Dashing Rogues: A Historical Romance Collection

by Dawn Brower, Amanda Mariel

  She rested her fingers over his elbow, grateful to be ending their conversation despite not learning anything useful. No matter, she still had her ace to play. And play it she would.

  Narissa grinned with the secret knowledge that Brooke and Merlin had topped Banshee’s exercise time. They would win the derby, and the duke would get his comeuppance. Best of all, she would be there to witness every delicious second.

  The secret knowledge would make her victory all the sweeter. Perhaps sweet enough to wash away the bitter taste of not being able to ride Merlin herself.

  CHAPTER 8

  “YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE.” The viper-tongued woman from Seth’s last visit stood, blocking his entrance to Fortuna’s.

  “Lady Narissa will not mind.” Seth attempted a charming smile. “We are friends.”

  The woman squared her shoulders, scowling. “I am quite certain she will, and as such, you are not getting past me.”

  He couldn’t very well manhandle a woman. Even if she weren’t one of Narissa’s friends. He simply was not the sort. Reasoning with her had already failed as had his attempt to charm her. Bloody hell, Narissa surrounded herself with an odd lot. Nearly defeated, he shook his head before resorting to his last tactic. “Then I will find somewhere to relax while you go retrieve her from above stairs.”

  Seth strolled over to an ornate pink and cream settee and took a seat, stretching his legs out in front of him and reclining against the plush back. “I will wait all afternoon and through the night if that is what it takes.”

  The woman dropped her hands from her hips, peering at him. “You will frighten my customers.”

  He arched a brow. “Perhaps. But all the same, I am not leaving until I see her.” He hoped the threat of a man lounging near the fitting rooms all afternoon would be enough to set the woman into motion. If not…

  With a huff, she unlatched the secret door leading to the gaming hell and disappeared into the stairwell.

  Seth stood when the sound of slippered feet drifted toward him from the stairway. A moment later, Narissa appeared, the other woman at her heels.

  He inclined his head in greeting. “My lady.”

  Narissa only frowned before grabbing his arm and pulling him through the shop. She stepped into a room full of fabric and frills. “What the devil are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same.”

  Her eyes rounded as she pushed the door closed behind them. “What are you talking about?”

  “You were due at my house two hours past.” He smoothed his cravat as he studied her. “When you did not arrive, I grew concerned.”

  The genuine relief in his gaze warmed her and her irritation settled a bit. “I sent word. Something of a delicate nature came up here and I could not leave.”

  He’d not received anything of the sort. She was lying. He saw it in her gaze and the way she fidgeted with her sleeve, but why? Was there something amiss? A reason for his concern? “What has happened?” He closed the distance between them and lay a sympathetic hand against her cheek.

  Her eyes blazed. Anger. No. He knew this look all too well. Passion burned in the golden depths of her eyes. He smirked as his own blood heated. The hellion desired him. He stroked her cheek, leaning a notch closer. “Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

  “I-it is not your concern.” She stammered, her cheeks tinting pink.

  He stroked his thumb over her cheek relishing in the reaction she gave. “On the contrary. It is very much my concern.”

  She turned her face, breaking his contact with her silky flesh. “How so?”

  “You are avoiding me.”

  She went rigid. “I assure you, that is the last thing I’m doing.”

  “I disagree.” He leaned closer. “You are afraid because you’re attracted to me.”

  She stepped back, removing herself from his reach. “You have lost your mind.”

  “Prove it.” He came forward, sweeping her in his arms. “Kiss me.”

  “No.” She peered at him through passion-clouded eyes.

  “If what you say is true, you have nothing to fear.” He stared deep into her gaze, sensing a new game was afoot. “On the other hand—”

  She brought her lips to his, cutting off his words. A quick soft press of her luscious flesh to his.

  Pulling back, she attempted to flee, but he held her against him.

  “I do not fear you, nor do I desire you.” She stared defiantly up at him. “In fact, I would rather kiss a toad.”

  Another lie, for the feverish burn of passion radiated from her. “Then you will not object to a more intimate kiss.”

  She angled her chin in answer, and he took full advantage, capturing her lips with his. Sliding his hand down her back to cup her bottom, he deepened the kiss. She softened in his embrace, small whimpers floating from within her as he stroked her tongue with his.

  Good God, this was no game at all. He wanted her. Maybe worse then she wanted him. The realization startled him, but did not dissuade him from exploring her further.

  He pressed her against the wall, allowing her to feel the effect she had on him before trailing tender kisses down her throat to her décolletage.

  She tossed her head back in abandon, her breasts thrusting forward as he licked and suckled her skin. He cupped one full breast in his hand, his thumb stroking the hard nipple concealed beneath the fabric of her gown as he worked to free the other one.

  She moaned, winding her fingers through his hair and holding him against her chest. His erection strained against his trousers. What he would give to lay her down and posses her here and now.

  Through the haze of desire, a creaking sound caught his attention. He released Narissa, shielding her with his body. Heart pounding, he turned toward the door. Bloody hell. Her friend stood there, scowling at him.

  “Josephine?” Narissa inhaled a sharp breath, working to straighten her clothing. “Give us a moment, won’t you?”

  Seth stared at the entrance, his pulse thrumming.

  The wide-eyed woman, Josephine as Narissa had called her, retreated without a word. Seth turned back to Narissa.

  “You must go at once.” Narissa stared at him, her expression giving nothing away.

  He reached for her but dropped his hand when she turned away. He would not push her further. Not today. “I will see you at Epsom.”

  “After which you will refrain from ever bothering me again.” She notched her chin, defiantly.

  He took his leave wondering why she resented him so much. True, blackmail was no way to make friends, but what reason did she have for forcing his hand to begin with? He’d made her a very advantageous offer when he’d attempted to hire her. Furthermore, she was a jockey. Her behavior toward him made no sense at all.

  Seth spent the remainder of the afternoon between trying to figure Narissa out and reliving their intimate encounter before heading to his club where he hoped to drink her off his mind. Now, sitting in his favorite chair at White’s, he stretched his legs out, accepting another snifter.

  “You are in fine form this evening.” Ramsbury took the chair beside him.

  Seth tugged his cravat, loosening the fabric before taking a deep drink of the amber liquor.

  “Care to fill me in?” Ramsbury waited, drumming his finger nails on the table top.

  “I came here to drink, not to prattle,” Seth said.

  Ramsbury lifted a brow in amusement. “That bad is it?”

  Seth drained his glass before slamming it down on the oak table beside him and waving a servant over to refill the tumbler. “Can a man not get foxed without his nursemaid hounding him?”

  “Tisk, tisk. Is there truly any reason for name calling?” Ramsbury chuckled. “This must be worse than I thought. Allow me to guess.” He scratched his chin. “I’ll wager Lady Narissa has much to do with your foul mood.”

  Seth glared at him, raising his snifter to his lips. He did not wish to discuss her, he’d come here to wash her from his mind. There
was nothing he could do where she was concerned. Bloody hell, he’d spent most of the afternoon pondering a way to mend the rift between them. He had no wish to spend the evening doing the same.

  “She reneged on your bargain, and you are too much of a gentleman to follow through with whatever threat you held over her pretty little head? Is that it?”

  Seth glared at Ramsbury. “No.”

  Undeterred, Ramsbury continued. “Then you have developed unrequited feelings for her.”

  “Stuff it, Ramsbury.” Seth tapped his finger on the side of his glass. Perhaps he should take his leave. Seek the solitude of his own liquor at home. Or better yet, a lush whore to sate his desire.

  “But that is not all of it. There is more, right?” Ramsbury leaned his elbows on his knees. “The only way you can have her is to release her from your deal and risk losing the derby. A stinging blow to you pride to be sure.”

  Seth sprang to his feet and began pacing. Why in the hell hadn’t he thought of that? He’d never even considered why she was so against being his jockey. His sole focus had remained on his own desire to win at all costs. Perhaps she had her own reasons. Her own motivations and plans. He turned to Ramsbury. “Thank you.”

  “For what, exactly?” Ramsbury asked.

  “I am not quite sure as of yet.” Seth headed for the door, determined to sober up and fix things between him and Narissa. But how?

  He would find a way. His pride be damned! For in truth he was more than merely attracted to her. Somehow, she’d made him care for her on a deeper level.

  CHAPTER 9

  “YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO HIM.” Josephine handed Narissa a cup of tea.

  “I have been, but this is much more than a passing fancy.”

  Narissa could not shake the kiss she’d shared with the duke. Other men had kissed her, but they had never warmed her blood like he did. What the deuce had she been thinking? His touch sent thrills through her. She ought to have known his kiss would undo her.

  From what she could tell, it had a similar affect on him. His eyes had burned with something more than passion and the gentle yet possessive way he’d held and kissed her spoke of deeper emotions. But then, she could have imagined it.

  Josephine stirred a lump of sugar into her own teacup. “What are you saying?”

  Narissa sighed. “My reactions to him go deeper than lust. He weighs on my mind far too often. Sends my body into a flurry of need when he comes near, and now has me reevaluating what is important to me. For heaven sake, I dream about him. Crave him. And I do not mean his touch alone. I wish to know more about him, his secrets, his hobbies, his dreams.”

  Narissa paused and glanced out the window. Her mind was a jumble, making it hard for her to convey her thoughts. Giving Josephine a weak smile, she continued. “I fear he has…” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “I just don’t know.”

  Josephine stared wide-eyed. “You have fallen in love with him?”

  Could it be love? Narissa was not sure. She had never loved anyone in a romantic sense. She certainly did not feel for him as she did her Papa, nor their horses, or her club. But then what she felt for her club and horses was very different from what she felt for her Papa, and yet, she loved them all.

  She sipped her tea. “How does one know when they are in love?”

  Josephine sat her cup aside and took Narissa’s hand. “Love is an odd thing. It cannot be forced or planned. Sometimes you look at another and are instantly ensnared. For most it takes time. One day you feel nothing, and over the course of getting familiar with someone, feelings blossom and grow. Often you do not even know it is happening, until one day you realize you cannot go another moment without that special person in your life.”

  Narissa pulled her hand back and stood. “Then I do not love the duke. I wish for nothing more than to put Epsom behind me and forget the man.” Her heart hitched as she spoke the words and Narissa could not hide the truth from herself. She’d lied, plain and true for even now she craved the duke’s presence.

  “Very well, but understand this, love…true love, will always find a way.” Josephine gave a sympathetic grin. “Love will not be denied.”

  Narissa nodded as she strolled toward the door. She may well have romantic inclinations toward the duke, but he certainly did not care about her. If he did, he would release her from under his thumb without the threat of exposing her club.

  She could not—would not—love a man who treated her in such an abominable way.

  Not that she hadn’t been underhanded herself. The duke had no idea that Brooke would be riding Merlin. Nor that Merlin had a good chance of winning.

  She nibbled her lower lip. Shame turning her stomach.

  There would be other derbies. Perhaps she should hold Merlin for next spring’s race? One thing was certain; she no longer wished to play dirty. The duke must be made aware of her plan.

  “Where are you going?” Josephine asked.

  Narissa turned back as Josephine sat her teacup aside. “The Duke of Blackmore’s.” Narissa stepped into the hall determined to see him at once.

  “Whatever for?” Josephine rushed after her.

  “To clear my conscience.” Narissa gave Josephine a sideways glance. “Do not fret.”

  “Indeed,” Josephine huffed.

  NARISSA PULLED her cloak tighter about herself as she marched toward the duke’s stables. Despite the bright sun there was a chill in the air. No matter, a little cool air would not dissuade her. The duke’s butler informed her that he’d gone out for a ride, and she intended to find him before her courage failed. Be damned if she’d let anything get in her way now.

  “Good day, Lady Narissa.” The stablemaster bowed.

  “Good day, indeed. Please have a mount readied for me at once.”

  “Will you be training?”

  “No. I intend to chase down His Grace.” She gave the kind man a smile. “Unfortunately, my carriage is not unto the task.”

  “Certainly not.” The stablemaster gave a wide grin, shaking his head. “His Grace is out on Highflier. Shall I have Banshee saddled?”

  “Perfect. Have it done straight away, please. I will be waiting at the mounting block.” The stablemaster nodded, and she heard him call out the orders as she made her way to the mounting block. As she waited, she cast her gaze around the surrounding land seeking her prey, but there was no sign of the duke anywhere.

  With luck, he would not be hard to track. She reached up, patting her chignon, tucking a stray curl into place. What a foolish thing to do. She should not care what she looked like. Besides, the ride was bound to destroy her carefully placed tresses. What a cake she was to fret over her appearance as though she wished to impress him. She didn’t—couldn’t give a whit what he thought.

  A stable boy led Banshee to the block, and Narissa swung onto his back. Once seated, she turned to the boy. “Have you any idea which way the duke rode?”

  The boy shook his head. “He enjoys the trails in Hyde Park, but I cannot be certain. Sometimes he rides toward the country instead.”

  “Very helpful, indeed.” She took up the reins. “How long ago did he depart?”

  “I’m sorry, my lady, I cannot answer that as I was not here.”

  “Thank you all the same.” She gave him a smile as he bowed before walking back toward the stables, then turned her attention to the task at hand—finding His Grace.

  She needed to decide which way to ride. There where several routes he could have taken. If she chose the wrong direction, she could miss him entirely. It was well past the fashionable hour for Hyde Park.

  He could return and be abed for the evening, or out on the ton before she made her way back. Perhaps she should wait here? Her stomach soured. No. She had to find him at once. Her sanity depended on seeing this through.

  Just as she was prepared to set out, the stablemaster rounded the corner with a wooden pail in his hands. Narissa rode nearer to him and inclined her head. “Might you know which way His Grace t
raveled?”

  “He was in a dower mood, My Lady. I’d wager he rode out on the north road. ’Tis a good one for blowing off steam.” The stablemaster pointed.

  Narissa needed no more encouragement. She nodded, then set Banshee into a fast gallop toward the north.

  CHAPTER 10

  NARISSA HAD BEEN RIDING for close to an hour. Dusk was fast approaching, and she hoped to find the duke before nightfall cast the landscape in a veil of darkness. Surely, he would be on his way home—unless he sought entertainment elsewhere. Or had she chosen the wrong route? Perhaps he had already returned from his ride.

  Her chest tightened as she wheeled the possibilities through her head. Perhaps she should return home herself, or go back to his residence. Maybe she should forgo this whole idea and keep her secret guarded. She was no quitter, nor was she a swindler. Determination swelled within her, and she set her sights ahead searching the horizon.

  She’d find him, then she’d clear her conscious. Narissa taped her heals against Banshee’s sides, increasing his pace. If she reached the village with no sign of him, she’d return to his residence and wait for his return. A sound plan indeed.

  Her heart jumped when a group of men and a horse came into view standing in the middle of the road. Pulling on the reins, she slowed Banshee and studied the scene up ahead. A well dressed man on horseback was surrounded by three other less savory looking men.

  As she drew closer, her breath hitched.

  It was Highflier and the duke. Was he being robbed?

  She kicked Banshee back into a gallop, then thought better of it. She could not race up on them. Doing so could make the matter worse. Turning Banshee toward the side of the road, she directed him to a group of hazel trees and prayed she’d not already been spotted.

  She dismounted then secured Banshee to one of the trees. “Do not fret, I will be only a few minutes.” She stroked the horses’ neck, soothing. With little time to spare, she reached into her boot then unsheathed the knife she always kept secured there.