Taming the Rake

by Monica McCarty

  He was right, she would do her duty. She wouldn’t stay where she was no longer wanted.

  He seemed to guess how she was feeling. “I just want you to be happy, Gina. Would you really wish to spend a lifetime with a man like Coventry? Trust me, a man of his ilk would only succeed in making you miserable. Men like him cannot be tamed for a simple life of domestication.”

  Not trusting herself to speak, Gina shook her head. She wished she could explain that it was all a ruse, that she had no intention of marrying Coventry. But she couldn’t. Nor was she sure that it would make a difference. Her father was like her, once he made a decision, he stuck with it—no matter how ill-conceived. And he’d decided it was time for her to leave.

  “Rockingham is an excellent suitor. I thought you would be happy. But if there is someone else that you would prefer—”

  “There’s no one,” she said hollowly. “If that is all, I think I would like to retire to my room before the party.” Not trusting herself to look at her stepmother again, Gina spun on her heel and raced from the room.

  He might argue with the semantics, but her father was forcing her to marry. How could he do this to her?

  If only it had just been a baby.

  The duchess rose from her seat and circled around the desk to comfort her visibly distressed husband. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she bent down to place a soft kiss on his temple. “I’m sorry, my love. You knew she would be upset. Georgina is a proud girl and doesn’t like having her hand forced. But she’ll come around. Lord Rockingham is charming and handsome and completely besotted. If she gives him a chance, I know she will see that this is for the best. Lord Coventry would only break her heart.”

  She’d never seen her husband look so strained. The duke loved his daughter and watching the betrayal cloud Georgina’s face had been difficult to withstand, even for the duchess. She could only imagine how he must feel.

  The duchess was aware of how her stepdaughter felt about her, and she understood. She’d probably feel the same in her position. Not that understanding had made her adjustment any easier. But Georgina was a good girl. She’d come around. Eventually. She hoped.

  “She was looking at me like I’d just slipped a knife into her back.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  He gave her a look. “It wasn’t?”

  She gave a half laugh. “Well, I suppose it was. But remember you’re only giving her a nudge. I know you won’t force her to marry against her will, and deep down, so does Georgina.”

  “I know you’re right. I just hate to see her so unhappy. The Earl of Coventry, for God’s sake. I like the man well enough, but not for my daughter. With his reputation?” He shook his head. “He is uncontrollable. As soon as Georgina realized that she could not make him toe the line, she would be miserable.”

  The duchess kept her own counsel, comforting her husband as best she could with her gentle ministrations, massaging the tension from his neck with her fingers. As difficult as that scene had been to witness, the duchess knew that what could happen if Georgina continued unchecked was much worse.

  Georgina had guessed correctly. It had been at the duchess’s urging that the duke insisted she marry. She had to do something. A few days ago, the duchess had overheard an unlikely conversation about the Rake Slayers. To say that she was shocked would put it mildly. Never would she have imagined that her stepdaughter would be involved in something so beyond the pale.

  Although she had to hand it to her; the duchess hadn’t thought her very proper stepdaughter had it in her. Everything about Georgina was so prim and perfect, the duchess was relieved to see that she was capable of breaking the rules and making an occasional mistake.

  And she had no doubt, despite the ring of justice to their plan, toying with Lord Coventry was a mistake. An egregious one. The duchess had seen enough women fall victim to his indifference over the past few years. Intentionally or unintentionally, he chewed women up then spit them out when he was finished with them. She didn’t relish seeing the same thing happen to her stepdaughter. And despite Georgina’s protestations to the contrary, Georgina did not seem altogether unaffected by Coventry’s considerable charms. He was a heartless rogue to be sure, but a handsome and undeniably appealing one, all the same. It really was a pity that he’d been so irreparably scarred. The duchess had no doubt that if Georgina fell in love with Lord Coventry, she would get hurt—with his past there was simply no other possible outcome.

  The duchess had known his first wife, and stood witness to the hell Lady Serena Lyons put him through. Perhaps that was why she’d always felt a bit sorry for him. She understood his lack of trust and his anger. Serena had humiliated him with countless liaisons and her all-too-vocal accompanying slurs against his manhood.

  He’d spent the past few years proving his wife wrong. No one could question his prowess now.

  Georgina simply didn’t understand the sort of man she was trifling with. God help the girl, if he ever found out what Georgina intended. To be made the butt of a silly girl’s drawing room prank would likely be the height of humiliation for him—especially if Georgina succeeded. So the duchess had devised her plan to protect both Gina and Coventry. The ramifications, the potential for disaster, was simply too great for her to do nothing.

  She only hoped it worked. She didn’t want to have to tell the duke what his beloved daughter was up to.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  What was she going to do? Hours later, as Gina stood chatting with a group of friends at Count and Countess Lieven’s soirée, she was no closer to a decision. She felt like some tragic heroine in a bad novel: Aging spinster daughter forced by jealous young stepmother to marry. Perhaps it wasn’t an entirely accurate characterization, but Gina’s feelings were too raw right then for fairness.

  Her father’s betrayal still stung. Clearly he didn’t want her around any longer, but how could he ask her to marry a man whom she didn’t love? Whom she barely even knew?

  Admittedly, she should have told him the truth about the house party, but did one tiny lie of omission really warrant such drastic consequences? It’s not as if she’d been compromised… exactly. She grimaced. Well, that anyone knew of at least.

  She sighed and scanned the ballroom, resigned to her fate. Her father knew her well. She would do her duty and marry. But who? Lord Rockingham? Another Hellfire Rake? And what of the wager? How was she going to find a suitable man to marry and bring Coventry up to snuff at the same time? It simply wasn’t possible. As much as she detested losing or conceding, she’d have to put Coventry and the wager aside. In the limited amount of time she had before the end of the season, finding a husband—a real husband—took precedent.

  Gina was surprised by how much the idea of ending her pursuit of Coventry disturbed her. Once again she admitted that Cecelia had been right. Gina had enjoyed herself the past few weeks. The challenge of the hunt had been invigorating; there was nothing boring about Lord Coventry. Pretending to pursue him, upsetting his life of debauchery, trying to convince him that he needed a wife, it had given her a purpose. One that she wasn’t ready to relinquish just yet. She hadn’t achieved her objectives.

  But it wasn’t just losing a wager or conceding defeat that bothered her.

  She didn’t want to stop seeing him. Didn’t want to stop experiencing that strange surge of energy whenever he stepped into the room. As if every nerve ending buzzed with awareness. No other man had ever made her heart pound and skip with the mere cast of his sultry gaze.

  No other man had ever made her weak with desire.

  A lump of dread settled low in her belly. Despite all the warnings, after what he’d done, had she actually begun to care for him? Could she really be that foolish?

  She shook off the ridiculous notion before it could take root. There were dozens of gentlemen just in this room who were just as handsome and infinitely better choices for a husband. Dozens of men who her father would not refuse.

  Determined to find on
e, she ran through the list of all the unmarried, suitable men swarming about the room before her: There was Lord Percy, Lord Ashley, and Mr. Dashwood. She frowned, knowing they would never do. Like Coventry and Rockingham, they were Hellfire Rakes. Why exchange one set of problems for another?

  There was Lord Spencer (too old), Lord Dudley (too cold), Mr. Collins (too boring), the Compte d’Avignon (too foreign), Colonel Damer (too poor), Poodle Byng (too pretty), and Lord Harrowgate (already rejected). Gina bit her lip and surveyed the room again; perhaps she was being too choosey. There was Sir Walter (too short), Mr. Bridges (too thin), Lord Cameron (too florid), and… she couldn’t see anyone else. She felt a moment of panic before forcing herself to calm down. What was wrong with her? Any one of them would do.

  Despite her brave thoughts, a feeling of helplessness settled over her. She pretended to join in the laughter at something Lady Penelope said, but her eyes kept darting about, trying to find someone, anyone, with whom she could see herself joined in eternity. Anyone who she could imagine allowing to touch her in the intimate way that Coventry had. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget the exquisite sensations he’d awakened inside her.

  “Looking for someone? Perhaps I might be of some help?”

  Surprised, Gina turned to find Lord Rockingham at her side. She took in his fine form, exceptionally handsome face, and laughing eyes. Except for his unfortunate choice of friends, Rockingham was otherwise perfect. Surely, kissing him would make her pulse race and her legs weak. Her mouth twisted. “Perhaps you might.”

  The sudden heat in his gaze made her blush. “I’m intrigued.”

  Embarrassed to have made her thoughts so clear, Gina changed the subject. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

  “I found myself unable to stay away from your side for one moment longer.” He lowered his voice to avoid the curious ears of her friends who were pretending, not very convincingly, not to listen.

  Gina quirked a brow.

  He put his hand over his heart. “You wound me, dear lady, with your unfeeling skepticism. What must I do to convince you?”

  She laughed. “Tell me the truth. Were the cards unlucky?”

  He grinned devilishly. “Very well, oh heartless jade, I have come along at the bequest of a friend, but I was anxious to see you. I called on you earlier but you were not at home. Do you realize it has been seven days since our parting at Newmarket?”

  “Seven whole days?”

  He sighed dramatically. “An eternity.”

  She tried not to smile, but failed. “You’re incorrigible.”

  He laughed. “Agreed. Now tell me, how can I be of help? What dragons must I vanquish to win the fair maiden’s heart?”

  “Nothing quite so heroic, I’m afraid. I was simply thinking about taking some air in the garden.”

  He bowed. “I would be honored to escort you.”

  Gina took his arm, made her excuses to her twittering friends, and started across the ballroom toward the wall of glass doors that led to the veranda and garden.

  “You seemed to be looking for someone?” Lord Rockingham asked pleasantly.

  As she could hardly tell him that she was looking for a better choice of a husband she said, “I’d expected to see Lady Augusta tonight.”

  He grinned crookedly. “Then I can truly be of help. Coventry was the friend I spoke of. I arrived with Lady Augusta only moments ago.”

  A knot of trepidation twisted in her gut. Knowing what she would see, Gina glanced in the direction that he indicated. The whiplash of pain hit her hard. Looking more handsome than she remembered, Coventry stood near the door with his mother and Augusta, greeting their hosts. All the emotions she’d buried since their interlude in the game room came crashing back in full force. The joy, the awakening, the passion… the cruel devastation.

  She remembered what it felt like to be wrapped in his arms, his mouth crushing hers in the heated embrace. She remembered how he tasted, how he smelled, how it felt to caress the hard muscles of his shoulders and arms, how he’d pressed against her. But most of all she remembered how it felt when he’d touched her, when he’d taken her breasts in his mouth, and stroked her with his finger until she’d come apart in his arms.

  With all of the uncertainty and vulnerability of that moment exposed to his ruthless scrutiny, he chose that time to meet her gaze.

  Perhaps if there had been a flicker of emotion in the bottomless depths of his glacial gaze—anything: uncertainty, compassion, desire—it might have changed her mind. But there was nothing. If he’d cut her with a knife, his feelings could not have been made more clear.

  She meant nothing to him.

  And if the pain twisting her chest was any indication, he meant much more to her than she wanted to acknowledge. She needed to clear the memories of their liaison from her head. To prove to herself that he’d simply unleashed the passion inside her, not that he owned it. Inwardly, she cringed with humiliation, recalling how she’d offered herself to the first man to bestow more than a chaste peck on her lips.

  Purposely, she looked away, back to the sinfully handsome man at her side. She willed her body to bristle with awareness, willed her heart to race furiously in her chest, willed her body to heat under his appreciative gaze. And tried not to panic when it refused to comply.

  She decided to test the waters of passion with someone else, if Rockingham attempted to kiss her, she would allow it. Perhaps then, she could erase the memories of what had happened in Newmarket.

  Rockingham studied her thoughtfully. “Is something wrong?”

  Everything was wrong. But Gina forced a smile back on her face. “Nothing that a change of scenery will not fix.”

  Pleased by her answer, Rockingham steered her possessively toward the garden. Toward her future.

  It physically hurt just to stand by and do nothing. To feign disinterest, to ignore Rockingham’s persistent wooing with cold dispassion, to pretend that the tightening in his chest was not constricting the very breath from his lungs. But Coventry didn’t have a choice, not if he wanted Lady Georgina Beauclerk safely exhumed from his life.

  So when her gaze riveted on his, he forced himself not to react, giving no hint to the tumult of emotions stirring inside him. Cold indifference, he swore, even when the hurt swimming in her eyes sent shards of pain stabbing through his chest. It was for the best.

  She made him feel far too much.

  He wasn’t nearly as indifferent as he wanted to be about what had happened in the card room. His attempt to intimidate her with passion had failed. Miserably. Instead, he’d created an intimacy between them that could not be denied. And an insatiable hunger raging inside him that demanded to finish what they’d started.

  Despite his best efforts she’d managed to get under his skin. The intensity of emotion he’d felt for her as she’d come apart in his arms had frightened him. He’d felt himself beginning to open up, beginning to ask what if?

  Disgusted, he shook his head. He thought he’d left that foolishness in his past. The damned neediness inside him had always been his Achilles’ heel. It was what had made his parents’ cruelty and his wife’s betrayal so painful. Other men had suffered as much, why was he so weak? He’d spent years of time and effort ridding himself of this weakness—he wouldn’t open himself up again.

  But knowing that he was doing the right thing didn’t make doing it any easier.

  Time and distance had yet to work their magic.

  He forced himself not to watch as Rockingham lured her to the garden like a spider with a fly. A rush of blood pounded through his veins, every impulse in his body strained to go after them.

  But he didn’t.

  Instead, he focused on finding Ash. Perhaps he couldn’t speed up the passage of time, but he could do something about distance. Once Augusta was married, he could return to his haunt in the bowels of society, avoiding any chance encounters with Lady Georgina. Already his temporary bout with propriety had ended upon his return to tow
n. He’d returned to his usual pursuits with renewed vigor in the effort to erase his uncharacteristic lapse into the mundane. Not, he told himself, to blunt the guilt for his cruel words in the card room.

  Thus, it was by fortuitous circumstance that he found Ash seeking refreshment, with Coventry craving the very thing himself.

  Staring glumly into the bottom of his glass, Ash didn’t notice him right away. When Coventry cleared his throat, he glanced up. “How long have you been standing there?”

  Coventry shrugged, picked up a glass and downed the contents in one gulp. “Not long.” He paused, carefully watching his friend’s reaction with his next words. “I arrived with my sister only a few minutes ago.”

  Confirming his suspicions, Ash immediately scanned the room, searching for Augusta. When he located her in a group of young ladies, his expression softened.

  Uncomfortable in the unfamiliar role of guardian, Coventry shuffled then blurted without preamble, “Look here, Ashley, what are your intentions toward my sister.”

  A flush crept up Ash’s neck, but he squared his shoulders and looked Coventry directly in the eye. “Honorable.”

  Pleased, Coventry nodded. I told her so.

  “Not that it matters.” Ash shook his head, dejected.

  “What do you mean?” Coventry asked.

  “I thought she might return my regard, but lately she seems to prefer the attentions of Carrington,” Ash said with disgust. “I don’t understand it.”

  Unfortunately, Coventry did. Thanks to one interfering busybody. But he would rectify matters soon. “I’d never allow such a match.”

  Ash nodded, obviously relieved. “Glad to hear it. I can’t tolerate the fellow myself. There’s something about him…” He stopped when he noticed that Coventry’s attention had drifted elsewhere. “What’s wrong?”

  Coventry frowned as the group of ladies that Gina had been standing with quickly broke off in different directions. Two nameless debutantes quickly descended on Beaufort and Dashwood, while Lady Blakemore and Lady Penelope headed purposefully in their direction. For a time Coventry thought he’d imagined it. But more and more he knew he had not. It seemed like every time he turned around, his friends were being dragged off on some ridiculous quest or another. “Something strange is going on.”