An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,116

placed into government positions and those men Pearce had seen at the Hellfire club to track down any with ties to Scepter, but so far little had turned up. Arthur Varnham had covered his tracks well, as had Marigold Humphries, the prostitute who had given him the information with which to blackmail Frederick. She’d completely disappeared, in fact. The men believed that she’d fled to escape Scepter, but Amelia knew better. She’d told Frederick to take anything he wanted with him when he left. Most likely he took her, too.

The men had yet to discover Scepter’s endgame, why they wanted those men in the government, why they were willing to have them placed as low-level trustees. Yet the men had succeeded in drawing attention to government appointments, which would be made more carefully at all levels going forward. In that, at least, they could claim a victory.

Scepter was still alive, but they’d succeeded in cutting off another arm from the monster. Someday, they’d kill it outright.

Pearce grinned. “I want to give you your engagement gift.”

His thoughtfulness warmed her. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

“You’ve given me your heart. I don’t need anything more.” But then he paused. “Except your dowry. That I need from you right now.”

She blinked, caught completely off guard by that. “But we’ve never discussed—”

“Your locket.”

Her hand shot up to her neck to clasp it. “I don’t—I don’t understand…”

“I want it back.”

She didn’t stop him when he reached behind her neck to unfasten the ribbon. But she didn’t like this. Not at all. When he slipped it away, she felt utterly naked and exposed.

Unease twisted her belly. “Pearce, what are you playing at?”

“Nothing. I’m perfectly serious. I’m giving you your engagement gift.”

He reached into his inside breast pocket and slowly withdrew a long blue ribbon. From the end dangled a new gold locket.

Her eyes blurred with tears, and she trembled as he fastened it around her neck. To do something this thoughtful, this poignant… At that moment, she couldn’t find her voice to tell him how much she loved him.

“But it’s also our marriage settlement.”

“Pardon?” She wasn’t expecting that. They hadn’t negotiated anything.

“I put it inside the locket.” When she hesitated, he insisted gently, “Go on. Open it.”

With trembling fingers, she opened the tiny clasp and revealed the slip of paper tucked within. She unfolded it to read—

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Her tearful gaze darted up to his, and he smiled lovingly at her shocked reaction.

“This…can’t be right,” she whispered hoarsely, overcome with emotion. His masculine handwriting declared that she would keep all of her current fortune, including Bradenhill. To do with however she’d like.

“I assure you it is. Merritt told me that it can stand as a legal contract in court once you agree to it.” He took the slip from her trembling fingers, refolded it, and closed it inside the locket with a soft snap. “But I warn you that none of the terms I’ve proposed are negotiable. Especially my pledge never to put a turnpike through your property.”

“I love you.” She flung her arms around him and pressed him close, as tightly as all her strength would allow. “I love you so much!”

When he kissed her, she tasted his love for her in return.

She leaned into the embrace, and desire sparked instantly between them. He kissed her possessively and hungrily, and a soft whimper of need rose from her throat. One he answered with a growl and a caress of his hand along the side of her body.

She shivered and reluctantly reminded him, “We can’t…let this…get out of control.”

“Oh yes, we can.” He tilted her head to the side and nipped his teeth at her exposed neck.

Somehow finding enough resolve through the fog engulfing her, she slipped from his arms. “We cannot.” But dear heavens, how much she wanted to! Panting to catch back the breath he’d stolen, she reminded him, “We don’t know how long it will take for the annulment to be formalized. No matter much I want you—and believe me, my love, I dearly want you”—she punctuated that with a caress of her hand down his waistcoat—“we can’t risk that I might become enceinte. We’ve already taken too much risk already.”

“It will be a long time, then,” he agreed, raking a gaze of such heated longing over her that she ached from it. “A very, very long time.”

Her lips parted, about to murmur terms of surrender—

“Perhaps not as long as you think,” a deep voice called out from the shadows