Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,130
know what price to ask in the marketplace.”
The parson gasped, and Jasper thought the man might faint.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Harken, dear readers. Lord M__ has married Miss S__ in a stunning turn of events. An utter surprise from this rakish earl. Many young ladies hoping to be countesses did not get their wish this Christmas!”
-The Morning Post
When they returned to London a few days later, he realized his long-time companions at White’s treated him a little differently after he settled up with a smile on his face. He was no longer a Corinthian, shirking his responsibilities in society. Amongst those who knew him best, there was utter disbelief, but it gave way to encouragement. He was welcomed to the band of brothers who’d made the step into matrimony.
Knowing he would never again chase a skirt or end up in a mysterious woman’s bed didn’t unnerve Jasper in the least, not when he lay between Julia’s thighs. Their second night back, her face wore an expression of pure desire, looking up at him as he strove to take her over the edge.
She fairly flew apart, gasping out his name, making his own lusty climax follow swiftly. Jasper would swear each time they docked it was better, another new experience for him. Instead of becoming bored, he would swear she grew more interesting to him by the day. After all, he could never grow tired of the woman who now lived within his heart.
She wore his banyan and he wore nothing at all, as they sat in bed on Grosvenor Square, drinking claret after an hour of passion. It would be absolute decadence if they weren’t already happily married.
“We are the talk of London, but in a good way. For me, that’s a first,” he declared.
She laughed. “I suppose for me as well.”
“Congratulations are pouring in. Mother feels like a queen whose heir is finally doing his duty. Speaking of heirs, I sent word to Prinny today, asking for an audience.”
Instantly, her face came over anxious.
“Have you been contacted by Bow Street?” she asked him. “There was a letter dated Christmas Eve at my sister’s home from the magistrate’s office, summoning me for interrogation.”
“They know better than to bother you now that you’re the Countess of Marshfield.” He liked to watch her nose crinkle with a bemused expression whenever he said that. “They understand you are under my protection. And yes, to be honest as I always will be, they have contacted me. They want to talk to you, but we will speak with the Prince Regent first. Have no fear.”
He made sure to look into her worried blue eyes. “Truly, do not let this concern you another instant. Do you trust me?”
Trying to be brave, she offered a crooked smile that endeared her to him.
“Yes, in fact I do.”
“Good, for I’ve already spoken to one of Prinny’s friends, and our meeting with him is a formality. All will be well.”
She breathed a sigh of relief, and he liked the way his robe, too large on her, gaped open, displaying the lush curves of her beautiful breasts.
“Now that’s settled, close your eyes.”
She hesitated.
“You said you trusted me. Go ahead. Close them and hold out your hand.”
When she did, he reached over and opened the drawer beside his bed. Withdrawing a black velvet pouch, he placed it upon her palm and closed her fingers around it.
“I have the perfect wedding gift for my new wife.”
She made a funny squealing sound, like a child. “A gift? May I open my eyes now, my Lord Marshfield?”
“I grant you leave to do so, my Lady Marshfield,” he teased.
She looked down at the pouch. “If I’d known I would receive a gift, why, I would have got married years ago.”
They both laughed, something they did a lot, which he found nearly as enjoyable as tupping her. Nearly. Moreover, her happiness had become as important to him as his own. And this gift was sure to make her exceedingly happy.
“Open it. Hurry.” As he’d hoped, her expression became joyful when she saw the contents spill out onto her palm.
“It’s my ring, I would recognize it anywhere, but it’s also very altered.”
“Do you like it?” He had been worried she would disapprove. “I know you are not one for jewelry.”
At his words, they grinned at each other again, and then he picked up the creation he’d directed to start while they were still at Marshfield Manor in Gloucestershire.
After he slipped it upon her finger, she examined it closely.