Chapter Twenty
I will do whatever it takes to make Arden love me. I shall begin by employing every trick of seduction I have ever learned.
—Roslyn to Fanny
When Drew woke to find himself sprawled on the sofa, a host of drums pounded inside his skull, while his roiling stomach chimed a chorus of protest at the abuse it had suffered.
Sitting up gingerly, Drew held his throbbing head in his hands. The stench of whiskey permeating the library was no doubt ruining his priceless collection of rare books, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a bloody damn.
He had lost Roslyn. Given her up to his rival. Which explained why the agony in his heart pained him even more than the agony in his head.
What an utter imbecile he’d been, encouraging Haviland to go after her. Now that he was marginally sober, he could only lament his insane moment of magnanimity.
Had Haviland proposed to her by now? If so, had she accepted?
Drew clutched his head harder. He couldn’t bear to think of it. And yet he could think of nothing else.
What in hell’s name was he to do now? If Roslyn hadn’t accepted Haviland’s suit, Drew decided, he would go after her himself. He would make her wed him, even though she didn’t love him. And then he would spend the rest of his life trying to win her love.
Oh, God…she didn’t love him.
And she didn’t believe he could ever love her. He would have to show her that he did love her. Rather desperately in fact.
He wouldn’t let Haviland have her, even if she loved the bastard. He wasn’t ever going to give her up. He couldn’t. Not a damn thing in his life made sense without her.
Yet he might be too late….
With a muted groan, Drew pulled out his pocket watch and realized that the time was already past noon. He would have to call on Roslyn to learn his fate—but he had to bathe and change his attire first.
Rising, he dragged himself to the door and emerged carefully from the library, squinting against the brighter light when he reached the grand entrance hall.
His majordomo was standing at attention but appeared not to notice Drew’s disheveled appearance and bleary eyes. Advisable, since a wise servant knew better than to show disapproval of his master’s foibles.
“May I assist you, your grace?” the butler queried quite properly.
Drew winced at the sound, for it only made his head throb harder. “Yes, Foslett. You can have a bath drawn for me, and then order my curricle made ready in an hour. And have the library cleaned and fumigated at once.”
“Very good, your grace. Would you care to see your messages? Two came for you this morning, but I disliked disturbing you. One is from Lady Freemantle.”
Constance, was Drew’s first thought. His heart skipping a beat, he sliced through the seal with his forefinger and read the short note.
Her ladyship reported that Constance had rested fairly through the night and seemed a little better this morning. And the physician was more optimistic that his patient would eventually recover.
It was some consolation, Drew thought morosely, that Constance’s prognosis was improving, even though his own fate was so precarious.
“Thank you, Foslett. What is the second message?”
“It is from Miss Roslyn Loring, your grace,” the butler said, handing Drew a folded sheet of vellum.
His heart somersaulted…and then continued beating erratically as he ripped open the missive.
Dear Duke, I would be pleased if you would meet me this evening at eight o’clock at Fanny’s special private residence, Number Eleven Crawford Place. I have a proposition to put to you.
Your friend, Roslyn.
Warring emotions of hope and dread battled inside him. What the devil did she mean by inviting him to meet her at Fanny’s private house?
Drew glanced at the butler. “You may send a reply to Danvers Hall, confirming my acceptance.”
“The message did not come from the Hall, your grace, but from here in London. I believe the footman was employed by a Miss Irwin.”
Drew frowned in puzzlement, but he wasn’t going to question what Roslyn was doing in London. He would simply pray that she was giving him a second chance at loving her.
Crawford Place, Drew discovered from his coachman, was situated only a short distance north of Hyde Park and boasted a dozen row houses that appeared elegant and quietly expensive.
It seemed surprising that Fanny Irwin would own a sedate residence in this genteel neighborhood, given her status as one of London’s leading Cyprians. Yet it surprised Drew more when he arrived promptly at the appointed time and the front door was opened by a masked woman in a shimmering gold domino.
His heart, which was already thudding with tension, started pounding wildly when he met the glimmering blue eyes behind the glittering mask. The seductive, mysterious beauty was none other than Roslyn.
That she wore her hair down, her pale gold tresses spilling in seductive disarray around her shoulders, surprised Drew most of all.
“Your grace,” she murmured in a low, husky voice as she stepped aside to let him enter. “I am delighted you could come. Welcome.”
Without waiting for his reply, Roslyn shut the door behind him, then turned and glided toward the nearby staircase. When Drew stood rooted to the floor, staring after her, she glanced over her shoulder at him and crooked her forefinger, beckoning. He hesitated a moment before gathering his wits and following her up the stairs.
He found his tongue as they reached the top landing. “I suppose this is Fanny’s secret love nest,” he remarked, trying to discipline his apprehension. “Does she entertain her more exclusive clients here?”
“No, never,” Roslyn said unexpectedly. “This is her personal hideaway where she can enjoy a few moments of privacy now and then. Fanny conducts business at her main residence and never invites her patrons here. She loaned this house to me for the evening.”
Impatiently wishing that Roslyn would tell him the purpose of her invitation, Drew accompanied her down a dimly lit corridor. “I admit I was surprised to receive your message,” he prodded. “You said you had a proposition to put to me.”
“Indeed, I do.” Roslyn sent him an enigmatic glance. “I want to be your mistress for the night.”
His eyebrows rose, but before he could reply, she led him into a large bedchamber that glowed softly in the light of myriad candles. Taking in the romantic ambience, Drew nearly found himself speechless again. “I can’t say I understand, sweeting,” he finally said.
“I want to pretend that I am your mistress and that you are my patron.”
Her response made his breath catch and his heart thud. He had no time to ask any of the urgent questions running through his mind, however, for Roslyn took off her concealing mask, then unfastened her domino and let it fall to the carpet.
Drew’s mouth went dry. She was dressed like a male sexual fantasy. She wore a red lace corset cunningly shaped to push up her high, ripe breasts and show her bare nipples, and black silk stockings held up by red garters, but nothing else. His cock swelled instantly at the lush sight of her, while his voice turned hoarse.
“What do you think you are doing, Roslyn?” he asked warily as she moved toward him.
Her eyes were dusky pools of temptation as she gazed up at him. “Making love to you, what else?”
“Hold just a moment….”
Her lips, full and wet, pursed provocatively. “You don’t want to make love to me, darling?”
“You know damned well I do. But if you intend to wed Haviland…Don’t torture me like this, Roslyn, playing these wanton games.”
“Oh, but I don’t intend to wed Haviland,” she remarked to his scalding relief. “I turned down his offer.”
Drew expelled a long, harsh breath, yet her declaration still couldn’t calm his anxiety. “Why did you refuse Haviland?”
“Because I don’t love him.”
He hesitated a long moment, almost afraid to ask the infinitely more crucial question. Finally he ventured to say even more hoarsely, “And do you think you could ever come to love me?”
When her smile wavered, Drew hardly dared to breathe. Then she laughed softly. “All in good time, darling. I must keep some secrets, mustn’t I?”
Drew wanted to curse, to argue, to plead, yet he didn’t think it would help his cause. Not when Roslyn was so intent on her own inexplicable purpose.
Reaching up to untie his cravat, she slid the fine cambric from around his neck and tossed it to the floor. “You are wearing too many clothes. Let me take them off.”
“I can manage.” Not trusting his fortitude if Roslyn touched him, Drew forestalled her assistance by stripping off his coat and waistcoat and shirt himself. But when he reached for the buttons on his evening breeches, she smiled. “Please…allow me.”
Provocatively, Roslyn trailed a finger down his bare chest and over his flat abdomen to the front placket of his breeches. Drew sucked in a sharp breath as the teasing pressure of her fingers made his throbbing erection ache even harder. Yet he forced himself to stand still for her pleasurable torment.
To his growing frustration, she slowly unfastened the buttons, holding his gaze until she finally freed the thick length of his arousal. When she glanced down, irrepressible heat shot through Drew, not only because a beautiful woman was gazing at his burgeoning cock, but because the woman was his lovely Roslyn.
The heat assaulting him turned even hotter when she deliberately closed her hand around his swollen shaft.
Groaning, Drew grasped her wrist. “Roslyn…what the devil are you up to, tormenting me this way?”
Her lashes lifted flirtatiously, yet her eyes glimmered with tenderness and something resembling uncertainty. “Can’t you tell?”
It was that tender vulnerability that gave him hope. Whatever game she was playing, she wasn’t intent on revenge.
“I mean to seduce you, Drew,” she murmured, increasing the already erratic pounding of his heart. He recognized her strategy now; Roslyn was using his own lessons in seduction against him. He just didn’t know why.
But then, did it really matter? She would not want to make love to him if she believed they had no future together. And she was acting the siren, bewitching and alluring, pulsing with life and sensuality. He couldn’t possibly resist her.
“So you mean to play the temptress?” he asked hoarsely.
“Isn’t that what a good mistress is supposed to do?”
“I won’t argue with that—”
“Excellent, then don’t argue, darling.”
“—but you needn’t pretend to be a Cyprian,” Drew finished.
She flashed him a slow, enchanting smile. He forgot everything but the tantalizing promise in her smile…until she raised her face to kiss him lightly on the lips.
He reached for her then, desperate to pull her into his arms, but she danced away. “No, Drew, I want to be the one to make love to you. When you have removed the rest of your clothing, come to bed. I will be waiting.”
Drew gritted his teeth and stripped off his shoes and stockings and breeches in record time.
She was waiting for him as promised, stretched out naked on the satin sheets. She looked wildly desirable, her magnificent hair falling in a pale mane around her shoulders, her bare breasts enticing, her creamy thighs slightly parted in invitation.
Pure temptation, Drew thought, swallowing hard.
The smile lingered on her lips as she patted the mattress beside her. “Lie here with me, won’t you?”
Nothing on earth could have kept him from accepting her invitation. When he had obeyed, lying on his back, Roslyn placed her hands on his chest and rose up on her knees. “Be still, please.”
With effort, Drew lay there unmoving as she bent over him, feeling the warm press of her lips in the hollow of his throat, on his breastbone, over his rib cage, then lower. Sharp sensation shot through him as her hands began stroking in tandem with her soft lips, eliciting shivers of desire deep inside him.
His stomach muscles contracted when she trailed light, tantalizing kisses over his skin. And he found it difficult to breathe when her fingertips traced a sensual pattern down his manhood to the swollen sacs below. Every muscle in his body clenched—and that was before she bent down to his loins, where his aching arousal was thick and straining.
“Roslyn….”
“Hush, Drew. I want to give you pleasure.”
Her hands shaped the rampant length of him, making him throb, before she set her lips to the head of his shaft.
At the searing jolt, Drew inhaled against his raging need while his erection surged even higher. She was suckling him now, her tongue gently licking, swirling, making him ravenous for her. Groaning, he sank his fingers into Roslyn’s golden hair and surrendered to the gentle sorcery that enthralled him.
In only moments, he was half out of his mind with pleasure, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might come out of his chest, his hips straining against the alluring magic of her hot mouth.
Finally unable to bear her inflaming torment any longer, Drew reached down between her thighs, cupping her slick center, intent on making her as mad with arousal as he was.
“No, be still,” she murmured between moist, tantalizing kisses.
“Roslyn…I can’t wait much longer.”
Lifting her head finally, she gazed up at him with blazing-hot eyes, while her tender smile returned. “I cannot wait, either.”
To his relief, she shifted one knee over his outspread legs. Letting her damp cleft slide up his thigh, she lay fully on top of him, her silken body covering him, her hot, feminine core brushing against his phallus, caressing him.
Then slowly, she stretched up to kiss him, sliding her tongue slowly into his mouth in a heart-stirring claiming.
Drew kissed her back fervently, drinking of her warmth, cherishing her taste, her touch. When she pressed herself harder into him, the sinuous movements of her body inflamed his blood and the intensity of his longing.
He was nearly wild for her by the time she finally broke off the kiss and sat up to straddle him. Holding his fevered gaze, Roslyn braced her palms against his chest and lowered herself onto his pulsing shaft.
Feeling desperate now, Drew raised his hips and plunged into her waiting sweetness, deep inside her sleek, wet passage, seeking the fire and solace of her. He groaned as joy and pleasure created a riotous explosion of sensation in him.
It only made him hotter when Roslyn uttered a breathy whimper as he filled her. And the flush of heat and desire on her exquisite face told him she was feeling the same ardor for him.
Embracing him with her thighs then, she rocked her hips in a more urgent rhythm, demanding more from him. Drew whispered her name on a harsh breath. He was trembling now, shaking with his need for her, holding on with the last vestiges of willpower. Rasping her name again, he arched his back and thrust upward, his penetration increasing until he was buried as deep as her soul.
His desperation kindled a fierce flame in her. Roslyn began to move on him wildly, riding him, using her hips to stoke his frenzied passion. She was a ravenous temptress, demanding and wanton. She was flame-hot in her desires.
When Drew grasped her buttocks and pulled down hard, impaling her to the hilt, she finally gave in to her need, meeting him thrust for thrust, her moans increasing with the ragged sound of his, their mating raw and primal.
His body surged upward with his powerful climax just as her breathy scream exploded in the hushed room. She fell forward, sinking her teeth into his shoulder as the convulsive waves of passion crashed over them both. The sweet pain of her lover’s bite only added to Drew’s joyful pleasure.
It was indeed joyful, making love to the woman he loved. His feelings for Roslyn made his passion more intense, more precious, more incredible.
As the feverish urgency ebbed, they lay there exhausted and panting, her cheek resting on the sweat-dampened skin of his shoulder. It wasn’t long, though, before Drew’s blissful contentment faded and his tension returned.
When the rise and fall of her breathing finally gentled, he repeated his earlier question in a low voice. “What is this all about, Roslyn? Why are you so set on pretending to be my mistress?”
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she shifted her head to look up at him solemnly, with that same vulnerable, uncertain expression as before. “Because gentlemen love their mistresses, Drew, and I want you to love me.”
Just like that, his heart began pounding violently again. His voice was uneven when he managed to rasp, “God, Roslyn, I do love you. More than I ever thought possible.”
Her blue eyes riveted on him. Her face was rapt, tense, her eyes wide with uncertainty. “You do?”
“Yes. I’ve loved you for weeks now.”
Shakily, she pushed herself up on one elbow. “You have not.”
“I have,” Drew insisted. “I just couldn’t admit it to myself.”
When her mouth parted in awe, he reached up to run his thumb over her lower lip. “Do you remember what you told me about heart love? I know now that is what I feel for you, sweet Roslyn. My passion for you is far more than physical. I want you, yes. My body trembles when I touch you and aches when I can’t. But my heart aches more. I miss you when you aren’t with me. I long for your smile. And I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”
When she continued to stare at him in stunned silence, Drew lowered his voice even further. “These past few days have been utter hell for me. Yet being without you made me realize just how much you mean to me. How much I need you. I need you to fill the emptiness inside me, Roslyn. To banish the loneliness. It’s a need that comes from here….” He took her hand, placing her palm over his heart. “Deep inside me.”
“You do love me,” she said wonderingly, searching his face.
“Yes, I do. And I want to marry you.” A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “Until recently, the thought of spending a lifetime shackled in matrimony to one woman seemed a prison sentence. But now the thought of not spending the rest of my days with you is terrifying.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “I hope to God you will have me as your husband. I’ll grovel if necessary. I will do anything to have you back. I know I have to earn your love, but I want the chance, Roslyn. Please give me that chance.”
Her gaze softened and warmed. “You don’t have to earn my love, Drew. It is already yours.”
Drew squeezed his eyes shut in relief and gratitude; the emotion that rolled through him was so powerful, so deep, he felt weak with it.
“You truly love me?” he asked in that same awed tone.
“Yes, Drew. I tried so hard to resist loving you—because I thought my love would only be one-sided. I feared you would never be able to give me your heart. Even yesterday, when Lord Haviland said he was certain you loved me, I wouldn’t dare let myself believe him.”
Arching an eyebrow, Drew stared at her. “Haviland said that?”
“Yes, because you were determined to put my happiness before your own.”
“I do want your happiness, Roslyn.”
She smiled softly. “That is fortunate, because I want it, too. But my happiness lies only with you, Drew. I realized that when you sent Haviland to propose. And I knew that even if you didn’t love me, I couldn’t let you go without a fight.”
Roslyn smiled faintly. “That is why I invited you here tonight. I vowed I would try to make you love me. I thought that if there was any chance that my theory was right—that passion can lead to love—I had to try. So Fanny helped me formulate a plan to become your mistress for the evening.” Her blue eyes turned vulnerable again. “I am willing to settle for your passion if that is all I can have. I will be your mistress, Drew. But I would far rather be your wife.”
His sense of humor returning with the dissolution of his terror, Drew was able to flash her a rakish smile. “Your offer is tempting, sweetheart. I’ve never had a mistress as enticing and satisfying as you. But I must refuse. I don’t want you for my mistress, my lovely, precious Roslyn. I want you for my wife, and I won’t settle for less.”
“Are you certain?” she asked cautiously. “I don’t want you to feel as if I entrapped you.”
“I’m certain, Roslyn. You are my only happiness as well.” His expression sobered. “I can’t believe how barren my life was before I met you.”
He’d suffered a cold emotionless existence until Roslyn had come along to warm him. She had touched a part of him no one had ever touched, a part he’d denied existed.
He had wasted so much of his life without love, Drew reflected. Roslyn had taught him that life wasn’t worth very much without passion, without emotion, without love.
Emotion welled inside him as he captured her hand, his long fingers twining with her slender ones. “So this means we are resuming our betrothal?”
Holding his gaze, Roslyn shook her head slowly. “No, Drew. I won’t hold you to our former betrothal. If you want to wed me, you will have to offer for me again. And this time it cannot be merely to save my reputation but solely because you love me. Because you want to spend the rest of your life with me.”
“Very well, love, will you please, please do me the incalculable honor of becoming my wife?”
Her warm smile made him ache with a sweetly intolerable pain. “Yes, my dearest love. I will, and gladly.”
Drew slipped his hand behind her head, capturing her nape. “Thank God….”
Bringing her lips down to his, he kissed her fervently, which sent fresh desire coursing through Roslyn’s blood. She knew Drew was feeling the same urgency when, with one deft and powerful twist of his body, he rolled her beneath him.
Cradling her thighs in his own, making her feel his swelling hardness, he stared down at her. Roslyn drank in his expression…his dark, passion-hazed glance, the blazing possession in his eyes. She saw love there. Hot, possessive, protective, arousing.
“Drew, I love you so much,” she whispered in reply, returning his look measure for measure.
“I won’t ever tire of hearing those words….”
He rasped her name, then took her mouth again. With the same passionate fire Roslyn opened to him and breathed him in.
Their ardor built as he worshiped her with hands and tongue. It seemed to Roslyn that she could never want more…Drew’s melting kisses, his hands cherishing her body. But then he fit himself to her, entering her with fierce strong tenderness, thrusting in hard and deep as his lips murmured words of love.
The rapture swelled, mounting, thundering. His wild kisses kept coming, interspersed with fervent declarations of love as he took her body. He wooed her to madness, then healed her again as he poured himself into her, body and heart and soul.
When their passion was finally spent, Drew cradled her in his arms lovingly, his face nestled in her hair, his fingers absently playing with her pale locks.
It was a long while before he spoke, though. “I was terrified that you loved Haviland.”
Deliciously sated and weary, Roslyn found the strength to press a kiss against his bare shoulder. “You had nothing to fear, Drew. I couldn’t fall in love with him because I was already falling in love with you. There was no reason for you to be jealous.”
“Of course there was. You had set your sights on marrying that bastard.”
She laughed softly. “You cannot keep calling a belted earl that disparaging word, Drew.”
“Very well, he isn’t a bastard. But can you blame me if I was insanely jealous? I think you should feel flattered.”
“Perhaps so, but you should never have threatened to kill him. I believe you owe Haviland a sincere apology.”
“I might give him one, now that I know you don’t love him. But if he ever dares look at you again with lust in his eyes….”
Her laughter was exasperated and satisfied at the same time. “He won’t look at me that way. He has too much honor. And hopefully, he will soon be occupied with his own romance. I mean to help Lord Haviland find a bride. In fact, he asked for my help.”
Raising his head, Drew gazed at her a long moment before finally chuckling. “I knew he wasn’t a total imbecile.”
“Drew!”
“All right…I will become his bosom friend, if it will make you happy. But if I might use him to make a point…” Drew gazed deeply into her eyes. “The next time you and I argue—which undoubtedly will happen again—you needn’t run and hide in the library. I’ll never stop loving you, Roslyn, even if I sometimes lose my temper and you want to throttle me for it.”
She winced. “We were not merely arguing. We were shouting at each other, fighting bitterly.”
“Even so, that doesn’t mean I don’t love you with every fiber of my being. And in the future if we fight, we can have the pleasure of making up.”
Her mouth slowly quirked. “That is what Fanny said.”
“Fanny can be very wise sometimes.”
“I know.” Roslyn shook her head in amusement.
“What is it, love?”
“I was just thinking that I am not very wise sometimes. It was terribly naive of me to try and decree my own fate. I thought I could arrange my future to my specifications, to avoid the pain and heartache my parents endured. But I was wrong. You cannot apply scientific methods or rules of logic to matters of the heart. You cannot dictate love, any more than you can control fate.”
“But I am very glad you tried.”
“I, as well,” Roslyn said softly.
Drew brought her fingers to his lips for a tender kiss. “I want to have our wedding right away. I’m not letting you change your mind again.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“I still plan to obtain a special license.”
Roslyn frowned a little at that. “Drew…Arabella and Marcus are still away on their wedding trip. I want my sisters at our wedding, and Tess and Winifred also. Winifred would be heartbroken if we were to exclude her. And I’m certain my mother will want to return from France to attend. I will write her at once, but it will still take time to arrange her travel. I should think you would want your friends there, too.”
“I do. And I suppose we don’t want our union to look rushed.” Letting his head fall back onto the pillows, Drew sighed. “I generally loathe weddings, but in this instance I suppose it would be best if we call the banns and hold the ceremony at St. George’s. Three weeks should give ample time for all your family to return. Is your younger sister still in Hampshire?”
Roslyn hesitated, not liking to lie. “Lily is…somewhere else.”
“Somewhere else? Do you know where?”
“Honestly? Yes. But she made me promise to keep her location a secret, for fear of Winifred’s hounding her to find a husband.”
It was Drew’s turn to sound amused. “Your sister’s secret is safe with me. I’m not about to get mixed up in Winifred’s matchmaking for any price.”
“I wish Winifred could understand that her efforts are not appreciated. Lily has a severe distaste for matrimony—even stronger than yours. Indeed, I doubt she’ll be overly delighted that I am marrying you. But at least I know Arabella and Tess and Winifred will be thrilled for me.” Roslyn lifted her head from Drew’s shoulder. “Your mother will be disappointed, won’t she?”
“What of it? Pleasing my mother is my very last concern.”
“I wonder if she will refuse to attend the ceremony.”
“Oh, she will attend, I have no doubt. She won’t want to be left out and have it said that her son severed all connection with her. She couldn’t bear to suffer the social consequences.”
Roslyn felt a little sad for the duchess. “I think your mother must be terribly lonely.”
“Somehow I can’t feel any pity for her. She brought her loneliness on herself—” Drew stopped and slipped his hand behind Roslyn’s nape again. “Thank God you saved me from a life like hers.”
Smiling, Roslyn traced a finger over his lips. “Drew…” she said, returning to the subject of their nuptials, “I know you have your consequence to uphold, but I want Fanny to attend our wedding.”
“Of course she should attend. I owe her an enormous debt of gratitude for bringing you to the Cyprians’ ball. Otherwise I would have stayed as far away from you as possible.”
Her look turned arch. “I think I deserve some credit, my lord duke.”
“Perhaps you do. You demanded that I teach you how to seduce another man, but my tutoring backfired on me. I fell in love with my pupil instead.”
Roslyn brought her face closer to his. “I think I need another lesson in seduction, your grace.”
A devilish light of pure happiness glimmered in his eyes. “It will be my sincere pleasure, love.”
Capturing her mouth, Drew smothered her laughter against his lips as he obliged.