The Ton's Most Notorious Rake

by Sarah Mallory

She finished her tea and put the cup down on the little table Agnes had thoughtfully placed within easy reach. The party was now seated around the room and cheerful conversation flew back and forth. She was grateful for their efforts to include her, but she felt very tired and her ankle was throbbing most painfully. The clock chimed midnight, but no one seemed in the least inclined to bring the evening to an end. Molly was just wondering if she could attract her hostess’s attention and ask for help to retire, when the beau rose from his chair.

  ‘I fear we have fatigued Mrs Morgan with our chatter.’

  ‘Goodness, yes,’ exclaimed Agnes. ‘You are looking very pale, ma’am. How thoughtless of me not to notice sooner. We must get you to your room.’

  ‘Allow me.’ Before Molly had realised his intention, he had lifted her into his arms, the silk shawl still wrapped around her skirts. He said, ‘Perhaps, Agnes, you would have someone light our way with a candle?’

  ‘Really, there is no need,’ Molly protested, but with no conviction at all.

  ‘Do not fret, Mrs Morgan,’ said Sir Gerald, opening the door for them, ‘You are perfectly safe and you must not deny Russ the chance to show how chivalrous he can be!’

  He called to a hovering footman to precede them up the stairs, bade Molly a cheerful goodnight and shut the door on them. Molly swallowed, uncomfortable with the silence.

  ‘I am sorry to give you so much trouble, sir.’

  ‘Think nothing of it, ma’am.’

  He paused on the stairs to shift her more comfortably in his arms and she slipped one hand around his neck, her head dropping against his shoulder. Suddenly she felt too tired to fight. When they reached the guest room they found a maid dozing in a chair. She jumped up as they came in.

  ‘Miss Agnes has instructed me to wait on you, ma’am. I’m to fetch you anything you need.’

  ‘First, light the rest of the candles,’ the beau ordered. ‘I need to see what damage Mrs Morgan has done.’

  He put Molly down upon the daybed and pulled the shawl away. For the sake of propriety she had managed to put on silk stockings and a pair of lilac satin slippers, but although she had fastened the left shoe very loosely about her ankle, the bruised flesh was already pushing against the ties.

  ‘Go and fetch more ice,’ he commanded the maid. ‘Immediately.’

  He sank to his knees beside the sofa and began to loosen the ribbons.

  ‘I really thought it would do no harm,’ she murmured, watching him. ‘I made sure I did not put my full weight upon it.’

  ‘No, you merely hobbled along the corridor and down a full flight of stairs.’ She gave a little gasp as his fingers touched her skin and he said quickly, ‘Forgive me. Did I hurt you?’

  ‘No more than I deserve,’ she said contritely. ‘You must think me very foolish.’

  ‘Yes,’ he retorted. ‘And obstinate. You should never have walked downstairs. Risking your health to avoid me. The utmost folly.’

  Gently but quickly he removed both her shoes and dropped them on the floor. Molly held her breath as he pushed her skirts above the knee and began to unfasten the garter. Then his hands stilled.

  ‘I beg your pardon, I—’

  ‘No, no, go on.’ Her voice was little more than a croak and she tried to clear her throat of whatever was blocking it. ‘The...the stocking needs to be removed for you to examine my ankle.’

  ‘Yes.’ He was staring at her leg, his voice devoid of all emotion. ‘Of course.’

  Molly sat very still, clutching the sides of the daybed as he dropped the garter on the floor and reached for the stocking top. The throb of her ankle was eclipsed now by her racing pulse. Her heart banged painfully and erratically against her ribs as his fingers brushed her skin. No man had touched any part of her leg since...

  She blocked out the thought. She would not succumb to the fear and panic that came with those memories. She would not.

  Molly sank her teeth into her lip and forced herself to watch as he began to roll the silk over her knee. Her fear was subsiding, replaced by the thought that no man had touched her with such tenderness. Ever.

  Not even the love of her life. The man who had sworn to love her until death.

  Her hands slid protectively over her stomach, but her thoughts could not be distracted from the man beside her. She looked at his dark head, studied the handsome profile while his long fingers moved gently down her leg and another emotion began to grow inside her. A warmth, a yearning that tugged at her loins. He had reached her ankle. Molly sucked in a breath, anticipating pain, but he stretched the stocking wide before easing it with infinite care over the swollen joint.

  ‘There.’

  His eyes were fixed on her foot as he dropped the stocking on the floor and she noted that his breathing was ragged and uneven.

  ‘Should you not remove the other stocking, too?’ She was shocked to hear herself suggest it. ‘That you may better compare the ankles,’ she ended lamely.

  ‘No, no need for that. It is quite clear where the damage lies.’ He pulled the skirts more decorously over her legs and gave an impatient huff. ‘Where is that girl with the ice?’

  ‘I doubt there was any in the house at this late hour,’ said Molly, desperate to keep talking. ‘They will have had to go to the ice house and that could be some distance away, most likely in the park. It is most likely locked, too—’

  ‘Stop it, for heaven’s sake!’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You are prattling because you are afraid of me. You have no reason to be nervous, Mrs Morgan. I assure you. I have no designs upon your virtue.’

  ‘No. Of...of course not.’

  ‘Respectable widows are not my type.’

  Molly flinched. ‘You make that sound like an insult.’

  ‘It was intended merely as the truth. I thought it might set your mind at rest to know that I do not seduce every woman I meet.’

  ‘It does. Thank you.’

  The door burst open and the maid hurried in.

  ‘Here you are, sir, another bucket of ice. An’ I beg your pardon for taking so long, sir, but we had to send out to the ice house for it.’

  Just for an instant the beau’s eyes met Molly’s, a glinting smile in their black depths.

  ‘That is what we thought,’ he said gravely. ‘Come along then, girl, bring it here.’

  * * *

  Ten minutes later Molly’s ankle was once more soothed by an ice pack. The beau gave instructions to the maid before turning back to Molly.

  ‘Under no circumstances are you to put your foot to the floor again tonight, madam. Do you understand me? The maid will help you with everything and now you have both seen what I have done, you can pack it with fresh ice in the morning, if the swelling has not reduced. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Then I will bid you goodnight.’

  ‘Mr Russington!’ Molly held her hand out to him. He took it, his brows raising a little. ‘You are wrong, sir,’ she said. ‘You are wrong to think my evasive actions are aimed solely at you. I have learned to be wary of all gentlemen.’

  He stood, looking down at her for a moment, his face unreadable, then with an almost imperceptible nod, he went out.

  * * *

  Russ closed the door of the guest room and walked slowly to his own chamber. He was not sure he believed Molly Morgan wanted to keep all men at bay. She had seemed happy enough during that first dance, but Gerald was the host and it would have been difficult for her to decline. A wry smile twisted his lips. If he doubted her veracity, might she not doubt his, when he claimed he had no designs upon her virtue? And with good reason.

  Twice he had carried her in his arms, and he was well aware that beneath the layers of demure clothing, her body was slim but well formed. Yet it was peeling off the stocking that had confoun
ded him. He had started innocently enough, concerned only that she might have done more damage to her ankle, but rolling the silk down her leg and revealing the soft skin beneath had been strangely arousing. For a brief moment his imagination had run with the idea of undressing her for his own pleasure.

  The thought had been fleeting, but the widow had noticed it. She had been tense, almost shaking and he cursed himself for frightening her. He had made it even worse by allowing his anger to show.

  He frowned. The dashed woman brought out the worst in him. Over the years he had learned to keep his true thoughts and feelings hidden beneath a cool, polished exterior and created Beau Russington, the epitome of the fashionable gentleman. He was a friend of Brummell, a noted Corinthian. The men sought his company while the ladies sought his bed. He had heard himself described as society’s darling, charming to a fault and renowned for his good humour.

  So what was there about the little widow that unsettled him? Surely he was not so conceited as to be put out because she did not like him?

  ‘Bah, it is of no consequence,’ he muttered aloud. ‘Tomorrow she will be gone from here and after that, if our paths should cross, we need spare each other no more than a nod in passing.’

  His words were swallowed by the gloomy corridor, but the creak of boards as he reached his bedchamber echoed through the darkness like a laugh.

  Chapter Four

  By the next morning Molly’s ankle was showing great signs of improvement. The swelling was much reduced and, although she took breakfast in her room, she was later able to go downstairs with the aid of a stick. This had been thoughtfully provided by Lady Claydon, who assured Molly that her husband always brought a spare with him.

  The gentlemen had gone out, but she found the ladies gathered in the morning room. They all bustled around Molly, Agnes’s companion, Mrs Molyneux, insisting she should have the most comfortable seat and the Misses Claydon bringing over a footstool for her use and asking what they might do for her entertainment. She had barely made herself comfortable when the butler announced that her brother had arrived.

  Edwin hurried in, looking flustered. In one breath he thanked Agnes for looking after his sister, enquired what had happened and apologised for not coming earlier. He turned to Molly to explain.

  ‘I stayed in Compton Magna last night and did not receive your message until breakfast.’

  ‘Then you saved yourself a night’s unnecessary worry,’ Agnes told him, smiling. ‘You may see for yourself that Molly is recovering well.’

  Edwin moved across to kiss Molly’s cheek.

  ‘What can I say? If only I had come with you to Raikes Farm.’

  ‘You must not blame yourself because I was foolish enough to slip,’ she told him, grasping his hand. ‘A few more days’ rest and I shall be as good as ever.’

  ‘I hope you do not intend to rush off,’ said Agnes, moving towards the bell pull. ‘Gerald and the other gentlemen have ridden to Knaresborough to look at the castle ruins there. They will be gone all day so your company would be most welcome, Mr Frayne, and we are about to sustain ourselves with cake and a little wine.’

  Lady Claydon spoke up immediately to agree and her daughters added their voices to the request that he should stay. Edwin looked at Molly.

  ‘Well, sister, what do you say? Are you desperate to go home this minute?’

  Molly shook her head and disclaimed. After everyone’s kindness, how could she say she wanted to quit Newlands before the gentlemen returned? Especially when it was clear that Edwin would like to stay for a while. Besides, it was still early. The gentlemen would not be returning for hours yet. She sank back in her chair, content to let her brother enjoy himself.

  She was very proud of Edwin and thought him ideally suited to his calling. Mr and Mrs Frayne had marked their son out for the church from an early age, but Edwin had inherited none of their father’s harsh and intolerant religious fervour. He was honest and thoughtful, unfailingly kind and cheerful and at ease in any society, as she was now witnessing. The conversation was lively and entertaining, the wine and cakes brought in for their delectation could not have been bettered and the hours slipped by, until Molly heard the clock chime and gave a little gasp.

  ‘Oh, heavens, Edwin. The time!’

  ‘Goodness, is it four o’clock already? I had no idea. Perhaps, Miss Kilburn, you would summon my carriage. I should be getting Molly home.’

  ‘Certainly, sir, but...’ Agnes hesitated. ‘Perhaps I might suggest Mrs Morgan should remain here another night? We should be delighted to have her stay.’

  ‘Oh, no, I could not possibly trouble you any further,’ said Molly. ‘And it is no distance, we shall be home in no time.’

  Agnes looked unconvinced. ‘But the upset, Molly. After resting your ankle all day, are you sure you should be jarring and jolting it over these rough roads? I believe another night here would be most beneficial for you.’

  Molly was about to insist that they leave when they were interrupted by the entrance of their host, which immediately caused a distraction.

  ‘Gerald! I had not expected to see you for an hour or more yet. Is everyone back already?’

  Agnes jumped up from her seat, but her brother waved her back. He was smiling and flushed from the fresh air, although Molly thought he looked a little distracted as he made his reply.

  ‘No, no, they have all gone to Knaresborough, as planned, but my horse cast a shoe before we had gone ten miles, so I turned back.’

  ‘And you are only now come in?’ Edwin glanced at the clock. ‘I trust you did not get lost.’

  ‘Oh, no, nothing like that. I left my horse at the smithy and took the opportunity to explore a little. And as you can see—’ he grinned, glancing down at himself ‘—I did not come in here until I had washed and changed out of all my dirt.’

  He turned to Molly to enquire after her health and then joined his sister in pressing her to remain another night.

  ‘And Frayne can stay for dinner, if he wishes,’ he declared, turning his cheerful smile upon Edwin. ‘I am not expecting the others to return until the dinner hour, so we have already agreed we shall not stand upon ceremony tonight, which means it will be perfectly acceptable for you to sit down to dinner as you are. And there is a full moon, too, Edwin, so you could safely drive home afterwards. And tomorrow, I will bring Mrs Morgan back to you in the barouche.’

  ‘No, no.’ Molly was suddenly alarmed. ‘That is too kind of you, Sir Gerald, but we really must go.’

  Agnes shook her head. ‘I assure you it would be no imposition. After all, the guest room is already set up for you, so an extra night would make very little difference to us, but it could mean your ankle will heal all the sooner.’

  ‘Do you know, I think you may be right, Miss Kilburn,’ said Edwin. ‘And, Molly, perhaps you will be more inclined to remain when I tell you that your maid is not yet returned. She sent word that her mother is no better, so I gave her permission to remain with her another night.’

  ‘Oh, poor Cissy. Of course, she must stay,’ Molly agreed, her own worries forgotten.

  ‘All the more reason for you to remain here, then,’ Sir Gerald declared triumphantly.

  Molly knew it would be churlish to argue and, when Edwin looked at her, she nodded her assent.

  ‘Capital,’ cried Edwin. ‘I can only thank you most sincerely, Miss Kilburn, for your kindness towards my sister.’

  Edwin was beaming broadly and Molly saw that Agnes, too, was smiling and there was a telltale flush blossoming upon her cheek.

  Oh, good heavens.

  Molly sank back in her chair and lapsed into silence. Not since his schooldays had Edwin shown such a strong preference for any young lady, so why now? And why had his interest fixed upon Agnes Kilburn of all people?

  She was immediately ashamed of her uncharitable thoughts. She would be very
happy for Edwin to fall in love and settle down. She must not let her selfish concerns get in the way if he and Agnes truly liked one another. But to remain at Newlands tonight, to be in the company of Beau Russington for another evening, how would she endure it? His presence unsettled her. She could not forget how easily he had carried her, how secure she had felt in his arms. When he was in the room her eyes wanted to follow him and if he looked at her she felt the heat rising through her body. It was not to be borne. She did not even like the man.

  Oh, do not be so foolish, she told herself crossly. He has told you that he has no amorous intentions towards you.

  Which should have put her at her ease, but instead made her feel very slightly aggrieved and a little unsure of her instincts, because last night, when he had removed her stocking, she had been so sure that he, too, had felt something.

  Like a conceited schoolroom miss! And do not forget you have been wrong about a man before.

  Molly shifted uncomfortably at the thought, which immediately brought attention back to her. Mrs Molyneux asked if her ankle was hurting and the eldest Miss Claydon offered to bring another cushion to place beneath her foot. She was at pains to reassure them, but she could barely bring herself to smile when Edwin came to sit beside her and murmured that he thought she was very wise to remain at Newlands until tomorrow.

  * * *

  It was not long until the gentlemen came back from their sport. They greeted Edwin with unfeigned bonhomie and were delighted that he was joining them for dinner. When Agnes announced that Molly was staying for a second night, they all agreed it was a wise precaution and appeared quite content with the decision. All except Mr Russington. Molly saw a shadow flicker across his countenance. It might have been dissatisfaction, but she thought it looked more like alarm. It was gone in an instant, but it raised her spirits. Perhaps he was not quite so indifferent to her, after all.

  And, strangely, the fact that the thought pleased her shocked Molly most of all.

  * * *

  Dinner was an informal affair. Agnes offered to have a tray sent into the drawing room for Molly, but she insisted that she was well enough to join them, if Edwin would give her his arm. She was given a seat between Mr Sykes and Lord Claydon and nothing could have exceeded their kindness. The conversation ebbed and flowed, it was lively, but there was no hint of impropriety, and later, in the drawing room, there was nothing in the least alarming about the way the party entertained themselves.