Catching A Rake (A Rake's Redemption Book 3)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  No, he would not allow it. Under no circumstances would anything ever hurt this woman again.

  “I still don’t see why you believe this man will show himself tonight,” she said as she took her place in line.

  He shrugged. “It is our best hope. We believe that he has an unnatural interest in you and will be unable to let this opportunity slip away.”

  Her brow narrowed. “So, I am bait. Nothing more than a tethered goat.”

  He laughed. “More a treasured prize. A priceless object that he cannot pass up. At least that is our hope.”

  She studied him for a moment. “Why might you think his interest in me is unusual. Is it that hard to believe that a man might find me attractive. Perhaps even intriguing.”

  Bradford’s stomach dropped. Had he upset her? That had not been his intention.

  “No, of course not,” he replied quickly. “It is only that a man who would kidnap a woman against her will in the hope of marrying her is not fully right in his mind.”

  She looked up into his eyes for a long moment then smiled slightly. “I don’t know,” she said. “There is something to be said for a man who knows what he wants and is not afraid to take it.”

  His forehead furrowed as he tried to decipher her words when Benson opened the front door and the first guests began to arrive. Bradford put aside the questions dancing around in his head as he focused on the new arrivals.

  Between greeting the guests and constantly glancing at Warwick and Cooper, he soon forgot his wife’s words. But he knew it was something he would have to return to later.

  With each arrival, Cooper shook his head no. The man’s face was as white as the cliffs of Dover. He well knew his very life depended upon their man showing tonight. Each time he shook his head, a little piece of hope in Bradford’s heart faded away. This had to work, he thought. It was the only way he could make sure Olivia was safe. Nothing was more important.

  He looked at his wife once again. Gorgeous in a sky blue gown. Her hair up, exposing that long, delicious neck of hers. Every curve reminding him of what if felt like to run his hands over her. To possess, to control. His wife, his woman.

  Yet, he had not told her his secret. He had not dared expose himself. Not yet. If ever.

  For ten long days, he and Olivia had lived in this house. Nathanial had agreed with him that because of his reduced staff they should stay here in the Caldwell home.

  A dozen times, he had been tempted to express his feelings. A thought that made him shudder just thinking about it. Each time the wild urge had come upon him, he had forcibly pushed it aside.

  But it became more difficult each day. She had not called him to her bed again. And every moment he contemplated tossing aside their agreement and taking her. It would be easy, he well knew. He could tell by the way she responded to his touch. The way her eyes would dance when he drew near.

  There was a tension in the air between them. An attraction that could not be denied. Yet, she still refused to ask him. Still maintained a determined control that was driving him to bedlam.

  No, he mustn’t let her know. While he might very well love her. Desire her more than any woman had ever been desired. She need not know it. Not yet.

  “I must say, Bradford,” Olivia said as she tapped his arm with her fan. “You do look sour. You will scare him away. Do try to appear unconcerned. Where is that unflappable disdain you pull off so well. That air of nonchalance you are famous for.”

  He laughed. The woman was right, as always. “Of course, Olivia. You do realize that it is much easier to create that impression when I don’t truly care. This however is different. This is important.”

  Her eyes grew a little bigger as she stared up at him. He returned her look and the two of them became lost in each other for a long moment.”

  “Will you two stop flirting with each other?” Lady Weston hissed behind her fan. “People will think you are newlyweds. It is so unbecoming.”

  Both Bradford and Olivia laughed together and returned to focusing on receiving their guests. But Bradford could not stop himself from imagining what their life would be like if she truly did love him.

  Bradford continued to glance at Cooper and Warwick each time a young Lord arrived. But still nothing.

  Eventually, the line of guests dwindled to almost nothing. Nathanial shot him a glance over the top of the Lady’s head. Bradford shrugged. Perhaps the man would be late. Maybe hoping to arrive without drawing attention.

  As the hosts broke the line and returned to the ballroom, Bradford leaned down and whispered to Olivia, “Stay with Nathanial, I will join you in a moment.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded. Knowing that Nathanial would keep an eye on her, Bradford made his way to Cooper and Warwick.

  A small bead of sweat had formed just under the edge of the powdered wig Cooper was wearing, He looked back at Bradford and gulped.

  “Anything?” Bradford demanded.

  Cooper slowly shook his head, “No, M’Lord. He wasn’t there.”

  “Are you sure?” Warwick said. “The Boar’s Head is probably a rather dark place. How can you be sure?”

  “I’d know him, Sir,” the thug said. “Believe me, I prayed that he would show tonight. I well know what rests in the balance for me. But I know if I give up the wrong man and you find out, it will be the gibbet for me for sure. No, sir, he didn’t come through that door. I am positive.”

  Bradford let out a long breath. It was what he had feared the most. They were no closer than they had been and they couldn’t keep Cooper like this for long. At some point the man would try to escape. At which point Jocko would probably kill him.

  By the time he returned to the ballroom, the band was tuning, preparing to start. He smiled and nodded as he made his way across the floor to his wife and her brother. She really is beautiful, he thought for the thousandth time. A perfect blend of female curves with a hint of innocence. An angelic face with a touch of strength.

  The kind of woman to melt a man’s resolve.

  “Lady Bradford,” he said as he stopped and bowed. “Would you care to dance?”

  Her jaw dropped and her eyes grew big. Amanda, next to her, giggled behind her fan. Lady Weston rolled her eyes. “Really Bradford,” she said to him. “A man doesn’t dance with his wife at these things. It is almost considered boorish behavior. Not quite, but almost.”

  He laughed as he continued to look at his wife, waiting for her answer.

  “Of course, My Lord,” she said as she took his hand.

  If she could deny herself and him the pleasures of the bedroom, then he was determined that tonight, she would regret having such self-control.

  They may have lost out on the opportunity of finding their man. But, that did not mean the night had to be a total waste. Perhaps, if he was careful, he could seduce his wife without her knowing.

  .o0o.

  Olivia’s heart raced. Bradford was being extremely charming this evening. Why?

  Taking his hand, she allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor and into the first square for a quadrille.

  He is rather handsome, she thought as she silently regretted her inability to ask him to take her to bed. It had been all she could think about these ten days. She would find her mind wandering, as she thought of all she was missing. But she couldn’t do it. Something had shifted between them. The entire ‘mistress’ fiasco had revealed to her just how much she cared and just how much it would hurt to be rejected.

  Amanda had asked her several times if she was all right, but how could she explain it to an unmarried woman. Someone who didn’t understand the want and need burning inside of her.

  Taking a deep breath, she waited for the musicians to begin. Bradford smiled at her and her heart broke once again. Oh to have this man love her the way she loved him. Nothing would be more wonderful.

  The music started and Olivia became lost in following the steps, shifting from partner to partner until once again her hand was held by Bradfo
rd’s.

  How is it possible to feel such energy?

  Eventually, the music drew to a close and Bradford extended a leg and bowed formally to her, silently thanking her for the dance. She smiled as she slipped her hand into his arm and let him lead her back to the group.

  Amanda, who had surprisingly danced with Lord Warwick returned as well, her cheeks much more flushed than a simple dance should have created.

  Bradford shot Warwick a look and said, “Cooper?”

  “Jocko is with him,” Warwick answered as he bent over Amanda’s hand and gave it a quick kiss. “I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to dance with a beautiful woman, now could I?”

  Olivia was amazed to see her friend blush even more furiously as she stumbled to think of how to respond. Amanda was never at a loss for words.

  The British Lord smiled and turned to leave, obviously going to check on Jocko.

  “I do believe our goal will not be met tonight,” Lady Weston said as she looked out over at the crowd. “I’ve told Benson to open the doors to the garden to let in some air. It is late in the season and the night is rather warm. I do hope that is acceptable?”

  Both Nathanial and Bradford nodded, it was obvious they had come to accept that their quarry would not show.

  Lady Weston slowly shook her head. “There is no need for the evening to be a complete failure. Do not forget, we must show that this marriage is socially acceptable and without scandal. I suggest we mingle and ensure the happy couple is well thought of.”

  Olivia nodded as she swallowed a bitter thought. The ton could care less if her marriage was happy. All they cared about was ensuring any child that resulted from it was Bradford’s. She had already seen several women glancing at her stomach, obviously silently wondering if she was already several months gone.

  And even if it wasn’t Bradford’s. It was important that he claim it as such. Appearances were everything. It was perfectly acceptable for a bastard to inherit the title as long as he had the Bradford name when he did and no one knew the truth of his lineage.

  The only thing was for everyone to pretend that the child had been selected by god to enter the British Aristocracy.

  Grinding her teeth, she wanted to yell at them that there was no child and might not ever be.

  Sighing to herself, she slipped her arm into Amanda’s and pulled her away. The Duke and Duchess of Hamilton had just arrived and she wished to greet them. Shooting Bradford a quick look, he nodded his approval but a frown marked his face. He obviously didn’t enjoy the idea of her being far from him.

  His obvious protectiveness sent a warm thrill though her. It was so strange, she thought as she and Amanda weaved their way through the crowd. A few weeks ago, that sense of protectiveness would have been suffocating. She would have viewed it as cloying, almost domineering. Now, she found it a great comfort.

  Why was that? Why was the same action viewed differently? Because you are in love with the man, she told herself. Everything looks different from this new perspective.

  Sighing heavily, she glanced over her shoulder to find Bradford watching her. His eyes intently following her every move. They looked different, reminding her of what she had always imagined a wolf’s stare would look like. Hungry, intense, and in control.

  The familiar butterflies erupted. The man could make her knees nervous from across the room.

  The Duke and Duchess of Hamilton greeted her warmly. Her Grace pulled her into a quick hug before Olivia could drop into a curtsey.

  “I am so happy for you Olivia,” she said.

  “Lady Bradford,” the Duke gently corrected.

  Her Grace waved him off, she had long ago learned to ignore him when she wanted to. At least in the small matters of society.

  “Regardless, I am happy for her. You make such a wonderful couple. I always knew you were meant for each other.”

  Olivia tried to smile back. No need for her Grace to know the truth.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “You will save me a dance Lady Bradford?” the Duke of Hamilton said. “You as well, Miss Waters,” he added to Amanda.

  “He hardly ever dances with me anymore,” the Duchess said with a small pretend pout.

  The Duke rose up to his full height and frowned. “My dear, I would dance with you all night. But the old biddies at these things would die of apoplexy. Don’t argue, you know it is true.”

  The Duchess laughed as she gently touched his arm. “That is true.” Then turning to Olivia, she said, “Enjoy these early days. They can be the best part of a marriage.”

  “What?” the Duke said with an obvious false sense of hurt feelings. “Are you telling me that it has all been downhill since our marriage?”

  The Duchess of Hamilton shook her head as she frowned at her husband before she laughed behind her fan.

  Olivia laughed to herself. They were always like this, but so obviously in love that it was easy to forgive them their joy.

  A sadness washed through her as she looked back across the room at Bradford. Oh, there was so much they were missing. So much they would never have.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Olivia’s feet hurt and her corset had created a persistent itch at the bottom of her back. But the night was almost over. Another hour at most.

  Turning, she examined the room. Amanda was dancing with the Duke of Hamilton. Her Grace with Lord Warwick. Why did Amanda keep glancing over at Warwick? Interesting she thought.

  Nathanial had excused himself to go check on Lady Alice. If she knew her brother, he would stay away for most of the night.

  Lady Weston was in deep conversation with several of the older women. The women who controlled the narrative as she said. The story the ton told each other. Knowing Lady Weston, Olivia knew she could rest assured that her case was being well argued. Before the night was over, half of England would believe that she and Bradford had been secretly engaged for years.

  Speaking of which, where was the man? His absence had sent a small sense of loss through her. Granted, he was probably making his hourly round of the house. Checking in with each footman. Issuing orders and directing others. The man lived to be in control.

  But forgive him, she thought to herself. He was doing it for her, she must never forget that.

  A frustrating empty feeling engulfed her for a moment, then she saw an old friend and smiled to herself. Lord Hartfield. The handsome Baron was staring back at her, a slight smile on his lips.

  Dressed in a blue coat with pantaloons. The man held a thin, finely carved cane with a silver lion’s head. A fashion several of the young Lords had taken up recently.

  He must have arrived rather late, she thought. Dipping his head in greeting, he began to walk towards her. Had it only been a month earlier, she thought that this man had been on the cusp of asking her to marry him? Surprisingly the memory held no nostalgia. The memory didn’t move her at all.

  Would she have been happier, she wondered, if she had accepted his offer? Was it better to love your husband or have him love you? Since it appeared as if she would never have both combined., which would be better?

  Frowning to herself she realized she could not imagine being married to anyone but Bradford. The man might be insufferable, at times, irritating. At others, cold and distant. Yet, no matter all his faults. She would not prefer to be with another.

  Smiling as Lord Hartfield bent over her hand she felt herself relax inside. Bradford had won her heart. She couldn’t deny it and need not hide it any longer. He had won and the sooner she told him the better she would feel.

  The realization sent a bolt of pure happiness through her. She would surrender to him. The thought held no sense of fear or regret. No, it was what she wanted. Desperately.

  “I am told that congratulations are in order Olivia,” Lord Hartfield said with a slight smile that did not reach his eyes. His lack of formal address bothered her. Not because of any rank consciousness. But it failed to recognize her husband.


  “Lord Hartfield,” she said with as much correctness as she could muster.

  “Lady Bradford,” he said, obviously picking up on her hint. “Forgive me, but I will always think of you as Miss Olivia, a diamond if there ever was one.”

  She bowed her head slightly, accepting his apology and compliment. Really, it wasn’t his fault. She must remember that only weeks ago she had been but a commoner. And she had never given any indication that she was thinking of marrying Bradford. Lord Hartfield might very well feel as if he had been misled, she realized.

  Suddenly, her heart went out to him. He had always been so nice, so attentive. His pursuit had been flattering. Really, she must be nice to him, she told herself.

  “I do hope you are doing well, Lord Hartfield,” she said with a soft smile that she hoped might convey the fact that she really did hope that.

  He smiled back, but once again there was a hidden pain behind his eyes.

  “Lord Hartfield,” she said as she reached out and gently lay a hand on his arm, “is everything all right? Is there anything I can do to help?”

  He looked down at her hand resting on his arm then back up at her. The sadness in his eyes melted her heart.

  “Actually, Lady Bradford,” he said, “perhaps you could.”

  “Tell me,” Olivia said beseechingly.

  He sighed heavily then leaned forward and said. “I have fallen in love, with a young woman.”

  Olivia smiled, “Oh, I am pleased.”

  He shrugged, “Her family is rather protective and I fear would not accept my suit.”

  Olivia frowned. “Oh, I am sure you are mistaken. How can I help?”

  Lord Hartfield turned to look at the people surrounding them. Even this late in the evening the room was crowded with a hundred conversations going on.

  “Perhaps we could talk in the garden. We would stay well with sight of everyone, but a little privacy is all I ask. I couldn’t bear to have anyone overhear my plight.”

  She hesitated. Granted, the garden doors were open. What would Bradford think? She would not upset him. Not now. Not after the entire mistress misunderstanding. No, there would be no secrets between them.