Page 29 of Bedding the Marquess
“Is this how all of my birthdays will be from here on out?” Gideon asked, still slightly breathless. His deep voice sent apleasant rumble through her chest. “Because I will gladly accept this.”
Caroline chuckled and lifted her head to gaze down into his face. His molten gray eyes were so soft. The tilt of his mouth was so charming. The heavy brows and high cheekbones, the lock of dark hair that had fallen onto his forehead, the hard line of his jaw with its barest hint of evening shadow, all of it together made her heart flip in her chest. She pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead and said, “It does not need to be your birthday for such treatment.” His lips curled into a broad, wolfish grin. She didn’t hear the words he’d been about to say because she caught sight of the clock placed atop the nearby writing desk. How had they managed to pass that much time?
“We should prepare for supper!” she said quickly, raising herself off of Gideon’s lap, heedless of the warm trickle now spreading down her inner thighs. She’d have to bathe now, which left her even less time to prepare.
“Why the rush?” Gideon asked as he tucked himself back into his breeches and fastened them. “I thought you said supper would be delayed?”
“Because we agreed that we would treat tonight with some pomp and circumstance—wear fancy dress for dinner and such; treat it as the special occasion it is. That takes time to accomplish.” Their bedchambers were located in the newer wing of the house, relatively far from the bustle of the party preparations and arriving guests. Gideon’s valet had been enlisted to provide distractions if there were any suspicious sounds, and Caroline hoped that would be sufficient.
“But it is just us two.” He tried to pull her back down to sit with him, but she danced just outside of his reach.
“Supper is already going to be later than usual, and I do not wish to delay it further by being tardy. You know how grumpy I can become when I am deprived of food.”
“Do I ever,” he said in mock horror.
“Go on, you insufferable man. I shall see you in two hours.” She playfully swatted his arm and would have turned to go to her bedchamber had he not pulled her into his arms and planted the most toe-curling, erotic kiss upon her mouth.
“As long as you promise I can unwrap my present later,” he growled into her ear before stepping away and quitting with a bow that left her head spinning.
Chapter Fourteen
“Iam toldLady Swanleigh is already belowstairs,” said Gideon’s valet, Walters.
Odd, thought Gideon. He normally retrieved her from her chamber and they descended together to dine. Perhaps she had some last-minute preparations to complete—a small gift or a special dessert. He was not one who normally enjoyed celebrating his birthdays; his childhood had largely been absent of such frivolity. Caro, on the other hand, enjoyed life so much that she looked forward to any opportunity to celebrate it. He could humor her in any way she liked, so long as she continued to smile at him as if he’d hung the stars. A man could become addicted to a woman who saw him that way.
Gideon strongly suspected he already was.
Striding out into the hallway, he was so busy adjusting the cuffs of his black formal coat that he did not become aware of a low din and the glowing of hundreds of candles until he’d already turned the corner to the top of the stairs leading from the east wing to the great hall. He froze immediately, caught between a mixture of awe and disbelief. Assembled below were dozens of guests dressed in evening kits, glittering gems, and opulent gowns. Standing front and center was his wife.
Caro beamed up at him, joy and pride so gloriously evident in her expression. She’d donned an elegant silk gown in hunter green. It displayed the expanse of her pale collarbone to perfection and hinted at her increasing bosom. The cleverdraping of the fabric helped mask her pregnancy, but it wouldn’t be long before she required new gowns to accommodate her growing body. Her rose-gold hair glittered in the warm candlelight, even more so from the pearl-tipped pins woven into the curls and plaits. She held her gloved hand aloft, toasting him with a crystal glass. The rest of the party followed suit.
“Happy birthday, Swanleigh,” she said, her voice ringing clear. “One year older, but never one year wiser.” It was followed by a chorus of “hear, hear” and laughter as everyone toasted to his birthday, his health, and his longevity. Familiar faces filled the room; friends, former classmates, neighboring lords and gentry. Gideon had eyes only for his wife. Never before had he experienced such an outpouring of love, and he knew Caroline was the catalyst of it all.
He descended the stairs and immediately walked up to his wife. Taking her hand in his, he pressed his lips to her knuckles. “However did you manage to plan this beneath my nose?” he asked, utterly astonished.
“I have my ways,” she said, unable to mask her pleasure at his surprise.
“I am impressed, Lady Swanleigh,” he murmured and accepted a glass from a servant.
The entire evening rang of Caroline’s touches. From the local flowers to the guest list, the menu to the entertainment, all of it was perfectly catered to Gideon’s preferences. She truly seemed to have thought of everything. As he moved through the crowd with Caro on his arm, Gideon simply could not have been prouder, or more in love with her.
He was in conversation with Blackwood, the man’s latest stunning paramour by his side, when he felt Caro’s fingers tighten around his arm. He turned to see what had grabbed her attention and, on the far side of the room, he caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man dressed smartly in a well-tailored blackevening kit. Beside him, his angelic wife glittered in an ice-blue gown that made her eyes appear to glow.
Oliver and Emily.
Gideon glanced between them and his wife. Not only had she thought to invite them, but she’d convinced them to attend. He could hardly believe his eyes. She was a bloody brilliant little mastermind, his wife. A powerful emotion washed over Gideon—some tenderness he could not name. Gratitude? Relief? Whatever it was, he knew Caro would remain by his side while he sorted it out.
He and Caroline excused themselves from Blackwood and traversed the room to where Oliver and Emily stood, looking elegant, if slightly uncomfortable. Curious glances were being cast their way. Other guests were beginning to wonder who they were and, likely, to marvel at the similarities between Oliver and the guest of honor. He couldn’t blame them. It was only the second time he’d seen his half brother in person. The resemblance was uncanny, especially when they were dressed nearly identically.
“Mr. and Mrs. Black,” Gideon said in cheerful greeting. “I am so pleased to see you made the journey from London.” He bowed over Emily’s gloved hand before extending his hand to Oliver. The other man eyed the appendage—likely unused to the gesture, Gideon thought—before taking it.
“Happy birthday,” Oliver said in his no-nonsense tone. “Though I will admit that I was transported here under false pretenses.” He shot Emily a loaded look out of the corner of his eye. “My wife convinced me we were to look at a small country cottage.”
Emily had the good grace to appear slightly bashful. “Sometimes it is easier to lie a little and deal with the consequences later.”
“I should have known better when you insisted upon packing my good clothing,” Oliver grumbled, though even Gideon could tell he was far less put out than he was pretending.
“A country cottage sounds so lovely!” Caro piped up, her face split into a glorious smile.
