Galahad kissed me tonight on Brighton seafront, so thoroughly and so magnificently, I quite forgot how much I’ve always loathed him …
—from the diary of Miss Venus Merriwell, aged 22
“I know we urgently need to expand, and that your solution is simple and has merit, but the more I ponder it, the more I see the benefits of moving the orphanage away from all the temptations and cruel depravity of the city. Besides…” She winced. “In hindsight, the only reason I wanted that building so badly was because you chose it over me.”
“And the only reason I wanted it so badly was because I got my dream all wrong, so at least consider it as a short-term arrangement?” After the most spectacular few hours of his life, he and Venus were now snuggled up together beneath his fancy new sheets.
“But what about all your meticulous plans for all three buildings? Your stage and the giant, swooping staircase?” Gal had just reiterated his offer to sell her the building for the same bargain price that he had paid for it, had explained that he wasn’t the least bit bothered about doing it, and even confessed that thanks to all the unforeseen costs of renovating three buildings to his exacting specifications instead of two, the money would come in handy. Despite all that, for reasons best known to her stubborn and unfathomable self, she was now the one reluctant to be convinced this was the right thing to do. An irony that wasn’t lost on him when he considered how much consternation his owning the building had caused in the first place.
“How many times do I have to tell you that my grandpa taught me that the best-laid plans are always adaptable? So I’m adaptable and gladly so. Circumstances change, Venus, and in this case for the better.” He could tell she didn’t believe him, so he guessed he would have to spend a lifetime convincing her that she was, without a doubt, the best opportunity fate had ever gifted him. “Have it for a couple of years and then sell it back to me when you find a better place to put it.” As she rolled her eyes, he came up with another solution. “At least borrow some of my space for a little while.”
“Absolutely not. Never a lender or borrower be—wasn’t that what your grandpa also taught you?”
Lord, but she was maddening. “Rent it from me then. Mr. Evans hasn’t even started knocking down walls on the second and third floors, so it would be just as easy to add a little bit of my building into yours while you look for a pretty new home for your orphanage. Trust me—it takes time to find the right property, and then more time to make it fit for purpose.”
“We could borrow a room or two … as a temporary solution.”
“Hallelujah! We’ve finally found a compromise on something.” He snuggled closer. “And I like the idea of a little bit of me jutting into a little bit of you.”
She nudged him for that unsubtle innuendo, then frowned again. “But moving it out of the city also still concerns me.” She twisted within his arms to face him, her hair a riot of mussed curls thanks to the exuberance of their lovemaking. His Venus had been as passionate and wanton as her name suggested, and the reality of her in the throes of pleasure had far surpassed all his wildest fantasies.
Within minutes of her first orgasm, she had been ready and quite determined to have another, so Gal had been only too happy to let her take charge in order to achieve it, then had watched in uncharacteristically passive wonder as she had ridden him. Head thrown back in abandon, magnificent breasts jutting proudly, until she came noisily, dragging him right with her. Her enthusiasm had piqued his imagination and given him a few more fantasies about how he could have his wicked way with her. And next time he’d be the one in charge.
Already his body was twitching at the prospect, when by rights it should be exhausted.
“The orphanage relies on donations for survival.” She propped herself on one elbow. “Those donations could very well dry up if we move to where the wealthy cannot see us. Here we remind them that we exist. Our location shames them into supporting us.”
Gal put aside his lustful thoughts to ponder that. “It’s never wise to rely on charity. In business it’s always better to be self-sufficient and generate your own revenue.”
She gave him one of her schoolteacher’s looks. “In case it has escaped your notice, the Covent Garden Asylum for Orphans isn’t a business, Galahad.”
“It could be.”
“Are you proposing we hawk out the children for money? Sell them as indentured servants for profit? Or should we simply scrap all lessons and have them sew sacks or make matches instead?”
“I do so adore your British sarcasm.” He dropped a kiss on her outraged nose. “How many times do I need to tell you that you need to stop thinking so small, Venus. Sometimes you need to speculate to accumulate, to scan the horizon for possibilities and adapt to the circumstances.” He waved his hand in the air. “Somewhere out there is the perfect solution to your problem. All we need to do is find it.”
“Just what I need, another puzzle to solve.” She sat up, irritated, and to his delight clean forgot that she was naked.
“I’ll find the solution for you, Venus, I promise. I’ve a knack for making money and I like the challenge of thinking up new ways to make it.”
“You’d do that for me?” Her softened gaze did odd things to his heart—but he liked it. Didn’t feel threatened in the slightest that she now held that power.
“I’d do anything for you.” Because the sight of her bare breasts had tipped his body from just twitching to downright desperate, he jumped out of bed and held out his hand. “But while I ponder how to make your orphanage pay for itself, follow me.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.” He grabbed the single candle he had lit the second the sun had gone down and tugged her to follow.
“Don’t I need clothes?” She pointed to the tangled pile on the floor and quirked one eyebrow when he shook his head.
“I need you just as you are.” He led her out into the cavernous expanse of his unfinished apartment. “Because now that we’ve christened the bed, we need to christen my desk.”
“You want to…”
“Yes.”
“Again?”
“Yes.”
“On the desk?”
“Most definitely yes.” He turned her by the shoulders until she faced it, then set to work kissing her neck while caressing her delightfully oversensitive breasts. “Might I remind you that I could have died today…” But his earthy Venus didn’t need much coaxing to be ravaged. Within seconds, she was all for it, and within a minute she was bent over his desk thoroughly enjoying herself while he congratulated himself for being the luckiest man in the world. His future suddenly rosier than he could have ever planned it.
Things were just getting interesting when they heard the commotion from the street outside.
“Venus! Galahad!”
He stilled inside her as she stiffened.
“Vee! Is Galahad alive!”
“Oh my goodness! That sounds like Olivia!” In a blind panic, Venus edged him back as she scrambled upright, her hands clutching her bare breasts, her lovely eyes wide as she darted hither and thither, looking for somewhere to hide. “I forgot that I promised I’d be home by five!”
“Relax…” His passion deflating, he edged to the window. “The front door’s locked.”
That calmed her, and she joined him, then began to panic all over again as they watched the entire family tumble out of the carriage onto the curb. Jeremiah, Hugh, Minerva. Then Giles and Diana clutching little Gethin. All looking distraught but thankfully all heading up the steps to the orphanage.
Gal sighed in relief as they all disappeared inside it.
“Don’t panic. We’ve got a few minutes to make things look proper.” And heaven help him, Venus would need every one of them. Thanks to his rampant twitching, she looked like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet. Her hair was a wild bird’s nest, and the texture of the leather desktop was imprinted in her flushed cheek. “Let’s get you dressed.”
They dashed back to his bedchamber, but despite all his efforts to instill some calm, she was whirling around like a dervish with a maniacal expression on her face. “They cannot find me like this!” She wrestled with her dress tangled among all the extra blankets Mrs. Witherspoon had brought and that they’d kicked to the floor.
When she finally freed it, the sleeve had become hopelessly knotted in the laces of her stays, but the more she frantically tugged them, the tighter they went.
“Let me do that!” Gal grabbed it, but she slapped his hand away.
“Put your own clothes on!”
That was when the worst happened, and they heard the Reverend Smythe’s booming voice below. “The doctor has reassured us that Galahad will make a complete recovery.” Gal ran to the window, cracked it so that he could hear, and no sooner had he done so than there they all were again. “He’s displaying none of the signs of serious shock, and so long as he doesn’t develop a chill in the coming days, there is nothing to worry about.”
“Oh my goodness! They are about to knock on the door!” Venus burrowed into her tangled dress. “Don’t you dare open it till I’m decent!” Her matted head appeared through the neckhole and her eyes widened some more in horror. “And don’t you dare open it until you’re decent!” From somewhere beneath all the folds of fabric her schoolteacher’s finger emerged to wave at his nudity. “Put that away!”
“The key’s behind this brick here.” They both panicked at the sound of Tommy Claypole’s voice, because that was the precise moment when it became apparent that there would be no knock on the door. The amassed Sinclairs, Standishes, and Peabodys were already coming in and there was nothing either of them could do to stop them.
Figuring that it would be quicker to source a new shirt than the one discarded in the chaos, Gal rushed to his wardrobe and grabbed one as several pairs of hurried feet hit the first staircase.
Venus was mewling now, clearly in a state, and one glance told Gal the jig was up.
They were doomed.
Because her arm had worked its way into her twisted sleeve wrong and was trapped upright, yet still she was futilely trying to do up the laces like some sideshow contortionist.
“Make the bed!”
He threw up his palms at that stupid instruction, because frankly, with his wedding vegetables still in full view and her stays swinging from her elbow, a neat bed wasn’t going to convince her family that nothing untoward had gone on in it.
He did, however, yank the bottom sheet from the mattress to wrap around his exposed nethers a split second before everyone arrived in his attic. Then they all, to a man and woman and boy, stopped dead to gape.
Typically, it was Giles who spoke first, already enjoying himself immensely. “I’m glad to see that you are in fine fettle, cousin, and that you found your dip in the Serpentine so invigorating.”
“This isn’t what it looks like.” Her trapped arm still at a right angle to her neck and her stays swinging and calling her a liar, Venus tried to explain their state. “You see…” She looked to him, hoping he could think of something, and when he shrugged, useless, she tried some more. “Our clothes were drying and … um … when we heard you outside we … um…”
Gal exhaled loudly. “This is exactly what it looks like.” As eight pairs of stunned eyes suddenly swiveled to him—one additional pair gaped mortified at his perceived betrayal—he smiled. “But it’s all right—we’re getting married.”
“Are we?” Instead of agreeing, Venus gave him a stern look. “Only I do not remember saying yes to your proposal, Galahad Sinclair, or even there being a proposal at all for that matter.”
The eight pairs of eyes instantly swiveled back to him, expectant. “Well … I…”
“You goddamn well better propose, young man, or you’ll have me to answer to!” Jeremiah stepped forward aggrieved and all paternal.
“He will.” Olivia dragged him back. “And you will desist from using coarse language at such a pivotal moment in Galahad and Vee’s long and much-too-protracted romance.”
Gal supposed it was pivotal and had been a long time coming.
“Venus Merriwell…” He shuffled toward her in his blanket, then dropped to one knee before her. “… you have always been the fly in my ointment and the itch I couldn’t scratch…”
“Didn’t I tell you that they were destined for each other,” Olivia interrupted, nudging first Minerva and then Diana. “I have the eye.”
“Shut up, woman,” said Jeremiah in a stage whisper out of the corner of his mouth. “This is Vee’s moment, not yours!”
Venus sniggered and he did, too, because this was about as unconventional a proposal as their first meeting had been.
“… from the moment you first flattened me, you’ve bothered me…” He took her hand, and in the absence of a ring kissed her ring finger. “… but it turns out that I do love nothing in the world so well as you—isn’t that strange?”
“What a lovely thing to say.” Minerva sighed.
“It’s not his—he stole it from Shakespeare.” Giles had always loved the theater. “From Much Ado if I’m not mistaken.” That earned him a jab in the ribs from Diana.
“It’s her favorite,” sighed Olivia.
“Don’t mind us,” said Hugh by way of an apology as he scowled at his mother. “Please continue.”
“You’ll have to say it quick to get a word in edgewise in this family.” Venus stroked his cheek with her free hand, tears in her eyes.
But as he couldn’t ask her with her arm in the air, he stood and helped her fix the sleeve. He tossed the mangled stays to one side and righted her distracting spectacles. Then he tugged her into his arms. “So what say you to marrying me, Venus? Not because you have to—but because you want to.”
“I want to.” She kissed him. “I want you.” The next kiss was deeper. “I suspect I always have.”
“We are too late for a Christmas wedding, but with some finagling we could have them up the aisle by New Year’s. At St. George’s, seeing as we are all in town. Madame Devy can make the dress and…”
As everyone groaned at Olivia divvying up the errands she suddenly needed run to get them hitched fast, Gal kissed the woman of his dreams. As usual, she ended it before he was ready, and stared into his eyes.
Into his heart.
Into his soul.
“What profound and wise words would your grandpa have to say about all this, Galahad?”
“Oh, I know exactly what he’d say.” He tugged her back, laughing. “He’d tell me to go put some goddamn clothes on.”