Page 75 of My Hellion, My Heart
“Did you see it?” she asked groggily.
Irina nodded, but didn’t feel like conversing. She leaned back against the squabs and looked out the window, the narrow streets of London filtering past. Irina drew a deep breath, chasing the last of the death flower’s stink away.
Max was right—all would be well on the morrow.
Chapter Twenty
White’s was teeming with activity, but Henry turned a deaf ear to it. He expected it had everything to do with that damned wager book, which had become the bane of his existence.
Now that he had admitted his feelings to himself where a certain princess was concerned, the copious lists of bets chafed more. The only way he could stop it would be to make an offer of marriage himself, and that he would not do without first speaking with Irina’s guardians or his mother. He’d almost ridden straight to Essex after their brief interlude at the Botanical Gardens, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’d had business to tend to with his solicitor regarding Rose, he would have.
Sipping his whiskey, he exhaled sharply at the memory of Irina and the bemused look of astonishment on her face when he’d hiked her skirts and settled himself between her thighs. Christ, he’d have given anything to lay her down on the grass and finish what he’d started. The taste of her had been scintillating, the sight of her lissome, slim legs even more so. He wanted to behold her in all her natural beauty without a stitch of clothing on…feast his eyes on her with no fear of interruption. Henry could have cheerfully murdered Lady Lyon right then, although her unknowing intrusion had likely been a blessing in disguise. If he and Irina had been discovered in such a scandalous position with his head buried between her thighs in a public garden, the gossip would have been unstoppable.
But good God, the risk had been worth it.
Henry shuffled his cards in restless agitation, his body twitching with immediate lust at the erotic recollection. If the mere thought of her brought him to such a state of readiness and a dream could make him expend himself, he couldn’t begin to imagine what the actual act would bring. Henry smiled to himself as he enumerated all the ways in which he would give her pleasure. Irina would be an eager student. Though she’d been stunned at the intimacy at the waterfall and at Yardley, Henry knew that she would revel in learning everything he had to teach her about her body. And his. Irina took pleasure as he did, without shame or artifice—she luxuriated in it with abandon and enthusiasm.
Henry was looking forward to the task already.
“Smiling because you’re fleecing them all, Langlevit?” the Duke of Bradburne asked as he sat across from him in one of the empty chairs with a knowing grin. “Or because you have other more pleasing affairs on your mind?”
“A bit of both,” Henry replied lazily, glad for the table’s low overhang as he placed his latest bet, carefully watching the faces of his two opponents—two young peacocks he barely knew. He’d chosen the outlying table for that very reason. Henry did not want to converse with anyone, he simply wanted for a quiet diversion.
Playing cards was only a means of passing the time until another of his horses was re-shod for the journey to Essex. His favorite and fastest horse had turned up a stone in his hoof, and Henry did not want to put him through the grueling pace of a trip to the country. And when he’d finished his business with his solicitor, he’d decided to take luncheon at the club and enjoy a few quiet hands ofvingt-et-un.
He did not mind the duke joining him now, however. Too much of his own thoughts left him in an engorged state unfit for polite society. “How long are you back in town, Hawk?”
“For the week,” he said.
“And Her Grace, is she with you?”
“No,” Hawk said. “She is still in Essex with the children. Lady Northridge has been committed to bed rest for the remainder of her confinement, and my wife has taken it upon herself to see to her comfort.”
Henry frowned. He’d received no such information as to Lana’s worsening condition, and Irina would have said something or insisted on returning if she’d known.
“It is only a precaution,” Hawk added, as if he could read the worry on his face. “Lady Northridge did not want to needlessly worry her sister.”
After a few minutes of intense play, Henry decided to fold, awarding the winning hand to the duke, who grinned with satisfaction. The two other young gentlemen who had been sitting at the table groaned their disappointment and rose, deciding to try their luck elsewhere. Henry nodded to the dealer to continue, despite it being only Hawk and him remaining.
He glanced up at the duke who seemed intently focused on the new hand he’d been dealt. “Hawk, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
Henry cleared his throat, lowering his voice. He knew the dealer would be discreet, but he could not account for other more curious ears around them. “How did you know…that Lady Bradburne was the one? That it was a love match.”
Hawk’s stare met his, a slight crease puckering his brow. “That’s a rather loaded question.”
“Yes, I know.” Henry shrugged in apology. “It is fine if you do not wish to answer.”
“No, you just took me by surprise,” Hawk said, taking a draught from the glass of whiskey at his side. “I suppose I always knew somewhere deep down that she was the one for me. She made me want to change, and no woman had ever done that before. I was quite set in my ways, as you know.” A fond smile settled on his face. “Briannon was…is…a force of nature. She saved me from myself.”
“So it was always love?”
“Not at the start,” Hawk said grinning. “She nearly drove me to madness first. Still does, but I would not have it any other way. Briannon is strong of heart and mind, and she challenges me every single day to be a better man.”
Henry smiled into his own drink. “So, what you’re saying is that finding the right one makes you feel like ripping your hair out at the rootsandinspires a deep desire to improve yourself?”
“Exactly.” Hawk arched an eyebrow at his dry tone. “Although I don’t recall Lady Carmichael being of a particularly vexing temperament. She seems rather even-keeled.”
