Page 18 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

S o, she does want those same things!

Hudson looked at the young woman in his arms. She had not been lying in the hunting lodge, after all. He had had his doubts, but the flush that suffused her cheeks gave her away.

A slow smile spread across his face.

It was so rare to find a woman so honest about her physical desires—and oh so attractive.

Dangerously attractive.

“So, this list of yours…”

She regarded him with narrowed eyes. “I think this is not a topic I—an unmarried young lady—should be discussing with you .”

A scoundrel. A rogue.

The words hung in the tense air between them.

His smile widened. “Oh no, little cat. In fact, you could not have found a better man to discuss it with.”

When it came to that , he could be extremely helpful.

She rolled her eyes at his ill-concealed enthusiasm. “ Of course an inveterate rogue such as yourself would be interested in the hidden and scandalous desires of young ladies.”

That was only partially true. He did have an interest in the clandestine and the scandalous. And unlike those damned dandies, he not only dabbled in it, but he was also an expert .

As for young ladies? He was afraid he was interested in only one .

And therein lay the source of all his troubles.

Hudson pursed his lips.

It was one thing to act on his desires. It was another thing entirely for someone to be the only object of those said desires.

And right now, she was leaning into him, ensconced in his arms and his coat. The combination of their scents was a potent fragrance that had him straining against his breeches.

“I made that list the very first time Alexander insisted that I find a suitable man to marry,” she admitted softly.

“These are reasonable expectations of your betrothed,” he seconded most agreeably, while inwardly wishing the man would go to hell. “If not a bit too romantic.”

She let out a soft laugh tinged with bitterness. “The items on my list… I did not exactly expect them of my husband.”

Now, he was well and truly shocked.

“You mean to say,” he guessed, “that you are going into marriage with the intention of procuring a lover for yourself?”

It was hardly unusual.

Marriages were rarely happy or even mildly pleasurable unions, although his friends had done rather well for themselves. For Scarlett to accept the realities of such relationships amongst the ton…

A heaviness settled in his chest. She deserved more than that.

“This is a list I intended to fulfill before my marriage,” she clarified. “Not after .”

Bloody hell .

Hudson nearly plowed his hands through his hair.

She did not just say that .

And he most certainly should not take it as an open invitation to help her fulfill her damned list. No, he was the worst possible candidate for that, because he would never be able to let her go and watch her marry another man once he’d had her.

“Are all the items on your list… of that nature?” he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

He saw her eyes light up with mischief. Knew he should not allow himself to get sucked into the whirling sapphire vortex.

Too late.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Her voice had dropped to a distinctive purr that had every single one of his nerves standing in desperate attention. “But since you have made it clear that you do not intend to help me with it—or anything, for that matter,” she sighed. “Then I suppose I can find a more enthusiastic accomplice.”

Oh, she did not just say that.

“Like hell you are!” he snarled.

Scarlett wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I thought I told you to watch your language, Your Grace.”

Language be damned. Etiquette be damned.

“Never, ever say that again.”

“Someone really should chastise you for your choice of words, Your Grace,” she chided him.

She patted his arm as if she was talking to a goddamn child.

And then she frowned. “But really, if you are not going to help me at all, why would you say that?”

Hudson stiffened. How was he supposed to tell her that the very notion of another man looking at her could send him into a murderous rage?

And the thought of someone else touching her as intimately as he had? They would be most fortunate if they would still be able to find pieces of the poor fool after he was done with them.

But no words came out of him. Nothing that could satisfy her anyway.

“I see,” she murmured quietly. “In that case”—she disentangled herself from his arms and stood up—“I had better get back to my bedchamber.”

Yes, she should leave. Now. Yesterday .

Never .

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “How? The door’s locked.”

“Then I shall try again and again and again, even if it means I must wear my hands to mere stumps trying.”

So she would rather disfigure herself than stay locked up in the same room with him?

Had he been a lesser man, Hudson would have flinched at the bloody imagery. She had a frightfully morbid imagination and absolutely no qualms about flinging them around. She also hit her target every single time.

Blunt, but extremely effective.

He watched as she walked briskly to the door, and with a deep breath and an almighty wrench, the fickle knob turned easily in her hand. The mechanism slid so smoothly that Scarlett stumbled back in surprise.

“Well, it seems that even the door seems to agree with me,” she drawled. She bobbed a ridiculous curtsy, feminine anger flaring brightly in her eyes. “Good night, Your Grace.”

No! Hudson wanted to shout. Even his fingers trembled as his hand reached for her and caught nothing but air.

She had left the door gaping wide open in her wake. Only this time, she did not mean to walk back in.

And Hudson did not know why his heart felt very much like that door.

I should have known he would never agree to such a ridiculous proposal!

Scarlett clutched the robe closed at her neck as she hurriedly made her way back to her bedchamber, where she should have stayed the whole time.

Away from Hudson and the maddening game of tug-of-war he played on her emotions.

She closed the door behind her. Locked it for good measure. And then sagged against it, sliding down to the floor in an inglorious heap.

She heard a soft whine, and then moments later, a moist nose bumped affectionately against her hand.

“Oh, I am so sorry, darling,” she apologized to the puppy blinking sleepily at her. “Did I wake you up?”

Another nose bump and the pain in her chest subsided just a little. She sighed and buried her head in her arms. She would need a lifetime of nose bumps to recover from that very humiliating letdown.

“At least no one else witnessed that,” she muttered despondently. “Heavens, but it was so embarrassing. I was practically throwing myself at him!”

Snowdrop huffed and laid down at her feet, his dark eyes looking up at her with great concern.

“I should have known you would be the only one who would love me unconditionally,” she sighed. “Even Mama’s affections now depend on whether I will be able to find a suitable match this weekend. And here I thought that a mother’s love was unconditional. It seems I was mistaken.”

As for her brother, he had sent word earlier that his dear friend, the Marquess, did not waver in his intent to marry her. Not even the slightest.

And then, there was Hudson. Her chest ached at the thought of him. Now, she was certain that he held no affection for her. None at all.

Not even the tiniest bit.

Whatever feelings she thought he had for her were nothing but figments of her imagination. Wishful thinking and fruitless fantasies.

The kind that had a woman doing the most reckless, harebrained things.

If she had any sense left in her at all, she would take him up on his offer of a carriage away from Wolverton Estate, pack up her things, and head for a far more tranquil life in the country. She would be a social pariah, yes, but she would have her peace of mind. She would never have to worry about ballgowns and dowagers and matches and contrarian dukes who made her entire body sing in ecstasy.

She would have none of that, but she would at least have her own self. Her freedom. And that was what truly mattered.

Except her mother and Alexander would never allow her to do that. Her mama had all but given her an ultimatum—find a husband at the ball that weekend or marry the Marquess.

“I cannot believe he still wants to marry me after what I said to him,” Scarlett grumbled.

Most gentlemen would have run for the hills if their soon-to-be fiancées declared themselves ruined by other men. The Marquess was more persistent than she gave him credit for—a trait that she could not find it in herself to appreciate.

There is nothing to appreciate in a man who manipulates a woman into marriage .

She did not even know much about him, aside from the fact that he was a friend of her brother’s and he had already schemed himself into an engagement. The man’s sneakiness was truly top-notch.

She sighed again. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

Snowdrop nudged her hand again, and she gave him a sad smile. She did not even know if the Marquess liked dogs.

There was only one way out of this match made in hell. She would have to find another husband, and she had to do that at the ball that weekend. Her mama would never give her another chance.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Snowdrop,” she murmured. “And I cannot rely on the Wolf to help me out this time.” She grimaced. “He would be more likely to throw me out than offer a hand.”

This time, she would manage on her own, just as she had for most of her life.

Snowdrop yipped indignantly.

“All right,” she conceded. “This time, it would be just you and me, and so help me, Snowdrop, you had better not let me down.” She eyed the puppy sternly. “I’ve had enough men letting me down—you cannot be one of them.”