The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  He looked a bit disappointed, but said nothing, merely took her arm more firmly and walked on.

  They went down as far as Pulteney Bridge, which she told him had been built in imitation of the Ponte Vecchio in Florence.

  "It was completed by Robert Adam in 1774, and was his only contribution to this magnificent city. Great Pulteney Street was built in 1788 and was designed by Baldwin. There is a terrace here overlooking the river where we can stop and read, and I have some sandwiches in my reticule."

  "Lovely. Let's sit and open your letters."

  She laid out the food and opened the first missive. "This is just one from the Duke, saying he and everyone else in the party are well. Elizabeth is thriving in Ireland, blossoming like a new woman, apparently. Vanessa is getting ready to give birth, and all is well."

  "Good news," he said, relieved for her, and oddly for himself as well. He might never have met any of them, but from all Sarah had told him, he was certainly starting to view all of the Rakehell set as his friends. "And the other letter?"

  She opened it and scanned it quickly. "Dr. Blake Sanderson. Dreadful writing. This could take some time. He apologizes for not being home sooner, but there are still so many wounded who have to be re-patriated after the war. He's in Bordeaux at the moment, and says he will be coming home with a very special patient. He wants Jonathan or myself to make inquiries as to a suitably spacious and private house for a gentleman of means here in Bath."

  "Oh, really? Who?" Alexander asked curiously.

  She scanned the pages in silence then, too stunned to speak.

  "What is it? What's wrong?"

  "He's well, sworn me to secrecy. But I can tell you, for whom would you tell. It's Michael Avenel, Viscount Glyne. He's alive. Terribly wounded. Paralyzed from the waist down, without much hope of ever walking again. He doesn't want his family to know, to be burdened by him, Blake says."

  "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry."

  He gathered her against his chest and kissed the tears from her cheeks. Then it hit him. "Good God. His brother Randall's letter-- That poor family."

  "Yes. He's hideously injured. Back and legs mangled. It's a miracle he's even still alive. Blake says he was an absolute hero at Toulouse. That he's still not sure he got all the musket balls and shrapnel out of his body. Michael wouldn't leave his men no matter how badly he was injured." She crumpled the letter slightly in her curling fist, so agitated was she. "Lord in Heaven, what was he thinking?"

  "You sound almost angry," Alexander observed, trying to keep his tone neutral.

  "Yes, yes I am, Alexander. I think of what happened to you, and my brother, Thomas, Clifford, Gareth, and now and Michael, and I'm furious. Disgusted with the wretched waste. Bloody Napoleon. I hope he rots in Hell.

  "And I'm angry with Michael for being so wretchedly noble. And I'm furious with the Fates for laughing at us. That battle should never have been fought. Napoleon had already abdicated. The news was just far too slow to reach the south from Paris. And with Gareth wounded and taken prisoner at Bayonne, it's just too dreadful."

  "But Blake is well?" he asked quickly, steeling himself for the prospect of more bad news.

  She read on for a moment, then patted him on the knee. "Yes, he'll come home with Michael as soon as they allow him. He says he must spend some time in London, but wants us to put in a request with the housing agents here on Michael's behalf, though of course, not to use his real name. We must simply say that Dr. Blake Sanderson needs accommodations as befitting a gentleman of his means."

  "By all means we must help your friend," he said firmly.

  She gazed up at him quickly. "You don't mind?"

  He swallowed back his bitterness. "No, of course not. He has the prior claim of acquaintanceship, and crippled as badly as he is, he will need all the assistance he can get. I remember what it was like all too well, and was only injured in my back."

  She sensed his jealousy and hastened to add, "And a nurse or doctor, and a couple of good servants. Though Blake does say here some of his old comrades will undoubtedly be looking for work now that the war is over."

  "Aye, there will be many more dispossessed men than me. I'm sure you're going to try to help them all."

  She detected the edge of bitterness in his tone then, and grasped his elbow. "Don't tell me you think I'm only here with you because I, what, pity you?" she asked in exasperation.

  "Oh Sarah, I wish I didn't," he confessed in an agonized whisper. "But you speak of Michael and the other Rakehells so fondly, and--"

  "Stop it right now!"

  "But Sarah, answer me honestly," Alexander demanded. "If I hadn't been injured, would you really have taken a second look at me?"

  She stiffened in his arms and slid away on the bench. "I'm not in the habit of taking second looks at any man. You're the only one, Alexander, so handsome you take my breath away. Even beyond your magnificent physique, there's your heart and soul.

  "I know you don't remember very much, but there's nothing in your character I feel I have any cause to fear. We like all the same things. I feel like I could spend a lifetime with you and never run out of things to talk about. I love you, Alexander Deveril. Perhaps if you hear it often enough, you might start believing it."

  He pressed next to her once more and held her close, rubbing his face against her silken soft hair. "I'm sorry. I'm delighted your friend is still alive. Really and truly, my dear. I just love you so much. And well, I am astonished you never fell in love with any of them if they are all so wonderful as you say."

  "I was a hoydenish little thing, determined to keep up with my brother, hunting, shooting, fencing. The only time I played with dolls was to practice nursing them. So friends, yes, romantic attachment, no. I doubt they ever took a second look at me," she admitted with a laugh. "Especially not the titled one. We are respectable family but certainly can't come near the wealth of the Elthams or Avenels. Why marry a poor hoydenish miss when they could have their pick of fine ladies."

  "I can't picture it, somehow. To me, you're all woman."

  "But not to them," she said, patting him on the knee. "To them I was a little sister striding around in breeches. So you have no cause to be jealous like that."

  He sighed, and squeezed her hand. "I don't me to be. It's just that like you said, I can't imagine anything worse than losing you."

  She straightened her back and thrust out her chin. "Then don't. Because I won't let it happen."

  "You're a strong woman, Sarah. I want believe you. Sitting beside you like this now, I can believe anything is possible."

  "It is," she promised, moving to sit in his lap, heedless of the rest of the people strolling up and down in the park in the bright sunshine. "You make me strong. Your love, having you by my side, makes me feel like I can take on the world and win. Love isn't a weakness, Alexander. We can't allow ourselves to be frightened of the magic we share, or doubt or mistrust it."

  "I won't. Not ever again. You're mine for as long as the gods see fit to spare us."

  "Yes, Alexander, I'm all yours, forever," she vowed, kissing him until they began to pant with need.

  At length he pulled away shakily. "Well, I think we just told everyone in Bath I'm your lover."

  "There are not many people about at the moment, and I don't care anyway. Come, let's go to the housing agent for Blake and Michael, and head back to the Crescent. Are you all right on foot, or do we need a carriage?"

  "Foot, please. It's a glorious day, made even more splendid by the lovely woman at my side."

  "Why thank you, kind sir." She rose from his lap and took his arm.

  They left the park and proceeded back up towards the Hot Baths this time. As they walked, it appeared to Sarah that the town seemed more beautiful than ever.

  But she was sure it was only because of the company she was now keeping. Her love for Alexander made her see the world in a whole new light.

  She basked in the warmth of his tender regard as he held her close. She returned
the loving pressure, feeling all of her flesh and soul rise up to meet him, and prayed they would have many more such days and nights of unalloyed bliss.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The first few days of their trip to Bath were relatively uneventful, for Sarah did not feel the pressure to participate in the never-ending social round the way she had done in the past. She would call on her friends at some point before she left.

  But the Baths, the Abbey, and their walks and drives in the countryside, and al fresco meals, put a new color in Alexander's cheeks and a vibrancy to his eyes that she had never seen before, but reveled in. She was glad he was happy, and she marveled at his improvement. He was a far cry from the stick-thin and despondent man who had first arrived on her doorstep so many weeks before.

  And as she looked in the pier glass, she realized she too had changed beyond recognition. She was not sure how much of her altered appearance might be as the result of her pregnancy, but she looked loved and happy. She knew she had been attractive before, and some would have said beautiful. Alexander's love filled her with a radiance and confidence she had never known.

  She laughed to think what her staid friends would say if she knew half of the fun she and Alexander had when they were alone together. But where two people were in love, there were no boundaries, and Alexander was not a man who could easily accept them.

  It could be hard at times to convince him she was happy, that she had no regrets about being with him, that his condition made no difference to her. She was glad he had overcome his obstacles with regard to making love. She would certainly have missed out on a great deal if he had not.

  But even just holding hands and kissing was such a delightfully arousing experience for her. Sarah had never known such closeness and warmth could exist. And even though it would be difficult raising a child with a blind husband, she knew there were many things he would be able to do for the child, and take delight in doing. He would be a most devoted spouse and parent.

  Also, as she said to him teasingly one day when they had been at Bath nearly a fortnight, "At least I never have to worry about you having a wandering eye."

  He stopped tying his stock, and laughed shortly. "And you, dear? Do I need to worry about you?"

  She smoothed down her gown and patted her elaborate hairstyle. She had thought to venture to the Lower Rooms for the first time that evening. "I was a quiet little spinster before, with nary a beau. A miss without a match. Now I have you. In a room full of hundreds of people, I only have eyes for you, I promise."

  He kissed her, but did not seem reassured.

  "Alexander, please, try to trust me. I know you've been hurt in the past, but I have too much respect for you to ever do anything like that behind your back."

  He sighed. "I'm sorry. I have to admit that here at Bath one does not even need eyes."

  "What?" she asked in surprise.

  "A few ladies have made a couple of interesting suggestions to me, slipped notes in my pocket. I suspect they're not shopping lists. I guess blindness isn't the impediment I thought."

  "I'm not so sure they've discovered your secret. But who knows? You're so charming to everyone that the less attractive ones here probably took heart."

  He covered his mouth to stifle his roar of laughter. "I shall stop being so pleasant, then. I can't rescue every matchless miss in Bath."

  "Don't you dare. But I do want to see you happy."

  He nodded. "As I do you. But I know the way the world works, even if I can't see it. You would tell me if you met anyone else, would you not?"

  She clasped his hand and brought it to her heart, where she pressed it flat. "We are as married as if we had already exchanged vows. There will never be anyone else, not even if you were dead and gone from me. I swear."

  He sighed, and cradled his head against her soft bosom. "It's the same for me. I'm sorry. All these people, these men. You are matchless, as the Middle English poem says. 'I sing of a maid who is matchless.' You're unlike any other woman I've ever met. I don't care if there are a hundred women vying for my attention. My heart is yours, Sarah. Now and forever."

  "One has to be polite if we meet with anyone we know. But if you don't want to go to the Pump Room any more, we needn't bother."

  "No, it's fine. I'm being silly. I trust you. I wouldn't ruin what we have with undue suspicions."

  "Good, then. But I'm sincere about this. If you don't want to go out to the Lower Rooms we don't have to."

  He began to plant a trail of kisses down her neck. "I thought you had your heart set on the ball tonight?"

  "I have my heart set on you taking me to bed, too, darling. I know which is my first choice."

  He kissed her soundly, and clapped her on her rump with a hearty laugh. "Bold wench." He straightened and let her go.

  "However, it wouldn't be fair. You're trigged up in all your finery, and I find that anticipation often heightens the pleasure. So you and I may waltz this evening at the ball, and look forward to all the wonderful things we shall do to each other once we get home."

  She let her hand dip down to stroke him. "Are you sure?"

  "Wanton woman."

  "Never mind the Lower Rooms," she whispered.

  He removed her hand firmly. "You shall just have to wait. I love it when you get so eager."

  "If I get any more eager I won't be able to dance."

  He grinned and took her arm. He helped her on with her cloak, his warm hands lingering on her shoulders intimately. He stopped her from putting in her gloves, though, to her surprise, and barehanded, led her downstairs to the coach.

  Once safely inside, he attempted to relieve some of her eagerness, but as she complained to him breathily, "You can't just lead me on and then leave me like this. It's too cruel. I'm going to squeak when I dance, or leave a puddle somewhere at this point. Oh, Alexander, oh, please. Let's turn around and go back."

  With one last sinuous caress of his tongue deep inside her, he lifted his head, adjusted her underclothes, and smoothed her skirts down. Then he kissed her, his mouth damp and aromatic with her own special light scent of love, and he sparked her desires anew.

  "We won't have to stay long, but I do want to dance with the most beautiful woman in Bath."

  Sarah, in a haze of desire, barely noticed her acquaintances as she walked through the rooms, and tried to stay up on her jellied knees. She barely remembered to put her crumpled gloves on, and noted with relief and regret that Alexander was at last wearing his.

  He chatted away easily, but she could swear there was a twinkle in his eye meant specially for her. They were just in time to find space on the floor for the opening waltz. While they could not join in the quadrille, which required a great deal of interaction with other partners, they got through a polka and a simple country-dance with grace and aplomb.

  "Tea?" she asked at one point much later.

  "Not yet. I want to dance this next one."

  "Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully. "It's a bit fast even for me."

  "Let's have a go, eh? As long as we're here."

  "All right, darling. It'll be fun."

  He was about to lead her on the dance floor when a red-coated figure blocked her way.

  "Miss Deveril, how delightful to see you again. I had no idea you were in Bath."

  "Captain Breedon," she said in surprise. "I haven't seen you for quite some time."

  "I've been visiting with my parents in Gloucestershire. In any event, now that old Boney has abdicated, there's little call for recruitment. I know you and your brother were most ardently opposed to my activities, but then, you've no doubt picked up all sorts of strange ideas from the company you keep."

  It seemed an odd way for him to request an introduction to her companion, whom he was looking at pointedly, but she took the hint.

  "Captain Breedon, may I present my cousin, Mr. Alexander Deveril. Alexander, this is Captain Breedon, stationed outside Brimley. He was a most vigorous recruiting officer in our neighborhood. I'
m pleased to say the war is over now, and they shall all be coming home to the fields where they belong."

  Sarah noticed that Breedon was looking closely at her companion, his eyes narrowed. Was it possible he recognized Alexander?

  "Forgive me, Captain, but do you two know each other at all?" she dared to ask.

  "I don't believe so," he said abruptly. "Is he from around these parts?"

  "Er, no, from the north, near where my sisters have settled," she lied, then blushed.

  He took in her red face, and the way that Alexander was looking at her, and immediately knew the lay of the land between them. Who would have ever imagined it? The vicar's sister with a lover. And him of all people...