The Kiss of a Rogue

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  "You are awake. That is good. I shan't have to fetch the physician after all."

  With a start, Adam propelled himself into a sitting position and looked around for the source of the sweetly feminine voice that had all but shocked him senseless. Within a moment, he found her. And he had to wonder if he had not suffered a blow to the head of some sort.

  The woman was, in a word, stunning. A goddess, really. Seated on a nearby marble bench, she looked the very picture of English femininity with gorgeous brunette hair and creamy skin. He wasn't certain what color her eyes were, for she was rather far away and the sun rising behind her obscured all but her most basic of features.

  Still, she was perfection incarnate, everything that he had thought he might never be able to find in a woman again. His pulse raced every time he looked at her and he could imagine nothing more pleasant than kissing her senseless before giving her a good tumble. And she, a proper and perfect lady, was here with him in Enwright's garden, offering to fetch a physician. How blessedly lucky could one man such as him possibly be?

  Wait. What? A woman like that with him in the garden? Alone? Oh, God. What had he done this time? How badly had he screwed up yet again? He was fairly certain that he did not want to know.

  And why did he need a physician? Was he hurt? Had he hurt someone else? Oh, God, what would he do if he had? And why couldn't he remember? Did he even want to remember? Once more, he decided that perhaps ignorance was indeed bliss.

  "I am sorry," Adam finally managed, his voice thick and halting as he managed to slow both his brain and his body's reaction to her. "You have me at somewhat of a disadvantage, Lady...?" He allowed the question to hang between them, his head still muzzy and his memories slipping through his fingers like water.

  His garden goddess rose and moved towards him slowly, though given that he was still on the ground and he wasn't altogether certain that he could walk, he doubted that he was much of a threat to her at the moment. He also could not help but note that her gaze skimmed his naked chest with some decided interest. He should feel at least a bit embarrassed, for this woman was clearly a lady, but he could not quite summon the moral rectitude to do so. Likely she did not know who he was. Once she did, she would turn away in disgust, so it was best, he decided, to enjoy her admiration for as long as it lasted.

  He would take his small victories where he could get them these days.

  "I am Miss Abigail Northrup," she said in a voice that would put the songbirds - the same ones still busy twittering away in the trees - to shame. Once more, Adam wondered how hard he had hit his head, for his entire skull was beginning to ache a bit. Not to mention that thoughts such as these were not like him at all. He wasn't the poetic sort.

  She stopped a few paces away from him and eyed him a bit critically. "You, of course, are the Duke of Hathaway." She did not seem overly impressed as she said this and his heart fell just a bit. Apparently she did know who he was after all. "And you also cannot hold your spirits, it seems."

  She had him there, for that was true. He couldn't. He had never been able to, even when he was younger. Now, as a general rule, Adam did not imbibe in more than a glass or two of wine at dinner. He never, ever touched the harder liquors like scotch or the whiskey, imported from America, that was becoming all the rage. "I do not imbibe, no," he managed with as much dignity as he could muster, which was not nearly as much as he would have liked. Then he remembered his state of undress. Drinking would explain rather a lot. "I take it that I did imbibe last evening, however?" He prayed she would give him an honest answer.

  To his relief, she did. "Only because of a silly and stupid dare." She quirked an eyebrow at him, something he could see far more clearly now that she had moved out of the direct line of the rising sun. "You were something of the life of the party last evening." She twitched her lips, obviously trying to suppress the urge to laugh. That was not good. Adam did not want this goddess laughing at him. "Then again, when one is regarded as a universal arse for forcing one's sister to cancel her nuptials and break her engagement, one will likely try very hard to make people forget that he is disliked by just about everyone at the moment. Including his own family."

  Adam winced. Sophia and Selby. How could he have forgotten? The row with his sister had been nothing short of absolutely horrid. And extremely public. But it had been necessary. Even if Sophia did not wish to hear his reasoning. He was only trying to protect her. He loved her and he would do anything to ensure that she was not ruined - or worse, miserable. After all, he could buy her a husband if necessary, but it was far more difficult to free her from a man who used and abused her.

  "What did I do?" he asked, slowly rising to his feet and looking around for his missing clothing. He doubted that anyone had helped him remove it, and this woman's unabashed gaze on his bare chest was making him uncomfortable. Or more uncomfortable than he had been in recent memory - which, to be fair, took a great deal of doing on her part.

  "It is more what you didn't do, your grace," Miss Northrup replied as she took a few steps towards a nearby rosebush and plucked his evening shirt from its thorny branches. "You were already here when Lord Selby arrived last night and he all but challenged you to a duel over Lady Sophia."

  Adam's hands froze. "I did not...do such a thing. Did I?" He thought not, especially since it was dawn and he had awoken lying on the ground alone. Still, he took a quick look at his person just to be certain there was no blood. He considered it a minor miracle that there was none.

  Miss Northrup shook her head. "No, thank all that is good. Lord Enwright and his lovely wife intervened before the situation could progress much further." She pursed her lips. "Though you should know that the new Lord Berkshire was willing to be your second, had it become necessary."

  Adam took his shirt from her hands and shrugged into it, though he didn't bother to button it, as he could not seem to make his fingers work properly. Dash it all, anyway. "Good to know. I think." He paused and looked at the goddess again. Even though she had a name, he could not stop thinking of her as his garden goddess. "Do I even know Berkshire? I suppose I must if he offered to second me, though I cannot for the life of me place the chap." He sighed and rubbed at his temple where he did feel a sizable lump. That explained the confusion. "And afterwards? For I am certain the man was not about to let the matter drop."

  His goddess shrugged. "You challenged Lord Selby to a game of billiards. That was, of course, after a round of fencing was soundly voted down by Lady Enwright. It seems she did not wish for there to be blood on her new Aubusson carpets. I cannot say I blame her, for they are quite lovely."

  To his shame, Adam did not remember a moment of the described incident. He prayed that no one else did either, but he thought that might be a futile hope indeed. "And then?"

  Miss Northrup - for he really did need to begin thinking of her properly - handed him his topcoat, his waistcoat still nowhere to be seen. "Then he challenged you to drink with him. Scotch. The finest the Highlands has to offer. He had three bottles already with him for some reason."

  "And I did." Adam knew that he wasn't likely to have been able to resist the challenge, no matter how foolish and stupid it might be. "Drink that is. Hell and blazes." Then he looked up sheepishly. "My apologies, my lady. I should not speak so in front of you." Yet another offense his mother would likely kill him for if she knew of it.

  This time, Miss Northrup truly did smile and she instantly went from being merely beautiful to breathtakingly gorgeous in a mere moment. And Adam's heart sank into his boots - which, thankfully, he was still wearing. "Fear not, your grace. For I am not a lady. As I have said, I am a mere miss, the daughter of a wealthy merchant who has a dowry large enough to tempt the fortune hunters of England into courting a woman of low birth. Even some of the peerage has stooped so low. It is why I am here, after all." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, enough about me. As I was saying about you..."

  For a moment, Adam simply wanted to shut his eyes and go back to sl
eep on the lawn, heedless of who might find him. Instead, he gathered his wits and offered Miss Northrup his arm as any proper gentleman should. "Please continue, Miss Northrup. I would like to know how thoroughly I have blundered yet again." That seemed to be all too common with him these days.

  "Well," she hesitated, biting her lip and he noticed how plump it looked in that particular moment, "you drank quite a bit. And then you won the game."

  "I won?" Adam was shocked. He was an excellent billiards player, but he had never beaten Lord Selby. Pity that the first time he did so, he was too foxed to remember the occasion.

  She smiled and guided him to a bench hidden behind some trees where they would not be in view of anyone who might venture out of the house. "You did. It was, I am told, a magnificent shot that stole the victory for you. Right out from under Lord Selby's nose."

  "And then?" For Adam feared that he would not like this part very much.

  "And then you downed the rest of the scotch. There was not much remaining," she hastened to add, "but you did drink straight from the bottle, providing everyone with a good laugh. After that, well...no one is quite certain. You made some sort of statement regarding your eligibility and then went out the French doors and onto the terrace."

  The very terrace that had been roughly in his line of view that morning. If he was being creative in his thinking. "And after that?"

  Miss Northrup shrugged, though she did blush prettily. "I am given to understand that you vaulted over the balustrade rather than using the stairs, landed in some hedges and then took off into the night. Someone said they saw you hit your head on a bench when you leapt."

  Adam decided that would likely explain the lump on the back of his skull, as well as the scratches he was now noticing on his hands. And, of course, the destruction to his clothing. He still had yet to find his waistcoat. Though why he had removed his clothing still remained something of a mystery. "You were not privy to this...er...display, I take it?"

  The beauty smiled and shook her head. "No, your grace. I was in the parlor with the other ladies. But word reached us rather quickly, for Lord Selby was all too willing to share the details."

  "I imagine that he was." Adam slumped over and put his head in his hands. It was not bad enough that he had behaved like a complete and total idiot during the last few weeks of the season. It was also not enough that his sister now hated him and Selby was likely to do anything to get Adam to change his mind about the rakehell's betrothal to Sophia. Adam had also managed to humiliate himself on the opening night of Lord Enwright's infamous summer house party and masquerade ball. He had hoped to attend this party and undo some of the damage he had wrought over the last few weeks - not add to it.

  Then again, if he gave in to his baser impulses and kissed the fair Miss Northrup as he was longing to do, he would add yet another sin to his long list of them. At the moment, he was seriously considering taking the risk. He had the feeling that her kiss would be worth any additional damage to his reputation. But he doubted that she would feel the same about him and the risk. At the moment, he couldn't think of any woman who would.

  "For what it is worth, I think Lord Selby is being rather unfair." Adam looked up to see Miss Northrup biting her lip again and looking ever so charming in the process. "I cannot deny that he is a man of...questionable decisions at times. Not to mention questionable morality."

  Oddly, that made Adam feel a little bit better. "So you know of his gambling." It was not a question.

  Once more, she shrugged and for a moment, Adam was reminded of the night he had spoken with Lord Raynecourt and his life had turned upside down. "I am an eligible woman of no title and great fortune and even greater dowry. Of course I know that he gambles with far more coin than he has skill. And that he does so far too often. Wretched beast that he is."

  Just then, the absurdity of everything hit Adam and he began to laugh. He could not help himself. There was, however, just one more thing he needed to know. "And how, exactly, Miss Northrup, did you happen to come upon me in Lord Enwright's garden? Half dressed, might I add?"

  "It is not what you think!" she protested quickly, a stricken expression on her face. "I am a country girl at heart, having spent my formative years in Wales and not in Plymouth where my family lives now. Therefore, I rise early. Well before the dawn on most days. I cannot help it that the peerage's hours do not agree with me."

  She looked so worried that Adam reached out and snagged her hands into his own, heedless of the fact that he was not wearing gloves - and should have been. "Hush, Miss Northrup. I did not mean to insult you. I always say the wrong thing, I fear. What I meant was, why were you up at that hour and walking in the garden. Nothing more."

  "Oh." She blushed prettily and Adam felt something stir within him again. He needed to stop that sort of thinking right now. "Well then, I have just told you why I was awake. As for why I was in the garden, well, at home on the outskirts of Plymouth, I walk every morning. I cannot do that in London, of course, or at least not as easily. But here?" She lifted a hand and looked around. "I did not think anyone would notice. Or likely care. And I did ask permission from Lady Enwright first."

  Which, Adam knew, Lucy would likely have granted. Lady Lucy Enwright, their host's wife, knew hardship - at least in the days before she had met her husband - and had likely seen a kindred soul in Abigail Northrup. Of course she would have given her permission for the other woman to roam freely about the public areas of the estate. It would not have occurred to her to do otherwise.

  "And you stumbled upon me." Adam thought that much was obvious."

  "I did." Miss Northrup rose from her place beside him and he immediately missed her calming presence. "I was admiring the statuary and, well, there you were. I checked to make certain you were breathing, and then sat there to see if you would wake up." She blushed again rather prettily. "And...er...there was both a rabbit and a hedgehog in your vicinity. They have been known to give a testing nibble here and there. I would have hated for you to lose one of your fingers."

  That made Adam laugh harder and it took him a moment to regain his composure. "Well, I thank you, Miss Northrup, from saving me from a pack of ravenous hedgehogs."

  When he put it that way, it did sound a little silly. "It was only one hedgehog, your grace. And a rather small one at that."

  In truth, Abigail had no idea why she had stayed with the unconscious duke when she had stumbled across him that morning, just as the sun was breaking over the horizon. Other than the fact that he was extremely attractive with his thick, dark hair and handsome face. And altogether too intriguing in his nearly naked state.

  Her chaperone, the forever-frowning Miss Barbara Cutwright, would have a fit of the vapors if she could see Abigail at the moment. Alone with a half-dressed, extremely muscular man who just happened to be the notorious and infamous Duke of Hathaway? Miss Cutwright would be utterly scandalized. Which was why Abigail had no intention of telling the other woman where she had been this morning. Or why.

  Because the truth was, Abigail should have done the proper thing and left the duke precisely where she had found him and not looked back. His health and well-being were none of her concern.

  Though there really had been a hedgehog. Who, it should be noted, had sniffed the duke, obviously found him lacking, and then moved on to another part of the gardens, likely in search of something far more palatable.

  Abigail supposed she had stayed by his side because she felt someone should. When she had learned from her maid, Elsie, that morning that Lord Hathaway had never returned from his garden adventure the night before, she had found it odd that most people thought it a source of humor rather than an issue they should be worried about. Apparently the duke was all the on-dit among not only the servants but the houseguests who had remained awake until the very early hours. Someone was even taking bets on when the man might finally be found.

  Though the night had been warm, a man of consequence - and a duke, no less - should not have b
een made to stumble about in the darkness with no one searching for him - no matter what he had done in his past. While it was unlikely that he could do himself any real harm, there were several ponds in the area, as well as a massive lake on the far side of the property and several water follies and fountains. If nothing else, drowning was a distinct possibility.

  Not to mention that a man so handsome and well...delectable...as the duke deserved better than to be left wandering aimlessly around an English estate. Possibly with a head injury. Not that his being handsome had anything to do with it, really. But Abigail had eyes, and it was difficult not to notice how perfectly formed the man was. Some might say that it was indecent, really, how attractive he was. Again, not that his looks should have had anything to do with the matter.

  To Abigail's mind, it also did not matter if the duke was not presently in favor at the moment or if his sister had wished him dead - and she had done just that, rather loudly in fact, shortly after all of the guests had arrived the previous day. This man was still a person and deserved at least a bit of respect. So when she had stumbled across the duke in less-than-decorous circumstances earlier, her first thought had been to run and fetch a doctor. But then, if she was the one who found him, would she be viewed as ruined? Especially given his scandalous reputation.

  Back home, likely no. Those in Plymouth were a bit more forgiving of unusual circumstances. But these were Londoners. Peers of the realm. And they had a different set of values than she did. So while this was her final social gathering before she declared herself on the shelf, Abigail had no wish to ruin herself either and be forced to depart in shame. Or worse, marry a man she did not know, especially if someone like the Dowager Duchess of Holmby caught wind of Abigail stumbling across the half-naked duke.