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Authors: Lynn Messina - Miss Fellingham's Rebellion

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BOOK: Miss Fellingham's Rebellion
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When he was assured of Catherine’s comfort, the marquess said, “Everything went according to plan. Halsey, Martindale, Bainbridge and I asked Finchly if he wanted to join us in a game in the back room. He was so flattered by the invitation that it didn’t occur to him to wonder at it. I had arranged the room with the owner beforehand, and he told Munson—the man you call a ‘house with a scar’—to serve us watered-down drinks and Finchly the real stuff. I wanted him to be a trifle foxed and not thinking clearly. I hoped that he would cheat on his own, but his losses were minimal and I could not detect anything suspicious. Then your sister showed up and practically gave the whole thing away—several times, I might add.”

Catherine sputtered and tried to interrupt, but Deverill would not let her.

“Don’t deny it. You
did
almost ruin everything,” he insisted. “For one thing, you cough like a lady.”

She had never heard anything so ridiculous. As if ladies coughed any differently than gentlemen. “That is so—”

“Once your sister arrived and upset the cart,” continued Deverill as if Catherine had not spoken, “I decided to put an end to the whole charade. I made a gesture to Munson that indicated it was time. He then pretended to bump into Finchly, all the while planting the incriminating card on him. Munson used to be the finest pickpocket in Piccadilly before he grew too large to be invisible, although he still moves with enviable speed.”

“Good show, sir,” cried Freddy admiringly. “I’m sorry that my sister nearly toppled your scheme. I tried to keep her out of it, my lord, but I’m afraid she coerced me.”

“Think nothing of it, my boy,” Deverill said, surprising both Freddy and Catherine with his good humor. “I know how convincing she can be when she wants something.”

Freddy smiled, relieved that he wasn’t going to be taken to task for his sister’s behavior. The rest of the ride home was consumed with his questions, and when they arrived at the Fellingham town house, Freddy said, “Are you sure you don’t know who Halsey’s tailor is? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a coat cut finer.”

“Don't be silly, scapegrace,” his sister scolded. “How would Julian know a thing like that?”

“He might not know, but he could find out,” Freddy said, looking embarrassed and hopeful at the same time.

Again, to the surprise of both Fellinghams, Deverill laughed. “I shall devote myself to solving the mystery first thing in the morning.”

Freddy smiled hugely. “Thank you, my lord. You’re a regular out-and-outer.” Just then, the driver opened the door and Freddy shook hands with Deverill before climbing out. “We are greatly in your debt, and if there is ever anything the Fellinghams can do for you, it would be our pleasure.”

“Actually, I have something in mind,” he said, “but I’ll take it up with your father.”

As Catherine moved to climb out of the curricle, an arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back against the seat. She looked at Deverill in amazement, but he only grinned widely at her and told Freddy that they would both be in in a few minutes. And then her blasted brother shut the curricle door and left her alone with him.

“My lord, I don’t think—”

Before she could say anything more, she was pushed back against the cushions and ruthlessly kissed. She thought about protesting, but the sensations were far too enjoyable and she just sank deeper and deeper into the web of desire he was weaving.

After several minutes, he pulled back slightly, although his body was still pressed against hers. As soon as her lips were free, she resumed her sentence from earlier “—that you should—”

He cut her off with another kiss, and when he released her this time, he placed a finger over her lips to keep her from speaking. “No, not this time. You’re
not
going to do that to me again.”

She stared up at him, baffled. Since his finger did little to impede speech, she asked, her voice not quite steady, “Do what to you?”

He looked at her from beneath hooded eyes glinting with desire. “Ask me if that is all in that cold, indifferent voice you used last night. Because this time I can feel you trembling in my arms and because this time I won’t believe that you feel nothing at all. And I won’t walk off in a huff and resolve never to speak to you again. I know better now.”

Recalling the scene at the Rivington ball, Catherine closed her eyes as the humiliation washed over her anew. How could this have happened again? Why did she have to dissolve uselessly every time he came within two feet of her?

Deverill felt her tense in his arms and shook her quite violently. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, “and look at me, damn you.”

She complied, responding reluctantly to the anger she heard in his voice.

“We’re going to have this out once and for all,” he said, tightening his hold on her, “and neither one of us is leaving this carriage until we are well and truly engaged.”

Catherine was so shocked by this announcement that she would later swear that her heart stopped beating for an entire minute. “Engaged?” she whispered. “But that’s madness.”

“I don’t care. We will stay here all night if we have to. Of course,” he said, considering his plan, “such a development would leave you horribly compromised and you’d have to marry me anyway, but if you agree now, you will at least be able to pass a comfortable night in your own bed.” He pressed himself against her. “Not that this is such an awful alternative.”

Catherine’s body responded to this closeness of his, but she refused to let desire cloud her thinking. ”I don’t want to marry you.”

“Yes, you do. You are so in love with me that you can’t bear the thought of living without me,” he said confidently, “and yet you are going to give it a try because you think that
I
think that you’re the veriest quiz.”

This was so close to the truth that Catherine shuddered. “’Twas you who said it,” she reminded him with considerable asperity.

“Stop being so damn hen-witted,” he demanded. “If I did say that—and I’m not quite convinced that I did—it was months and months ago.”

Amazed, she looked at him. “Months ago? My lord, it was only two weeks ago.”

“Was it?” he asked unconcerned. “Well, it feels like a lifetime ago, which is all that signifies. And it’s completely unfair of you to hold that against me. What did I know then?
How
could I have known? I hadn’t a clue that Bella’s new project was the thoroughly charming woman I’d just met at the British Museum. When we did finally meet formally, in the park, if you recollect, while you were out for a drive with that puppy Pearson, I was most surprised to discover the truth. I’d already intended to pay you a call, you know. I’d given your direction to the driver and as such knew exactly where to find you.”

Catherine’s heart tripped as she realized that he had felt it, too—that sense of connection that had struck her so strongly at the museum, though it was a mere shadow of what she felt now.

“Really?” she asked, afraid to believe in what still felt to her like a fairy tale too wonderful to be true.

“My dear remarkable, beautiful girl, what do I have to do to convince you that I love you?” he asked gently. “I have already saved your sister from a wretched marriage and your family from public disgrace. I have asked you to marry me. I have even agreed to ask Halsey who his tailor is as a favor to your brother. Surely, if
that
isn’t a sign of a besotted suitor, I don’t know what is.”

She laughed softly at the last, for it did strike her as a rather extreme measure, and she recalled what Lady Courtland had said about the ladies he usually courted. Perhaps in his experience, she really was remarkable. “But this afternoon when I tried to broach the subject, you interrupted me,” she said, recalling the painful scene. “I screwed up my courage to declare my love for you right there in Lady Courtland’s drawing room and you told me to go home.”

“My love,” he answered foolishly before enveloping her in another consuming kiss. “You must forgive me,” he said, when at last his lips were free. “I was still smarting from the insults you had dealt me the night before, and I am afraid my pride got in the way.” He hugged her tightly. “Really, to tell me that you were using me to meet other men! Neither my ego nor my heart could easily get over such a setdown. I will have to tread very carefully with you, my dear, for you are far too skilled at punishing me.”

“I didn’t know I could hurt you,” she said, marveling that it was possible. “And what about you, my lord? What terrible things you said to me this morning. Calling me an ape leader to my face and stating outright that I should welcome an offer from Finchly. How could you believe that of me?”

“I trust you’re not going to hold me accountable for the mad ravings of a jealous man. You cannot know what it’s like to see the woman you love coming out of the apartments of another man at an indecently early hour,” he told her, laying soft kisses along the nape of her neck until she could no longer think of a reason why he shouldn’t.

Catherine thought in retrospect that it was a very likely possibility that they would have passed the entire night in the carriage after all had Evelyn not come pounding on the door. The two barely had a moment to separate before the door opened and Evelyn’s blond head popped in. But even though they managed to put a respectable distance between them, what they had been doing was readily apparent from their flushed faces and labored breathing.

“Oh,” said Evelyn, momentarily taken aback but then forging on carelessly. “I just couldn’t wait any longer. Freddy told me the marvelous news, and I wanted to thank you both.” She leaped into the carriage and threw her arms around Catherine. “You are the finest sister in the world, and I am so horribly sorry for all the mean things I’ve said to you.”

Despite her sister’s poor timing, Catherine was happy to see her. She had wanted to break the good news to Evelyn herself, but she should have known Freddy wouldn’t be able to wait. “I always knew you never meant it.”

Evelyn kissed her on the cheek before releasing her. “And I know that’s bouncer, but thank you, dearest, for saying it.” Then she gave similar treatment to Lord Deverill. At first he was stiff with surprise, but after an almost comically helpless look at Catherine, he relaxed in Evelyn’s arms. After a few seconds, she let go. “I know it is not at all the thing for me to go around hugging strange lords, but since you are going to be my brother, I don’t think it at all exceptional.” Evelyn clapped her hands happily. “Oh, what a perfect evening. I am given an eleventh-hour pardon from a horrible life sentence—the details of which you will have to tell me yourselves since I don’t think Freddy quite understands all that happened—and you, my dearest sister, are proposed to by the handsomest peer of the realm. Mama is going to be so happy. Speaking of which, you have five more minutes alone in the carriage before Freddy comes out. He’s awfully worried about Catherine’s reputation and he was all set to come out here, but I insisted he let me. Freddy doesn’t have the deep understanding of matters of the heart that I do,” she explained confidentially before jumping out of the carriage.

“Well, my lord,” said Catherine once her little sister had closed the door and restored their privacy—at least temporarily.

“Well what, my love?” he asked softly, rejoining her on the cushion.

“Five minutes isn’t a very large amount of time, and I am still not fully convinced that you want to marry me,” she said slyly.

With a soft laugh, he gathered her close. “Don’t worry. By the time Freddy gets the bottom to come out here and pull you forcefully from my arms, you will be.”

About the Author

 

Lynn Messina
is author of ten novels, including the best-selling
Fashionistas,
which has been translated into sixteen languages. Her essays have appeared in
Self, American Baby
and
the
New York Times
Modern Love column
,
and she’s a regular contributor to the
Times
Motherlode blog. She lives in New York City with her husband and sons.

The Harlow Hoyden

What good is a
libertine
if

he won’t
seduce
your sister?

 

 

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BOOK: Miss Fellingham's Rebellion
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