“My personal carriage will come for you tomorrow so you can attend the wedding,” William promised.
Nervously, Bridget left the room to hastily pack the best dresses and nightwear she had that would serve for a few days, and carefully folded a blue silk dress into her bag—it would be her wedding gown.
Downstairs, she heard her aunt. “—don’t break her heart, Your Grace. The poor girl has had it ripped apart time after time.”
“I promise,” William replied steadily. “I realize I am the antithesis of the man you would prefer for your goddaughter, but I promise to make her life—and yours by extension—easier.”
“I will keep you to your word,” Lydia finished. “Do not disappoint me.”
CHAPTER 19
Keenly, William watched as Bridget investigated her new bedchamber, a room separate from his by a mere corridor and two doors. His staff had cobbled the interior together, raiding other rooms and the attic, to be cozy and welcoming, but he knew his masculine presence contrasted the primrose silk walls and Persian rugs.
The sight of the large tester bed in the master suite marked her face with anxiety—or was it anticipation?—and he felt the simmering anticipation in his own blood rise another notch himself.
Catching the way her glance darted to the bed, he hid a smile; the poor girl must be a bundle of nerves and he couldn't blame her. But he had given her his word and he was not going to renege on it—unlessshewanted it, of course.
She slipped off her gloves, the ring catching the last rays of the day. It gleamed softly, as if heralding a promise of things to come.
“Pleased?”
“It is more—” she swallowed. “—than I expected.”
“Good,” he nodded. “This is yours, your haven of privacy. I will not enter here again until you ask me to do so.”
“Thank you,” she came closer and rested her hands on his upper arms. Levering up from where he had leaned on the doorjamb, he did not speak. He wanted her to act on her impulses, not his orders.
Timidly, she tipped up on her toes and brought her mouth to his. Devil and damn, her lips were as plush as they looked, fitting perfectly to his firmer edges.
Even though he knew this wasn’t their first kiss, her kiss was everything an innocent Miss’s should be: soft and demure, a hint of wantonness in the way her tongue traced his lips. Her kiss spoke of a desire to please that aroused him utterly.
He could tell she wasn’t used to being in command, for she was attuned to his slightest reactions, her instinct to follow his lead. When he tested this by running his tongue along her mouth’s sweet seam, she parted her lips immediately, welcoming him in.
William kissed the way he did everything else: with absolute expertise… and handing over the initiative made her go pliant. His hands slid up to thumb over her nipples, and when her knees wobbled, he caught her securely against him.
“Oh no,” she mumbled. “That was… mortifying.”
“No, it was interesting,” he corrected. “It showed me how responsive you are.”
He lifted his hand, rubbing his thumb briefly over her bottom lip, which felt puffy from his kiss. “You did everything right. I will be away tonight, but we will marry in the morning.”
Bridget’s brows furrowed. “What is so important?”
“Remember our agreement,” he reminded, pointedly. “You should not ask about—”
“Your business, I know,” she mustered a small smile. “I suppose I will see you on the morrow.”
Thumbing her chin again, he kissed her one last time, enjoying the soft mewl that left her mouth.
With a bow, he ducked out of the room—there was another fight tonight, and this one, hehadto win.
Six matches down for the opening rounds, now, this; the next level.
As it was the second round, the fights were no longer in seedy back alleys and street corners—the rounds were now held on lords' well-ventilated rooftops.
The ropes squaring off the floor were rich velvet red instead of fraying, and the match-keepers and bookmakers were assembled already with mostly gentry men—and a few beside their wives—that made up the crowd.
“Are you ready for this?” Silas nodded pointedly to the ring. “The stakes are higher tonight. They’re allowing everyone to make bets.”
