Page 116 of The Last Chance
Perhaps Rothley had another reason to hire Flynn.
Perhaps there was someone else he hoped to find.
Aaron did as Rothley asked. He had no intention of spending his wedding day with the brooding marquess.
Flynn was talking to Sigmund, admiring his new tailoring. “Aaron must be paying you well. I recognise the cut of your coat. It’s from Beaumont & Finch.”
Sigmund brushed imagined dust off the sleeves. “I could have bought a small cottage in Cornwall for what this cost.”
“You run the most notorious gaming hell in London,” Aaron said, slapping his friend on the back. “It’s important to have a commanding presence. Before long, you’ll attract attention from the ladies at The Jade.”
Sigmund laughed. “I may look like a gentleman, but I’ve manners coarser than a sailor’s tongue. Though Betsy at The Saracen’s Head had no complaints.”
A sudden peal of laughter drew Aaron’s attention to where his brothers stood near the impressive bow window. The sight tightened his chest. He recalled the terror on their faces that firstnight in the rookeries—mere children taken from an elegant home in Mayfair and dumped in the street like unwanted dogs.
The road to happiness had been long and gruelling.
At times, he’d thought they wouldn’t make it.
But like the rest of England, his family had embraced change. Come the spring, Aaron would be an uncle, and again in early summer. His role as family patriarch was far from over. A fact that brought a broad smile to his face.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Joanna said, sliding her arm around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.
He drew her around to face him and lowered his voice. “I’m counting the hours until we’re alone again. I have a deep desire to make love to my wife. I can’t wait until tonight.”
Her gaze dipped to his mouth with the same fervent hunger. “Anticipation is a potent aphrodisiac. It’s said to heighten one’s pleasure.”
He pulled her close and pressed his mouth to her ear. “I’m on fire. I’ll combust before we reach the Adelphi.”
“Two nights in the best suite should help to work the excitement out of your system.” Her hand slid covertly under his coat, and the minx squeezed his buttock. “Then again, we’ve been rampant for over a month.”
“Perhaps you might surprise me like you did last Sunday.”
Aaron had gone to retrieve some papers from his study at Fortune’s Den and found the door locked. He entered to see Joanna sitting in his throne with her feet propped on his desk, wearing nothing but her stockings and his silk cravat.
She smiled at the memory. “How many times had you sat at your desk and imagined gripping my hips and sinking deep into my body?”
“More damn times than I’d care to count.”
She laughed and patted his chest. “Rothley has a maze somewhere in the grounds. We might imagine ourselves at Mrs Flavell’s wild party.”
“It’s snowing.” He was thinking of her comfort, not his own.
“Since when has the weather deterred us?”
“You’ll need a cloak,” he uttered, arousal pumping through his veins.
“We can’t go yet. Lucia is about to sing. She desperately wants to please you, Aaron. Delphine bought her an elegant new dress.”
Mrs Lowry was right. Against the odds, Lucia was a kind, caring girl who just wanted to be loved. There was something of himself in her, the part that wasn’t hateful and bitter.
He wrapped his arm around Joanna’s waist and listened to his youngest sister sing while Delphine played the pianoforte. Pride filled his chest. The aria stirred a deep sense of gratitude that he’d found someone he loved so profoundly, and the slight ache that came with knowing it was precious.
Aaron glanced at Rothley. His lips were pressed in a tight line, a furrow cutting deep between his brows. He wore a mask of silent anguish, as if every note pierced his heart.
While they all clapped to cries of an encore, Rothley left the room.
The next song was more uplifting, and Lucia bowed to rapturous applause.
