Page 6 of A Gentleman Never Surrenders
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 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 between the curtains, pushing them apart. 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 wanted his marriage bed to be full of mutual desire and ecstasy. A woman who was well loved in bed made a happy woman out of bed. And he planned to see to his future wife’s 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 with 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…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 eldest 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 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.
