winced, wondering how he had ever been considered an eloquent ladies’ man. The skill seemed to have been lost to him the moment he found himself alone in the library with this astonishing woman. Had that really only been two days ago?

  To his delight she reached up, covered the hand at her cheek with her own, and turned into it, kissing his gloved palm and then blushing furiously. He wanted badly to pull her into his arms and kiss her, here and now, but he did not dare. The likelihood of getting carried away was too strong, and he would not embarrass her for the world. So, he did nothing more than hold her hand for the rest of the journey until they arrived outside of his front door.

  The humiliation of guiding her into his bachelor accommodation was worse than he’d expected, and his expectations had been pretty bloody low. His stomach clenched to see her in such a place. It was like taking a flawless diamond and throwing it down in the dirt. So when she turned and smiled at him with delight in her eyes, he was quite lost for words.

  “You bought flowers,” she said, moving to where he’d arranged them in whatever jugs and empty glasses he could find, and set them around the room. She touched her gloved finger to the white petals, and Ludo ached for her to touch him with such obvious pleasure.

  “They’re Christmas roses,” he said. “They reminded me of you.”

  She looked up at once, staring at him.

  “They did?” she asked, obviously sceptical. “Why?”

  He shrugged, feeling strangely self-conscious. He’d flattered and seduced women enough in his day, but he’d never given his heart with the words before. It was surprisingly daunting, making him feel vulnerable and exposed. “They’re perfect. They look beautiful and delicate, innocent, but they are strong and brave enough to bloom in the harshest of winters.”

  Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise and
she blinked, her eyes glittering brightly.

  “That… That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she whispered.

  “It’s the truth.”

  She stared at him a moment longer before returning her attention to the room. Her gaze fell upon two framed watercolours, and Ludo felt anxiety prickle down his back.

  “Oh, these are lovely. So cleverly painted. Where did you get them?”

  “Um….”

  She turned to look at him. “Do you know the artist?”

  “Y-Yes,” he hedged.

  “They’re marvellous. Look at the candlelight burning indoors, shining through the windows of that beautiful house, and the way the twilight is making the skies all dim and yet glowing outside. You can almost feel the chill of autumn in the air and you know the fire inside is warm and cosy. It looks just the sort of place one would wish to live, as if nothing bad could ever happen there.”

  Ludo allowed that comment to unfurl inside him with a burst of pleasure, but said nothing, uncertain of how she would feel about his love of painting. It was suited to young ladies and maiden aunts, but was not a manly pursuit. That point had been hammered home early on, his family having made their feeling about his ambitions to be an artist abundantly clear.

  “And you have a meal ready for us, too.”

  Ludo watched as she uncovered the dishes and inspected the cold supper he’d had provided by his landlady.

  “It looks splendid,” she said, smiling at him as she removed her bonnet and gloves.

  “Are you hungry now?” he asked, wondering why he was asking such stupid questions when all he wanted was to take her to bed.

  To his great relief, she shook her head, then set the hat and gloves aside and unbuttoned her pelisse.

  “I’m too nervous to eat. And I don’t say that very often,” she admitted, with a self-deprecating laugh that sounded a touch brittle. She laid her coat on a chair and clutched her arms about her stomach, blushing before looking away from him.

  She was nervous, he realised. Well, of course she was. This was her wedding night, and… Holy God, she was a virgin. Not that he hadn’t known that. Of course he’d known that, but… but he hadn’t really considered that… that she’d never… that no one had ever….

  He’d be the first.

  Damn that, he’d be her only.

  Oh, Lord, what if he hurt her?

  What if she cried?

  Panic gripped him.

  “Perhaps some champagne, then?” he suggested, darting from the room the moment she nodded. Ludo hurried through the bedroom and flung open the window to retrieve the champagne bottle he’d left there to chill. He slammed the window shut again before the room grew cold, but a merry fire blazed in the hearth and it was warm and welcoming. He eyed the bed with misgiving.

  Don’t be a bloody fool, he cursed. Anyone would think you were a bloody virgin.

  Idiotically, he wished that he was. He wished he could redo the past and make it so he wasn’t the man he’d become, but then he’d never have met her. Stop it, he scolded himself, clutching at the cork of the champagne bottle. Have a drink and calm down, for the love of God.

  “What a cosy room.”

  Ludo leapt from his skin as he heard Bunty enter the room, and the cork flew from the bottle with a resounding pop.

  Champagne gushed from the neck and Bunty gave a laugh and snatched up the glasses he’d left on the dresser, placing first one then the other beneath the torrent. Well, he hoped that was the last of the humiliations in store for him this evening and not an omen. If not, he’d best just throw himself from the window and have done with it.

  “And you call yourself a rake,” he muttered crossly.

  “Pardon?”

  “Would you like some cake?” he said in a rush, improvising wildly and hoping to God there was some.

  “No, thank you, this is splendid,” she said, raising the glass.

  Ludo watched, fascinated, as she licked her lips, and everything south of his navel grew taut.

  Oh, God.

  Please let him get through this night without making her cry or shaming himself.

  He only prayed that some forgiving deity was listening with a kindly ear and did not seek to make an example of him. Well, in that case… it looked like he was on his own.

  Chapter 4

  “Wherein… a wedding night.”

  9th December 1820. London.

  Bunty looked up to find Ludo watching her intently. Their eyes met and he cleared his throat, turning away and going to the fireplace to stoke the fire which was burning merrily and did not appear to need his attention. She frowned. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he was nervous.

  Pffft. Nervous?

  Lustful Ludo the Libertine?

  Hardly.

  Yet she did not know how else to account for his behaviour. Unless, of course, he didn’t desire her? The thought made her stomach clench. Oh. She’d just assumed, after the way he’d kissed her, that… but perhaps bedding someone was another thing entirely. Or perhaps he’d gone off the idea, or….

  “What’s wrong?”

  Bunty jolted, a little alarmed to discover he was standing so close to her.

  “N-Nothing,” she stammered, and then changed her mind. If this marriage was going to have the slightest chance of succeeding, they must be honest with each other. “Well, actually, there is something….”

  His face fell and he looked so utterly dejected she wished she’d kept her blasted mouth shut.

  “I know it’s awful,” he said, one large hand raking through his hair and making it stick up all over the place. “I tried my best to make it presentable, but no amount of flowers and champagne will ever turn this hovel into a palace, I’m afraid.”

  “What?” She stared at him for a moment before she realised what he was talking about. “Oh, no, it’s not that. Your rooms are charming.”

  He snorted with disgust.

  “For a bachelor, certainly.” He moved closer and took her by the shoulders. “I will do better for you, Bunty. I swear I will.”

  “Please don’t worry. After all, there is my dowry now, and—”

  Ludo shook his head, his mouth set in a firm line. “No.”

  “No?” She frowned at him, puzzled by the resistance in his voice.

  “I’ll… I’ll find a way myself. That money is yours, to use as you see fit.”

  Bunty gaped, bewildered. “But I don’t need a sum like that! Though, that you would give me access to it is… is more than I expected. Thank you, Ludo.”

  “Christ, you would thank me? For forcing you to live in this….” He gestured around him with a muttered curse and turned his back on her. “I suppose I ought to use your money to buy us somewhere decent to live, for your sake at least, but… but I want to do it by myself. God, I’m a selfish bastard.”

  Bunty smiled, understanding his dilemma. A man’s pride was a fragile thing. Her mother had taught her that much.

  “I am perfectly content to live here while you get things in order, Ludo. It is no hardship, I assure you.”

  Bunty had come from a well-run, elegant house, and she had never lacked any comfort, but she did not think life in these rather shabby rooms was enough to daunt her. Not if Ludo genuinely wanted her with him, but that brought her back to her original point.

  “You are too kind,” he said.

  She could not decipher his tone so she moved closer so she could see his face.

  “Ludo?”

  He turned towards her, and Bunty gathered her courage.

  “D-Don’t… don’t you want me?”

  She watched him blink, such an incredulous expression on his face she might have laughed if she’d not been so anxious.

  “What?”

  “Oh,” she said, twisting her hands together. “Don’t make me say it again. It’s only… I thought before that… that you did, and you said I was lovely, and I… well, I believed you, which was probably foolish of me, but
… but if you meant it, why… w-why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

  “God,” he said with feeling. “I’m a stupid bastard as well as a selfish one. What a catch you are, Ludo.”

  Bunty’s eyes grew wide at his language, but she said nothing as he was moving closer, putting his arms around her, pulling her close.

  “Not want you?” he said on a breath of laughter. “How could you think such a thing?”

  “Well.” Bunty licked her lips, trying and failing not to stare at his mouth. “You seemed so nervous, and I thought perhaps you didn’t want to, or that you’d changed your mind.”

  Ludo groaned and pressed his forehead gently against hers.

  “Forgive me. I’m such a fool, it’s only….”

  “Only?” she pressed as he paused, looking embarrassed.

  “It’s only I wanted everything to be perfect, but I have to bring you here to this wretched place and you must surely regret agreeing to marry me, and then I realised that you’d never… that you hadn’t…. That you were a virgin, and I’m worried because I don’t want to hurt you, and….” He huffed out a bitter laugh. “You’d think the one thing I could do with no trouble was take you to bed, but no, I’m a bundle of nerves and I can’t even get that right.”

  “Oh.” Bunty reached up and cupped his beautiful face, joy bubbling through her blood like the champagne bottle had burst inside her veins. “You wanted to make me happy.”

  He nodded.

  “Ludo?”

  “Yes,” he said cautiously.

  “I’m so very glad I married you.”

  “You are?”

  Bunty nodded. “I think I made a wise choice, and I believe that everyone will see that one day, but I don’t care how long it takes, as long as you are glad too?”

  “Bunty,” he whispered. “Oh, God, love. I’ve never been gladder of anything in my whole life.”

  She laughed then. “How foolish we both are. From now on we must speak our minds and not fret about what each other is thinking, but ask. Don’t you agree?”

  A slightly wicked glint lit his eyes, but he nodded.

  “I do,” he said. “Why don’t you do that, then?”