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Love with a Notorious Rake

Page 3

by Karyn Gerrard


  “A pretty speech. And condescending. I know you’re from a wealthy family, though that is all I know about you. A daughter of a poor country doctor would not be suitable. We are not suitable.” She pushed his hand away. “Shall we continue on our walk?”

  He was genuinely surprised at her response. Class difference never entered his mind, but perhaps it was better that she believed such, for it would be easier for her to forget him. All that remained was the difficult task of forgetting her.

  They strolled along the lane, and the awkwardness between them crackled with life. He had acted a haughty fool. But then, hadn’t he always? For Cristyn spoke the truth: there was…something. Beyond lust or desire. At this stage of his turbulent life, he had no right to enter into a relationship with a kind, honorable woman who was no doubt a virgin.

  Aidan had always avoided virgins in the past. There was too much drama, tears, recriminations—or so he had witnessed with other men of his acquaintance. Also, there was the chance of being trapped into marriage. At a young age, he’d sworn a vow to keep his assignations to widows and other women of experience. Pleasure with no emotional attachments. Already there were too many complicated emotions swirling between him and Cristyn.

  Glancing at her, he grudgingly admired how candid she was regarding her feelings. No tears at all. “Your father invited me for dinner tonight. I can send my regrets, if you prefer.”

  “There is no need.” she huffed. “It will be a farewell dinner.” She gave him a brief, brittle smile, then marched ahead of him.

  Well. Goodbye it is. As he’d said, it was for the best. Crisis barely averted. He was proud of the restraint he’d showed, but why did he feel dejected about it all? It was complete torture not taking her in his arms and kissing her soundly. Is this what the rest of his life would be like, denying his pleasures until the end of days? God, what a horrible prospect. Aidan was frustrated beyond words, but also gratified that he’d ended this before it even started.

  Chapter 2

  Cristyn hurried toward the sanatorium, not daring to turn around, for she could feel Aidan’s stare boring through her. He often spoke in that conceited, who-cares tone of his, but there were occasions she’d caught him gazing at her with heated interest. Then he would quickly show his apathetic mask. But in her heart, she knew Aidan was attracted to her as much as she was to him. What had just happened between them more than proved it.

  Granted, his devilishly handsome looks were a factor in her interest. Who wouldn’t be drawn in by his wavy black hair and sky-blue eyes? His tall, lean form? His near-perfect face, which held a masculine beauty that took her breath away? But it was more than the outer shell. Perhaps it was the loneliness radiating in those cerulean eyes, or the etched lines of weariness bracketing his sensual mouth. The fact that he’d been brought low, but found the inner strength to accept his flaws and embrace his recuperation. Cristyn had witnessed his vulnerability, had seen him at his worst. He felt things deeply, though he was adept at hiding it. Aidan had touched her.

  Oh, she’d betrayed her own rules about staying professional in her dealings with patients. Cristyn had crossed a line, and it troubled her. What an utter and complete fool she’d made of herself. She had done well up until now, keeping her feelings for Aidan under wraps.

  Heavens, when he had stood close to her, leaning her against the tree, her entire body came alive, her insides thrumming with anticipation. She wanted his hands to roam and explore, for feeling his warm breath against her cheek and him briefly nuzzling her neck was not near enough. And the almost-kiss. For all her talk of being bold, why hadn’t she moved a fraction of an inch and met his perfectly shaped lips?

  Thanks to her nursing and study of anatomy, she was well aware what the hardness pressed against her thigh portended. It had thrilled her, and because of it she had not suppressed her moans of desire. The passion between them had sparked and flamed, there was no doubt of it.

  Yet he’d stepped away. “I am not a man to pin any hopes or dreams on.” How those words had broken her heart. “I would use you and toss you aside, as I have with many other women.” Despite their many conversations, Aidan had never spoken to her of his past. Considering the condition in which he’d arrived, she could only make assumptions. To hear he was a heartless seducer should have given her further pause—yet Cristyn remained firm in her belief that underneath was a man worthy of her compassion. Yes, he had touched her heart.

  As she headed for the entrance, she glanced up and saw her father standing at the window, with arms crossed and his mouth pulled into a straight line of annoyance. Oh, no. What had he witnessed? Hadn’t they been hidden well enough behind the tree?

  Crossing the threshold, she pulled her shawl from her shoulders. “Hello, Dad. I will look in on Mr. Holmes.”

  “Cris, could I speak to you in my office?” he asked, his voice grave.

  Blast it! “Yes, of course.”

  Her father motioned for her to take a seat. “Your mother, rest her soul, wanted you to take a different path. Attend a finishing school, perhaps find a suitable match with a young man of solid middle class standing and adequate wealth. She made me promise to steer you toward that exact course. Alas, when you showed interest in medical studies, I abandoned my pledge.” He frowned. “I allowed my ego and my desire to have you follow in my footsteps to cloud my judgment. You are bold, fearless, intelligent, and confident. If you were a man, you would be a prime candidate to attend Oxford or Cambridge and study medicine.” He exhaled, shaking his head.

  “But you’re not a man, and you’re not allowed to enter medicine. I should have remembered that salient fact. I should have protected you. What opportunity have you had to meet young men except here at the clinic?”

  Cristyn did not like the direction of this conversation. Her father’s tone was a combination of apprehension and annoyance. She remained quiet.

  “I watched you and Aidan Black. The discussion appeared emotional, at least on your end. I lost sight of you behind the huge oak, but I can well surmise what happened.” Her father rested his hands on the desk and frowned once again. “There have been more than a few handsome young men here the past five years. Why him?”

  Why him, indeed. Flushing with mortification, Cristyn was not sure how to proceed. She and her father were close, as it had only been the two of them since her mother passed seven years ago. But speaking of her inappropriate infatuation for Aidan Black caused the flush to spread right to the tips of her toes. “I’m not certain I am able to explain why,” she offered in a hushed voice.

  “Try.”

  “He touches my heart,” she replied quietly.

  “He’s not for you.”

  Cristyn frowned at her father’s stern tone. Two men had told her this today, and it rankled. As if she did not know her own mind. Or heart. When told in the past she could not do or have something, it had made her all the more determined to achieve her objective. “You believe I’m not good enough for him—”

  “On the contrary, my dear. He is not good enough for you.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “In what way? The fact that he’s recovering from an addiction? I thought you did not hold with such prejudices.”

  “I don’t, but without breaking doctor-patient confidentiality, I can state his desolate past would give you pause. I do not wish to see you hurt.”

  “I know nothing of his scandalous past; he’s never spoken of it to me. And you have instructed me not to ask questions of the patients, to ensure their privacy. But I can well speculate, considering the bruises and marks of abuse on his body when he first arrived. Has this to do with that brute of man showing up here this past February? Delaney, wasn’t it? He threatened Aidan, did he not?”

  “Again, I cannot reveal anything.”

  How infuriating. She’d briefly witnessed the confrontation after Aidan’s Uncle Garrett had burst into the room. Delaney stood
behind Aidan, holding him tight, brandishing a knife. It had been frightening to observe. But then Delaney had yelled at Cristyn and her father to leave, and she didn’t witness what happened next, nor hear anything of the conversation. “You think he will slide into his old lifestyle, don’t you?” What did he know about Aidan to make him believe that? How horrid was this “desolate past?”

  “Cristyn, not all discharged patients meet with complete success in their recovery. Will Aidan Black? I can only hope. But due to his wealth and selfish ways, he will be exposed to more temptation than most. He could slide into his old habits.”

  “You don’t like him,” she accused.

  “It’s not my job to like or dislike my patients.” He paused, took her hand, and squeezed it, his expression concerned. “I don’t want that kind of life for you, never knowing if he will wander off the path of sober living. The uncertainty of it. I’ve revealed too much. It hardly matters, as he will be leaving shortly.”

  Cristyn was rather shocked by her father’s blunt opinion. “Well, regarding his selfishness, he does come from a privileged background, correct?”

  Her father gave a brisk nod in reply.

  “Surely this is not the essence of the man. I believe Aidan feels things deeply, but keeps his emotions hidden. I believe he is on the right path, and merely needs—”

  “A caring and compassionate woman to bring him out of his shell? To guide his way?” He released her hand and sat back in his chair. “Along with the reasons I’ve already stated, he’s not of your class; he’s far above us in station. It would not work.”

  Frustrated, Cristyn frowned. “I don’t agree. But as you say, it hardly matters. Aidan has already informed me that once he departs, we will not see each other again.”

  Blast her father for looking relieved. “It’s for the best.”

  She stood. Simmering anger caused her to clench her fists. She knew she should leave before saying something she would regret. “I will go and attend to Mr. Holmes.”

  “I am sorry you’re upset. As difficult as it is, you cannot allow emotions to enter into caring for a patient. Empathy of course, but nothing else.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m proud of you, Cristyn. Never forget that. You have accomplished much these past years. I love you, and I don’t want to see you hurt in any way.” He gave her an affectionate smile.

  Biting her lower lip, she nodded, too overwhelmed to reply. As she exited her father’s office, her heart contracted in pain, as if it had suffered a permanent fissure.

  What did she want from Aidan Black? For him to admit they had formed a bond. That the bond went beyond intense physical attraction. That it was passionate, if the brief burst of desire at the oak tree was any indication. She wanted him to accept they had much in common, were already good friends, had shared a certain…intimacy with regard to his recuperation.

  Far above us in station? How far above? Should she confront Aidan and demand that he own up to his feelings and reveal his past? He had purposely avoided any topic concerning his life. She knew nothing, other than he was rich and resided somewhere in Kent.

  No. She had some pride. Tonight at dinner she would act the polite hostess. And when he departed, she would think on him no more.

  * * * *

  Mrs. Williams brought in plates of food and laid them in front of Cristyn, her father, and Aidan. The woman had been hired recently, and besides doing the cooking and cleaning in their small cottage, she did the same at the sanatorium.

  “The meal looks wonderful, Mrs. Williams, as always.” Her father smiled.

  The widow flushed, smoothing her apron. “Thank you, Doctor. If you need anything else, call out.” She departed. The room was rife with undercurrents—not only between Cristyn and Aidan, but the housekeeper and her father as well. Was something developing there? Cristyn wouldn’t mind; he’d been alone for years. Everyone deserved a degree of happiness.

  Cristyn glanced at Aidan, who was staring at his food with disinterest. Though he may not have believed it, he deserved happiness as well. What she would give to see the sadness gone from his beautiful azure eyes. It had been her experience at the clinic that, on the whole, most people did not succumb to addiction unless there was underlying melancholy—she had seen it in him.

  He wore a crisp white shirt, matching neckcloth, and a gray and black waistcoat, looking entirely too handsome for his own good. And for my own good.

  Picking up his utensils, Aidan cut into the meat, making small, bite-sized pieces. He appeared to be in no particular hurry to consume his meal. “I wish to thank you both for your humane and empathetic treatment during my incarceration.”

  Her father chuckled. “How amusing, though it’s true your sentence is nearing its end. You can be proud of your achievements.”

  Aidan scoffed. “I was not a brave soldier, injured on the field of battle, drowning in such pain and agony that opium was the only choice for relief.”

  “You were drowning in pain and agony of another sort,” her father replied between bites.

  Aidan’s brows knotted, perhaps in displeasure at the honest assessment. Cristyn was fascinated at his reaction as his mouth twisted into a cynical frown. “Do not make excuses for me, Doctor. I willingly chose the course I traveled. Excess and thrills. Sin and adventure. No other reasons.”

  “I beg to differ,” Cristyn interjected. “The soul can be wounded as deeply as any part of the body. I’ve witnessed this firsthand with many patients. Especially with you.”

  Aidan finally looked at her, for he hadn’t given her anything more than a cursory glance since he arrived for dinner. His glaring eyes held a seething anger. “You presume to know me?”

  She met his annoyed gaze, not intimidated by him in the least. “Yes, I do. Better, perhaps, than you know yourself.”

  “You do not know me at all,” Aidan replied, his voice tight.

  “Cristyn,” her father said sternly. “Enough.”

  Suitably admonished, she looked down at her plate of food. Obviously still hurt and angry from their afternoon walk, she was allowing her emotions to run amuck, causing her to act inappropriately. The room was quiet for several minutes; the only sound was utensils clattering against stoneware plates. She picked up her fork and poked at the carrots, her appetite all but gone. Blast it! She must gain control, but inside she was in turmoil.

  “I’ve been thinking, Doctor, and believe it best I depart before the end of this week,” Aidan declared.

  Cristyn’s turmoil escalated at his statement. He couldn’t wait to get away from her. It stung, and her heart ached at his coolly spoken words.

  “Won’t it take time to send word to your family to dispatch the carriage?” her father asked.

  “I’ve decided to find a serviceable horse. I have funds. But it will mean leaving my trunk here until I can send someone to fetch it.”

  “Of course. But we should discuss this further, in a private session.”

  Away from her. Frustrated at both men and their secret conversations, Cristyn blurted, “And where is your home in Kent, exactly, Mr. Black?” She was going to get answers to a few of her questions before he departed. To the devil with proprieties and rules.

  Aidan shrugged. “What does it matter?”

  “Is it a government secret?” she demanded.

  “No. My family home is not far from Sevenoaks. Do you know it?”

  “Hardly, but I can find it on a map, I’m sure.” Cristyn popped a few buttered carrots in her mouth and chewed, watching Aidan closely. “And what does your family do, Mr. Black? Do you have an occupation?”

  “You mean besides dissipation and indulgence? Alas, I am a wastrel. A disappointment to my family and, it turns out, to myself,” Aidan replied with annoyance.

  “Cris,” her father began, but this time, she ignored him.

  “As for my family,” Aidan c
ontinued, also ignoring her father, “we breed horses. It is a lucrative enterprise. Perhaps you wish to know how lucrative?” he sneered.

  “And what if I do?” Cristyn snapped. The conversation was quickly veering into an argument, emotions heightened on both sides. You could carve the tension with a knife. Dismissing it, she plundered forward. “But then, you are far above us, and no doubt find such conversation about money crass and tedious. I’m sure you find most subjects tedious, as well as those below you in social ranking, whatever that ranking is.”

  Her father sucked air through his teeth, shocked at her rude words.

  Aidan’s mouth quirked, but his eyes narrowed in irritation. “Well, I am certainly finding you tedious at the moment.”

  “Cristyn, Aidan, perhaps we should—”

  “It is entirely mutual. Not used to a woman speaking her mind, I’ll be bound. By all means, return home to your horse stables and find a biddable young lady who will simper and acquiesce to your many whims.” She slammed her knife and fork on the table and pushed away her half-eaten meal, which sat like a lump in her stomach, churning and grinding and causing a wave of nausea to pass through her. “Someday, you will be sorry that you denied what’s between us.”

  “Cristyn!” her father cried.

  “No, Dad, I will not stay quiet. The first time that I’ve given my heart…” The words died in her throat. What had she done? Her father was mortified. Aidan was clearly incensed, but heat shimmered in his half-lidded eyes. It was all too much. Cristyn stood, damned if she would apologize. The sentiments she had expressed were honest and true. “If you will excuse me. I’ve had enough.” Enough of the meal. Enough of feeling lost in inestimable emotions she could not name. Enough of Aidan.

  She marched from the room, then broke into a dash until her bedroom, where she slammed the door hard enough that the pictures on the wall rattled. With a slide of the lock, her hands flew to her flushed cheeks. She had made a fool of herself.

 

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