The Kiss of a Rogue

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Actually, Adam doubted he would ever be fully forgiven for everything he had done wrong in the last few months. But he didn't say that. Instead he nodded, accepting the bit of news that Rayne had brought him as humbly as he could. "Thank you. That is good to know." Then he flicked his gaze to the still-closed door. "But I do not think you dashed in here simply to tell me that."

  Rayne shrugged again. "Perhaps not, but it was a welcome diversion from the pack of raving females that have been following me about since I arrived." He gave a rough cough. "Not that I am in the market for a wife, you understand. At least not any of them."

  In days gone by, Adam might have made a snide comment just then, but tonight, with his own reputation so sullied, he simply allowed it to pass with a simple nod. After all, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. And part of the reason he was here at Fairhaven was to learn how to be a gentleman again. At least he hoped that he could.

  "I do not remember any of them from my time in Town this Season, so I will take your word for it." Likely Adam didn't remember them because they were proper young women. They hadn't been the sort who would have attracted his attention when he panicked over the proposed wedding to Lady Diana. Nor were they like Miss Banbrook who seemed to enjoy cavorting about like a hussy. After all, these women didn't seem the scandalous sort, present behavior excluded.

  Once more, Rayne pressed his ear to the door and nodded, seemingly satisfied that the group of women had moved on. "They are eager in their quest for a wealthy and titled husband. Unfortunately for them, that cannot be me."

  "Nor me," Adam added, "since they do not hold me in high regard."

  "They will." Rayne cracked open the door a bit. "In time." Then he turned back to Adam. "Your reputation is, thankfully, not completely destroyed. Merely bruised a bit. It - and you - shall recover in time." Then, surprisingly, he grinned. "Just do not cause any more scandal, such as courting a woman whom you know you should avoid or some such nonsense, and I am willing to bet that by the end of this house party, all will be forgiven." Then Rayne was gone, slipping out the door and leaving Adam alone in the darkness.

  For a brief moment, panic seized the duke. How could Rayne know about Abigail? No one else did. Then again, he hadn't mentioned Miss Northrup by name, so perhaps that had merely been an example. Or not?

  Honestly, Adam had no idea but he was beginning to see the wisdom in Abigail's words from earlier in the day. He hadn't necessarily wanted to avoid her or keep his distance. In fact, if anything, he truly wished to get to know her better. However, given his poor judgment as of late in what was and was not appropriate, he wondered if that would be a wise course of action. Or would being seen in her company too often imply that they were courting? And if that was the case, would it damage his reputation even more than it already was?

  Once upon a time, Adam would have known the answers to all of his questions and, had the answers not been to his liking, he simply wouldn't have cared. After all, he was a duke and dukes did not worry over much about silly things like the regard of others.

  But that had been before. When he hadn't considered how his actions might affect Sophia. Or his mother. Or even himself. Now, however, he thought about all of that and more. About why he was here at Fairhaven at all. About how a part of him wanted to regain the good regard of Society, if for no other reason than to find Sophia another suitor and potential husband.

  That time in his life was long past. Adam might still be a duke and he might still be deferred to out of fear. But it would not be out of respect. And he was coming to learn that there was a marked difference between the two. If he wanted to recapture that respect, he would have to walk the straight and narrow. Which likely meant leaving Miss Northrup alone.

  According to Rayne, Adam had already made great strides in that regard. The last thing Adam wanted to do was make his situation worse again. Not when there was a glimmer of hope.

  Still, the idea of not spending time with Miss Northrup did not sit well with him, and Adam began to think that perhaps spending a little time in her company might not be such a bad thing, especially if he could convince her that he was attempting to be viewed as a gentleman once more. Being seen with her might not cause too much gossip and certainly, if he confined his conversations with her to public areas, there could be no scandal.

  It would also make him feel a little more human. A little more like the man he used to be. And he wanted that - very much.

  Yes, Adam decided as the moon continued to rise and bathe the room in its silvery glow, he could have the best of both worlds. So long as he was careful. And he intended to be very, very careful.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, Adam was up with the sun once again, though this time he awoke in the safety and comfort of his own bed. Much to his relief. And much to the relief of Jenkins, his valet, who was only too happy to help Adam with his morning absolutions, grumbling all the while about gentlemen who didn't seem to have their wits about them these days.

  In the past, Adam might have reprimanded Jenkins, but this time, he remained silent and instead allowed the man to finish his work. After all, the valet was correct when he implied that Adam was not precisely in his right mind. However, he hoped to change that - and soon.

  Starting with a brisk walk around Fairhaven's grounds. Where he might, if he was lucky, encounter the delightful Miss Northrup.

  Because his garden goddess had haunted his dreams endlessly the previous night. So much so that sleep had been all but impossible. At least quality sleep. Instead, Adam had dreamed that she was chasing him though a long hallway, even though he was more than willing to be caught. It was peculiar and made absolutely no sense at all, especially as he really didn't know the lady all that well. And it had simply fueled his desire to see her that morning before either of them encountered any of the other house party guests. To find out if she was just as enchanting as he imagined or whether he was once more allowing his imagination to run wild.

  Once out of doors however, Adam found that he had no idea where to look for Miss Northrup. The garden had, of course, been his first choice of location, but to his disappointment, she was not there. Nor was she in the sculpture garden which consisted of a rather motley collection of vaguely human figures, many of which were missing limbs or even heads. Some of them looked like they very well might have been left behind by the Romans themselves, but after a few minutes of looking around, Adam decided this was likely one of the last places Abigail would be. It even made him a bit uneasy.

  Undeterred, he also tried searching for her by the lake where the rowing and swimming contests were to take place in a few days, as well as by the old summerhouse that had clearly fallen into disuse though was still kept up rather nicely. However, it wasn't until Adam made his way to a small grotto on the far side of the lake near what had once clearly been another, and now abandoned, garden that he found the woman who had haunted his dreams all night.

  To his surprise, she was alone, not that he minded overly much. Though he had yet to meet her often-mentioned chaperone Miss Cutwright, he had the distinct impression that he would not care for the woman. Just as she would likely not care for him, either.

  "Good morning, Miss Northrup," Adam managed as smoothly as possible as he came up behind her, not wishing to frighten her, but well aware that her mind was clearly elsewhere.

  "Lord Hathaway!" She gave an abrupt start from the rock where she had been perched and had it not been for Adam's quick movements, she might have tumbled to the ground. Which would have been yet another black mark against him, he was certain.

  Before she could even raise her hands to catch herself, he was there beside her, gathering her into his arms and setting her to rights before she could so much as get a speck of dirt on her dress.

  Shaking his head in disgust with himself, Adam took a step back once he was certain she would not topple over. "Please, my lady. I beg your forgiveness. Again. I did not mean to startle you."

  To his relief,
she laughed and the sound warmed something cold inside of him. Which was odd given how blasted hot it was even at this early hour. "The fault is mine, your grace. Had I not been daydreaming, I would have heard your approach."

  The truth was, the duke had been rather loud, crunching small bushes and twigs as he had approached the grotto, but Abigail had only been partially paying attention to the sounds around her. Instead, she had been sitting on the rock and replaying the events of the previous day back in her mind.

  She had been an utter goose yesterday. She knew that now, especially with some time to reflect on everything from their garden encounter to the rather odd scene in the orangery. The duke obviously did not mean her any harm and was simply attempting to be a gentleman. And she had chastised him as if he was a child, likely making him feel the fool. After all, he had avoided the bowls tournament the previous day when just about every other party guest had been in attendance. She did not think that was mere coincidence. Likely, he had avoided the event because of her and her expressed desire that they keep their distance - something she was no longer certain she wanted.

  Because of her, he was distancing himself from everyone and everything at the house party.

  Not only was it unfair to him, she had admittedly missed his quick wit at dinner the previous night. Though she did not know him well - fine, she hardly knew him at all beyond two rather strange conversations - she knew him well enough to know that, despite everything that had transpired the previous day, she had enjoyed his company. And he had made her laugh. No man had done that in a very long time. Not even her brothers.

  "Yes, well, once more, can we agree that neither of us was likely at our best? If, indeed, we ever are." He graced her with a sinfully handsome grin and Abigail felt her heart flip over in her chest, much to her chagrin. She should not be enchanted by this man, especially not now when she had made the decision not to wed.

  But she was enchanted by him. In fact, she had dreamed of him last night and had awoken in a panic in the dark hours of the morning, attempting to sort out what had been a dream and what had been real. The garden kiss she had dreamed about had been real, of course. The rest unfortunately, including when he had cupped her breast, was just a product of her overactive imagination. Again.

  Abigail now swallowed thickly, knowing a response was required of her. "Very well, your grace." Then, in spite of her best intentions, she offered him a smile of her own. "This is silly, is it not? The repeated apologies? The bumbling around with each other? I feel as if we have just done this."

  She wasn't certain how the duke would take her comment, but Abigail hoped and prayed he would not be offended. She had heard more horror stories about the duke during dinner last night, particularly from Lady Josephine and a few other women Abigail did not know. They were tales of a ferocious and cruel man who lived only to abuse his delicate sister and keep her from the happiness she sought. Ones of a man who all but devoured every innocent young woman he stumbled across and possessed sexual appetites so salacious and deviant, it was a wonder that he was let out into proper Society at all.

  When she had scoffed at the tales, Lady Josephine had sniffed derisively that Abigail had no notion of how men like Lord Hathaway acted since she was not a true lady. The other woman had also informed Abigail rather haughtily that men like the duke were utter beasts, though Josephine had also implied that, if the man was wealthy enough, she would be willing to overlook such faults. Even more especially if his title was high enough. Such as that of a duke.

  Those descriptions did not match in the slightest the man that Abigail had encountered in the garden that morning, but she had made the decision to keep her mouth shut. The last thing she needed was a spat with Lady Josephine over whether or not Lord Hathaway was a decent sort of gentleman or if he truly was the rogue everyone proclaimed him to be.

  Yet for the rest of the night, Abigail had been unable to cease thinking of the man. She wondered if the horrible rumors had reached his ears and, given his quick departure after dinner, decided that they likely had. She wondered if he even cared what the others said about him, though she thought that he must, for what man of good breeding would not? And finally, she wondered why she even cared at all what the duke thought. It was completely perplexing.

  After all, she and the duke had decided to speak to each other only in polite mixed company and never to voluntarily seek each other out. Or rather one of them had decided that. Perhaps it was her. Perhaps it was him. Oh, very well then. It was her. She thought. That morning in the orangery was such a muddle in her mind that Abigail was no longer certain who had said what or why they had agreed to stay apart. If they had even agreed to such a thing at all.

  So for the rest of the evening, Abigail had found herself preoccupied by a man she really had no business thinking of at all. Though strangely, she found that she did not care as much as she likely ought to, though she could not say precisely why that was. And once more, she wondered why, especially when her time in Society was all but at an end, she had suddenly become fascinated with a man she could never even dream of having. And why she should even care either way what he was thinking or doing at that very moment.

  After passing a restless night in her bed, those same thoughts still plagued Abigail and she had decided that a brisk walk around the lake might be just the thing to clear her mind. Though she had, on a whim, detoured through the formal gardens as well. Just to make certain Lord Hathaway wasn't there and in need of her assistance. Not that she really expected he would be, but something made her retrace her steps from the previous morning anyway.

  She had, admittedly, been a bit disappointed when he wasn't there, but once more, Abigail had insisted to herself that she was being silly and had continued on to the lake. Where she had promptly discovered the remains of the old garden, the grotto, and the rather large rock that had seemed the perfect place to perch and watch the sun rise. Until she lost track of time of course, which was how Lord Hathaway had come to find her daydreaming and utterly oblivious to everything else around her.

  "It is silly, this constant apologizing," Lord Hathaway agreed, breaking into her thoughts once more. "We are dancing around each other and acting as skittish as two new colts. Though we do not really know one another, we have...er...kissed. And been alone together. Perhaps avoiding each other is not as easy either of us assumed?" He did not appear put out as he said this and for a moment, something warm bloomed inside Abigail's chest, though she did her best to dismiss it as yet another flight of fancy.

  "Perhaps not," she agreed as she attempted to gather her wits. "So perhaps we might speak after all. When we meet in public of course. Or...elsewhere."

  The duke cleared his throat. "And I promise that I will not attempt to ravish you each time I see you. As you said yesterday, we are both adults and that kiss was hardly a declaration of love. I am a gentleman, after all, and I do not ravish young ladies without their consent. Even in public. No matter what is said of me otherwise." The kiss had, however, scrambled his brain rather effectively. And it had led to a seemingly endless night where this woman had occupied his thoughts rather a lot. Not that he would mention such things to her. He truly was attempting to restore his reputation as a gentleman, after all.

  Not to mention that he had heard snippets of the stories that Lady Josephine had been spinning about him the previous night, likely in hopes of eliminating anyone she viewed as competition in her quest to become a duchess. He needed to make certain that Abigail didn't believe one word of them.

  To his relief, Abigail laughed at his last comment. "That is good to know, Lord Hathaway. I am ever so reassured by this news. As will my chaperone, Miss Cutwright, if she ever recovers from wrenching her knee yesterday morning on the way down to breakfast. Not that I believe you will see much of her anyway, as she has apparently decided that she rather likes to be waited on by Lord Enwright's highly trained staff."

  In the morning sun, Abigail's eyes sparkled like the most brilliant topaz he
had ever seen and once more, Adam felt a curious tugging in his gut. It was so curious that he almost missed what she said next. "So. Shall we once more start over?" She offered him a smile so dazzling that it put the sun to shame and for a moment, she was all he could see. "And maybe this time, behave as two adults ought and not avoid each other like petulant children who cannot be trusted?"

  "I should like that, my lady. Very much so." It was all he could do not to trip all over his tongue like a callow schoolboy, but somehow Adam managed to deport himself with some level of the decorum he had been noted for in the time before he had so publicly tossed aside Lady Diana. He was rather proud of himself for that. He was also proud of himself that this time, rather than skulking off as he had in the orangery, he instead offered Abigail his arm. Like a proper gentleman ought.

  For a moment, Abigail thought Lord Hathaway meant to say more but when he didn't, she took his arm silently and allowed him to lead her around the far edge of the lake. Normally, she abhorred quiet, but this morning, it seemed appropriate somehow. By this time, she had missed the sunrise and the early heat of the day was already starting to shimmer in waves along the ground. It was likely to be another unbearably hot day, and she wondered if anyone would take a swoon playing battledore that afternoon as they had planned. Lady Jane McKettrick, whose father was a Scottish marquess, had taken faint the previous day during bowls and had been forced to retire to her rooms for the remainder of the day.

  "Are you taking part in the battledore tournament later today?" the duke finally asked as they strolled along the far curve of the lake and slowly began making their way back to the near shore and the secluded path that led back to Fairhaven. It was as if he had somehow read her mind.