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

by Samantha Holt

  Sweet Lord, it was the most amazing thing she’d ever experienced.

  Jasper remained quiet for much of the journey. She wondered if he was regretting their encounter.

  Perhaps.

  And if she had been in more of a melancholy mood, she might have thought it was because she compared so poorly to other women of her acquaintance but she didn’t believe so. He had to be a wonderful actor indeed to fake the way his eyes had lit up when he eased her breast out or to groan with such desire at the taste of her. What would be the point in acting? If he hadn’t wanted her, he could have easily assuaged her with a comforting embrace.

  By the time they reached the next station and changed trains, the rush had left her, and her headache from the wine returned. She grimaced when a group of particularly noisy people walked past their carriage. Thankfully they decided not to join them, leaving them alone for the rest of the journey.

  “You’re tired,” Jasper said.

  “Yes. I have a headache.”

  “Here, turn around.” He urged her to put her back to him.

  “Jasper, what—”

  His thumbs came to the back of her head, pressing to her hairline and then down to the top of her spine. He worked at the muscles there for some time and Hettie felt herself almost falling into each touch. Her body grew languid and the pounding in her head eased somewhat.

  “You are very good at that.” She regretted the words. He was good with his hands because he used them a lot—on other women.

  “Do you feel any better?”

  “A little, yes. Thank you.” She moved away from his touch, the moment spoiled by the thoughts of those many, many other women.

  “How are you feeling after...earlier?”

  “I’m fine.” Hettie stared ahead at the seat opposite and counted the buttons on the fabric in her head. She sensed him still looking at her. “Do not worry, Jasper. I won’t be demanding marriage off you. It was only a kiss.”

  “I meant after the robbery.”

  “Oh.” She offered him a quick smile. “Yes, I am fine. I’m sure he is suffering more, knowing he was humiliated by a woman.”

  “Ah, but not just any woman. You are an astonishing creature, Hettie. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  She didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. Women like her simply did not spend time with rogues and the upper echelons of society. They remained in their country homes, devoting their time to others so that they could forget that they were lonely. She had few friends, she supposed, only the children and the women at the orphanage. She tried to picture returning home and telling them of her adventures but failed. In fact, she wasn’t quite sure what she had. Principles, morals. Her steady upbringing. They didn’t seem to count for much now, particularly not when she’d let a man like Jasper kiss her nipples!

  “I hope we find Emma quickly,” Hettie said, feeling the need to remember exactly what this was about.

  It wasn’t so she could experience Jasper Cynfell kissing her nipples or so she could frighten a highwayman. It was for her sister. Lord only knew what trouble she could be in. And what if that man had joined her and they were already married?

  She thought it more likely Emma was lost and alone. Emma needed her and Hettie needed to be there for her.

  “We shall. I shall start my search for her tomorrow morning. I’m sure it won’t take long.”

  “Your search? I must help too. And how can you be so confident? Young girls must be lost in cities like Edinburgh all the time.”

  “I have plenty of contacts. I’ll find her,” he told her determinedly, ignoring her declaration of wanting to join the search.

  Hettie didn’t argue. She was too tired to. Tomorrow she’d face him and tell him he wasn’t going to leave her behind. Emma would need her sister at her side.

  As she watched the passing countryside and thought of Emma, scared and alone, her lids grew heavy. She found herself wavering toward Jasper as if drawn by a magnetic force.

  “Rest on me,” he murmured.

  She couldn’t help it—the temptation was too great. It felt so nice to have someone care for her, even if it was temporary. She drifted off to sleep while her mind clouded with a mix of memories, or perhaps some of them were dreams. She thought of Jasper and his kisses and then of him doing more, of his fingers finding her secret spot and bringing her more pleasure than she was ever able to. If she’d have been properly awake she might have felt ashamed but she was too tired to feel shame so she only revelled in it—revelled in a world where people like Jasper Cynfell adored women like her.

  ***

  They arrived in Edinburgh shortly after four o’clock. The autumn evening was darkening but the streets were still busy. Jasper retrieved their luggage but couldn’t find a porter to take it to a cab. He’d already informed Hettie they were staying in The George Hotel and that she had no choice on the matter. She made some vague noise about it being too expensive and she’d have to pay him back but thankfully for him, she was too tired to make too much fuss.

  Once they reached the hotel, he planned on having a meal sent up to her and would ensure she had an early night. He couldn’t quite say why—particularly given how this woman had taken on a highwayman and won—but he wanted to look after her.

  He wanted more than that, he suspected.

  Jasper’s admiration for Hettie grew by the hour. No, the minute. He’d never met anyone so selfless and so headstrong. Hettie Foster didn’t care for what others thought and that appealed to him greatly. Most women of his acquaintance spent most of their time preening and worrying on what others thought of them.

  “Let us find a carriage,” he called to her over the crush of people. He escorted her out of the train station with difficulty as the crowds pushed and surged like waves on a beach. He very nearly got washed away in them until they burst out into the street. Jasper scowled. No carriages were waiting outside the station.

  When he glanced down the street, he realised why. The road was blocked by demonstrators.

  “What is going on?” Hettie asked, rising up on tiptoes. No doubt she was able to hear the chanting even if she couldn’t see it.

  “A demonstration. Looks like workers.” He narrowed his gaze at the signs and nodded to himself. The boards were painted with declarations of needing more money or better working conditions.

  And unfortunately they were blocking the road they needed to take to get to the hotel. They were also coming closer, marching with determination.

  “Let us see if we can find a carriage.” He grasped her arm and led her along the road in the other direction. His heart sank when another group of workers revealed themselves to be marching up in that direction too. It looked as though the two groups intended to meet before continuing on their demonstration. Using her arm as leverage again, he began to walk them back to the station.

  “We had better wait it out at the station.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide as the crowds closed in around them. Jasper fought to drag them through but the masses were thick and unyielding. Angry shouts rattled his ears and his grip around Hettie’s arm slipped. He twisted and fumbled to grab her again but all he could see was her hat. He shoved a man aside and turned back.

  “Hettie.”

  Bloody hell, he’d lost her. He scanned the spot she’d been in and couldn’t even see her feathers now. The woman was too small. “Hettie,” he tried again but his voice was lost to the din.

  Bitterness began to burn in his gut. God, now he’d lost her and her sister. He’d failed them both. He continued to push his way through the crowd, searching frantically for her. Every time he saw a flash of blue—the colour of her jacket and hat—he forced his way over, only to be disappointed.

  Goddamn it. The crowds eased away, leaving the road strewn with pamphlets. The carriages began to filter back down the road so Jasper had to retreat to the pavement. Had she been swept along with the demonstrators? Harmed in some way? If she’d have been trampled, he�
�d have spotted her surely. There were no injured people lying in the road or propped up against one of the buildings. Jesus, he hoped she was unharmed. He’d never forgive himself. Never.

  He took the time to search the area again and paused to check the station. Jasper considered that maybe she had taken shelter in there as planned but couldn’t see how she would have made it through the crowds. She was too small, too vulnerable. He should have protected her better. When he found her…if he found her...

  Jasper curled a fist. He had to. How could he go a day without seeing Hettie Foster? It was almost incomprehensible. Somehow that woman had burrowed under his skin and he needed her.

  He needed her. Christ.

  Jasper wandered the streets of Edinburgh for several hours. Sickness churned in his stomach. If she was outside, in a strange city, not even her umbrella could save her. Not to mention, she didn’t even have it. He still had their luggage. Hettie had nothing.

  Putting down the bags, he took a moment to scrub a hand over his face and find his bearings. He wasn’t far from the hotel. He’d be better off finding a room and at least depositing these bags so he could walk quicker. If he was to wander the streets all night, so be it.

  The golden glow of the windows enticed him in. Really he longed for a bath and a hot meal, but not until he found Hettie. He paused in the doorway to reposition the hatbox as it nearly slipped from his grip and squinted at the luxurious surroundings. A chandelier hung from the entrance way and marbled floors shone underfoot. Several recesses held busts of famous Scots, if he recalled correctly. He had a few friends in Edinburgh so it wasn’t his first time staying here.

  A few friends he hoped he could call on for help, if needed. First to help him find Hettie, then to inform him of any charitable institutions who might offer aid to someone like Emma. He had strong suspicions Emma would seek aid from them once she realised Brandon had no intention of sweeping her off her feet.

  Should he have told Hettie about her? The woman was going to be angry with him when she found out he knew more about her sister’s situation than she did. But what was the sense in worrying her unnecessarily? It was better they found her first. Then she could be mad at him.

  That was if he ever found Hettie.

  “Jasper.”

  Great, now he was hearing things.

  “Jasper!”

  He flicked his attention to the scattering of tables and chairs that would have looked more at home outside a Parisian restaurant than in a hotel in Scotland, and he froze. The bags fell from his numb fingers as relief washed through him. Jasper fumbled to grab them and hurried over to her.

  “Hettie, what in the devil—?”

  She eyed him calmly over the brim of her cup as though nothing unusual had just occurred, as though he hadn’t been scared beyond his wits. She took a sip of her tea and placed the cup and saucer down.

  “It’s about time—”

  He dropped the bags next to her chair and hauled her up by her arms. “Thank God. I thought I’d lost you.”

  She laughed. “Jasper...”

  He wrapped his hands around her face and kissed her hard on the mouth. He cared little for who saw. All that mattered was Hettie was safe and in his arms.

  “Jasper!”

  “Forgive me.” He released her. “I thought you would be lying dead in the streets somewhere. I was about to head back out and search for you.”

  “You’ve been searching for me this whole time?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “I assumed you would have figured out I’d go straight to the hotel. I did not see much sense in wandering the streets and getting lost.”

  Jasper chuckled. “Of course you didn’t. You are the most sensible woman I know. I should have realised.”

  “Well, you must be tired. Do you want to have a cup of tea?”

  “Perhaps we should go to our rooms first.”

  “Yes.” She ran her gaze over him. “You look weary.”

  He shook his head in dismay. Weary wasn’t the word. About five decades older, more like. He’d never felt so terrified in his life. Which confirmed something that had been creeping up on him since he’d met Hettie.

  He was falling for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jasper arranged it so that their rooms were next to each other. His protectiveness touched Hettie. The relief on his face when he’d spotted her in the hotel entrance had made her heart sing. Was it at all possible that Jasper cared for her? Perhaps she was just one more in that long line of women but she didn’t think so. If she was, he’d have had her in bed by now. Or tried at the very least. She was hardly going to give up her virginity to a rogue, but she wouldn’t have put it past him to try.

  No. No, that wasn’t right. The man she’d thought he was would have tried. She wasn’t so sure about the real Jasper, though. There was no doubting he was a flirt and a rogue. He enjoyed chasing those women and made no apologies for it. However, at the heart of that flirtatious manner was an intelligent man. A caring one too. Whatever the sins of his past were, she didn’t think this man would go about taking virginities.

  He glanced her way as they followed the porter to their rooms. Her heart gave a little bounce in her chest. Was it foolish to believe she could capture his attention? Perhaps. But had she not been debating his fine qualities only a moment ago? There was a chance—a small one—that he too saw beneath her exterior. Did he see how well they worked together? How he eased her out of her rigid shell while she kept him out of trouble?

  There was no doubting it. She just had to make sure Emma was safe first. When all this was over, she wanted to spend more time with Jasper. For once, she saw her life as more than simply serving others. This tiny, selfish voice inside her begged her to take something for herself for a change. That something was Jasper.

  Foolish or not, she had to try. He might reject her, and she would return home and forget all about him. But at least she would have tried. If she’d learned anything from Jasper, it was that anything was worth attempting once.

  The porter showed her into her room and deposited her bags. Jasper went into his room but returned shortly after as she began unpacking. He settled himself on the bed and eyed her, as though it was entirely normal for her to have a man in her room.

  “You should not be in here,” she told him.

  “Pish, no one knows who I am here.”

  “The hotel staff knows and before long there will be gossip.” She expected him to tease her, but instead his expression grew dark.

  “Does it bother you, Hettie? That people shall gossip about you and me?”

  Once it had. But now...? “Not really. Who am I, after all? No one knows my name. I’m sure I shall be forgotten soon enough.”

  He stood and strode over, his brows furrowed in what could only be described as a ferocious expression. If she didn’t know him better, she’d think he was angry with her.

  “Never. Who could forget you?”

  Hettie gave a depreciative laugh. “Everyone. It is easily done, I assure you.”

  “I will not.”

  She froze and looked into his eyes, so warm and rich and inviting. Slowly, she lowered her skirt back into the travelling bag and licked her lips. “Why...” Her voice came out reed thin. “Why shall you not forget me?”

  A loud thump resounded in her ears while she waited for the answer. Her heart must have been pounding faster than a steam train.

  “I like you very much, Hettie,” he told her in a low tone.

  A finger came up to press a strand of hair behind her ear. Her cheek tingled from the touch. Her chest constricted.

  “Very, very much.” He leaned in and brushed the sweetest, most delicate kiss across her lips. “Hettie, I should like to court you once this is over.”

  She swallowed hard. “C-court me?” Of course, this was what she’d been imagining, dreaming, but the reality of it...? Hettie couldn’t quite bring herself to believe he really wanted her. She’d thoroughly expected
to be rejected.

  “Yes.”

  “As in...” She dropped her gaze away from his. “As in, you wish to bed me?”

  “No.”

  “As in...for something else?”

  “Yes.”

  Her gaze shot to his. “You understand I’m not like those other women. I will not be taken to bed and discarded.”

  “I do.” He came close again and this time his lips swept over hers several times. “As I have said, you are an amazing woman, Hettie Foster. And I should very much like to spend more time with you. I am smart enough to know when I have met my match.”

  And she had met hers, she thought.

  “In that case, yes. You can court me.”

  His eyes crinkled in the corners and he put his hands to her shoulders to draw her close. Jasper’s warm gaze ran over her, pausing at her mouth which still tingled from the all-too-brief kiss. Hettie couldn’t help herself. She lifted her chin in invitation.

  Jasper’s lips twitched. He lowered his mouth with too little haste, making her tingle from her head to the tips of her toes in anticipation.

  “Jasper,” she muttered in frustration.

  He gave a chuckle before touching his lips to hers. His hands remained reverent, only touching her shoulders then skimming up to rest his thumbs on her jaw line. Hettie tilted her head in a bid to press the kiss deeper. For a while, she thought he intended to merely tease her until she flattened herself against him and wrapped her arms about his waist.

  He released a sound—a little like that of a wounded animal or something else, she couldn’t be quite sure as her pulse throbbed in her ears. All she knew was that he sounded as frustrated as she felt. His body was so warm and alive, so hard and wonderful. To have it close to hers drove all sense from her. She suspected she could happily remain pressed against all those muscles for eternity. No wonder women flocked to him. Hettie could hardly blame them. One feel of him and all her morals had practically leaped from the hotel window.