Page 33 of For a Scandalous Wager (Breaking the Rules of the Beau Monde #3)

CHAPTER 32

“ W ell?” Evelyn asked Dalton when he stepped into the little arbor in the back gardens of Rosewood Manor. She couldn’t wait in the house, not if her father were going to rail. She didn’t wish to hear another argument between her papa and the man she loved with all her heart. And she had never been more nervous in her life. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t relish the scandalously delicious idea of eloping with Dalton, but she had hoped to have her family by her side. Winn and Adeline, and even little Chase. She wanted to send word to Clover that everything had turned out perfectly and that she should be preparing to help with her trousseau. More than anything, she wanted her papa there. She wanted to see him proud and happy like he’d been when Chase was born a week ago.

The first thing she noticed was Dalton’s frown, and her heart nearly sank. “Please tell me you have good news.”

“The good news is that you are mine, and I am yours. Is there anything more important than that?” Dalton said with enough gravity to throw Evelyn off a beat.

She growled with a sigh, her shoulders in a frustrated slump, her fingers crushing a plume of wisteria. “Seriously, Dalton.”

He shut his eyes slowly and grinned from ear to ear, a show of trying to bite back his joy for the sake of teasing her. When he opened his eyes, she ran into his arms, leaping a few inches off the ground and falling into him. She hit hard muscle, and unlike the day she toppled him when she fell from the trellis outside her window, today he stood his ground, solid as an oak. She kissed his smiling mouth and didn’t give a wit who saw.

“Your father wants to pay for a license and forgo the banns this time. I think he’s worried you might back out again because of the fiasco with that poor simpering baron. Is his concern justified? I told him I couldn’t know since his daughter is a mystery. He called it stubbornness. I called it a crazy goose chase.”

“I feel like I can finally shout that you’re mine, and all you want to do is tease me.” She pulled back, her arms still wrapped around his neck.

He rubbed a sculpted jaw against her cheek and whispered in her ear, “I can’t wait to tease you, my love.”

“I could meet you on the bench behind the hedgerow.”

“That hard bench? With your wild movements? My backside would not survive.”

“Then we’ll stand.”

“And risk my lumbar being thrown out of whack?” He exaggerated a grunt, pressing his hand into his side and bending slightly backward for emphasis.

“Is marriage to be all obstacles? If so, I’d rather be your mistress. I had great fun pretending to be your kept woman for a week.”

He looked at her lips, then he slid his hand down her arm. Neither of them were wearing gloves, and his heated fingers on her skin were almost as compelling as the seductive gleam in his gold-flecked green eyes.

The arbor was covered with mature wisteria. The thick shrub bore May’s first glorious colors of lavender, and the vines had been tended well for many years. Certainly long enough for the canopied structure to be amply covered in foliage and for the convenient redwood bench to be hidden from view. But the possibility of someone finding them there was greater than if he had taken her suggestion and headed for the hedgerow.

Evelyn didn’t care, though; she willingly followed him to the bench, catching the scent of wisteria mingled with the spicy notes of sandalwood that was all Dalton. He pulled her onto his lap and seared her mouth with kisses. She adjusted her skirts and straddled him. This was not an unfamiliar position for them. They had liberated a chair in the billiard parlor at Rochester’s house during her short stay.

Dalton pulled at her bodice, exposing her flesh for his eyes, his mouth, his tongue, and those wicked teeth that he managed to use with such devoted skill. A subtle thrill of audible joy came from her throat as he grazed her nipple between his straight white teeth and flicked the tip with his tongue. Then, her favorite part. The part when he sucked the sensitive tight bead into his mouth, and she gasped. It felt like forever since they’d been together. The last time they had any intimacy at all had been in her room at Adeline’s before the babe was born. There, he’d made certain they would have to wed, but every time before that, he had refused to finish an act that would lead to children. Not that they both didn’t want them, but Dalton had wanted so fiercely to keep her to himself that they had spoken of waiting to bring babies into the world.

She began to pant when he pulled her hard against his groin. She could feel the length of him through her petticoats and didn’t want to stop. No proximity was too close when it came to his embrace, and just now, she wanted his hot erection in all the best places. She pulled at her dress, fighting to free the tangled fabric from her legs, then practically ripped the buttons from his breeches.

He stalled her hands, and she looked up suddenly, ready to plead with him. “I don’t care who sees.”

“Good, because I like to watch.” He smiled, holding her hands out to the sides. “Let’s not go to the altar pregnant. That’s all I’m saying.”

“My flux is due tomorrow, is that close enough?”

“Damn sure,” he growled and then undid his own buttons.

When he’d released himself, she wasted no time, taking him inside with greedy thrusts, straining and reaching for every inch of him. Wanting to feel him at her core. She came too quickly for her liking, but this man could send her into pulsating pleasure with a look. She had the erotic memory to savor and prove it true. Of course, she may have been helping it along at the time, but the way he watched her encouraged her to do all manner of wickedly delightful things.

He tried to hold her still, thinking she wanted that. “Don’t stop, Dalton. Harder. It makes it so real. And, and… oh hell, it makes me want you everywhere.” She slid along him, slowly, seducing him until he was working at it with a fever.

The last thrust forced a gasp from her and a loud groan from him. Dalton clutched her to him. Between short, breathless sighs, he said, “I love you, Goose, so damn much.”

“You better, Dalton Rochester, because you ruined me with that game of draughts.”

A chuckle rolled from his chest, deep and satisfying. “Draughts,” he said in disbelief. “You took me down with a shilling.”

“One that you still owe me.”

“I missed the damn shot on purpose. It belongs to me.”

“I knew it. Dalton Rochester was afraid of a girl,” she replied with a giggle as she stood and fixed her skirts, and he rushed to put his breeches back together again.

“Not a girl.”

“Oh? A woman then.”

“A goose.”

“I’ll accept that, but only from you.”

“I forgot there’s one more thing. Your father did have a stipulation.”

She looked up from smoothing her skirts. “Something doable, I hope.”

“Not sure.”

“You’re worrying me needlessly,” she said, reaching toward him and smoothing a reckless lock of hair from his forehead. She took the opportunity to twirl the curling end around her finger like he’d done to her so many times. “This feels powerful. No wonder you do this to my hair all the time. A little twirl and one little tug.”

He bit his lip. “Like the rein on a horse, my dear.”

She pinched his chin and gave it a little shake. “You’re too bad. Now, what’s the stipulation?”

His hands stroked her arms with reassurance, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “That we take in a couple of tenants.”

“Tenants? Where will we put them?”

“Mayfair, I imagine, unless you have plans to live elsewhere.”

“Oh, for the love of… must everyone live with us?”

“It would seem so.” He gave her a squeeze. “Two chaps named Gaz and Bernard. Remind me which relatives those are?”

“My dogs?”

“Your dogs. He says they are driving him mad, and he promises to set them out if we don’t take them in.”

“Papa always says that. What do you think? Do you like dogs?”

“I like anything that’s yours.”

“My father?”

“I’m getting there, Goose. I truly am. I think the babe softened him.”

The next time Rochester stepped into the parish church where the banns had been challenged, it was with Evelyn on his arm and Lord Cumberland nowhere in sight. Mr. Hartley greeted them at the door, and they took a seat in the second row. It was a comfort to sit in church without the wrath of God breathing down Rochester’s neck. He gave the perfect knot in his cravat a short tug for the fourth time since they’d sat down.

“Stop fidgeting,” Evelyn whispered, leaning into him. “Are you a child?”

“Possibly,” he murmured. “I don’t like that your father is seated across the aisle.”

“Stop being suspicious and bow your head, for heaven’s sake. We’re praying.”

He felt like a child, peeking out over the congregation and seeing the vicar, eyes open, praying and watching Rochester fight his nerves to sit still. He wobbled a smile and squeezed his eyes closed.

The next he knew, they were singing hymns, which did nothing to calm his nerves since he imagined they had been invited to attend this particular service for a reason.

“And now is the time we mention any banns that are currently awaiting approval. Today, however, there is only one. There has been a concern brought to the forefront that perhaps needs clarification. I don’t think I need to say which concern.” The vicar tipped his head conspiratorially toward the crowd, eyeing them with unabashed glee.

Rochester nudged Evelyn. “Did you know about this? I thought there was to be no banns?”

Evelyn shrugged and stammered under her breath. “I… I can’t imagine what he’s doing. Papa’s been a free spirit, a new man since Chase was born.”

“I’d like to take the moment to introduce a very special parishioner this morning.” The vicar welcomed Evelyn’s father to the dais. “And you might be surprised to hear a familiar name, too.” The vicar winked. Actually winked.

Rochester glanced behind him, trying to locate Mr. Hartley. The gentleman was in the back row as if he were waiting for Rochester to seek him out. Mr. Hartley gave a bow of his head while wearing a joyous smile. Rochester felt, almost, as if a wedding was to take place that morning. And if he were not certain that Evelyn had been making plans for a more lavish affair, he’d have believed it so.

“I am Mr. Henry Markham, for those of you who may not know me.”

A ray of sunshine passed through the stained-glass window behind the pulpit, and Mr. Markham was suddenly enveloped by an orange halo like a fire had been lit behind him and set him aglow. A bit like the burning bush in Exodus.

“I asked to speak today on behalf of my daughter, whose name has been repeated thrice in the calling of banns this last month. Evelyn Markham, will you stand, my dear?” Evelyn’s father nodded at her until she nervously complied.

She looked over her shoulder at Rochester, silently pleading, but he only gave her a confused expression, shrugging his shoulders imperceptibly. Evelyn primly folded her hands at her middle, her reticule swinging from her wrist on a dainty yellow ribbon.

“My dear, today I wanted to read the only banns that will be allowed and the last to be read with your name. Although I’ve already paid for a license, I thought it might be nice if I made my acceptance public.” He turned his gaze to Dalton. “Mr. Rochester, would you mind?” Mr. Markham raised his hands like the conductor of an orchestra, motioning for him to stand.

Evelyn didn’t look at Rochester, and from the corner of his eye, he could see her hand fighting to keep from reaching for his.

“Thank you for indulging me today,” Markham said as he unfolded a piece of rattling paper and cleared his throat. “I publish the only banns of Miss Evelyn Markham”—he paused and cleared the emotion from his throat—“and Mr. Dalton Rochester.”

Rochester’s gut dropped as it had the first time he’d heard Evelyn’s name put to the banns. But this time, instead of his heart hammering in fear, it soared with joyous relief.

“There is no cause or just impediment to keep these two apart. I declare that love is the only argument for marriage. It is a safe place. A trusting lead into a future that cannot be predicted, which is why when two people are willing to set a congregation on fire with a claim to it, there is nothing to be done other than to honor a vow already taken. As someone who has loved deeply, it is a life force recognizable even in a storm. And there will be stormy weather ahead, my dear,” Markham said with a smile at Evelyn. “These are the last and final banns to be read. I declare it so. And Mr. Rochester, your love for my daughter is as complete a pledge as I’ve ever seen.”

Evelyn wiped tears from her cheeks. Rochester handed her a handkerchief as he fought himself for the need to use it. He had never made his own father proud. He had never been trusted without fault.

Not until now. Not that it hadn’t taken an act of God to cultivate it. And for all that, it gave him hope concerning his own father.

Today, he made his future father-in-law a permanent place in his heart.

It was a place where Evelyn had already been for an eternity.

He took the hand of his future wife and whispered a thanksgiving to God. To Evelyn he kissed her cheek and took the opportunity to say, “I love you, Evelyn Markham. My funny goose. You have always been my forever.”

“And you, my happily ever after.”