Secrets to a Gentleman's Heart (Gentlemen of Intrigue Book 1) Page 16

  Evangeline nodded. “Sophia is correct. He needs to be honest with you.”

  “And if he refuses?”

  “You will persuade him,” Sophia said.

  Persuade him. Regina hadn’t considered that option until now. A smile eased across her face as an idea began to take hold in her mind. “Yes, I believe I will.”

  She would offer Mr. Vistoire exactly what he claimed to want and force him to admit he hadn’t come to Wedmore House to seduce her. He was looking for something, and she wouldn’t stop until he confessed what he wanted.

  Nineteen

  The next morning, Xavier arrived at Wedmore House a half-hour earlier than Regina’s aunt had commanded. The threat of Viscount Margrave’s unsavory associates had little to do with his arrival time. The men would have to stand in a line behind Farrin’s thugs for a turn to rough him up. Xavier’s main concern was for Regina’s state of mind.

  Everything had happened too quickly last night, and he needed to speak with her alone before Lord Margrave arrived and the situation escalated. Xavier regretted his rash action last night. His claim that they were betrothed would tie her to him for the rest of their lives. His aim all along had been to marry her, but he had never intended to force her hand or use deceit. Nevertheless, he’d seen an opportunity and taken it, which made him feel like he was as rotten inside as Farrin.

  He feared Regina would despise him forever, but a glimmer of hope fought to stay alight as he grabbed the serpent doorknocker at Wedmore House and knocked.

  Sophia answered. Her usual expressive face remained impassive as she greeted him. “Good morning, Mr. Vistoire. Follow me, please.”

  He frowned when she turned her back to him to lead him into the house. He discarded his hat and gloves on the entry table and followed her. She didn’t speak as they crossed the foyer en route to the arched doorway marking the start of the corridor. The swish of her slippers against the floor seemed exceptionally loud in the somber quiet. He had a tickle at the back of his throat that he tried to ease by swallowing, but when his cough broke free, it sounded like the bang of a gavel.

  Sophia paused in front of the closed door he’d seen the day he helped bathe Cupid. If he was correct, Lord Wedmore’s study stood on the other side. His chance to possibly poke around and memorize the layout had arrived, and he didn’t give a damn.

  His escort knocked, and Regina’s muffled command to enter filtered to the corridor. Sophia pushed open the door and stood aside, so he could walk into the room. His gaze locked on Regina sitting behind the desk. A small pistol lay on the surface. Wildly, he swung his head, searching the cluttered room for Viscount Margrave or Regina’s aunt.

  “We are alone.” Regina slid the pistol across the battered desktop toward her and dropped it in a drawer. She smiled. “I took Aunt Beatrice’s firearm while she was sleeping. Rest assured, our meeting will not be interrupted by a pistol-wielding spinster.”

  She was trying to lighten the mood, but the reminder of last night made his gut clench. “You could have been killed. What were you thinking by shielding me with your body?”

  Sophia gasped, and Regina’s friendly demeanor evaporated. “I wasn’t almost killed, Sophia. Mr. Vistoire is exaggerating. Please, allow us some privacy like we discussed.”

  “Auntie is not getting her pistol back,” her sister said with a sharp nod.

  Sophia didn’t wait for a response before pulling the door closed. Regina didn’t invite him to sit, so he stood, waiting for her to speak. She didn’t. She tugged open a side drawer, retrieved a book, and began reading. When she turned the page, irritation flared inside him, but he held his tongue. If she was looking for a quarrel to justify ending their sudden betrothal, he wouldn’t oblige her. He didn’t want to argue or for their relationship to end with bad blood between them. He didn’t want it to end at all. If they could at least remain friends, he would be content.

  Eventually, his feet began to burn from standing at attention for so long, and the items in the room called out to him. Lord Wedmore’s study was like a small museum. Clay pots sat on the windowsill. Wood carved animals graced the shelves. A bowl of tarnished coins rested on a table along with a dented helmet that could have belonged to a gladiator at one time. A tapestry hung alongside a rusty set of shackles screwed into the stone wall.

  “Would you like to look around?”

  Regina’s voice startled him.

  “No.” He cleared his throat. “No, thank you.”

  “Are you sure? Uncle Charles wouldn’t mind. He is proud of his finds.”

  “Does he deal in antiquities?”

  “His hobby is antiquities. He donates his finds to the British Museum or keeps them, but I’ve never known him to part with an item for profit.”

  Suddenly, he understood Farrin’s desire to get his hands on the map. It was likely ancient and valuable, and not for sale. It could be on display in this very room.

  Regina closed her book and stood. “But I don’t want to bore you with Uncle Charles’s trinkets. You came here for me. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

  “I don’t understand your meaning.”

  “Oh, I think you do.” Her calculated smile as she rounded the desk and trailed her fingers over the battered surface caused his mouth to go dry. She was up to something.

  “Evangeline and Sophia will keep Aunt Beatrice occupied, and I’ve not yet sent a message to Lord Margrave. You needn’t worry we will be interrupted.”

  She leaned against the desk and arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him. A pretty pink blush rose in her cheeks, but she boldly held his gaze.

  “Sweet Mary Mother of God,” he said, his words running into each other as if they were one long one. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

  “Of course not. You are here to seduce me, Mr. Vistoire. And I am ready to surrender.”

  He frowned. “I don’t want your surrender.”

  “You don’t?” She blinked as if she didn’t understand, but Regina possessed a shrewd mind. He didn’t believe her bewildered act for a moment.

  With a small hop, she sat on the edge of the desk. Slowly, she drew the hem of her skirts up her legs, revealing defined, shapely ankles and affording him a tantalizing peek of her stockings-clad calves.

  His heart rammed against his ribs. She held him spellbound. He remembered how glorious her body was beneath the layers of muslin, and his fingers itched to touch her, to explore her silky skin at leisure.

  When the ruffle of her petticoat slipped over her knees and uncovered an inch of bare thigh above her stockings, the rushing whoosh of his breath filled his ears. He held his arms stiffly at his sides and willed himself to resist.

  “Is something wrong, Xavier? Don’t you want to t-touch me?” The slight quiver to her voice was the only sign of nerves she’d shown, and it snapped him from his trance.

  “I do. I want you desperately.” He stalked toward her, stopping with barely a sliver of space between them. Her breath caught with a small hitch, and she gazed up at him with wide eyes. “I hear the sensual smokiness of your voice as I lie in bed at night. Your scent and the sensation of your fingers in my hair are etched into my memory. I crave you, Regina.”

  A smoldering fire flickered in her amber green eyes. The tip of her tongue swept over her lips, wetting them.

  He swallowed a groan and yanked her skirts to cover her legs. Distrustful of his resolve, he placed several steps between them.

  She huffed. “What are you doing?”

  He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the only spot on the wall that wasn’t covered with artifacts. “Once will never be enough for me. That is what you are offering, is it not? One moment of pleasure to prove I am the scoundrel you believe me to be.”

  “You are wrong. I wanted evidence to the contrary, and you have provided it. Your appearance at Wedmore House was not the result of accepting a challenge. You are looking for something.”

  He cursed under his breath.

&n
bsp; She marched to where he stood and squared off with him, crossing her arms to mirror him. “You have lied to me from the start. I want to offer you another chance to tell me the truth.”

  He drew back in surprise and dropped his arms at his sides. “Why would you give me another chance?”

  “My aunt expects us to marry, and I cannot pledge fidelity to a man I don’t know or trust. If you are honest now, I won’t cry off. I will become your wife, and when you return to New Orleans, we will part ways.”

  He winced. This conversation wasn’t likely to go well. “Will you sit with me?”

  Her eyebrows slowly rose on her forehead when he held his hand out to her.

  “Please, I have a lot to explain. It would be more comfortable to sit.”

  She warily placed her hand in his and accompanied him to a settee wedged between the table that held the bowl of old coins and gladiator helmet, and a tall woodcarving of an angry elephant.

  Once Regina had settled her skirts, Xavier sat. It was time to tell her everything. She deserved that much from him, especially when she wouldn’t be happy at the conclusion of their conversation.

  “I didn’t come to Wedmore House to steal your virtue. I was sent to find a map, although my true aim was to take a piece of jewelry to pay for my passage home.”

  A crease appeared between her brows, and he rushed on with his story, telling her everything that had happened to him in the past two years. Being nabbed leaving the Den of Iniquity. The interrogations and accusations that followed.

  “You were accused of being a spy?” She laughed. “That is ridiculous. You couldn’t sneak into Wedmore House without being thwarted by a small dog.”

  “Eh... Yes, well...” Heat crept into his face. “Farrin drew the same conclusion eventually. That I wasn’t a spy. Not that I was inept.”

  She shrugged as if to say maybe. “After the Home Office took you into custody and determined you were innocent of the charges, why didn’t they release you?”

  “I don’t believe Farrin is with the Home Office. I haven’t been able to determine much about his group except he appears to be the leader. He is also for hire, which brings us to the map. He said he was hired to retrieve it. I intend to use the map as leverage to learn who wants it, and who is responsible for my incarceration.”

  “And he is using you to get it.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Did he order you to form an attachment with me, so you could access the map?”

  “God, no! He threatened to send in another man, and I couldn’t allow it. I’ve had experience with Farrin’s henchmen. They are more like beasts than humans.”

  She sniffed indignantly. “I am capable of defending myself and my family.”

  “Not against these men. They do not fight fair.” He swiveled toward her on the settee, praying she could recognize his sincerity. “I didn’t lie about returning home when I left Wedmore House. Farrin and his men found me before I could make my way to the docks. I didn’t know Serafine had moved to London and married. Farrin threatened my sister and her family. He has no qualms about hurting you or your family either.”

  “But now that I know there is danger—”

  “You are underestimating the blackguard, and I won’t allow any harm to come to any of you. You cannot fight these men and defeat them.”

  “Perhaps you are correct.” Her shoulders sank on a sigh. “Sophia and Evangeline know some Wing Chun but not enough to hold their own. And Aunt Beatrice is too vulnerable. It seems our best defense will be to find what he wants and get it out of Wedmore House. What type of map are we looking for?”

  “Farrin wouldn’t say, and I chose not to debate the reason that knowledge would be helpful. The man is easily provoked, so I didn’t press the issue. Could it be something in your uncle’s collection of antiquities?”

  “Evangeline is better acquainted with Uncle Charles’s finds, but an old map would require special care.”

  “Does your uncle keep all of his treasures at Wedmore House? Could Lord Wedmore have hidden some away and drawn a map to recall the location?”

  “It seems like a stretch. Uncle Charles wouldn’t need a map unless he buried his finds, and that goes against the grain with antiquarians. My sister might have some ideas. There would be no need to proceed with the wedding once we turned over the map.”

  His gut clenched. He didn’t want to let her go. When he was with Regina, his heart was lighter and heavy with fullness at the same time. She made him long for things he never had before, like setting down roots and creating a family with her.

  She skimmed her hand up the back of her neck, squeezing different spots along the way. “We should find Evangeline and Sophia and begin looking for the map.”

  He scooted closer and took over rubbing away the tight knots he discovered just below her hairline. “I’m sorry for surprising you last night,” he said. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, sometimes my neck bothers me for no reason.”

  By his observation, she had many reasons. Figuratively, she tried to carry too much on her shoulders, and the amount of responsibilities she assumed weighed a lot. She closed her eyes and leaned toward him to rest her head on his shoulder, allowing him better access to her neck.

  Her nearness ignited a fire in his lower belly, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to embrace her. His arm slid around her waist, and he continued to softly knead away the knots.

  “I don’t expect your forgiveness, Regina, but I will beg for it. For lying to you. For misleading your aunt about our relationship. For every mistake that I’ve made or will make in the future. If you never believe anything I say again, please trust that my admiration for you is true.”

  He continued to work the tightness from her muscles, and she released a moaning sigh. “Perhaps soon we can put the past behind us and become friends,” she said.

  Placing a kiss against her hair, he breathed in the spicy citrus scent of her soap. He savored this moment of peace, knowing what he was about to say would likely mean losing the privilege of holding her like this. “There is something more I should tell you.”

  She eased back to eye him warily.

  “I won’t allow you to cry off,” he said.

  She sat up straighter. “I beg your pardon?” She bit off each word.

  “I can guarantee your safety as your husband.”

  “No.” She shook her head and tried to bolt from the settee, but he snagged her around the waist and made her sit again. Her glare could incinerate him. “Consider this fair warning, Xavier. If you don’t release me, you will regret it.”

  If she wanted to break free, she could have done it already. He wasn’t holding her in place, and she had the skills to incapacitate him for a moment.

  “Listen to reason,” he said. “Farrin might have said he wants the map, but there could be more. I can’t protect you if we are not together, and I care too much for you to see you harmed.”

  To say he cared was a gross understatement. Regina had gotten under his skin from the moment he woke to find her caring for him, and now she was dangerously close to capturing his heart.

  She scoffed. “I don’t need a man’s protection. I can save myself, thank you very much.”

  “We will agree to disagree, and as your husband, if I determine it is safest for you and your family to come to New Orleans with me, I will hear no arguments.”

  She lifted her chin in challenge. “How do you think you will stop me from crying off, Mr. Vistoire?”

  He buried his hands in her hair and tousled it.

  She protested, jerking away. “Have you lost your senses?”

  He reached for her again, and she smacked his arm away.

  “Stop that! How do you like having your hair mussed?” She dove forward and drove her fingers through his curls. He simply smiled and let her do her best. She plopped back on her side of the settee and scowled. “Why are you smiling?”

  He untied a decorative bow on the bodice of her gown. It accomplished nothing,
besides making her appearance untidy and riling her temper even more.

  “You scoundrel!” With her mouth set in a hard line, she grabbed his cravat and wrestled the knot free. When she was done, it hung loose around his neck. “There,” she said with a satisfied nod. “I’ve bested you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so, Miss Darlington?” He snatched the end of the sash tied around her waist and pulled.

  Sparks shot from her eyes. “You incorrigible beast!” She attacked the top fastenings of his waistcoat and drew back. Apparently thinking she could do better, she unfastened the rest and pushed the waistcoat and jacket off his shoulders.

  She sat back, her hands still gripping his clothes. Her amber green eyes were nearly black. He and Regina were both breathing hard. A wild hunger welled inside of him.

  “Regina.” His warning was issued in a husky voice.

  He didn’t know who moved first, but their mouths collided, and he lost the battle with himself.

  Twenty

  Regina twined her arms around Xavier’s neck and sagged against his hard chest. He groaned deep in his throat, hugging her tightly, his arms like iron bands. Every part of her front molded to him—his hard muscles different from her own body.

  His mouth possessed hers, his tongue sliding between her lips when she sighed. He tasted of mint, and his kiss was deliciously hot. When he withdrew, she tentatively flicked her tongue into his mouth, testing the boundaries. He angled his head to allow her better access and splayed his hands on her back.

  Before she was even close to feeling satisfied, he pulled away. She barely refrained from pulling him back.

  “Regina,” he murmured. Her name sounded more glamorous when he spoke it. “I didn’t intend to compromise you in reality. I only wanted to make it appear that way.”

  His confession should have infuriated her, but she ached to kiss him again. She slid her hand to his chest and detected the violent throbbing of his heart. “Then make the trouble I’ve gotten myself into worth it.”