Page 8 of Wicked with Him

When it became clear that George couldn’t pay Roman off, a pair of Roman’s friends were primed to place a wager in the White’s club betting book on the likelihood of George Sweet ever having the funds.

Reputations were a gentleman’s currency in certain parts of society. Once lost, they forever cast shade on a man’s character, and a woman’s particularly.

He winced. Amity’s would be damaged forever after tonight.

He should feel guilty but could not find it in his heart. First, it had been by her invitation that he’d ruined her, and by her insistence that he absolutely, under no circumstances, claim to have done the deed. If he were a heartless bastard, he might do the right thing of course and claim her and her hefty dowry. But Amity wanted none of him. He respected that. It was a relief, too. She only wanted out from under her brother’s thumb anyway she could think of.

Amity had promised she’d free herself without his blood being shed in a morning duel or having him dragged to the altar and forced to marry.

He admired the hell out of her for making that promise. There were few women who would have in her situation. He was rich enough to be welcomed into many families, should his ambition ever run to matrimony again. Probably not by the Sweets, with their noses in the air at his commoner origins…and George reputedly reading his old love notes to Melody for all to hear.

He ground his teeth and looked around, noticing some women whispering behind fans, swarming together like bees around the sweetest flower, only to then scurry to another group of buzzing women.

Had it started?

It went on like that for a while. The sound slowly rose to a crescendo before some grabbed him by the shoulders to whisper. “Did you hear? Sweet Paragon has been ruined!”

It had begun. Roman glanced back at the speaker, feigning utter surprise at hearing such shocking news. Lord Stratford Sweet, one of Amity’s male cousins, was grinning from ear to ear though.

Roman narrowed his eyes. “Should you be spreading gossip about your own cousin like that?”

“I didn’t do it,” Stratford exclaimed hastily. “George is livid. You should see the scene he’s making over in the library.”

“Also your cousin,” Roman drawled slowly, hiding how he really felt behind an expression of concern. But he turned his eyes toward the far door, hoping to catch a glimpse of his enemy brought low, and of Amity, too. “Why are you not there now?”

“Ravenswood sent me away. One of my aunts has fainted and I failed to catch her. Algernon is trying to take charge.”

Roman had not realized the Duke of Ravenswood and his oldest son and heir, Algernon Sweet, Earl of Fairbridge, was in attendance tonight. Roman may not have agreed to meet with Amity if he’d know of their presence. Ravenswood was a cold bastard, but Fairbridge, although quieter than Stratford, was someone a fellow should never think to cross either. He hoped Amity could hold her tongue in the face of that cousin’s likely displeasure. “What will be done about finding the fiend?”

Stratford shrugged. “No doubt Ravenswood will do his best to flush him out tonight so George can have the pleasure of shooting him at dawn tomorrow.”

Amity had predicted that possibility, too, and still Roman had gone to her. Helped her ruin herself and enjoyed every moment. He scanned the room discreetly, reminding himself where the closest exit was if a speedy departure became necessary. “Do they have any idea who it might have been?”

“No. Amity’s lips are sealed tighter than her legs once were,” Stratford muttered coarsely, then chuckled. “I always knew my cousin had a wild heart hidden under all of that prim muslin and lace she wears.”

Wild heart, indeed. Roman had never had to work harder to make a lady climax than with Amity in that cramped space. And it had been so worth the effort in the end. She’d come in never-ending waves, rendering him speechless with shock afterward. Hearing her gasp his name and cling to him had made his heart race fiercely.

Too many men rushed to achieve their own satisfaction and denied a woman hers. But the thing that had finally pushed Amity over the edge had been him. His cock buried deep inside her, and all while he held her close and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. It was a tenderness he rarely showed his more experienced lovers during their first time together.

Women normally only wanted him for a quick tumble anyway.

Amity had wanted that, too…now to his regret. But there’d be plenty of other women gracing his cock in the future, no doubt. And tonight, he had to behave as he always did. He had to be certain he was never a suspect and end up married or shot or cut to ribbons at dawn. There was still so much more he had to do to make George Sweet pay dearly for his actions. “Surely she wants marriage.”

“If she does, she isn’t saying so. George probably won’t trick anyone into taking her on now, anyway. She’s revealed a stubborn streak most men would find unattractive. He’s made his displeasure with her behavior well known. Issuing all sort of threats in the hope of loosening her tongue. Fairbridge had to intervene.”

That had an ominous ring to it. He turned to Stratford immediately. “What do you mean by that?”

Stratford scowled darkly. “Caught George’s filthy paw before he could strike Amity’s upturned face. It was almost if she was daring him to beat her. This scandal will end talks of Amity marrying, and after that violent display, my dear cousin might find himself on the outs with society ladies for a while. He’s always hidden his brutish nature well…until tonight.”

Roman straightened, fury building inside him unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d known George Sweet was a bully for years, especially toward his fellow man, but not when it came to women. And women in his family could never escape such violence when it happened behind closed doors without help. “He tried to strike Amity?”

“The man is beyond the pale. No wonder she’s willing to risk being cast out, or perhaps that was what she hoped for.”

He craned his neck, hoping to catch sight of Amity. “What will be done with her?”

Stratford merely scratched his jaw. “Don’t rightly know. Fairbridge will know what to do, like he always does.”

“Get out! Get the hell out!” a man raged, suddenly yelling loud enough to be heard over the hubbub of gossips around Roman in the ballroom.