Tempted by a Rake’s Smile: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Meghan Sloan

  “What do you mean?”

  “With your pale skin, it would make you look like you’re unwell.”

  Emily pouted and looked at the fabric again. Then she sighed and put it down.

  “Maybe you’re right. Which is a shame, because it’s a beautiful colour.”

  Cassandra sighed. She hated going shopping for dresses and anything related to fashion. It felt like a waste of time, but Cassandra was lucky that she had an innate ability to know what colours were the best for a situation and what would make a person stand out. It was why Emily had dragged her along to the nearest dressmaking store right after breakfast. Cassandra would rather go home and do something else but she wasn’t about to disappoint Emily, especially as her friend was not very good at choosing the right dress.

  “How about that colour but a little darker?” she suggested. “That would work.”

  “All right.” Emily laughed and swatted Cassandra’s arm. “Don’t sound like that. I had to get a new dress for the ball. Mother said I needed a new one, and I need you here with me.”

  “How have you managed to get to your age and not know what colours work for you, Emily?”

  “Because there are too many rules for us.” Emily sighed and ran her fingers over the row of fabrics on the table. “There are rules for women as to what colours we’re allowed to wear at certain times of day. There is a lot to take into consideration, and it’s a headache. I can’t keep up.”

  Cassandra wasn’t about to argue with that. She had a sharp mind and was able to remember specific details, but they changed so often even she was beginning to struggle to keep up. It would be so much easier to let people wear what they wanted, but society would scoff and talk.

  Nobody wanted to be spoken of badly, and Cassandra was no exception. She preferred to be left alone, which was why she was seldom present at social engagements. Emily was the same, but her parents were consistently pushing her to attend so she could further herself. It made both women roll their eyes.

  The shop bell tinkled as the door opened and closed. Cassandra didn’t pay it any attention. Mrs. Flynn’s dress store was incredibly busy so people were often coming in and out. Cassandra just wanted to keep her head down and leave. If only Emily could decide on what colour to choose; she had been around the shop three times already.

  Two times too many for Cassandra.

  “Good morning, little lady.”

  Cassandra looked up. And then did a double-take. Mr. Jackson was standing on the other side of the table, openly leering at her. Cassandra stared. The man didn’t live in this part of Ipswich, nor did he work anywhere nearby. To see him standing before her was bewildering.

  “Mr. Jackson. What are you doing here?”

  “I saw you as I was walking past.” Mr. Jackson spread his hands. “I thought I’d come along to...incite an apology.”

  Cassandra blinked. Had she heard him correctly?

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I want an apology from you, little lady,” Mr. Jackson sneered, his eyes narrowed. “You treated me disgracefully last night and shamed me in front of everyone. Now I want you to apologise.”

  The nerve of the man! Cassandra glanced at Emily, who was staring at Mr. Jackson like he had gone mad. So were the four young ladies and the matronly woman who were also in the shop. Cassandra folded her arms and cocked her head.

  “You want me to apologise to you for throwing you out of Seton Hall because you were drunk and putting your hands on Ada?”

  “She shouldn’t be asking for me to touch her.”

  “And you should not blame others for your actions. Ada never did anything to you, and I was within my duty to protect her.” Cassandra shook her head. “The girls work there, but they are not there to satisfy...certain urges. They are respectable young ladies and they expect to be treated as such.”

  Mr. Jackson sniggered.

  “If you think those girls are respectable, you’re incredibly naive. So,” he rolled his shoulders, “I can safely say you’re not going to apologise.”

  “I’m not going to apologise for throwing you out,” Cassandra jabbed a finger at him. She didn’t care that her anger was getting the better of her or that this was in a public place. How dare he speak like that so openly? “You should be the one apologising to me for the way you treated me. And to Ada. If you can’t do that, then you won’t be welcome at Seton Hall. I’ll make sure Father’s aware of it.”

  “You think he’s going to listen to you?”

  “He will because he’s not a disrespectful piece of dung.” Cassandra took a deep breath and stepped back. “Now, I would like you to get away from me.”

  The young ladies across the shop were whispering between themselves, one of them openly staring at Cassandra. Mr. Jackson arched an eyebrow and folded his arms.

  “I didn’t realise you owned this place, Miss Cassie. I can be in here if I please. You have no say in where I can and can’t go.”

  “But I can.”

  Cassandra looked around to see a tall, slim woman with iron-grey hair step into the shop from the back room. She fixed Mr. Jackson with a steely glare.

  “Sir, you need to leave. You’re disrupting my customers and I won’t tolerate your behaviour towards them. If you don’t, I can easily summon the constable.”

  Mr. Jackson looked like he was going to say something, but then thought better of it. He scowled at Mrs. Mary Flynn and turned back to Cassandra.

  “I’ll get my own back on you, you little chit,” he hissed. “You’ll regret making a fool out of me.”

  Cassandra bit back her retort. She watched him leave, the door slamming so hard behind him that the doorframe rattled. That was when Cassandra could breathe a little more easily. Even hours after throwing him out of Seton Hall, Mr. Jackson still smelled strongly of drink. He probably hadn’t stopped.

  “Cassie?” Emily appeared at her side. “What was that all about?”

  Cassandra sighed and turned to her friend.

  “I’ll tell you once we’ve got this fabric chosen.”

  Chapter 8

  “I’m glad you’re agreeing to this, Percy.” Gabriel shook his brother’s hand, “I don’t want to upset the young lady.”

  “The least I can do is meet her,” Percy shrugged. “If she’s that keen to meet me, I want to explore that possibility. There’s a chance I might like her, too.”

  Gabriel grinned.

  “Trust me, you’ll like her. Anyway, if this does work out and you do marry, you’ll be able to take some of the pressure off you. You’ll certainly make finding a wife for you so much easier than it was finding a wife for me.”

  Percy chuckled.

  “That’s because the suitable women around here are either too subservient to you or too much to handle.”

  “I prefer the latter, but they’re definitely not the type to be the future Viscountess.”

  “I’m sure Miss Gibson will be delighted to hear that.”

  Gabriel shuddered. He’d really messed things up starting an affair with Jessica. In his mind, a short-term fling with the girl would have been perfect. And Jessica had known this up front. It was a bit of fun, just between them. But now Jessica seemed to think that more could happen between them.

  She was determined to become Gabriel’s wife, even with clear indications that she was not going to get what she wanted. Even if Gabriel had considered her, she wouldn’t have been accepted by his parents. Derek Tattershall, especially, had declared that Jessica would never become his daughter-in-law, citing her unsuitable.

  Now he had witnessed how fixated she was, Gabriel was inclined to agree.

  He left the house and headed back home, going through the fields again. It was a beautiful day, and the sun was beating down enough to make Gabriel feel the sweat under his collar. He couldn’t wait to get back to the cottage and strip down to just his shirt so he could get a little cooler.

  Being disowned did have its advantages; he didn’t necessarily have
to follow the rules, and that included having to wear a multitude of clothing to follow the fashion of the time.

  But as Gabriel stepped through the gate of the cottage, he realised that it wasn’t going to happen for a while yet. Not when he had a guest. A tall, slim man with broad shoulders and dark hair flecked with white was pacing around the garden, inspecting the feeble attempts to tidy up the garden. Gabriel bit back a groan.

  His father was here.

  Taking a deep breath, Gabriel headed across the garden.

  “Father. I thought you were with Aunt Sally.”

  “She and your mother headed into Ipswich before coming back to the house for dinner.” Derek turned and fixed his son with a steely gaze, “I thought I’d see how you were getting on.”

  Gabriel snorted and folded his arms.

  “I’m the same as you were the last time you came to see me. Nothing’s changed.”

  “I noticed. Including your attitude,” Derek narrowed his eyes. “Allen said you went to talk to Percy.”

  “He is my brother, and he hasn’t cut contact with me.”

  “I do know that.” Derek shook his head, “I’m not going to force my son to not be in contact, but you cannot meet him at the house. You’re not welcome there.”

  “Then I’ll arrange to meet him elsewhere.”

  They glared at each other. Gabriel felt like he could hold his own against other people, but not his own father. Derek was a formidable man who didn’t suffer fools. The only fool who got the better of him was Gabriel himself, and even with his own children Derek had a limit.

  Gabriel had found that out and now it had cost him his position as heir, his allowance and his family. It was a very bitter thing to swallow, knowing that it was his own doing. At times he thought Derek had gone over the top, but now Gabriel knew his father had given him an adequate punishment. It was going to take something big to get himself out of this.

  “You seem to be coping fine here.” Derek wrinkled his nose at the garden, “Although you and Allen aren’t exactly good with gardening. That does need straightening out.”

  “We’re learning as we go.” Gabriel glanced towards the cottage. “This place is smaller than I thought, and it took two weeks to get rid of the mould inside. But it’ll do.”

  “It’s all you’re going to get. You’re lucky I let you stay on the estate.”

  “That I do understand, Father.”

  Before he was thrown out of the family, Gabriel was a little more brazen with his behaviour towards his father. Derek hadn’t liked it at all, and he told Gabriel off like he was a little boy. Now he was faced with an uncertain future over his own actions, Gabriel looked at his previous behaviour with a grimace. He hadn’t really grown up, and he took far too many liberties. It was a wonder he hadn’t been cut off long before then, but Derek’s patience had been incredibly stretched.

  “Allen says you’ve not had many female visitors,” Derek adjusted the sleeves on his jacket before folding his arms, “except for Miss Gibson. I thought I told you she was not welcome on the estate, even if it was here and not in the house.”

  “You make it sound like l asked her to come here.” Gabriel frowned, “I hope Allen also told you that I sent Miss Gibson away. Several times. I’ve told her that I don’t want her around.”

  “It’s a pity you didn’t think about that before you started…”

  His father broke off, his face going bright red and he looked away. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

  “We’re both grown men, Father. You can say it.”

  “Believe me, I can’t,” Derek sighed. “At least you’re keeping out of trouble. No more gambling?”

  “How can I when I have no money?”

  The urge was still there, but not as great. Gabriel was beginning to realise that his urge to gamble his money away was directly tied to the amount of money he had at his disposal. When there was nothing there, it backed down. Now he really had virtually nothing, Gabriel saw how childish he had been throwing his money away. And it had cost him dearly; more than just his allowance. His inheritance was gone.

  Hopefully, this situation wouldn’t stay so dire and his fortunes would change.

  Derek cleared his throat, adjusting his coat. Then he stepped around his son, not making eye contact.

  “Just remember what I said about Percy. Don’t come into our house again unless you have an invitation.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Gabriel watched his father leave, heading across the path and across the fields. For the first time in months, since being thrown out of the family, Gabriel wanted to cry. Every time his father walked away, it was like he was turning his back on his son. As someone who had looked up to his father as a child, this hurt. A lot.

  #

  Gabriel hadn’t planned on coming down to Ipswich again, especially when he’d spent most of the day before in town, but he was eager to tell Norman what he had planned. Maybe his friend would be able to give him some more advice on how to deal with Cassandra Seton. She was a bright, beautiful woman and she needed to be reeled in slowly, away from the family business. Norman knew her, and Gabriel wanted to make sure every part of his plan was covered.

  There were moments when he thought this was not going to work and he was being ridiculous about it, but then Gabriel pushed it aside. He wanted to own Montgomery Hall, no doubt about it. And to get the better custom in and be more successful, he had to knock Seton Hall off-balance. If their key to success was Seton’s own daughter, then Gabriel needed to take her out of the equation.

  It sounded cold and cruel, but Gabriel really wanted this. He knew business wasn’t as cut and dry as others believed, and people could go low to take out the competition. This wasn’t exactly taking out the competition; it was more like trying to get on an even footing.

  He needed to stop thinking about how this could go wrong and how Gabriel could be outed as a cad. In his head, he was doing his brother a favour finding a wife and he would be able to focus on getting the gambling place up to how it should be and pay Norman back in the process, without worrying about Seton Hall taking away their custom.

  This was what Gabriel wanted. Hopefully, there would be no broken hearts in the process.

  Gabriel was permitted upstairs to Thomas’ office. Norman’s office. Even though he had no desire to run the place, it was now Norman’s office until he sold the place. Hopefully he wouldn’t be considering any other offers because Gabriel was going to take it. They just needed to sort the paperwork out and then Gabriel would give Norman his payment.

  It had sounded so simple when he’d thought it up in his head. Hopefully, it would stay as simple in the coming days.

  Norman was at the desk, head bent over a thickly bound book, when Gabriel entered the room. He looked up and sat up in surprise.

  “Gabriel. I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve got an idea, Norman.”

  “Oh?” Norman closed the book and sat back. “About how to pay me for this place? Or are you still going with what we agreed on?”

  “The latter, but this idea is going to help me pay you back faster.”

  “And just how are you going to do that?”

  Gabriel settled into a chair across from Norman and sat forward.