The Kiss of a Rogue

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  De La Croix's lips twisted and in that moment, Abigail realized how vulnerable she was at that moment. After she had accidentally struck Lady Sophia, Abigail had retreated to the shade of a small copse of trees. While she was still out in the open, with everyone's attention focused on Sophia, no one was really paying attention to her. Other than the count. And suddenly, Abigail wondered if he meant to drag her off some place so that he could compromise her. She doubted it, for she could always scream and bring someone running to her aid. However, desperate men were capable of desperate things, and Abigail knew that De La Croix was just bordering on true desperation. This was yet one more reason she wished to retreat from Society. She honestly had no idea whom she could trust. Especially among the peerage.

  "And yet, here we are in the shade, where it would be possible for me to steal a kiss or two if I was so inclined." The man was clearly attempting to ooze charm, but Abigail found him oily and disgusting rather than charming and appealing. "Perhaps you are not as safe at Fairhaven as you would like to believe, my dear."

  "I shall scream if you touch me," Abigail retorted, her eyes narrowed. Then she remembered the battledore racket that was still in her hands. She was not defenseless after all. "Do not force me to strike you, Comte," she threatened as forcefully she could. "For I will, if only to defend myself. Do not doubt me."

  For a long moment, she thought that the comte might press the issue, but then he backed away slowly, as if realizing that he might have underestimated her. And her will to avoid falling into whatever trap he had set for her. "Here now, Miss Northrup. There is no call for violence."

  "If you so much as touch one hair on her head, there will be violence. And yet more bloodshed."

  Abigail hadn't even heard or seen Adam approach. Instead, she had been too busy attempting to defend herself from De La Croix. However, she was extremely thankful for his appearance. She could defend herself well enough, and she hadn't been in any real danger. At least not at the moment. But the other man's words implied that she could be - if she let her guard down.

  "Hathaway." De La Croix's eyes flashed silver fire as Abigail felt rather than saw Adam come to stand behind her. If nothing else, she felt the heat of him, which was like a fire at her back. "I didn't know you had an interest in the chit. You didn't mention it at breakfast yesterday when we were discussing such matters."

  "I am always interested in the safety and reputation of a lady," the duke tossed back easily. It was clear to Abigail that Adam was not frightened of the count in the least. Though she had the impression that the count should be afraid of Adam. "At heart, I am a gentleman, De La Croix. Until I am forced not to be. Best remember that."

  The Frenchman eyed his rival carefully. "As you like. But I would not leave the lady alone for long were I you. She is a rather tasty prize for the right sort of man."

  Adam reached out as if to strike at the other man, but Abigail's small hand on the duke's arm held him back. "He is not worth the risk, your grace."

  "You are correct. He is not." Adam sniffed disdainfully. "Be gone, De La Croix. While I was attending to my sister just now, she told me all about you and how you attempted to corner her alone in the library this morning. Something about an injury makes a lady turn to her family for comfort no mater what, I suppose. Whatever the reason, however, I am aware of your tricks and, with Sophia at least, they shall not succeed. Now I find you bothering another female guest. I do not like that over much."

  "I was unaware you were in a position to defend anyone," the other man sniped back at Adam. "After all, it is not as if you have a sterling reputation any longer. I'm sure that one word from me to the Bloody Duke and you would disappear forever."

  A cough behind De La Croix caught his attention just then. "You would be surprised at whom the Bloody Duke calls a friend these days. And whom he does not." Abigail had watched Lord Raynecourt approach the little group but when Adam had made no move to give the other man's presence away, neither had she.

  "Lord Raynecourt," De La Croix all but squeaked. "I had no idea you were still here. I thought you were traveling on to another house party with Mr. Greer."

  Abigail wasn't surprised when Rayne smiled rather cheekily. If anything bothered him, he never showed it. "All in good time, my friend. All in good time." Though his words were cheery, a dark shadow passed across Rayne's face and for a moment, Abigail wondered what secrets this man hid from the world. Then, the shadow was gone and she knew that it was not her concern. "Both Mr. Greer and I have decided to stay on for a few more days. Loose ends to tie up and that sort of thing. Besides, I am not needed elsewhere until the end of next week, so why not stay and enjoy myself?" The earl's smile now did not reach his eyes and, in fact, seemed more of a warning than anything else.

  For some reason, this news seemed to unsettle the comte and he mumbled his excuses before shuffling away rather quickly. It was obvious he wished to avoid a confrontation and Abigail could not blame him.

  "The man is an enigma, drat him," Rayne sighed as he watched De La Croix scurry across the lawn, not bothering to hold his tongue in front of Abigail, even though she was female. Either she was not worthy of worrying about or the earl was attempting to make certain she understood the gravity of the situation. She thought it might be the latter. "One minute he acts as noble as any regent and the next he is propositioning reputable young ladies in the shrubbery. It is maddening not to be able to get a handle on him. Or do something about him. Were it up to me, he would be on a boat back to France even now."

  "He requires funds, and sooner rather than later," Adam replied quietly. "Like Lord Selby, he has racked up some gambling debts as of late. Extensive ones that few think him able to repay." The annoying French count was actually how Adam had discovered Selby's own financial difficulties. De La Croix had been bragging about his losses a little over a sennight ago, saying that for as much as he had lost at Noroc, a combination brothel and gaming hell that several members of the ton were thought to have a financial interest in, Lord Selby had lost even more.

  That and that alone had sent Adam directly to the door of the Bloody Duke for assistance. The man had been about to embark upon his honeymoon with his new bride, Eliza, and while he wasn't much interested in a long chat, Candlewood - who did in fact own a rather large portion of Noroc - did confirm for Adam that both De La Croix and Selby had suffered heavy losses at the gaming hell. Enough so that there was a healthy amount of doubt about either man's ability to pay their respective debts.

  It was also when the Bloody Duke had suggested to Adam that perhaps Sophia did not make the wisest choice in potential husbands. He had also implied that if Adam took steps to ensure her safety, the censure he would endure in the short term would produce long-term benefits. It was one of the many reasons why Adam had insisted upon breaking Sophia's betrothal. If the Blood Duke thought that something was a bad idea, then it generally was.

  "Interesting," Rayne commented almost lazily, though Abigail didn't miss the sharp mind hidden beneath the droll tone or the lazy words. "I was unaware of that, but it does explain much. I suppose I shall have to make a note of it." Then his gaze sharpened and he eyed the duke critically. "Why don't you reveal what you know to the others, Hathaway? You could, you know. Not only would it ensure that both De La Croix and Selby are watched more closely, but it would also raise your own stock quite a bit more in their eyes."

  Adam shook his head. "That is not my way. I have made mistakes and I must correct them. Taking advantage of another's misfortune to help save myself is not in my nature." He cleared his throat. "At least it is not any longer."

  A look of appreciation crossed Rayne's face. "Fascinating. Truly. I believe Candlewood will be glad to know this information." Then the earl turned to offer Abigail a bow. "My lady. Now that you are safe and in good hands, I shall depart. There are a few things I must do before I leave in a day or so. Nasty business, but necessary. Wouldn't do to tarry." And with that, he was gone, leaving Adam and Abigail to w
atch his back as he retreated across the lawn.

  When he was gone, Abigail turned back to Adam, utterly confused. "I thought that Lord Candlewood was the spy. Am I mistaken?" She certainly could be, for she was hardly an expert on the upper reaches of Society.

  Adam shook his head. "No, you are not wrong. However, both Lord Raynecourt and Lord Chillton, how shall I say this, do 'work' for the Bloody Duke from time to time. I am not privy as to how or why or when, you understand. I merely know that they do." He made certain to emphasize the word work. "I also believe that both Rayne and Mr. Greer, who is of Bow Street in case you were unaware, were sent here to spy."

  "On you?" Despite everything that she knew about Adam, Abigail thought that was taking things a bit far. Especially since he wasn't truly horrid or a danger to anyone. Certainly not like De La Croix was. Or Lord Selby.

  He nodded. "At first I believed so." When she went to protest, he held up his hand to stop her words. "I think you greatly underestimate exactly how poorly I am viewed by much of Society, Abigail. I am all but an outcast."

  Abigail considered that for a moment. "And now?" she prodded gently. "Surely you cannot think the same now. After all, Lord Raynecourt confided in you just now."

  "Now I think that both men are here to spy on De La Croix and Selby." Actually, Adam had begun to suspect something of that nature earlier during the battledore tournament when neither Greer nor Rayne could take their eyes from the other two men. Especially when everyone else present had their gazes fixed upon the women. "Make no mistake. I believe they are keeping tabs on me as well. After all, Lord Hallstone, who just whisked Lady Diana, my former betrothed, off to be wed is a good friend of Candlewood's these days. And I am far from their favorite person. In fact, I was barred from several homes just before the season ended."

  "What utter clap-trap!" Abigail slapped her hand over her mouth before she said anything else, horrified that she had uttered such foul language. "Oh, dear. I am so sorry, your grace. I did not mean to say that."

  However, Adam could only smile at Abigail's sudden outburst in his defense. "Yes, you did. And I appreciate you all the more for it." Then he cleared his throat, not wishing to reveal too much of himself to his woman. She could hurt him if he was not careful. "But enough about me."

  Abigail almost winced at her thoughtlessness, but it was yet another symptom of how thoroughly this man scrambled her brain. "Yes. Yes, of course. You surely must be concerned about Sophia. Is she well?" The last thing Abigail wanted was to have broken the other woman's nose. That would be an insult just about above all else, even if it had not been purely an accident.

  Adam made a dismissive noise. "My sister is fine. Think no more of it. A little blood and a lot of fawning over her by various eligible men and she will be right as rain in no time. One thing you will soon learn about Sophia is that she is far tougher than she appears at first. And a bit more of a drama queen at times, as well. Truly, she was born for the stage."

  "Still, I am sorry." Abigail truly was. "I was merely distracted during the game and I am afraid that I did not aim my shots as well as I might have otherwise. Had I been fully concentrating on the game, that is."

  "No one could tell you were distracted," Adam assured her. "I certainly couldn't and I know others could not either. To me, it simply looked as if you were concentrating a bit too hard." He paused. "If you do not mind me asking, what distracted you?"

  You, she wanted to say. You and your fine manners and your insistence upon treating me like a lady when I am not and never will be. In paying attention to me when no other man ever has and making my head swim with dreams that I cannot ever hope to claim as my own. You are the reason I was so utterly distracted. And only you.

  Instead, she didn't say any of that. Instead, she waved a hand in the direction of the manor house. "I was worried about Miss Cutwright and this house party and my decision to leave Society. About my mother who is ill and returned to Plymouth a few months ago. About my father and whether or not he will support my decision to retreat to Wales. Any number of things, really. That was part of the reason I was out by the lake this morning. I simply wished for time to think."

  Abigail had not meant to reveal so much of herself to Adam, but she also did not wish for him to know that he occupied so much of her thoughts. It was better to reveal her fears regarding her family than for him to know how much she was thinking of him.

  "During which time, I disturbed you." Adam should have known she was not out there to moon about over him, no matter how he wished otherwise. "I am sorry for that. And then I pushed you to take on my sister in battledore. So if anyone is at fault for the incident, it is I. And I shall inform her of such, should she behave in a less than appropriate manner towards you."

  Gulping, Abigail put her hand on Adam's arm and then quickly snatched it back again before someone saw the intimate caress. They were hardly alone, the crowd from the battledore game only a bit of a distance away. What if someone saw them? They might think she had designs on the duke or some other nonsense, and then where would she be?

  "Please, don't," she whispered. "I am sorry and I shall apologize to your sister as soon as possible. I do not wish for you to interfere. Not only might someone take that the wrong way, but I do not wish for your relationship with your sister to be any worse than it already is."

  "That," Adam scoffed, "is not possible. I do not think you truly appreciate how enamored Sophia is with Selby or how much she utterly adores him, likely to distraction. And while I am certain her adoration and love for him is real enough, I do not know if he feels the same. I gave in to her demands last month and approved the betrothal only because I felt that I had no choice. It was not because I approved of the match, which she well knows and conveniently chooses to forget. She simply forced the issue the only way she knew how. By playing upon my fears and concerns for her. So no, do not worry about my relationship with Sophia. It will be repaired or not, no matter what you do."

  In that moment, Abigail's heart broke for him. "That is so very depressing. To think that you might never mend fences is unthinkable to me. Especially since my brothers and I get along so well. We have had disagreements, of course, but never like that."

  "Neither have we, at least not before this," Adam replied, glancing back over his shoulder to where Sophia was still surrounded by well-wishers and at least two men that he knew to be physicians, including Dr. Hastings. "And if you wish to apologize to her, I will not stop you. For your own sake, of course, and not for hers or for mine. Despite the way she is carrying on, I can assure you that we will both be fine. This will only make her more attractive to those men who wish to rescue her from her despicable brother."

  Once more, Abigail understood Adam's reasoning, and decided that, for the moment anyway, she would leave well enough alone. Though she would apologize to the woman. Later. In private. "Very well. I shall do as you request."

  Unsurprisingly, Adam grinned at her and she had the feeling he was rather used to getting his way. She would have to be careful that he didn't think her too agreeable. Unlike most of the Society women he knew, Abigail did have a brain and she was not afraid to use it. Even if that was the unpopular course of action. "Well, then, might I request one more thing?"

  He looked so charming in that moment that Abigail felt resolve immediately begin to weaken and she knew that she would likely do whatever he asked of her. "And what is that?"

  "Would you be so kind as to accompany me to dinner this evening?" Once more he graced her with that magnificent smile. "As you might remember, I have very few friends. And also, I do not really wish for you to be deluged with additional horror stories about me and my unsavory behavior."

  Abigail wanted to protest. She wanted to remind him that, if Lord Raynecourt was to be believed, all Adam had to do was speak out against Lord Selby again, reveal the truth of the other man's debts, and he would likely have many friends again. She also wanted to point out that, as a duke, by next Season, all of this would be f
orgotten as just a distant and unpleasant memory.

  Yet she did none of those things. Instead she nodded in agreement, silently cursing herself as she did so for being so utterly weak where one Lord Adam Reynolds was concerned. "If it is open seating tonight, your grace, then yes, I shall be honored to dine with you."

  However when he smiled at her again, once more indicating that he was utterly used to getting his own way, Abigail felt a flutter in her stomach again, and this time, it wasn't pleasant. She would have to be extremely careful, for she didn't want to fall too far under this man's spell, no matter how charming he was. For if she did, that could lead her down the path to ruin, and destroy her plans for a pleasant, quiet and respectable future.

  Chapter Seven

  To Adam's annoyance, dinner that night was not open seating. In fact, given the way Lady Enwright was watching him as if he might try to ravish someone before the soup course, the duke suspected that he was deliberately being kept apart from Abigail, though he could not for the life of him determine why. Thus far, other than that kiss in the garden that no one knew about, he had been the model of propriety. That first night when he had beaten Selby at billiards excluded, of course.

  Perhaps it was because he looked in Abigail's direction a bit too often. Or perhaps it was because he had been seen speaking with her earlier that day, directly after the battledore match, instead of fawning over his sister as most of the other houseguests had. Or perhaps it was simply because the duchess did not trust him to behave himself. Sadly, she would not be the first Society hostess to feel thus.

  But that was the old Adam. He was a changed man now, or he wanted to believe that he was, largely because of the disagreement with his sister and his utter shunning by the majority of Society. Or, if he was not changed, precisely, then he was trying to be a better man and redeem himself in the eyes of his friends and associates. Not that he could say such a thing of course. It was ungentlemanly to even hint at such things. Which was why he was putting such a great store in actions at the moment.