Challenging A Rake (A Rake's Redemption Book 4)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  “Very well, Mu…”

  A distant thump echoed through the room. Amanda’s stomach fell as her maid froze, her brow creasing in confusion.

  “What was that?” she said as she made a move to pass.

  Amanda quickly put a hand out to stop her. “I opened a window last night, I hoped the fresh air would help me rest. Something outside I should think.”

  Please, she silently begged. Please be quiet you big oaf.

  Molly frowned as she studied her mistress, finally though, she nodded and stepped back. “Of course, Mum. I will inform Cook. And again, thank you for the dress.”

  Amanda’s insides relaxed just the tiniest bit. Oh, how she wished she could spend time with Molly, discussing Mr. Anderson. Two women talking about a man. There was nothing more interesting. But no, she needed to get her away before everything was ruined.

  “Thank you, Molly,” she said as she slowly closed the door then leaned her back against it until she heard her maid's footsteps taking the danger of discovery away. Sighing heavily, she returned to ‘His’ room.

  Looking down at him, her heart melted once again. He was so handsome, so big, he seemed to take up most of the bed, one strong leg exposed outside of the blanket. She had noticed that about him last night, he always had one leg outside of the blanket.

  It had been so strange to sleep in the same bed as someone else. Especially a man. Strange, but wonderful. Reassuring, less lonely. Besides, he was warm. She had thoroughly enjoyed cuddling up next to him and soaking in his comforting heat.

  What was she to do? How could she face him this morning? Here, like this. What did he think of her now? Had he been satisfied with her? Had he found her desirable? What happened now?

  Her face grew warm thinking about the night they shared and her stomach turned over as she stood there studying him, frozen in place, unable to move.

  As if aware of her presence his eyes opened, capturing hers, pinning her to that spot.

  “Good morning Angel,” he said with a smile that made her feel weak.

  “Shush,” she whispered. “Molly is downstairs. You have to leave before she finds out.” Amanda wanted to pace, the nervous energy bubbling inside of her needed an outlet, but his stare still held her in place.

  He frowned for a long moment then slowly lifted the blanket. “Come to back to bed Angel.”

  Amanda caught a brief glimpse of his full erection and her heart slammed into her chest as she felt the need inside of her build. The man wanted her. The man desired her.

  “If we are careful, no one need ever know,” he added with that saucy smile of his that conquered all her fears and trepidations. “Besides, a little danger will only enhance our time together.”

  This would be her last opportunity, she realized. Her one last chance. Before she could talk herself out of it, she let her robe slip to the floor and hurried to join him.

  His smile grew as he pulled her into his arms.

  The man was right she learned, the thought of being discovered did add to the experience.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lord Warwick watched as Amanda bent over to retrieve her robe from the floor. God, did the woman know what she was doing to him. That perfectly round rear end called to every part of him. Demanded his full attention.

  Looking over her shoulder she shot him a quick glance that let him know she knew exactly the impact she was having.

  “If you are not careful I will pull you back into this bed and you won’t leave until your next birthday.”

  She laughed as she slipped into her robe.

  “It is over,” she said with a sad smile. “I know that, but now I have to go on with the rest of my life. And you have to leave. I will be honest, I dreaded your leaving. But now, after this morning. I realize it is necessary.”

  He winced, her words had hurt more than he had expected. “Oh, so that is how it is to be,” he said. “Now that you have used me for your desires. I am to be cast aside like last week’s garbage.”

  She smiled as she came back and sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at him with adoring eyes.

  “Lord Warwick,” she said. “We both know that there is no room in your life for a woman like me. A commoner, with no family connections. Besides, Lord Liverpool has first call on your attention.”

  Who was this woman and why couldn’t more women be like her? Normally, in a situation like this, they would be wondering when they would be together again. Demanding his full attention. Upset when he didn’t give it.

  No, not his Angel. She understood. Yet, the thought didn’t please him as much as it should have. Instead, he felt a slight anger. How could she dismiss him so easily? Their night together had been one for the ages.

  They fit perfectly. Like two pieces of a puzzle.

  “Come,” she said as she patted his hand. “I will dress and call both Cook and Molly into the dining room to discuss something. I can keep them there but a few minutes before they become suspicious. You must sneak out without them knowing.”

  He nodded, it made perfect sense, yet, it felt wrong. Very wrong.

  “And take the maid’s uniform with you,” she added. “If Molly found it she would know something was amiss.”

  He frowned and slowly shook his head. “That’s it then?”

  She smiled sweetly and nodded. But behind her eyes, there was something else. A hidden pain that tore at his soul. His heart turned over as he stared at her. Remarkable he thought once again.

  “Amanda,” he said, as his stomach clenched up. It was important for her to understand what he was about to say. “I want you to know. If you ever need anything. Anytime, anyplace. Please don’t hesitate to call on me. This is not an idle offer. I mean it. If you are ever in need. I am to be informed.”

  She smiled sadly for a moment, patted his hand, then got up to go to her own room. He watched her close the door behind her and sighed heavily.

  This was not how he had expected the morning to go. One moment they were entwined in the greatest of passions. The next she was dismissing him.

  What now? He wondered. Would they only see each other at the occasional gala? One night, she had said. That was all she had wanted. But how could that be? He wanted more, many more such nights.

  His mission, he reminded himself, pulling himself back to reality. He must focus on his mission. Liverpool was demanding results and quickly. Every day, information continued to flow to the French. Information that could turn the tide of the war against them.

  No, Amanda was right, he didn’t have time to become involved. He couldn’t risk what it might do to the mission. Besides. It would also put her at risk. If his enemies knew of his feelings for her, she could be used against him.

  Sighing heavily, he got out of bed and got dressed. Yet as his fingers fumbled with his buttons he stopped for a moment and remembered their night together.

  A soft click next door let him know she was headed downstairs.

  No goodbye, no farewell kiss. The sense of loss hit him hard. Why couldn’t she have taken a moment to see him off?

  Finishing getting dressed. He opened his door and peeked out in time to see the top of Amanda’s head disappearing down the steps.

  Giver her a moment, he thought as he snatched her maids uniform from the floor. Give her time to get her people into the dining room. Then he would be away.

  Once again, a sense of loss flowed into him. This was not right. On so many levels, this was not right.

  .o0o.

  Amanda fought to keep her head high and a tear from her eyes. If she started crying now both Cook and Molly would never rest until the found the truth. Biting the inside of her lip, she settled into her chair and asked Molly to get Cook so that they could talk.

  Molly shot her a quick questioning glance but held her tongue as she curtsied and hurried to do as she had been told. A moment later, she and Cook returned to the room.

  Amanda held her breath, this was it. Was Warwick ready? Could he get out wit
hout being discovered? Would he make any noise? No, not him, the man moved like a large cat. Like a lion stalking its prey.

  She looked at her two servants. Both of them looked back at her expectantly. Why had she called them in? What did she need to discuss that demanded their attention at that moment.

  Her heart jumped. Was that the creek of a floorboard?

  Molly had heard it as well, the curious expression on her face as she turned towards the sound confirmed it. Amanda’s stomach fell. No, Please God, let him get away.

  “I’ve decided to hire a footman,” she said hurriedly, pulling their attention back to her. Both of them smiled, obviously pleased with her decision. Please, she said in her mind over and over as she tried to hide her fear from the two other women.

  “That will be nice Mum,” Molly said.

  Amanda sighed, there had been no more noises from the hall. Had he made it? Was he gone? A sudden sense of sadness washed over her, pulling her away from what she should be focused on, keeping their attention.

  “Yes,” she continued. “I don’t want to go to an agency. Not if I don’t have to. I wondered if either of you might know someone.”

  Both of them looked at each other. Cook shrugged her shoulders. “I’d ask my Harry, but I can’t tolerate the idea of the both of us working in the same house. Having him here all day and at home too? It’d drive me round the bend.”

  Amanda laughed. Cook’s husband was a sweet, kind man and she knew for a fact that the woman adored him. But she liked to pretend that he was a bother. Shaking her head, Amanda smiled to herself, whoever knew the inner workings of a married couple. She wondered. Each must come to their own arrangement.

  Molly bit her lip as she hesitated to say anything.

  “Go on, Molly,” Amanda said encouragingly. The longer they talked, the better chance Warwick had to escape.

  “I could ask Arthur, Mum.”

  “Arthur?” Amanda asked.

  “Mr. Anderson, Mum. I know he would like to find different work. The only reason the doctor has him is to move people around. He finds it … not enough.”

  Amanda balked, the hope in Molly’s eyes told her all she needed to know. The maid loved the idea of her potential bow working here. But what if it didn’t work out between them. Then the tension in the house would become unbearable.

  Yet, if it did work out. She could keep both retainers working here. Her life need not be disturbed by the loss of Molly.

  “That one?” Cook said with surprise. “In a footman’s livery? He’d eat us out of house and home.”

  Molly frowned as her brow knitted with anger. Before she could respond, Amanda interjected. “Yes, but just think, we would never need to fear of being attacked in our home. One look at Mr. Anderson and no brigand would dare bother us.”

  Molly smiled widely.

  “Yes,” Amanda said as she came to a decision. Warwick’s easy access the other night had proven just how vulnerable they were. “Yes,” she said again, “Please ask Mr. Anderson if he might be interested. And you can assure him, there will be no livery. I can’t imagine a man as large as him dressed in red and gold. It would be … too much, shall we say.”

  Molly’s smile widened even further, “Yes, Mum. I will.”

  Amanda sighed as she silently listened. Surely he was away by now. Gone, to return to his own life. The sick feeling of loss that seeped into her soul made her want to start crying and never stop. But she held it together long enough to dismiss her staff.

  Once they had exited, she let one lonely tear fall.

  He was gone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lord Warwick leaned his cane against his desk and sat down. He must return it to Amanda, he thought as his heart jumped just a little at the thought of seeing her again. Nine days, he thought. Nine days since he had snuck out of her house like a thief in the night.

  He no longer needed the cane, yet he held onto it, unwilling to part with it for some unknown reason. It was surprising to him how often he thought of her. He found himself wondering what she was doing. What did she think of him? Was she safe?

  Shaking his head, he scoffed at himself. He was a rake, he reminded himself. He and his friends had cut a wide swath through the ton. Mostly widows, and fallen women. Women who understood the rules.

  Yet, Amanda was different. She had dismissed him, assured him she would make no demands. Yet he found himself wishing she would. Wishing she needed him. For something. Anything.

  Upon his return home, he had contacted Sanderson, his lead operative and ordered him to have a man keep an eye on Amanda’s home. Just to make sure there were no ramifications from their inspection of Barclay’s. No one must know of her assistance in this matter. And if they learned of Amanda’s assistance, then his men needed to be in place to ensure nothing happened.

  Pulling out the leather bound portfolio, he started examining the reports of his men. He had stationed them all through London. Reporting back to him the movements of Lady Simpson, Lord Hicks, and even Freddie Bartholomew, but until he matched the three set of remaining initials to actual people, there was little he could do.

  If he moved too early against Hicks, the unknown traitors would disappear. And while he might be able to discover the truth from Hicks. Torturing a duke’s son was frowned upon. Liverpool and the Regent couldn’t afford to upset the House of Lords. Not at the moment.

  It would do no good to squeeze Lady Simpson and Freddie, they wouldn’t know anything. Hicks would keep them all separate just so nothing could be discovered.

  No, he must have an iron clad case and he must have all of their names. But how? he wondered for the thousandth time.

  As he studied the papers in front of him his mind began to wander. What would Amanda make of all this? Perhaps she could see some pattern that eluded him.

  His butler Peters rapped on the door and stepped into the room.

  “Miss Olivia’s, … I am sorry. Lady Bradford’s invitation you were waiting for, My Lord,”

  Warwick took the envelope without saying a word. Bradford and Olivia were back in town and would be giving a ball. They always did upon their return. He needed to know when.

  Opening the envelope, he nodded to himself. Thursday of next week. Good.

  Sitting back he reviewed his plan. Peters waited silently, he had learned long ago to let his Lordship alone at moments like this.

  Whoever had shot him, most likely at Lord Hicks orders. May or may not know he had survived. It was probably best that he assume they knew he still lived. He wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near Hicks.

  Yet, he needed to talk to the man. Needed to put fear into his soul. Perhaps that would make the man make a mistake. Give away some hint, expose a vulnerability.

  “Peters,” he said to his butler. “Can you please ask my mother to send a note to Lady Bradford and request an invitation be sent to Lord Hicks.”

  His butler frowned as he studied him for a moment then said, “My Lord, you are aware that Lady Bradford is here now, visiting your mother.”

  “What?” Lord Warwick said as he sat up straight.

  “Yes, My Lord, along with Lady Weston, and Miss Waters. They are in the parlor.”

  “What?” he said again as he scrambled up and headed towards the door. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The butler frowned. “Does My Lord wish to be informed about all of his mother’s visitors?”

  Lord Warwick pulled himself to a halt as a cold shiver passed down his spine. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in his mother’s life. Shaking off the thought, he turned to his butler. “No Peters. But anything dealing with Miss Waters and I am to be informed immediately.”

  Peters nodded slowly. “Of course, My Lord.”

  Warwick wondered if that was a small smirk hidden behind his butler's eyes. Surely not. British butlers did not smirk. At least not in their employer's presence.

  Lord Warwick ignored his butler as he snatched up Amanda’s cane, then thoug
ht better of it and returned it to its resting place before he hurried to the parlor. When he reached the parlor door, a sudden nervousness hit him like a cold slap in the face.

  Shaking it off, he opened the door without knocking. The four women turned to see who had dared interrupt them. The four of them arranged around a tea set, each with a cup and saucer in their hands. He sighed internally when he caught the shock on Amanda’s face. Good, he wasn’t the only nervous one.

  He smiled widely and bowed to them formerly. “Excuse me, Ladies,” he said, “Peters has just informed me that you were here or I would have stopped by earlier.”

  His mother frowned at him while her guests each smiled their welcome at him. Lady Weston looked her normal frail self. But then the woman had looked frail and at death’s door for the last twenty years. She’d probably outlive them all.

  Olivia looked hail and hearty. Married life and motherhood suited her. She glowed with happiness.

  He slowly glanced at Amanda, she met his eyes for but a moment then quickly looked away. Why? He wondered. Was that guilt, or some other emotion she was trying to hide. He did notice that Olivia was observing them very closely.

  Had Amanda told her friend of their time together. Women talked. But… No, he realized. Amanda would not have told her friend.

  He must be careful with that one. Olivia had always been very observant and had a mind like a steel trap, nothing got by her. One hint of his liaison with her friend Amanda and she would be making reservations at St. Paul’s for a large wedding.

  Why did that thought not terrify him as much as it should have?

  “What do you want Warwick?” his mother asked with her world famous frown. “And don’t pretend you are being social. You despise such things.”

  “Mother,” he said as if she had hurt him dearly. “Can’t I check in with my best friend’s bride. How is Bradford, by the way, My Lady.”

  Olivia smiled broadly. “He is currently taking his son to the park.”

  Lady Weston gasped. Olivia smiled at her. “Don’t worry, he is accompanied by the nurse and two footmen. I am sure he will be fine.