The Madness of Viscount Atherbourne (Rescued from Ruin, Book One) by Elisa Braden Page B

Gattingford’s terrace that
night, her breasts covered by nothing more than moonlight and his
mouth. He recalled her taste (milky and sweet), her smell (lightly
floral; hyacinth, he thought), and the breathless moan she’d
uttered when she reached her peak. He gripped the window sill, let
his forehead rest against the cold glass, and gritted his teeth
against a wave of longing.
    His desire for her was entirely out of
proportion. Despite his flowery words to her that night, she was no
grand beauty. Oh, she was pretty enough in a way many young women
were: golden hair, big blue-green eyes, a soft mouth, and creamy
skin. Her features were even and balanced, her demeanor calm and
serene. In truth, one could find nothing to fault in her
appearance, but neither would many consider her a diamond of the
first water.
    Then what is it you find so enthralling?
This girl who fades into the background has you twisted up with
lust.
    He had wondered more than once since first
seeing Victoria at the Gattingford ball if his passion for revenge
had somehow transmuted into this rather unseemly preoccupation with
her. Perhaps, he thought, his hatred had begun to infect his
dalliances with women. Even if that were so, however, it did not
alter his plans for her.
    After months of research into Blackmore’s
life—everything from his finances to his politics to his bloody
valet—Lucien and James had found nothing more damaging than
disgruntled former servants complaining about the duke’s terribly
exacting standards of cleanliness and thrift. Fortunately, they
also discovered how deep and abiding was his connection with his
sister. And so Lucien had continued investigating, but his target
had become Lady Victoria Lacey. With the aid of the duke’s
ex-servants, Lucien was able to glean a great deal about Victoria’s
character. She was known as the Flower of Blackmore, her pristine
reputation fiercely guarded by both Blackmore and her sponsor, Lady
Berne. But, he soon learned, beneath the mannerly mask, she was a
hopeless romantic. As one maid had put it, “At heart, her ladyship
is as sweet and fanciful as a pot of honey.”
    It had presented the ideal opportunity: All
he had to do was sweep her off her feet and directly into the path
of scandal. From there, he reasoned, events should fall into place
of their own accord—the engagement Blackmore had manufactured would
be finished, the duke would be humiliated, his beloved sibling so
tainted that he would have to distance himself from her
permanently. Everything had gone precisely as Lucien had
envisioned—better, even.
    Except for one small problem: It had not been
satisfying. Not even a little. He still did not entirely understand
why. The idea of making her separation from her brother permanent
by marrying her himself had only occurred to him a day later.
Instantly, he had known it was the answer.
    Now, the marriage was poised to happen, and
all he could think about was her. It made no sense at all. This was
not about gaining a wife, it was about punishing Blackmore. But,
then, he had not anticipated Victoria.
    Recalling how she had rather boldly taken the
reins of his conversation with Blackmore and proceeded to interview
him for the position of husband, he shook his head and felt himself
smiling. It had been shocking enough to hear her consent to marry
him, but after shooing him out the door, she had somehow managed to
persuade Blackmore to allow it. That had been astounding.
    Hell, Lucien had been prepared to seduce her
into eloping to Gretna Green. But it had not been necessary.
Blackmore had paid him a visit yesterday to repeatedly threaten his
life if “so much as the hem of her dress is harmed in any way.”
They had negotiated the terms of the marriage settlement for less
than a quarter of an hour, with Lucien conceding nearly every
point. The marriage itself gave him full control of her, which was
all that mattered. What she would be paid in allowance or how his
family’s