A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset

by Samantha Holt

  Trying and failing to suppress a yawn, Orelia stretched. “Thank goodness.”

  “Come, let us get you to bed.”

  She was too tired to protest when he helped her to her feet. She had not realized just how exhausted she was until the moment she had to balance her weary body on two feet. Nearly collapsing onto the bed, she only stopped herself by snatching Reed’s arm.

  “You’re worn out.”

  She nodded and yawned again. He turned her slowly and before she had quite realized his intentions, he began unlacing her gown. He moved swiftly, no doubt an expert in all things feminine, and had her down to her shift in a trice. She should feel exposed, but she already spent so much time in close quarters with him, it hardly seemed to matter.

  The air seemed to still around her. All she was aware of was the sound of their breaths, heavy with anticipation. If it weren’t for how tired she was, she would have likely turned and flung her arms around his neck and begged to be kissed. Oh, how she longed for another kiss.

  But her feet would not move. Her arms would not lift. She could not summon the words to plead.

  He came closer. She felt the heat of his body nearby. Reed put a hand to her shoulder and kneaded her flesh with his thumb. She groaned.

  A sharp inhale came from him and she startled when he pressed a brief kiss to the crook of her shoulder. Before she had the chance to respond, he urged her toward the bed, drawing back the sheets and helping her in. She peered up at him through half-closed lids.

  “Will you be coming to bed?”

  He gave her what appeared to be a soft smile but that could have been because she was hardly able to keep her eyes open.

  “I will in a moment. Sleep well, Orelia.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. Shortly before the darkness overtook her, she could have sworn she felt his lips brush hers in the sweetest, most tender kiss. Perhaps it was a dream, but if it was, it was wonderful. How nice it would be to live in a world where dukes kissed gypsy girls.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was far too easy to watch Orelia sleep. Reed especially liked seeing how her lips parted as she inhaled. If he was in the mood for the scandalous, he could not complain too much about how her chest rose with each breath either, or how she had kicked off the sheets overnight and her long, dusky legs were sprawled just so, giving him quite the image to lust over.

  He shook his head and turned his attention back to the paper. He’d already been out in the early hours, digging up what he could on the three suspects. All lived locally, within a four-mile radius of the wine merchant’s it seemed. From what the young lad had said, the first address was where the rich merchants and doctors tended to live. The other belonged to an earl and the last was a poorer area. He’d try the last address first—it would be easier to investigate.

  She rolled, and he tucked himself behind the paper. He could hardly be counted as the most honorable of men, but he hardly wanted to be caught admiring her bare legs.

  Especially when he should be concentrating on more important things than long, long, lush legs that would be perfect wrapped…

  As he shifted his position, his foot tapped the table leg. Orelia bolted upright, springing out of the bed and looking wildly around. Her fists were raised. He might have laughed had she not looked so terrified.

  Reed stood too, lifting his hands in a placatory manner. “It is only me, Orelia.”

  She peered at him through sleepy eyes. Her breaths ragged, she slowly lowered her fists. “Forgive me…”

  He couldn’t help himself. He took her in his arms, completely enfolding her in them. Her body trembled a little. Why she had been so startled he did know not, but he did know he wanted to comfort her…Hell, even protect her.

  Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he held her while her breaths slowed, absorbing the feel of her soft body tucked so perfectly against him. She smelled faintly of herbs and a sort of warm, sleepy scent. She burrowed her head against his chest and something inside him cracked a little.

  He nuzzled her cheek and she tilted her head.

  With a groan, he pressed his lips to her neck. She sucked in a breath. He kissed a trail along her skin.

  “So soft,” he murmured against her skin. “Why do you taste so good?”

  “I…I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling.

  She didn’t know. That was the problem. She had no idea the effect she had on him. It was growing worse and he was getting distracted. If they were not meant to be working together, he would likely have taken her to bed by now, but there were more important things than his needs right now.

  He eased away but kept her held by her arms. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She gave a sheepish smile. “I must look a fool.”

  “Not at all.”

  “It was never easy sleeping in the wagon. My mother’s lover would stumble in drunk sometimes and a few other men…” Color seeped into her cheeks.

  Reed clenched his jaw. “Did they harm you?”

  She shook her head. “None were that foolish.”

  “I hate that anyone scared you. You should never have been in that position.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Reed.”

  “It does to me,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Well, you would be the first man to be concerned for me.”

  And why did that hurt him? She should have had a father to protect her from her terrible mother or from nearly being sold to a blackguard of a man.

  She pushed her hair back from her face and eyed his dress appearance. “Is it very late?”

  “Not too late but I thought you had earned your rest.” He stepped back and forced a smile. “I shall rustle up some food for us while you dress.”

  Reed didn’t wait for a response. He left before she could say anything and headed down to the bar. The maid gathered a platter of bread and honey and some coffee quickly, but he lingered downstairs for as long as he could. He needed the distance from her. She muddled his thoughts far too much.

  By the time he’d finished lecturing himself, she had come to join him, and they ate and drank in relative silence. Just a few patrons gathered in the inn at this hour, some already drinking ale and likely planning to spend the rest of the day doing much the same.

  “What shall we be doing today?” Orelia asked, her voice low.

  “I’d like to check out one of the addresses we have.”

  “But how will we know if he is guilty?”

  “Ah, well that is the nature of investigation. It usually means kicking over enough baskets until something pops out.”

  “So we’re to rile all the suspects until one confesses?”

  “I hope not but that is the essence of it. Unfortunately, it is never as easy as simply finding the evidence one needs.”

  Orelia peered at him. “I suppose you spent much time investigating things in France.”

  “A lot of what I did was tracking where the army was, what their next moves were and what their armaments and supplies were like. But I also uncovered several French spies.”

  “Did any uncover you?”

  He grinned. “Never.”

  She laughed. “You are so very smug are you not?”

  “Always.”

  Shaking her head, she finished her coffee and they made their way across town to the first address. Reed grimaced as he eyed the empty building.

  Orelia peered through the window. “If they did live here, they do not anymore.”

  Glancing around at the filthy street, Reed tugged her close. A few beggars sat in the doorways. “Let us try the next address. We won’t get any answers standing around here.”

  They headed to the next address on foot. It took them nearly an hour to make their way to the finer part of Portsmouth. Here the houses were adjoined but not cramped together like at the previous address. Each cream home stretched three stories tall with columns in front of the doors. Servants quarters were accessed via a stairwell down.
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  Reed paused to eye the building, aware he was hardly dressed for entry to a house like this. A far cry from his own home it might be, but he currently reflected a humble—if respectable—income. Unfortunately, Orelia did nothing to change that assumption.

  He eyed her basic gown. Was it time to find her something new to wear? Whilst it had been useful for them to stay ignored, he could not help miss seeing her in finer materials.

  “What shall we do?” Orelia whispered as though the few passers-by were listening in to their conversations.

  To be certain, they could not stand around on the doorstep for long, but they had to find out something about the owner or else their day would be wasted.

  He grinned when he spotted a young maid, basket slung over one arm, open the gate to the servants’ stairs. He nodded toward the park opposite the buildings. “Wait over there, I shan’t be long.”

  “Reed?”

  “Orelia,” he warned. Damned woman needed to learn to trust him.

  She nodded and shuffled off. He donned his winning smile, flicked off his eyepatch and strode over to the maid. She paused on the stairs as he leaned over the rails.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  “I certainly hope so. But perhaps I can help you with that basket first, miss.”

  She smiled, her plump cheeks revealing two rather charming dimples. “I can manage perfectly well on my own,” she said, with an amused tone to her voice.

  “No doubt you can, though I hate to see a lovely young lady like yourself carrying such a burden.”

  She glanced at the basket, laden with a handful of vegetables. The maid chuckled. “Aye, sir, it is a heavy burden to bear, but bear it I must.”

  He gave a long sigh. “It looks as though you could do with some help. Does your master work you hard?”

  “No, sir. He is a good master. I am a lucky girl to be working for Mr. Daventry.”

  “Ah, that is good to hear. My sister was in service and was not treated nearly so well. The wages are good?”

  She sucked in a mock gasp. “You are bold, sir.”

  “I ask only because my sister is here looking for work. She has come to stay with me and hopes to settle in Dover.”

  Understanding came over her expression. “So you are hoping perhaps that I might be giving up my excellent position here?”

  “Not at all. I can see that you are an excellent maid. But I was hoping you might know if your wonderful Mr. Daventry might be looking for some extra help. After all, as excellent a maid as you are, no doubt, one can never have enough help.”

  The girl chuckled. “I think your sister has a fine champion in you, she’s a lucky girl.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “She is a good woman. I always look after my womenfolk to the best of my ability. That is why I hope to find her a position with a good house. Unfortunately, not all servants are treated as well as you, miss.”

  “My name is Amy,” she said boldly. “And you are in luck, sir. The lady’s maid is due to be married soon. The lady is none too happy to lose her. If you bring your sister here tomorrow, I shall see if the lady of the house would like to see her. Does she have such experience?”

  “She does indeed. I think your lady would be a fool not to offer her a job.”

  “Spoken like a truly loving brother.”

  He grinned. “Thank you for your help, Amy. Robert Sherbourne at your service.” He tipped his hat. “My sister, Anita, shall be along tomorrow. At what time can we catch you at your leisure?”

  “Bring her at eleven. My lady shall be risen by then but not receiving visitors yet.”

  “Amy, you are a truly wonderful creature. My thanks to you.”

  Amy smiled again and shook her head. “Do not thank me yet. My mistress may not even accept her visit.”

  “I thank you anyway for your aid. I hope you have a wonderful day, lovely Amy.” He gave her a wink and color rose into her cheeks. She shook her head again and headed down the steps.

  Reed strolled away to find Orelia waiting under a generous oak tree, her arms folded across her chest. “Was it necessary to flirt so obviously?”

  “How did you know I was flirting?”

  “Anyone could see you were.”

  His lips twisted into a grin. “Jealous, Orelia?”

  “Hardly.”

  She was, and he liked it. He couldn’t help himself. “Do not forget that only yesterday you were charming a wine merchant.”

  “I had no choice!”

  “Neither did I.” He took her arm. “But it was worth it.”

  “What have you learned?”

  “Not much, save that Mr. Daventry is a kind and respectable man.”

  “So he is not our poisoner?”

  “I did not say that.”

  Her brow furrowed. “So why do you look so happy?”

  “Because, my dear Orelia, we have access to the house. Well, to be more accurate, you have access to the house, for on the morrow, you shall be going for an interview to be a lady’s maid.”

  Orelia gaped at him. “A lady’s maid? Me?” She shook her head vigorously. “Oh no. I cannot—”

  “You will only have to act a lady’s maid, nothing more. Do not forget I have seen you play many roles quite successfully recently. Wine expert, pregnant woman in distress, fortune teller…”

  She narrowed her gaze at him.

  “This will be easy for you, I know it.”

  Huffing, she shook her head. “We are not all trained spies you know.”

  “Orelia, you could rival the best. I have every confidence in you.”

  A light blush colored her cheeks and he grinned.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Orelia drew in a breath and pressed her hands to her stomach. The butterflies inside it would not quell. She paused midway across the park to eye the house they had visited yesterday.

  Where Reed had flirted with the maid.

  She did not think herself the jealous type nor was she one to lie to herself. She had been jealous of him flirting with that girl. It did not matter to her silly heart that he was doing it merely to find out more information or that she had no claims over him. Jealousy had beat with raw intensity through her.

  And now she had to be nice to the poor, unsuspecting maid who had likely simply enjoyed talking with a handsome and charming man and thought nothing more of it.

  “She will know I’m not your sister,” she reminded Reed.

  “Yes, so you discuss how you are my half-sister.” He paused, took her shoulders in his hands and eyed her. “Orelia, you can do this. You have been surviving by your wits your whole life. Find out what you can about the household and if anything seems amiss, I shall conduct further investigations.”

  “You mean you shall sneak in again, do you not?”

  “If I must.”

  She sighed. Slipping into the merchants had been heart-stopping enough. Now he wished to snoop in a rich man’s house? He would surely get into trouble.

  “I know what I’m doing.” He gave her a soft smile with no censure in his eyes.

  Any other man would be annoyed at her doubting his ability and it was not even that she did really, but she certainly feared for him, no matter how pointless that fear was.

  “I know you do.” Drawing in another deep breath, she flattened a hand to her hammering heart in a bid to slow it down. “I, on the other hand, have little idea what I am doing.”

  “You do indeed. You are Anita Sherbourne. Your mother is Spanish, and she married my father two years before you were born. Your last position was working for the Duchess of Keswick.”

  “Let us hope they do not question your mother,” she grumbled.

  “It doesn’t matter if they do. We shall be long gone before then. In the meantime, you have a reference from her son.” He handed over the letter. “I’m sure my words will go far enough to grant you an audience with the mistress.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I always am,” he said with a
smug smile that she wanted to tear from his face.

  It also made him impossibly irresistible and part of her longed to fling herself in his arms and receive his kisses. Surely that would be far more pleasant than interviewing for a position she had no intention of taking nor any experience of?

  “Now hurry along or you shall be late.”

  Straightening her shoulders, Orelia grasped the letter of recommendation and strode over to the house. She took the steps down and knocked on the door. The door opened, and the young woman Reed had been speaking with the previous day greeted her.

  “Is your brother not with you?” The woman glanced her over and Orelia could almost hear her wondering about her skin color and the difference between them.

  “My half-brother,” she replied with a smile. “My mother married his father not long after she came here from Spain.”

  The woman’s expression eased, even though Orelia was aware she had just laden her with unnecessary information. If it seemed at all odd, Amy said nothing.

  “Do come in. Mrs. Green, the housekeeper, will want to speak with you first. Thankfully she was not at all angry at my impertinence. My mistress has been fretting about a replacement for some weeks.”

  Amy led her into the kitchen area and bid her to sit down at the large table in the center. The scent of freshly baked bread filled the room, emanating from the gleaming black stove. The only other kitchen Orelia had ever been in was at Keswick and though this one was much smaller, it still revealed the luxury the occupants of the house lived in with fresh herbs growing in pots, the meal menus spread about, and silverware stowed carefully in a huge cabinet.

  “Don’t be nervous,” said Amy. “Mrs. Green is lovely once you get to know her.”

  Orelia offered a shaky smile. “Does it show?”

  “Your brother would not have recommended you had you not had the right experience, I am sure. He seems like he would only want the best for you.”

  Orelia nodded. “He is a very good man.”

  “Then you have nothing to fear.” Amy smiled warmly.

  “Have you worked here long?”

  “Three years.”

  “R-Robert said they are kind here.”