Owen paced the length of his bedchamber, wearing light trousers and a dressing gown, but no shirt. His valet, Evan, had come and gone, having seen to helping him undress, putting away neckcloths, cuff links, and a hundred other minor details of Owen’s wardrobe. Normally he and Evan would converse at length on any number of topics but tonight he had one thing on his mind.
Rowena Pepperwirth.
Such a lovely young lady and perfect for his needs. Even though he hadn’t had a chance to speak with her that evening, he’d seen enough to know he’d happily bed her. He’d asked Evan tonight to discern where his future bride was sleeping. Apparently she was in the opposite wing, just past the suit of armor on the left.
Owen checked the clock on the marble mantelpiece above the fireplace in his chamber. Half-past midnight. Surely she was asleep by now. All he needed to do was slip inside her chamber and wait to be “discovered” when Evan would find a reason to have Rowena’s maid come to check on her. Stalking over to the door, he cracked it open and peered into the hall. Empty. No servants were within sight and no houseguests either.
He slipped out of his bedroom and hastily took the route Evans had described. The golden light of the hall lamps and the rich red carpet made the hall feel warm and cheery. It put him in good spirts. This plan was going to work. He paused at reaching the chain mail knight. His reflection cast off the shiny helmet was almost comical and he smiled. After tonight his future would be secured; he would have a lovely young bride and Wesden Heath would have a fortune to sustain it.
Two more steps and he was facing Rowena’s door: the woman who would become his wife, albeit through scandalous measures, but Wesden Heath needed to be protected and supported.
“You’ve got this, old boy,” he muttered in encouragement, and reached for the door handle. The latch clicked down and the door pushed inward to the darkened room.
Good. She was asleep. Padding softly into the room, he closed the door behind him. It was impossible to see except for the sliver of light cutting through the thick baize curtains draped in front of the window. Eventually his eyes adjusted to the lack of light and he made out a bed against one wall. Walking carefully over to the window, he swept a hand in between the curtains, pushing them apart. The milky moonlight now bathed the bed and its occupant enough to tease Owen with a view of a languidly stretched body with healthy curves. Bedding Rowena once they were married would be a most enjoyable experience and he would teach the innocent young lady how to seek her own pleasure, too. He would see to her happiness once they’d settled in at Wesden Heath.
Rowena shifted in the bed, sighed, and kicked one leg free of her blankets. Silky white skin made his fingers ache to stroke up from her delicate ankle to her upper thigh. Lord, the temptation to touch her, to take what he wanted was so strong, but he mastered his control. Rowena suddenly rolled restlessly in his direction and then she gasped.
“Who are you?” Her voice was a panicked whisper.
“It is me, Owen Hadley. I’ve come to—”
“Mr. Hadley?” The outrage in her tone was surprisingly forceful and her voice was deeper than he remembered, a sensual huskiness of a grown woman, rather than a young woman of eighteen.
“Rowena.” He paused, unsure of what to say, but she sat bolt upright in bed and fumbled by the wooden nightstand. A rasp of a match and then an oil lamp bloomed, casting a light on the woman in his bed.
“Good God,” he cursed.
Mildred, not Rowena, glowered at him, her long, dark chestnut hair in a luscious tangle of wild waves about her shoulders. For a moment he was utterly distracted by the thought of threading his fingers through her hair as he tilted her head back for a kiss.
“Mr. Hadley, leave my chamber at once before someone sees you.” Mildred only then seemed to realize her nightdress had ridden up her legs and she tugged it down before she slid out of bed. The fabric clung to her more than she expected it to.
“Please, Mr. Hadley.” Her plea broke through the haze of his building curiosity and desire.
Right, Mildred, must leave now…Then sanity restored itself in rapid fire and he headed for the door. The moment his hand touched the knob, he had to stumble back as it opened. A lady’s maid with a shawl about her shoulders and a lamp in one hand froze upon seeing him.
“My lady…,” the woman murmured in a hushed sound of shock. The situation was far worse than Owen could have predicted.
Lady Pepperwirth in her dressing gown and hair unbound, stood just behind the maid, her keen eyes sweeping over Owen and the scene with surprise.
“Constance said she was informed you’d taken ill, Milly dear,” Lady Pepperwirth said, but her frown said everything her words did not. “It seems it is not an illness that plagues you, but something else.”
“Mama, Mr. Hadley came here by mistake. He was just leaving—”
Lady Pepperwirth entered the room and motioned for Constance to come in as well.
“Silence, Milly. The damage is done. The four of us know what has happened tonight, but we cannot let word spread or else we will have a serious problem.” Lady Pepperwirth turned on Owen.
“You, Mr. Hadley, will ask for Milly’s hand tomorrow by speaking with my husband. I will tell him he should accept and the wedding will be done within a few weeks. If anyone asks, you two have had a secret understanding the last year and are now to be married. Is that understood?”
Owen sputtered. “I…”
“You’ll be properly compensated, Mr. Hadley. My daughter’s dowry is far larger than Rowena’s is.”
Could the viscountess read his mind?
“That is what you were concerned about, was it not?” Lady Pepperwirth’s chilly stare almost made him flinch.
Owen cleared his throat and nodded. “I will be honored to ask for Miss Pepperwirth’s hand first thing tomorrow.”
“Good. Now, I suggest we all retire for the night. Many preparations will need to be made on the morrow.” Lady Pepperwirth opened the door and nudged a still-stunned Constance out into the hallway.
For a long moment, Owen couldn’t move. His mind was blank and he just felt as though his feet were rooted to the carpet.
“What have you done?” Mildred hissed.
Her chiding tone got under his skin and he spun to face her.
“I’ve gotten us engaged, that’s what I’ve done, and we cannot get out of it.” He shoved his hands into his robe’s pockets, fuming.
Mildred walked right up to him and jabbed a finger into his bare chest through the parted robe.
“You thought I was Rowena. It was her you meant to compromise, wasn’t it?”
He grasped her wrist, but rather than push her hand away, he held on to it, admiring the soft, warm skin beneath his hand. Her pulse raced wildly at that delicate point on her inner wrist where his fingers curled around it.
I should let go. But he didn’t. He was staring at her bright blue eyes so full of fire and those soft rosebud lips in a pout that made him want to kiss them, perhaps take a nibble…
“Hadley, are you listening to me?” She struggled to free her wrist from his hand.
“Owen. Please, call me Owen. We are to be married.” He tried to bite back a sudden smile at the entire ridiculous situation. He wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare to be married to her or not. He would have to wait and find out. There was something undeniably fascinating about riling Mildred’s temper. Even if he was condemned to marry the harpy, he could at least laugh about it.
“Fine. Owen. And if you call me Mildred again, I’ll…”
His lips twitched. “You prefer Milly, then? So do I. Thank heavens we agree on one thing at least.”
Her feminine huff of displeasure made him chuckle. Just like October and July. They were opposites. What a dreadful match they would make.
“You’ve ruined everything!” Milly snapped, but he saw the glimmer of hurt in her eyes rather than anger. Had she loved another? Was he robbing her of a man she’d intended to marry?
“Milly, did you…” He swallowed before continuing. “Did you have an understanding with another man?” Why he wanted her to say no he wasn’t sure. The thought of her weeping into a pillow over another man after she became his was not a pleasant thought, not that he wanted her. He didn’t. He wanted Rowena.
Milly sighed, a little tear dripping down her right cheek as she pulled her wrist free of his grasp. She walked around him to her bed and sat on the edge, tucking her knees up under her chin like a child.
“I didn’t want to marry anyone.” She sniffed and looked up at him. “And now I’m to be stuck with you.” She waved a hand at him and then sniffed again, her eyes too bright, too full of tears. Had he ever believed Mildred—Milly—Pepperwirth capable of tears? No, he hadn’t. She’d always been this bastion of female spinsterdom to him. Beautiful, but cold and untouchable. Who was this teary-eyed beauty whose tough lit an unwelcome yet undeniable fire in his blood?
He was moving before he was aware of it. He eased down beside her on the bed and cupped her chin, turning her face toward his.
“Milly, I’m sorry I’ve done this to you, to both of us.” He meant it. They were stuck with each other.
Her long lashes fluttered, tears coating her lips like tiny crystals.
“Then don’t go see my father tomorrow. Just leave. I’ll not tell a soul what happened.”
He shook his head. “The damage is done.” He shifted a few inches closer, his hand on her chin sliding around to cup her cheek. Her skin was soft as silk and he half closed his eyes as he fixed on her lips. He had the sudden urge to taste her, a woman he couldn’t stand.
“Let me kiss you,” he begged in a ragged whisper. Swept away by a surge of desire, he wanted to taste this woman’s lips to see how fiery she was when she wasn’t verbally sparring with him.
“What?” She blinked in surprise and drew back an inch.
Every predatory instinct in him took over and he dipped his head, bruising his lips over hers, light enough for her to still withdraw or to lean forward. Her mouth trembled against his and he felt her lean in, just a bare quarter inch. He curled his fingers aground the back of her neck and held her still for his plundering kiss. He tasted her, teased her lips and stroked the tip of his tongue along the seam of her mouth. A soft little throaty sound escaped Milly and he wanted to crow in triumph. The lady could be seduced after all!
It took a surprising amount of willpower for him to separate their mouths. He rested his forehead against hers and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs as they shared panting breaths.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted, and I am sorry.” He kissed her again, this time on her cheek, and exited the room before she could say another word or shed another tear that he would see.