Rules for Reforming a Rake

by Meara Platt

  He retrieved the knife he kept hidden in his boot and checked to see that it was sharply honed.

  “What are you doing? You won’t use that thing on Lord Malinor, will you?”

  He arched his eyebrow, which made him look quite menacing. “Give me a reason not to.”

  “I’ll give you several. First, the matter is trivial,” she lied. “Second, it’s obvious you’re about to leave on your hunt, so go. Taking the time to carve England’s finance minister into little pieces will only land you in prison, and that will throw your important plans into disarray. Third, with you in prison, Graelem will be forced to take your place on this so-called hunt. I don’t think it’s a good idea just now.”

  Gabriel followed her gaze to Laurel’s rounded belly and uttered a soft curse before returning the knife to its sheath in his boot. “I still want to know why you’re in such a state.”

  “I’ll tell you, but only if you promise to do nothing about it.”

  His jaw twitched.

  “Gabriel, I need your promise.”

  He refused to give it.

  Daisy frowned at him. “Why are you being so difficult?”

  “I don’t make promises I know I can’t keep.”

  Because he was an honorable man. He’d insisted on acting honorably with her, even last night with the kisses they’d shared in Lady Baldridge’s garden... She’d always treasure those kisses stolen in the moonlight... though she’d offered him far more. To be precise she’d offered her heart and her body, and she might have blurted something about binding her soul to his forever. A little excessive, she supposed. Not that it mattered. He’d touched her and aroused her, but he’d refused to take her innocence, claiming it was for her own good, though he’d been hot and hard and wanting.

  She was inexperienced in matters of the heart, but she wasn’t an utter ninny. She knew a noble sacrifice when she saw it, and Gabriel had nobly sacrificed to keep her chaste. Perhaps it did not amount to a declaration of love, but that look of agony on his face as he’d pulled back and eased her out of his arms had to mean something, even though he’d told her repeatedly and adamantly that it hadn’t.

  “Very well. I promise not to hurt him,” he said, as though understanding the direction of the thoughts whirling madly in her head, and perhaps feeling some responsibility for her distress. “What has he done?”

  She took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “More precisely, it’s what his son has done under the father’s urging, I suspect. Auguste Malinor has asked for my hand in marriage.”

  Laurel inhaled sharply. “No!”

  “Bastard,” Graelem muttered. “I knew he was up to no good.”

  He and Gabriel exchanged glances.

  Daisy shifted her gaze between them. “Did you know about his plans?”

  The men traded looks again.

  “Gabriel, please say something.”

  His cousin was the one who finally spoke. “Daisy, did you accept him?”

  She didn’t immediately answer, too intent on staring at Gabriel and wishing he would curse or threaten or fly into a jealous rage, but he just stood there as silent as a tomb. Did he not care? Had she misunderstood his motives in Lady Baldridge’s garden last night?

  I must have.

  A man in love would fly into a jealous rage.

  Daisy found his silence shattering.

  Finally, he spoke. “Did you, Daisy?”

  She shot to her feet, her fists clenched at her sides. “Of course not! I love you, not him. How could you think I’d ever consider him as a prospect?”

  “I didn’t.” He rubbed his hand roughly across the nape of his neck and cast her a grim smile that made her want to reach out and kiss him passionately even though she was not kindly disposed toward him at the moment.

  “The problem is, my father is determined to accept on my behalf. He claims it is for my own good.”

  Laurel gasped. “How is it possible? We Farthingales always marry for love.”

  “Well, that rule isn’t written in stone, is it? Even if it were, the family refuses to believe I know my own mind. They consider me a fool. And since I’m considered a fool, they’re going to make this decision for me.”

  “Because of The Incident?” Laurel imitated her stance, clenching her own hands into fists. “This is all my fault. You poor thing. How awful for you... and how brave of you to hold your ground against the entire family. I’ll tell them the truth about Devlin Kirwood, that it was me, not you, who almost made the worst mistake of her life. It’s time they were told what really happened.”

  Daisy’s eyes rounded in alarm. “Don’t!”

  “You can’t protect me any longer, sweetie. I was wrong to let you shoulder the blame for this long.”

  “But Graelem—”

  “Has known I was the one meant to elope with Devlin. I told him all about it before we married.” She cast her husband the softest smile. “I couldn’t take sacred vows with that lie standing between us. I ought to have told the family elders as well, but I thought the matter was quickly forgotten. I’ll fix my mistake right now.”

  She marched to the bell pull to summon a servant, but Gabriel stopped her. “It’s no use. They’ll never believe you.” He turned to glance at Daisy. “They’ll think Laurel is lying to save your hide. Don’t you see? The timing is suspect.”

  “I’ll make them believe me,” Laurel insisted.

  Gabriel shook his head. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. They’ve made up their minds about Daisy and nothing you say will change what they wish to believe. The more you protest, the more entrenched they’ll become, and they’ll blame Daisy for putting you up to it.”

  Laurel let out a deflated sigh. “It isn’t fair.”

  “Life never is,” he muttered.

  Laurel pursed her lips, then stared at her belly a long moment before glancing up and pinning her gaze on Gabriel. “I know how you can fix this.”

  “How?” he asked.

  “Marry Daisy. After all, she’s in this predicament partly because of you. I’d marry her if I could, but I’m her sister. I don’t think England is quite that progressive yet.”

  Daisy wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “You can’t ask Gabriel to marry me.”

  “Why not? Don’t you love him? You just proclaimed it.”

  “Of course I do. But he doesn’t love me.” She swallowed hard, surprised when Gabriel took her into his arms and turned her to face him. “Nor will I accept you,” she insisted, “so don’t even think to make the sacrifice. I’ll solve the problem myself... run away... paint warts on my nose... I’ll think of something.”

  “Unacceptable,” Laurel said, glowering at Gabriel. “How can you allow my sister to compromise her heart?”

  Graelem groaned. “That’s what I love about you, Laurel. Tact, you’re just bubbling over with it.”

  “My sister’s in pain because of your cousin. Am I supposed to stand by and say nothing while he breaks her heart?”

  “Now, wait a moment. Gabriel never made her any promises.”

  “So what if he didn’t? It’s his fault as much as it is mine.” Laurel turned to her husband with fists once again clenched.

  Daisy let out a sob. “Laurel, please! I need you to remain calm and speak to Father as soon as possible, before he does the unthinkable and gives his consent.”

  Graelem nodded. “I’ll go, Daisy. Stay here with your sister and don’t despair. Your father loves you. He won’t force you to marry against your will.”

  “Won’t he?” She turned away and buried her head against Gabriel’s shoulder. He felt so warm and solid, so reassuring in the tender way he held her.

  “Take a deep breath,” he murmured, gently stroking her hair.

  Tears began to spill down her cheeks.

  He stroked her hair again, his touch so soft it only made her ache more. “Daisy, I can’t bear to see you cry.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  He sighed. “Take
my handkerchief.”

  She thanked him, and wished she had never met him. Perhaps then she might have accepted Auguste, not knowing any better and believing love was a companionable emotion, not a hot, desperate feeling that seized you in its grip and shook the stuffing out of you... in a wonderful way, of course. “It isn’t your fault that you’ve spoiled me—”

  Laurel gasped. “You ruined my sister?”

  Gabriel emitted a strangled oath. “I haven’t been much of gentleman around Daisy, but I was most careful about that. Can’t you see she’s overset and doesn’t know what she’s saying?”

  “I meant that his kisses have spoiled me,” Daisy explained amid sniffles and tears that she seemed unable to control. “But I would have surrendered had he bothered to seek more.”

  “Oh.” Laurel coughed.

  “Well, I would have. I’m not ashamed of my feelings.”

  Gabriel’s expression became pensive, troubled. “The Malinors are up to something. Auguste’s father approached me several nights ago, curious about my intentions toward you.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That I had no interest in you. That I had no intention of ever marrying, and if I did, it wouldn’t be to someone like you,” he said with a wince. “I didn’t mean it, of course. It was foolishly said in order to maintain—”

  “Your facade as a wastrel? I know.” Daisy nodded, still in his arms and loving the protective way he held her.

  “I thought nothing more of the conversation.” He glanced over the top of her head to look Laurel in the eye. “Daisy was surrounded by admirers at the time, and I believed Malinor was just making idle chatter. I never suspected he desired her for his son. Auguste’s a heartless, ambitious bastard, just like his father. If he offered for anyone, I assumed it would be for a duke’s daughter, someone closely related to the royal family... not the daughter of a commoner. Had I realized his intention, I would have—”

  “Called him out,” Laurel said with an approving nod. “Run him through with your blade. Shot him. Beat him to a bloody pulp.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Taken responsible measures to protect Daisy.”

  “That seems innocent enough,” Graelem said, donning his jacket as he prepared to leave for the Farthingale residence.

  Laurel rolled her eyes. “Oh, I see. Gabriel is your cousin, therefore he’s absolved of all guilt?”

  Daisy sighed. She knew her sister well enough to realize that when Laurel felt guilty and frustrated, she wasn’t always the most reasonable person. “No one’s to blame. It just happened. Now, I need it to unhappen.”

  “Your predicament is clearly Gabriel’s fault. He just said so himself.”

  Graelem frowned. “It isn’t his fault at all. He didn’t force young Malinor to offer for Daisy.”

  “Graelem, are you blind to what’s really going on? If what Gabriel says is true, then why would Auguste Malinor want to marry Daisy? Is it a cruel hoax? A means to get back at Gabriel?”

  Graelem shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” Laurel asked, still glowering. “Gabriel showed interest in Daisy.”

  “You’re wrong. He went out of his way to keep his distance from Daisy.”

  “Is that so? Well, I think he did a very poor job of it. Had he properly resisted, Daisy would not have fallen in love with him. But she did, and the Malinors noticed, and now my sister will be forced to marry someone she doesn’t love... or worse, marry someone who doesn’t love her, but covets her because she belongs to Gabriel. You gentlemen must be quite proud of yourselves.”

  “Now wait a moment, love. You can’t—”

  “I can and I will.” Laurel clapped her hands and waddled closer to Gabriel. “You’re going to marry Daisy. Right now. Wake the magistrate and obtain the special license.”

  “Impossible,” Graelem and Gabriel said at the same time.

  “Nothing is impossible when love is involved.” Laurel reached for a teacup on the nearby buffet and raised it as though to throw it at her husband’s head, or Gabriel’s. Daisy wasn’t quite certain. Perhaps she meant to hit both.

  “Laurel!” a voice rang out.

  “Father!” She set down the teacup with a clatter. “Graelem and I were just coming to see you.”

  Daisy saw that her father looked haggard. His eyes were bloodshot, as though he’d been crying. Of course, it wasn’t possible. He never lost his composure, though his silver hair did appear a little windblown and he’d neglected to put on his coat, another sign of his distraction. Uncle George stood beside him, his arms folded over his chest, and he was scowling at her.

  Daisy realized that she was still in Gabriel’s arms. She tried to step away, but Gabriel wouldn’t let go of her. What was he doing?

  “I hoped to find you here, but didn’t expect to find him with you,” her father said, tossing a frown at Gabriel.

  The two men were of similar height though Gabriel was significantly more muscular. She knew Gabriel would never harm her father, but wasn’t certain that her father would restrain his temper. He’d been through a difficult night and finding Gabriel here—and her nestled at his side—only made matters worse.

  Not Gabriel’s fault, of course. Except now, he was purposely goading her father by keeping his arm about her waist. Her father was responding to the goading, his face red with anger and fisted hands raised.

  Daisy’s heart sank.

  This night could not possibly get worse.

  “I know there’s much to explain,” Daisy began in a rush, before any of the men spoke. “I’m just not sure where to begin. Truth is, I’m not sure about anything right now.”

  “Be quiet, Daisy. I’m interested in what Lord Dayne has to say,” her father said, his lips stretched in a tense, thin line, “as soon as he takes his hands off you.”

  “Yes, Gabriel. Please let go of me. My father won’t hurt me. He loves me.” When he finally did so, Daisy approached her father. “Please give me time to sort things out. I’m not trying to cause problems for you or Mother. Nor do I wish to disappoint Julia. I love you all.”

  “I know, child. We love you, too.” His lips began to quiver, and Daisy knew she’d turn into an insipid, blubbering fool if her father shed a single tear. This was all her fault. All of it. She’d broken his heart. She’d broken her mother’s heart. She’d disappointed her entire family and continued to disappoint, even now. She was a willful, disobedient, and unappreciative daughter.

  Yet still her parents loved her despite her open defiance, which only made her feel worse. What she needed was a book on how to reform a wayward debutante, not rules on reforming a rake. She hadn’t reformed Gabriel. Quite the opposite, she’d begged him to ruin her, to have his wicked way with her as often and as thoroughly as possible. “Papa,” she said in a ragged whisper, unable to utter more for the lump in her throat.

  “My Daisy. My sweet, beautiful child. I love you so much.”

  Would she ever hear those words from Gabriel? Could she ever say those words to Auguste Malinor? He was far too political and they’d never suit. She spoke her mind and would embarrass him because, as a Farthingale, she had never mastered the art of keeping her opinions to herself.

  She let out a ragged breath and then began to speak between sniffles and tears. “I wanted so much to make you proud of me. I had such hopes at the start of the season. I was going to marry the perfect man, someone honorable and heroic, rich, perhaps titled. Someone you’d approve of, because I thought that if you were proud of him, then some of that pride might just rub off on me. Oh, perhaps not right away, but in time.”

  “Daisy, I know we were a little hard on you.” Her father’s scowl began to fade. “I only want what’s best for you. You’re my beloved daughter and I can’t bear to see you so unhappy.” He paused a moment to clear the scratch in his own throat. “Your mother acted rashly in shipping you off to Laurel and will soon come to regret it. However, I think it’s best you remain here for now. Laurel
will need a gentle hand to guide her through the birth.”

  Laurel readily agreed.

  “As for attending the upcoming balls, I know your mother has forbidden you to attend any social engagements until further notice, but I’ll speak to her and explain why she must rescind that decision.”

  “Mother did me a favor, really. I’m not interested in the social whirl.”

  He nodded again. “Well, you let me know when you are and I’ll take care of any objections from the family.”

  She intended to hug him, but he stopped her with a stern wave of his hand. “We’re not finished yet.”

  “Oh.” He could be stubborn at times. Wonderful and stubborn.

  “I would prefer to issue this word of caution in private, but I suppose it really doesn’t matter. You’ll tell all to Laurel, who’ll tell all to Graelem and your sisters anyway. The point is, Lord Malinor is a very important man, one with wealth, power, and position. As his daughter-in-law, you would gain entry into the highest circles. You’d become a viscountess, one of the ton’s leading ladies should you desire it.”

  “I don’t.”

  “George didn’t think you would,” he muttered, glancing at his brother, who was still standing beside him with arms crossed over his chest. “I didn’t either, but had to be sure. Daisy, you must realize that such men are not to be rejected lightly.”

  She nodded. “Believe me, I do. I sincerely wish I could marry him, but it simply won’t work.”

  “His father drinks to excess and dresses like a peacock,” Laurel chimed in, “and we all know the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Her father rolled his eyes. “Be quiet, Laurel.”

  “And I think there’s something odd going on with the Malinors,” Daisy said. “Did you know someone tried to—”

  “You’re mistaken,” Gabriel said with quiet urgency.

  “But I know what I saw in the park.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Her father’s gaze darted from Graelem to Gabriel before resting back on her. “Am I missing something?”

  “I suppose not. Never mind, Papa. It isn’t important.” Obviously, Gabriel didn’t want her to discuss the shots fired in the park. Everyone, even Lord Malinor, seemed eager to keep the incident quiet. Perhaps it had something to do with England’s preparation for war, but no one was about to confide in her. “What I tried to convey rather ineptly last night is that Auguste Malinor does not strike me as someone who would accept anything less than total obedience from his wife and you know that I’m incapable of being obedient.”