Taming the Rake

by Monica McCarty

  Humiliated, a searing pain twisting in her chest, Gina raced from the room as if the devil were nipping at her heels. Tears blurred her vision. She hated that he’d seen her cry. But she’d felt so uncertain, so vulnerable after what he’d done to her, her emotions had bubbled right to the surface.

  The most wondrous, intimate moment of her life had been shattered in an instant by the cold lash of his vile tongue. How could a man that had kissed her with such passion one minute treat her so cruelly the next?

  She should never have come looking for him. But she hadn’t been able to eat when she’d noticed he wasn’t at supper. She’d felt ill wondering whether he was with that strumpet Lady Darby, who’d practically thrown herself at him the moment they entered the ballroom.

  And now look what Gina had done, what she’d allowed him to do. She was no better than Lady Darby. He’d touched her in the most intimate of places and made her fall apart in his arms, ready to gift him with her maidenhead. After fortune and connections, it was the only thing men seemed to value in a wife.

  The horror of the situation suddenly caught up with her, how perilously close she’d come to ruin. Panicked, nausea tossed in her stomach. She raced to the powder room. Her hand went to her mouth, still bruised and swollen from his kisses. Bile rose in her throat.

  She made it just in time.

  When she’d finished, Gina took a seat on a nearby stool. The bitter irony of the situation was not lost on her. If anyone came searching for her, she wouldn’t need to feign illness.

  Bowing her head in her hands, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her tumultuous insides. What was she going to do? She wanted him, and it had nothing to do with a bet. He’d kissed her, touched her, and opened up an entire new world to her. A world of passion. And now that she’d found it, she feared that she wouldn’t be able to relinquish it so easily.

  Was it always like that for a man and a woman? She didn’t think so; she’d been kissed before and felt nothing compared to what she’d felt tonight.

  Had it truly only been a game to him?

  The pain in her chest tightened.

  Gina didn’t want to believe he could be so unfeeling. She had a nagging suspicion that there was something very wrong about the scene that had just occurred. She’d seen the expression in his eyes when he’d touched her. It hadn’t only been desire, there was more. His expression was almost reverent. Adoring. He looked as if he truly cared for her.

  She shook her head. She was a fool. He’d made his feelings plain enough. Wasn’t he merely living up to his reputation as a heartless rake, a debaucher of innocents?

  She popped upright on the stool.

  But if that were true, why hadn’t he taken her virginity? His words, crude though they were, were not false. She had offered, and he had refused. What had stopped him from taking what she knew he wanted?

  Could it be that there was a thin streak of honor in him after all? Did he care for her, or was he really as unfeeling as he wanted her to think he was?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “You’re sure nothing happened in Newmarket?” Cecelia’s dark brows formed a delicate “v” over her tiny nose. “You haven’t been quite yourself since your return. You seem distressed about something.”

  Gina’s cheeks heated, though she tried not to let it show. “I wish there was more to tell, but I’ve relayed everything of importance.” Well, mostly everything. There were some details that were too intimate, even for best friends. Besides, Gina was embarrassed to have so easily fallen prey to the well-known wiles of a notorious rake like Coventry. Her friends would be shocked. In truth, she didn’t quite believe it herself.

  Gina forced her thoughts away from what had occurred in the card room. She’d been back in London for nearly a week, and she’d thought about what he’d done to her far more often than she wanted to admit. It had been amazing. Until he’d ruined it.

  Gina hadn’t seen him since she’d left Greenbrook on Saturday. Their arrival in London on Monday had been greeted by the shocking news of Prime Minister Perceval’s assassination earlier that day. Fears of a French plot had circulated throughout the ton, but were quickly disproved by the quick arrest of John Bellingham. Social events had largely been put on hold for the week during the trial, culminating with a finding of guilt the previous day.

  Despite the length of time that had passed, Gina still couldn’t decide whether she never wanted to see Coventry again, or whether she wanted to put the screws to him for treating her so repugnantly. Probably a little of both. The more she thought about it, the stronger the suspicion that there was more to his behavior than first appeared. Clearly, he’d wanted to push her away, the question was why.

  In any event, Cecelia was right. She had been feeling a bit melancholy since her return from the country. Coventry’s rejection had stung more than she would have thought possible—especially coming on the heels of such a staggering personal failing on her part. How had it happened so quickly? One minute she was in control and the next she was practically begging him to have his way with her. She’d behaved like a wanton and nearly lost her virginity in the process. She could have been ruined by a man who wouldn’t have spared her fate a second thought.

  She was furious with herself, but she was also inexplicably sad—thus the melancholy the twins had noticed.

  Her friends were still studying her with concern. Gina shrugged, downplaying her moodiness. “Our wager has been more difficult than I anticipated.”

  Claire furrowed her fair brows. “They’re slippery little devils, aren’t they?”

  Her befuddled expression brought a smile to Gina’s face. “They are indeed.”

  “What will you do next?” Cecelia asked.

  Gina sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve cleaned up his life the best I can, and demonstrated all that a proper wife can do for him, but, to use Claire’s analogy, he won’t bite. He’s more stubborn than I realized.” She frowned. “And there’s something else. Coventry has a true repugnance toward marriage. I’m convinced that it must have something to do with his first wife.”

  Cecelia looked at her strangely. “You mean you don’t know?”

  “I know that he was unfaithful and that she died giving birth to a child.” The lout. Gina didn’t bother to hide her disdain.

  Cecelia bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to say something. “Claire, dearest, will you fetch me my dark green pelisse with the black braid? It’s up in the cupboard in my chamber. Tessie will help you find it.”

  “But it’s not cold outside,” Claire whined. “It’s a beautiful day.”

  “Be a darling, won’t you?”

  It was said so prettily, Gina knew Claire wouldn’t be able to refuse. She didn’t. Resigned to doing her sister’s bidding, Claire turned to head back inside. “Very well, but you won’t say anything while I’m gone will you?”

  “Don’t be a pea,” Cecelia assured her with a brilliant smile.

  But as soon as Claire had left the garden, Cecelia sobered and motioned to a stone bench overlooking the large classical fountain that occupied the center of the rose garden. Stafford House, the marquess’s townhouse on Grosvenor Square, boasted one of the most beautiful gardens in London, and the girls often spent their morning hours outside.

  Curious as to what would require such an obvious ploy to get rid of Claire, Gina eagerly took the seat next to her.

  Cecelia lowered her voice so that they would not be overheard by Lady Stafford. The twins’ mother was sitting at the writing desk near an open window in the blue drawing room that overlooked the rose garden. Lady Stafford found unseemly in her daughters that which she undertook with relish: gossip.

  “What you have said is correct, but there is much more.” Cece paused and took a deep breath. “Lady Coventry was every bit as profligate as her husband, if not more so. She was shockingly bold about her affairs. She had a reputation for a sharp tongue, and from what I understand, it was often publicly directed at belittling her husband.
It became so bad that they couldn’t be in the same room together. There’s one story that’s still bandied about. It happened some years ago, well before either of us were out, but I overheard my mother and her friends discussing how Coventry was so angry with Lord Petersham—one of his wife’s paramours—that he tried to flog him in the street with his riding whip.” At Gina’s horrified gasp, Cecelia continued. “As you can imagine, such an unbridled display of emotion was a great source of amusement to the ton. Although I remember my mother and her friends feeling sorry for Coventry at the time. He was a young man then, and didn’t enjoy nearly the reputation he has today.”

  “How horrible,” Gina said. Poor Coventry.

  Cecelia nodded. “Of course it was widely believed that the child was not his.”

  “I see.” A large block of dread settled in her stomach. No wonder he could not abide the idea of remarrying, when his first wife was so scandalously unfaithful. Suddenly her taunt in the card room came back to her. Was that what had precipitated his cruelty? “Why did you not tell me this before?”

  “I thought you knew. It is not exactly a secret, though I suppose since the countess’s death it is not talked about as much.” Cecelia frowned at her. “Don’t look like you feel so sorry for him, Gina. It might explain why he doesn’t want another wife, but it doesn’t excuse his despicable conduct with Lady Alice and the countless others like her.”

  No, it didn’t. But coupled with his deplorable childhood, it explained quite a lot about the man. No wonder he seemed so cold, the people who were supposed to love him had failed him at every turn. Gina was saved from having to respond by the hurried return of Claire.

  Claire stood with her hands on her hips, glaring back and forth between them suspiciously. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?”

  “Of course not,” Cecelia dismissed.

  Claire pouted, obviously not believing her. “You two are forever leaving me out. I always miss the good stuff.”

  “How do you know it’s good if you’re not here?” Cecelia said playfully.

  Taking pity on her, Gina made room for Claire on the bench and patted the space next to her. “It really was nothing, dearest. I was only about to ask Cecelia how things were progressing with Mr. Ryder.”

  Cecelia’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Not progressing is probably more accurate. It is not going at all as I had planned. Claire spends more time with him than I do.”

  Cecelia’s attempt at lightness came out a bit more churlish than she intended, and her sisterly smile looked strained.

  Claire’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s only because the duke fends me off on the poor man.”

  “The ‘poor man’ doesn’t appear to mind too much,” Cecelia said sarcastically.

  Gina looked back and forth between the two, trying to cover her amusement. Apparently, it hurt Cecelia’s vanity to have Mr. Ryder prefer her sister to her.

  “I’m surprised you noticed with you and the duke constantly shooting daggers at each other,” Claire retorted.

  Gina’s brows shot up. “What’s this? Have you had further run-ins with the duke?”

  “Yes—” Claire started before Cecelia cut her off with a frown.

  “It’s nothing,” Cecelia snapped.

  “He left Newmarket rather abruptly,” Gina offered.

  “Did he?” Cecelia feigned disinterest, but Gina would wager that Cecelia knew much more than she was letting on. Apparently, Gina wasn’t the only one with secrets.

  Claire wrinkled her nose. “We’re not ‘slaying’ much of anything are we?”

  “Not yet,” Cecelia acknowledged, “but the season is not half over.”

  Gina shook her head. “I don’t know, Cece. More and more I’m beginning to believe it’s ludicrous to suppose that any of these men will come up to scratch. What chance do three innocent, drawing-room-reared young ladies truly have with a bunch of jaded, disreputable rakes?”

  Cecelia’s sapphire eyes sparked. “We have everything: beauty, charm, position, fortune—”

  “Modesty,” Gina added.

  Cecelia shot her a sharp look. “And some of us have wit. Just remember that any man would be lucky to have one of us for a wife, including a rake. Not that we would ever marry one of them.”

  No one said anything for a moment. Cecelia looked at them expectantly.

  “Of course not,” Gina answered.

  “Never,” Claire echoed, with a convincing shudder.

  “We must not discourage so easily. They are just men, after all.”

  Cecelia said it with such disdain, Gina had to laugh.

  “And they need to be taught a lesson,” Cecelia reminded them.

  “I agree, but don’t you think our plan smacks of hypocrisy? If we succeed and humiliate them by publicly rejecting their proposals, will we be any better than they are?” Gina recalled her pang of guilt in the card room. She’d been having second thoughts about this whole thing—right up until the point that he’d so coldly rejected her.

  “I agree with Gina, Cece. Don’t you feel guilty doing something so… mean?”

  Cecelia glared at them as if they were turncoats. “One man’s hypocrisy is another man’s justice. It is how you look at it.” She turned to Gina. “Don’t go soft on me. Think about what he has done.”

  She did. Unfortunately, Gina was all too aware of what he was capable of. But it didn’t make her feel any better. Not wanting to think about him anymore, she stood up.

  “We’ll have to finish this conversation later. I must return to St. Albans House.”

  “Why? It’s still early.” Cecelia asked.

  “I’m not sure. My father wants to see me before the party tonight.” Gina frowned. “He seemed distracted when they returned from dinner last night.” The duke and duchess had dined at Carlton House after the trial. “He said it was very important.”

  “I wonder if the duchess is—” Claire stopped when she saw Gina’s face.

  A lump of uncertainty plummeted down her chest. Dear God, was that it? Was her stepmother finally pregnant?

  A knot of dread tightening in her gut, Gina approached her father’s study with burgeoning trepidation. She paused at the door for a minute, took a deep breath, then finally knocked. On her father’s command, she entered.

  “You wished to see me, Father.”

  He was seated behind his desk. Unfortunately, he was not alone. Confirming her suspicions of a child, her stepmother sat across from him with her hands folded primly in her lap.

  “Yes, sit down, Georgina.” He waved her in, motioning for her to take a seat next to the duchess. “The duchess and I have something that we would like to discuss with you.” When neither would meet her eye, her unease increased twofold.

  Gina’s heart raced. Here it was. The moment she’d been waiting for and dreading at the same time. The moment that she would be forever replaced in her father’s affections. She told herself not to be ridiculous, but the petty fear would not go away.

  The duke cleared his throat. “It’s about your recent trip to Newmarket.”

  What? Not a baby? Relief coursed over her. Gina despised herself for her jealousy. She knew how badly her father—like every man—wanted a son, an heir. But she also knew that with a new baby their closeness would never be the same. Look what had happened when he’d married.

  The duke continued unaware of her relief. “Why didn’t you tell us that Lord Coventry was staying at Greenbrook?”

  Her heart sank. Trepidation returned, but this time it was ladened with guilt. “But, how…?”

  “Lady Darby mentioned something at dinner last night.” The duchess spoke for the first time.

  The jealous old harpy. Lady Darby had suspected something, Gina had been sure of it. But she hadn’t realized the ramifications. Nor had she anticipated that Lady Darby would mention something to her father.

  He continued. “I thought I’d made my position on Lord Coventry absolutely clear. With his reputation, he is not a man I would
approve of as a suitor for my daughter. You deliberately lied to us about his presence at Greenbrook.”

  Shamefaced, Gina didn’t know what to say. He was right. She had no excuse. She couldn’t tell him why. “We were well chaperoned.”

  “That is hardly an excuse. But you are fortunate that I am acquainted with Lady Eudora—I mean, Mrs. Persimmons—otherwise I would be demanding something entirely different. As it is, I am very disappointed in you, Georgina. I thought better of you.”

  Gina felt ill. She loved her father; she hated to think that she’d failed him. But she had. Tears sprang to her eyes, and a hot knot lodged in the back of her throat. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” He looked to the duchess. “Perhaps I’ve been too lax with you. I felt guilty for you having to grow up without a mother, but I think I’ve done you a grave injustice. By now you should have a home and children of your own.”

  “But I’ve been happy living with you.”

  His eyes softened. “And I you, Gina. Don’t think I don’t appreciate how well you managed things around here.” He drew up his wide shoulders. “Nevertheless, it is well past time for you to marry. Lord Rockingham has asked for permission to court you, which I have given. I will not force you to accept his suit, but you will choose a husband before the season has finished.”

  Gina gasped and turned on her stepmother. “This is all your fault. You don’t want me here!”

  The cold snap of her father’s fury stopped her. “Not another word, Georgina. Before we both say something we will regret. The duchess had nothing to do with my decision. This is because of your actions. You were the one who lied.”

  Chastened, Gina reined in her tongue. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks. “You’ll force me to marry a man I do not love?”

  He paled. “This is not the middle ages. I will not force you to marry anyone. But I think I have raised a daughter who knows her duty.”

  Gina felt like her entire world had been turned upside-down. Her father, the man she’d always loved and revered above all others, was casting her aside.