Page 32

To all appearances, Mr. John Davenport lounged comfortably in Lady Emma Renfrew’s well-appointed Mayfair drawing room. In truth, he was doing everything in his power to hide the fact that he was quaking inside.

There were several circumstances behind his uncharacteristic nerves, but only one held the place of honor.

Never mind that he was now ten thousand pounds in debt.

Never mind that his eldest brother had just threatened to cut off his allowance if he didn’t stop gambling.

Never mind that the father of the wealthy young heiress he had nearly succeeded in seducing last season was doing his damnedest to get John kicked out of their mutual club.

And never mind that John’s biggest creditor had summoned him—before noon—to her home.

No, what truly had John Davenport so unsettled was the fact that, for the first time, he was about to be alone in a room with the lady he’d loved from afar for over a decade.

Not for the first time, John wished he had gone into debt to anyone in the world other than Lady Emma.

Even some underworld villain would be better than this .

But events had been building toward this meeting for years.

John knew this. And now, it was time to pay the piper.

He just hoped she wouldn’t break his heart in the process.

John swirled the rapidly cooling tea Lady Emma’s manservant, Graves, had so obligingly brought while he waited for her ladyship and threw it back in one swallow.

He desperately longed for a cigarette to calm his shaking nerves, but knew it wouldn’t do to be seen smoking in her drawing room without an invitation.

Fortunately, at that moment, the French doors swung open, relieving John of his mounting nerves, and in walked Lady Emma, resplendent in a morning dress of blue silk.

At thirty-two, Lady Emma was still a striking woman, with fiery red hair and fierce blue eyes that cut right through any man—or woman—who dared cross her.

John could see the echoes of the eighteen-year-old Miss Emma Hart he had fallen in love with from across the dance floor so many years ago.

She still possessed the same keen wit and intelligence, but disappointment in a cruel marriage had hardened her eyes and the corners of her mouth.

At least widowhood agreed with her, giving her the space to shine as she truly deserved, rather than being shaped and molded by what parents, society, and her husband desired.

She published verses and novels under her own name, smoked and gambled with the most irresolute of rakes, and was even rumored to have taken a lover or two over the years.

This bold, fearsome reputation was the source of the proud tilt of her head and regal bearing.

John leapt to his feet and bowed. “Lady Emma, how lovely to receive your invitation this morning. I must admit?—”

“Let us dispense with the pleasantries, Mr. Davenport,” she said coldly, taking a seat on the couch across from him. Despite being shorter than him, she somehow appeared to study him down the length of her slightly crooked nose.

John sank back into his own couch, swallowing hard. This is most certainly about the seven thousand pounds I owe her.

She continued, “I have a proposition for you.”

John’s heart descended into his stomach, churning up the tea he’d just consumed. Suddenly, he wished he had refused the offer of a drink while he waited for her. Forcing down his unease, he offered his best charming, rakish smile and said, “I’m all ears, my lady.”

“I understand you are currently under the thumb of considerable debts, the majority of which are to me,” Lady Emma said, her voice cool, her gaze revealing nothing. “Is that not correct?”

John’s smile didn’t falter, but his heart rate picked up. “I’m afraid you speak the truth, my lady.”

“And what would you say if I were to offer you a way to pay off all those debts and wipe away your debt to me?”

John felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. His mind raced, searching for some sort of logical explanation for this turn of events, but found none. “I would be extremely interested in hearing more,” he confessed after a moment.

Lady Emma nodded once, then sat back. “I am also in something of a bind. As you are no doubt aware, I am the sole heiress of my great-aunt’s sizable estate.

With her recent passing, I am set to come into that inheritance.

Unfortunately, there is a… complication.

A condition. In order to inherit, I must be married. Not widowed. Not engaged. Married.”

As Lady Emma’s words sank in, John’s eyes widened. She needs a husband. Quickly. One who will be indebted to her and who won’t be in a position to impose his will on her.

As if reading the play of his thoughts across his face, Lady Emma nodded.

“I need a husband, and I believe you would make an excellent choice. In exchange, I will forgive your debts to me and cover all your outstanding debts. Beyond that, you will receive a regular allowance that should more than cover your expenses and lifestyle, though I would ask you to curb the gambling.”

John choked like he was being strangled.

Fourteen years ago, he would have gotten down on his knees and thanked whatever forces had brought this about.

The goddess of his youth, whom he had once been too nervous to even approach and speak to, was now proposing marriage.

A marriage of convenience, yes, but a marriage nonetheless.

And yet, it all felt too good to be true.

Like a dream he would be yanked from at any moment.

He struggled to put together the words to express his true sentiments without revealing just how much his heart was dancing with joy.

He finally settled on, “My lady, you do me a great honor, and I am sensible of the compliment you pay me by even suggesting such a thing. But may I ask… why me? I am aware of my considerable debts to you, but are there not other gentlemen in my position who would also be a suitable candidate for your future husband?” John had the delicacy to not mention the rumors of the lovers Lady Emma had taken over the years since her husband passed away.

For the first time since she walked into the drawing room, Lady Emma smiled at him.

It was a knowing, calculating smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“There are indeed other gentlemen who are considerably in my debt. Some who owe me even more than you. Yet despite your gambling and your reputation as something of a heartbreaker, you seem an honorable man who would abide by my wishes and respect my privacy.”

“Your wishes?” he echoed stupidly.

Her smile actually reached her eyes now.

“You and I are both too wise in the ways of the world to pretend we are anything other than what we are. In exchange for paying your debts and providing a comfortable allowance, you will allow me my complete freedom. I shall continue to come and go as I please, see whom I please, write what I please, and do as I please. You will have no power to curb me or check me. At the same time, I assure you the same freedom. This is the bargain I seek. Do you understand?”

I understand perfectly. Emma will be my wife in name only.

We will both continue to take lovers as we see fit.

We can both continue to gamble and drink and smoke and be seen as less-than-upstanding members of society.

John’s heart broke once again at the prospect of being so close to the object of his affection for so many years, yet so far away.

And yet, he would be closer to her than ever before.

Perhaps, in time, a solid camaraderie or even friendship could bloom between them. But oh, the delicious torture!

“Before I answer,” he said, shocked at the words coming from his mouth, “may I kiss you?”

Emma’s eyes widened for a moment, and she sat up straighter. John was on the cusp of taking back his request, worried about overstepping, when she said, “Of course. Since you asked like a gentleman.” She raised her chin, her eyes flashing dangerously. She was like a snake charming its prey.

John was aware that he was in grave danger of falling even deeper in love.

Swallowing thickly, he stood and slowly made his way over to the couch where Emma sat. His heart thundered in his ribcage, and he worried she could see his cravat move with the motion. As he sank down beside her, he caught the scent of her rose perfume.

I must not seem nervous , he thought, studying her blue eyes. He was looking right into them, yet there seemed to be a mask over them, hiding her true feelings. Perhaps she’s also flustered by my boldness.

Gathering all his courage, John leaned forward inch by inch, his body mired in sticky molasses. He could hear his pulse echo in his ears. Emma’s lips parted ever-so-slightly, as if she were about to protest, but as he leaned into the rose-scented goddess, her eyelids fluttered shut.

The instant their lips met, a current shot through John. It was like he had been struck by lightning. He broke away suddenly, his eyes wide and chest heaving. He wasn’t surprised that Emma looked the same.

For a moment, the mask before her eyes slipped, and John saw the woman behind it. Emotions swirled within them, threatening to spill out. Fear. Uncertainty. Desire .

And then, the mask was back in place, and she was Lady Emma once more: proud, confident, and in control.

His heart still pounding, John sat back and nodded once.

“I accept your offer, my lady. I would be honored to be your husband on your terms.” His voice was soft and earnest, and in that moment, he knew his career as a heartbreaking scoundrel was over.

Emma would let him live as he wished, but his only wish now was to kiss her again. And again. Every day. Forever.

Perhaps my career as a notorious rake has all been leading to this. Perhaps I can turn those skills I developed in seducing other ladies to seducing Lady Emma… to seducing my future wife…

Emma smoothed down invisible wrinkles in her dress, then stood abruptly.

Not looking back at him, she said, “Thank you. My solicitor will draw up the paperwork, and Graves will send over a list of my coming engagements so that we may attend and be seen together.” With that, she swept out of the room, indicating that John was dismissed.