The solution presented itself clearly. He would marry his Rose and damn the scandal.

  If she would have him.

  “Jane?” a very confused sounding David asked from close by.

  Ian broke the kiss, but Rose---no, Jane—frowned and pulled him back in for another. He couldn’t deny her anything and he gladly met her mouth again, pouring his heart into how his lips and tongue moved against hers.

  The kiss broke again, but Ian, panting, only leaned his forehead against hers.

  “Do I need to punch him?” David asked.

  She waved his back, looking like she might need more kissing.

  A lifetime of kissing.

  “Marry me, Miss Jane Stanton,” he asked, never having been more certain about something in his life.

  “Yes,” she said, the word soft and wonderous. “I really don’t think I’ll be able to let you out of sight again because when I do, you’re very naughty.” Her hand slid down his back before tapping lightly on his bum.

  Ian meant to kiss her again but was stopped by an outburst from David.

  “What the bleeding hell is going on?”

  Impatient at the interruption, he turned towards the man. “I’m going to marry Miss Stanton. Do be so kind as to go get my mother and bring her to—” He looked down at Jane.

  “To Mr. Carpenter’s office,” Jane supplied.

  “I’ll need my staff that’s here as well.”

  “Especially Phoebe.”

  David made a face, but he must know Jane well enough because he left without argument.

  “I want to make you my wife as soon as possible.” He nibbled at her jaw. “I can get a common license and—”

  “Nonsense, we’ll do it immediately. I’m truly not letting go of you.” She tugged on his sleeve, leading him away from the stage, which was being changed to a pastoral set for the final act. Wooden sheep were being hurriedly placed around them.

  “M’lady,” he murmured. “I’m an Earl, but I’m so blasted new that I don’t know the Archbishop. He’ll never grant some upstart Scotsman a special license this time of night.”

  She led him down a corridor that smelled of sweat and wood polish. “You let me take care of that, he owes me a favor.”

  Ian jerked her to a halt. “Do I want to know why the Archbishop of Canterbury owes you a favor?”

  Her smile was serene. “Someone, not The Right Honorable Manners-Sutton himself, but a person rather high up in the church liked to pretend he was my puppy, I’d throw sticks for him and scratch behind his ears. I don’t give away my client’s secrets, but I did secure a promise of a future favor. I can’t think of a better thing to use it on than obtaining a special license.”

  He had to pull her to him, kissing her again. She was a wonder.

  This time she broke the kiss. “I am so very sorry about the scandal this will cause.”

  Ian followed her into a plain office. It was tidy, with a worn desk and a neatly made cot in one corner. “I’m not as worried as I should be, though I apologize for how you might be treated by my peers. But a Scottish lord they already don’t think much of impulsively marrying an actress won’t be much of a surprise, I’m sure.” He cupped her cheek. “I like seeing you with no mask on, though it was very fetching.”

  “I’m spanking you soundly later,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’ve been in tears most of the day and it helped a little to hear that you’d been out of sorts too, but I shan’t entirely forgive you until your arse is smarting.”

  He kissed the end of her nose. “I’m so sorry, my mum—”

  “Is right here.” His mother swept into the room, with Jack and the new maid following behind. David and Mr. Carpenter were in the hallway, concern on their faces.

  He squared his shoulders. “Mother, you know I dearly love you, but I am disobeying you to do what I should have done in the first place. I dishonored Miss Stanton by even thinking to make her my mistress. We are to be married immediately.” He waited for her bluster.

  Instead, his mother’s face crumpled, and tears flowed as she bypassed him and gathered Jane into a hug. That set Jane off and she started crying as well. He patted his pockets, looking for his handkerchief, but Mr. Carpenter beat him to it, pushing squares of fabric onto Jane and his mother’s hands.

  “I’m so sorry,” his mother finally said, drawing back but keeping Jane’s hands in hers. “I was the one who made him put you aside and I knew I’d done the wrong thing over breakfast when my sweet son turned into a snarling mess. He has a good heart.” She glared at Ian. “Were you worried I wouldn’t approve because she’s an actress?”

  He nodded, even though it wasn’t quite the truth.

  Jane sniffed. “I’m sorry this is all happening,” she said to Mr. Carpenter. “Lord Fitzwilliam, you mustn’t let this situation color how you see The Cupid’s Bow.”

  “I’ve already told Mr. Carpenter I’ll be the company’s patron, and that hasn’t changed,” he assured her.

  Her wide smile was a thing of beauty. “Thank you.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Mr. Carpenter, on the occasion of my marriage, I need to inform you that I am retiring from the stage. My understudy can take over for the few remaining performances.”

  “Of course, m’dear,” Mr. Carpenter said with a shrug. “We’ve all known you were leaving after this production wrapped up. This is as good a time as any, but as the wife of our patron I’m sure we’ll still see you a great deal and you must help with casting and choosing our plays for the season.”

  Jane burst into tears again and hugged him.

  The maid with Ian pushed through the throng and took Jane’s hands. Jane leaned close and whispered in her ear. After a swift, but painful, punch to Ian’s shoulder –that thankfully only Jack seemed to see--the maid hurried from the room. Ian rolled his eyes at the dopey smile Jack gave her back.

  “Phoebe’s gone to get the license,” Jane said.

  “Phoebe?”

  “Your new maid. She’s shared my flat with me for years now.”

  Ian scratched at the back of his head. “For being so large, London can seem a small city.”

  There were a few laughs, which were followed by a whirlwind of activity. A suitable dress and veil were found for Jane—bless the well-stocked costume room—and his mother fussed over him, righting his hair and making sure his clothing was free of wrinkles.

  It seemed far too long but also only seconds later that he stood on the stage. The play had ended a while ago and the curtain lowered, but there he was, saying his vows to the most wonderful woman to ever exist, while surrounded by an acting company and scads of wooden sheep.

  David had given Ian a prop ring to put on his new bride’s finger, but he’d get her a proper one as soon as he could.

  The sleepy parson pronounced them man and wife, to a cheer from those gathered around them.

  His new wife kissed him sweetly, then pushed up on her toes to speak in his ear. “Now for our wedding night.”

  Chapter 12

  Jane stroked her husband’s curls as the carriage clattered and rocked its way over cobblestone streets, taking them to a place she’d been many times before, but him only a few. Ian's eyes had gone wide when she’d explained to him that The Hidden Treasure also catered to married couples and they could keep her room there as a place for them to go and play.

  He’d helped her send everyone on their way after the wedding, saying something about taking Jane to a posh hotel for the night. After she’d been hugged and congratulated by Ian’s mum, Phoebe, David, Mr. Carpenter, Daisy, and what felt like the rest of the company, Ian had whisked her out to the carriage. It was fancier than anything she’d ever ridden in, with its fine appointments and soft seats.

  Seats she wasn’t sitting in because her husband had immediately pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled his face against her neck.

  “I love you,” he kept murmuring over and over, each three-word sentence punctuated at the end by a soft kiss.

  Jane hardly knew how she’d gotten here. “This morning,” she said, running her fingers through Ian’s thick curls. “I was ecstatic to think I’d be your mistress, then my heart broke when your letter arrived.” Jane kissed his temple as he shuddered. “I thought tonight would be the last I’d see of you, but I expected you to remain perched up in your box. My performance was my goodbye.”

  “A magnificent performance. You shone.”

  “I guess it did become my goodbye performance, but only to being on the stage.”

  Ian nibbled at her neck. “You are welcome to perform if you wish, I’d never stop you.”

  “It was time for me to step away, I didn’t plan to be in the next production.” She kissed his forehead again. “And now I’m a wife. And a Countess, I suppose, though heaven knows I’m not prepared for that role.”

  “You’ll do magnificently.” He tilted his head to look up at her. “Don’t suppose we can work on your other role as well?”

  “Other role?”

  “As a mum?” His smile was bashful. It was precious.

  “Ah, are you asking me if you can spend inside me when you fuck me?”

  Her husband’s flush was visible even in the low light of the streetlamps. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “The answer is yes.” She held up a hand to keep him silent. “But only after I’m sufficiently satisfied with your punishment for making me cry.”

  “So sometime in the next million years?”

  Jane laughed right as the carriage drew to a halt. “Later tonight, husband.”

  “If you say so, wife.”

  The door was opened for them, and Ian descended first, then turned and picked her up, holding her close as he set her carefully on her feet. Her boot heel, which had been repaired more times than she would admit to, wobbled. For a heartbeat, she was paralyzed with the thought that she’d need to get it fixed again, but then remembered she needn’t worry about that for the foreseeable future.

  “Everything alright?” Ian asked.

  She chuckled. “Yes, I just realized that my boot needs to be repaired again.”

  “Right now?” he asked, sounding very alarmed.

  “No, silly. And I can probably buy new ones if that’s alright.”

  He blinked at her. “Why wouldn’t it be alright?”

  “I need my husband’s permission for funds.”

  Understanding dawned. “And I’m your husband.” He sounded giddy as a schoolgirl. “I’ll figure out a way for you to have all the funds you need. Buy out the dress and shoe stores if you wish.”

  She laughed. “I think I’ll have to work up to that. A single new pair of decent boots with good heels will do me to start. Now come along, the madam is hovering at the door and probably wondering why you’re daring to show your face here again.”

  Ian, smile wide, took her arm and escorted her to the entrance. Jane had never walked through the front door of the Treasure and was a bit awed as a footman swung it open to admit Ian and her.

  The madam stood in the hallway wearing a frown.

  “What can I do for you Lord …” She gasped. “Jane? Sweets, what are you doing?”

  Jane held up her hand with the ring on her finger. “He married me, special license, an hour ago.”

  “My wife,” Ian coughed, his voice having gone hoarse. “Assures me married couples are welcome here, and that we can keep her room?”

  The madam beamed. “Of course, of course. Congratulations to you both. We can do the paperwork later, go have fun.”

  Jane tugged him along, but as he passed the madam, she leaned in. “If you ever make her cry again your last resting place will be the bottom of the Thames.” He nodded, looking appropriately cowed.

  “You need not worry,” he said to the madam, but Jane didn’t let him think about it too long as she steered him upstairs.

  Once in her room and with the door locked, he pulled his wife into an embrace. “I am so sorry for my words and actions, but I can’t … oh, darling, I can’t promise I’ll never be an arse again, but know that in the future it will never be meant.”

  “Well, my present, I say the same because I know the future will do what it wants, but for right now I’m going to be a bit mad. I don’t think I’ve ever sniveled so much in my life, and I didn’t like it. But I do like hearing your apologies. They’d be even better if you were naked and on your knees.”

  Ian didn’t need to be told twice. She put a hand on her hip while he stripped down as fast as possible, his clothes ending up a heap on the floor. Jane removed her dress and petticoat to add to the pile but left her chemise, stays, and stockings. Her shoes she kicked away.

  Her husband knelt gracefully, his eager cock already starting to stand up.

  “Present,” she said, trying to keep the glee out of her voice without much success. “I want to know how sorry you are, while you undo the ribbon of my stockings and roll them down.”

  “Yes, M’lady.”

  He was such a good lad.

  Ian shuffled over to her on his knees and while his gaze momentarily fixed on how the dark curls covering her mound showed through her thin chemise, it was only seconds before he managed to carefully raise the hem and set to work untying the ribbon just below her knee. He inhaled sharply, hopefully, because the scent of her arousal was teasing him.

  “Can you smell how much I want you?” she asked, petting his head.

  Ian breathed in deeply. “Yes, M’lady.” His words were rough and his cock was jutting out now, hard and ready for her. Gently, he rolled her stocking down. “I know I don’t deserve even that much. I am so sorry that any words swayed me. I should have known my heart couldn’t beat without you.”

  Jane lifted her foot, and he removed the stocking. His fingers trembled against her knee as he started on the other one.

  “Then why did you try to put me aside?” She said the words carefully, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

  Ian kissed her thigh through her chemise. “Please forgive me, m’lady. I’m so bloody sorry. I thought I had to, I was told I had to, as if a turn of fate scooping me up and giving me this title somehow made it so that I had to marry for duty. I was wrong.” He looked up at her as he undid the second ribbon. “I’m nothing but a lad from the streets, my father didn’t care enough for me to even meet me before he died. I’ll always be pretending, playing the role of Earl like you play your characters. In the end, I’m just Ian.”

  “A wife from an old family would have been a prop, something to make the show more real.”

  “I was a daft ninny, my wife. My heart only wanted one thing. I am so sorry I wrote any of those words in my anger at being denied the one thing in this city I truly wanted. You are my heart’s blood, not poison, the loveliest creature on earth, not unseemly.” His cheeks reddened as he rolled the stocking down.

  She carded her hands through his curls, loving how thick and soft they were between her fingers. “You do realize that taking the wife you want is much more the act of an entitled aristocrat than a working man?”

  He dropped the stocking to the side to join the other, a line forming between his brows. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  “It’s the truth, and while I do think we’ll rub along well together because neither of us was born expecting to be an earl or countess, in the end, we shall do splendidly as such.”

  Ian settled his warm palms on her hips and leaned in, which wouldn’t do. It had been a pretty apology, but she still needed to punish him. “M’lady—”

  “Stand,” she commanded, stepping back and striding to the wall. She checked over her shoulder. He stood, his gaze clearly focused on her backside.

  “Ian,” Jane said, smothering a laugh at his guilty expression as his gaze met hers. “It’s time for your punishment, so you’ll have to stop staring at my arse.”

  “Yes, M’lady.” He coughed, his eyes having already drifted back down, and instead focused somewhere above her head.

  She tugged at two hanging sashes, pulling them down to reveal the chains and manacles behind the fabric. “Over here, present. I hide these because they can be intimidating, but I think you can handle them.” Two lengths of blue crushed velvet from a small table to the side would provide padding. Ian stumbled to the wall, eagerly raising his arms up and out. “This is going to be rougher than anything we’ve done,” she murmured in his ear as she did up the first manacle, the click loud as it locked.

  “Please,” he said, breathless and trembling with what she supposed was anticipation.

  Jane bit his earlobe, making him moan. “If you say no or stop, I won’t unless you also say watercress. If you say that I’ll know it’s too much and we’ll go cuddle in the bed. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, M'lady.”

  “What do you say if you need me to stop?” She clicked the other manacle into place.

  “Watercress.”

  “Perfect, now spread your feet shoulder-width apart. You’re getting twenty lashes. Do you know why?” She walked to her collection of whips and selected a thin, braided whip with a finger-length lash on the end.

  The tilt of Ian’s head let her know he was thinking, but then his head dropped forward. “Yes, M’lady, that would be one for every hour from when you got the note until we said our vows.” There was a pause, then a choked. “I’m sorry.”

  Jane hefted the whip, walking around to where Ian could see it. “Twenty of the worst hours of my life. I’ve never cared about anyone enough to have my heart shattered like that before, and I truly believed I would never see you again after tonight. You wouldn’t have even known it was me.”

  “Please,” he whispered. “I need it.”

  She ran a finger down his spine, caressing his arse when she reached it. “You’re going to look lovely with stripes.” His rear felt lovely in her hand, warm and firm. “And this time, you count.”

  “Yes, M’lady.”

  The first smack made him yelp, but he also managed the number. “One.”

  The pink line across his perfect rear made her smile.

  “More, please,” he said, leaning forward and putting more weight on the chains.

 

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