Tenacious Trents 03 - A Reluctant Rake

by Jane Charles

  Millicent didn’t take her eyes off the room and completely ignored Audrey, which she was used to, until two gentlemen moved to stand in front of the open window in the ballroom. Millicent reached forward with the fan raised as if she were going to strike them. Probably to get them to move out of her way. Audrey grasped her friend’s wrist and shook her head. “You can still hear.”

  With a huff Millicent relaxed back into the chair and began fanning herself. Soon the gentleman’s conversation filtered through the open window and Millicent straightened, as did Audrey.

  “I hadn’t seen Trent at Madame’s in some time.”

  “He probably goes later than we.” The man chuckled. “We do prefer the whores at the beginning of the night and not the end, after so many have been there before me.”

  Millicent frowned.

  “True,” the other man agreed.

  “Do you think Trent was visiting Angelique? He never bothered with any of the others.”

  The other man shifted as if he shrugged. “He was in love with her, and might still be. It is too bad a gentleman can’t marry a whore. Think how pleasant home would be.”

  They had to be speaking of Jordan Trent since the other Trent gentlemen were here and had been since Audrey arrived, unless these two gentlemen were speaking of a different evening.

  “No doubt he is still there. He always was one to linger.” The man turned to the side. “Besides, when Trent visits Angelique, he pays for the entire night. I doubt he will show here.”

  They were talking about Jordan Trent and he was with a whore this very moment. Audrey’s stomach churned. Why should she be jealous of a prostitute, unless it was true, that he really did love her?

  Millicent glared at the two men before leaning toward Audrey. “This will never do,” she whispered.

  “There isn’t anything you can do about it,” Audrey reminded her. Even if Millicent had married Trent instead of Lydell, she still wouldn’t be able to keep him from visiting a mistress or brothel. Wives did not have that kind of control.

  “We shall see.” Millicent stood and walked back toward the entrance to the ballroom, tapping her fan against the palm of her hand.

  Audrey blew out a frustrated breath. Why did she care that Trent had not shown at the ball? She certainly didn’t expect him to appear now since the supper dance and the supper had concluded. Soon it would end. Was he attending another ball? Was he still at the brothel? Or, had he left there and gone to Lady Rothsbury?

  And, why should she care? She knew him for the cad he was yet her heart still ached knowing he was enjoying the company of another woman. She was stronger than this and deserved much better.

  Everton approached and bowed before her. Oh dear, it was that late already? This was the last waltz. She took a deep breath and allowed Everton to escort her to the center of the room. There were a few gasps and older ladies tittered behind fans. Perhaps this was not a good idea. Everton did have a scandalous reputation and was she harming herself by allowing him to partner her in a waltz?

  Ridiculous. He danced with any number of debutants at each ball.

  Or perhaps he didn’t. Everton was more likely to be found with a wife or widow. She stared up at him. Why had he asked her? She was not his usual type of partner.

  The strains of the violins began. Everton bowed deeply as Audrey curtseyed. She just hoped her reputation didn’t suffer too much from partnering with him and vowed to be wiser in her choices in the future.

  When he placed his hand at the small of her back, Everton drew Audrey a little too close. She glared up at him and took a step back. Some ladies may prefer to flaunt society rules and dance close to the bounds of propriety, literally, but she was not one of them.

  “Ah, you wish to play games.”

  “I wish to dance,” Audrey retorted. What did he mean by games?

  He executed a turn at the end of the room. Though he danced well enough, he wasn’t nearly as accomplished as Viscount Renway but at least his hands didn’t sweat.

  “Lady Lydell informs me that you and she share a number of interests and are very much alike.”

  Audrey blinked up at him. There was very little she and Millicent had in common other than they had grown up together and were of the same age. “I suppose. We both enjoy the season.”

  He chuckled. “I was referring to activities away from society.”

  She tried to think about what the two of them could possibly both enjoy other than horses, but that was not an unusual entertainment. “We both enjoy riding.”

  They were nearing the opposite end of the dance floor. Wide doors were opened to let in a cool breeze. Instead of turning as he had done at the other end, he waltzed her outside and continued further down a path until they were engulfed in darkness.

  Audrey pushed back away from him. “What are you doing? I insist we return inside immediately.”

  He snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. “I was hoping you would wish to ride?”

  “Now?” Audrey pushed against his chest, panic welled up inside. His hold was tight and she could not break away. “Are you mad?”

  “With desire.” His lips lowered towards hers and Audrey averted her face just in time. It didn’t deter him and he began kissing her cheek and licked her neck. “Ride me.”

  She was going to toss up her accounts if he continued. Perhaps she should, and then he would go away. “Let me go!”

  Jordan entered the ballroom, far later than anyone should arrive, but he couldn’t let this evening end without seeing Audrey. He hoped there was at least one dance left for him. He should not have visited Lord Rowley after leaving Madame Devine’s, but should have gone home, prepared for the ball and come straight here. The task could have been dealt with on the morrow, but he hadn’t expected a visit with Lord Rowley to take so long. In the end Jordan had purchased the land where the brothel sat, at a price twice as much as it was worth, but it ensured the business would remain where it was. It might even become more profitable if Jesters became a successful gentlemen’s club, but Jordan wasn’t about to let that man get his hand on Angelique’s business.

  He paused at the top of the stairs and gazed out over the crush below him. Miss Montgomery had to be here somewhere. A glimpse of pale blonde hair caught his eye amongst those waltzing. It was her and she looked as lovely as ever in the pale rose silk. Jordan’s tension mounted when he realized who she was dancing with. Since when did Everton pay even the slightest attention to innocent young misses? He preferred worldlier women, ladies who would give him a tumble without wanting any more than an hour of his time. The fact that he was with Miss Montgomery, and holding her far too close, set Jordan on edge.

  Jordan stomped down the steps, never taking his gaze from the couple. His pulse pounded as Everton swept her out of the room and onto the terrace. He knew that trick well and had employed it a number of times, but never with an innocent. Jordan picked up his pace as he reached the ballroom, pushing through people to get to the other side of the room and blatantly ignoring those who stepped into his path wishing to speak with him.

  He reached the terrace and scanned the darkness. Her pale dress should be easy to find and then he spied it, just outside the light, masked by foliage. He took two steps in her direction when he heard a yell let go. Jordan darted down the path as rage pulsed through his veins. He spotted Audrey pushing against Everton’s chest and heard his low laugh as he tried to kiss her.

  “Unhand her.”

  They both stilled and looked at him. “Go find your own piece of fluff, Trent,” Everton ground out. “Lady Lydell assured me that Miss Montgomery liked to play though she pretends to fight.”

  Miss Montgomery gasped and a moment later slapped his face. This seemed to only fuel Everton’s desire because he pulled her tight against his body and laughed. “I didn’t realize you enjoyed it rough as well.”

  Her hand came up, her fingers poised and Jordan hastened toward her, still too far away to b
e of service. Yet he hoped he didn’t arrive before she scratched Everton’s eyes out.

  Everton saw her hand and grabbed Miss Montgomery’s wrist at the last moment. She used the distraction to step back and lift her knee. Jordan cringed and could swear he heard the bone of her knee slam into Everton’s bullocks. The man’s knees began to buckle as he drew back a fist, aimed for Miss Montgomery’s flawless face. Jordan reached their side in time to block the blow. He pushed Miss Montgomery out of the way and brought his own fist up and under Everton’s chin, careening his head back into a tree. He collapsed on the ground at Jordan’s feet, moaning and cradling his manhood.

  Jordan turned to look for Miss Montgomery. She was sitting in a bed a violets. “Bloody hell,” he muttered under this breath. He didn’t think he had pushed her so hard. “I am sorry.” He held out a hand to help her rise. “Did I hurt you?”

  She gave him a questioning look. “No.”

  “You fell because I pushed you.”

  She laughed. “I feel because I kept walking backwards and didn’t notice the stones surrounding the flowers and tripped.

  Thank goodness he hadn’t caused her any injury. “Are you sure you are unharmed.”

  “I am fine,” she glanced behind Jordan to Everton. “At least now.” She gazed up into Jordan’s eyes and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Thank you.”

  He took her arm and led her back toward the house, stopping in the light just outside the doors leading to the ballroom. “Whatever possessed you to dance with Everton?”

  Miss Montgomery shrugged. “I didn’t see the harm. I never knew waltzing could be so dangerous.”

  “I suppose I don’t need to warn you to stay away from him.”

  They could still hear Everton moaning and an impish grin came to her face. “I daresay, he will probably avoid me for the rest of his days.”

  “Few ladies know to injury a man in such a way,” Jordan offered with admiration.

  A frown marred her brow. “My father didn’t explain why it would work, but I promised if I ever found myself in a situation such as this I would do what he told me.”

  Jordan simply stared at her. Could she be so innocent that she didn’t understand she’d just completely unmanned Everton?

  He took her arm and led her back into the ballroom but avoided speaking with anyone else and found a few unoccupied chairs in a back corner. Why wasn’t she more shaken over the ordeal? Didn’t she understand what could have happened to her? What Everton was intent on doing to her, despite their protests because Lady Lydell claimed that was the game Audrey played?

  And how could she not know the pain she caused by kneeing Everton in such a manner. Wasn’t she raised on a stud farm? Surely she had glimpsed some of the activities. After all, a stud farm did serve one main purpose and there were a few similarities between humans and horses with regard to mating. It wasn’t as if she were surrounded by geldings. “Did your father let you help him at the farm?”

  A joyful smile formed on her lips and light danced in her brown eyes. “I would always rise early to help papa exercise the horses and whatever else needed to be done. I love riding in the early morning when nobody else is around.”

  He would need to remember this for when they were finally married. Though he loathed leaving his bed in the early morning, having done so for years to keep his activities of becoming a solicitor quiet, he would for Audrey. When they were finished there was no reason they couldn’t return to the comfort of their chamber.

  The bright smile was replaced with a frown. “Everton mentioned riding.”

  “Oh?” Jordan wasn’t sure if he should ask and his gut told him they were discussing two different types of entertainments.

  “I am sure he meant ride with me, but…”

  Jordan placed his fingers against her lips. “Someday it will be explained but trust me when I say he was not referring to horses.”

  The confusion was back on her brow. How did a young woman remain so innocent and sheltered in this environment? On the other hand, if she knew nothing about mating or the anatomy of a male, perhaps she didn’t understand. Yet, how could she not know what was required to achieve the prize pony? “Your father breeds Thoroughbreds?”

  “Oh yes,” she sighed. “Midnight Majesty is in much demand. Horse breeders bring their mares from all over England for the opportunity.” She slumped and frowned. “I’ve always been banned from the stables when there are visitors.”

  At least that answered one question. Had Miss Montgomery been allowed to view even one mounting she wouldn’t be so innocent.

  “Your father owns his own racing stock, does he not?”

  The smile returned. “Yes. We have some beautiful horses. I just wish I could actually participate in the official racing.” She turned to look at him, her brown eyes bright with excitement. “At least papa has let me attend a few races, depending on where they are held.”

  Jordan had never seen her so animated on any subject before. When they were married he would need to provide a stable full of her favorite horses just so she could be a part of what she enjoyed. He might even invest in a few racing horses. “Who trains them? Does your father do it himself or does he hire others.”

  A light blush came to her cheeks. “I am usually their first trainer.”

  Certainly he had not heard correctly. It was far too dangerous.

  “I take them out in the morning and see what type of speed I can get out of them and see how well they handle guidance from my knees or the reins. If they respond well then father has one of his trainers take over until the jockey comes in to prepare for a race.”

  Jordan intentionally kept his voice low. “You don’t ride sidesaddle?”

  Her blush grew darker and she leaned close. “Please don’t tell anyone. Not only would some consider it scandalous but my mother would have an apoplexy.” She quickly glanced around as if she wanted to make sure nobody could overhear them. “As it is, I have to keep my breeches hidden because every time she finds a pair she makes me burn them.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned in. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

  The chuckle welled up in him. And have every gentleman of the ton banging on the door and inviting her to race? Or worse. “I swear. I will keep your secret.”

  She sighed and relaxed and the impish grin returned to her face. “I’ve seen you race, you know.”

  He quirked a brow. He didn’t race in the sense of being a jockey on an official track. The only races he had been involved in were friendly wagers on the roads outside of town. “When?”

  “Last Spring. You and Naughting had made some sort of wager. I just happened to be out that day and saw you.”

  Jordan groaned. He had lost that particular race. Why couldn’t she have seen one that he had won?

  “You held the reigns too firmly.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You were holding on too tight. Your grip needs to be a little looser, to give the horse more freedom.”

  He simply stared at her. Was this young miss giving him advice on riding a horse? He had spent most of his childhood riding.

  No, he reminded himself, she was giving him advice on racing a horse. But weren’t they one in the same?

  “You also weren’t leaning forward far enough.”

  “I wasn’t?” he choked out.

  A worried expression passed across her face. “Oh please, don’t be insulted. I just can’t help myself. There are very few things that I know well, but horses and racing are two of them.”

  He was a gentleman who had always enjoyed being in the saddle and if it would have been anyone else making these comments he might have actually become angry. But, this was Miss Audrey Montgomery and her father owned some of the finest race horses in England. If she had been as involved in their training as she claimed then he should listen to every word of advice she cared to offer.

  “I am not insulted.” He offered her a comforting smile. “I just wish we could find an opportunity for
you to teach me.” He meant every word. “Naughting and I have a standing bet. Each spring we race the other. The date hasn’t been set yet, but I would enjoy beating him this year.”

  Audrey turned in her seat to face him and grinned. “I could help, you know. I watched him as well. He is a heavy rider and it was simply luck that he beat you.”

  “Don’t try to soothe my ego.” Jordan laughed.

  “Oh, I wasn’t,” she said with earnest. “You could beat him. I know you could.”

  “Of that I have no doubt, especially if I had training from you, but I don’t see how that is even possible.”

  Audrey frowned and bit her bottom lip. “There is nowhere we could ride where we wouldn’t be seen.”

  “Not in London.” A vision of he and Miss Montgomery racing down Rotten Row with her riding astride in breeches flashed through his mind. The ton would be scandalized and probably wouldn’t stop talking about the event for months. That would not do. If anyone was going to see Miss Montgomery riding in such a way it would only be him.

  She was glancing about the room, tapping a gloved finger against her chin. What was she thinking? Surely she knew it was impossible for the two of them to race. Suddenly she straightened and grinned. “I will be back in a moment.” With that she was gone and he watched her glide across the room and come to stop before Mr. Slaine, who also happened to own a stable of racers only an hours ride from London. Surely she wasn’t… Jordan couldn’t even finish the thought.

  He wished he could hear what she was saying, but he could certainly see her speaking animatedly and gesturing with her hands. Mr. Slaine threw back his head and laughed at whatever Miss Montgomery had said and their conversation continued in earnest. Jordan could just imagine her asking if she could bring him to the stables to teach him how to properly race a horse. Surely she wouldn’t, would she?

  A moment later Mr. Slaine and Audrey turned to look at him. Good God, she had told him.

  The two began walking back and Jordan stood to greet the man. They had never been introduced but Jordan knew him by reputation.