The Rake's Redemption

by Sherrill Bodine

  He was a fool to think that she could overlook the dark secrets of his past, the whispers that would follow her about his reputation. Yet, strangely, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words that would push her away from him forever.

  The candle had sputtered out on its own and the room was now dark. Dominic walked through the library doors and confidently shut them behind him.

  Fool he might have been. But he was not fool enough to ride alone with Juliana. Tomorrow a groom would accompany them.

  Chapter 10

  Juliana woke early. The sweet anticipation of her ride with Dominic led her to avoid the breakfast room and wander out into the kitchen garden. The day was full of promise: sunshine already overrode the remaining clouds of dawn. She strolled through the neat rows of vegetables and marveled at the difference she felt within her. Dominic had kissed her again! And, although he had seemed a bit distracted afterwards, he had asked her to ride with him. She was not feeling alone now.

  “Juliana,” a voice cried out from behind her.

  She looked back to the house. George and Charlotte walked purposefully toward her.

  “You’re up awfully early m’dear.” George smiled happily at her. “Like to join us?”

  “Yes do,” Charlotte offered impulsively. “We’re going to visit the succession houses this morning. Then later we’re going to tour the home farm and have a picnic lunch.”

  “I’m sorry but I have other plans.” Juliana shook her head, she knew they would rather be alone anyway.

  She watched them walk away. Charlotte pointed at a huge rhubarb plant and gently placed her hand on George’s arm. He laughed at her enthusiasm, then took her hand in his and they walked off companionably.

  Juliana smiled to herself, satisfied that all was right with her world. No one would be alone—Rodney and Aunt Sophia, herself and Dominic, and now it looked very much like George and Charlotte.

  Sophia and her future mother-in-law were seated next to one another on the periwinkle blue damask sofa in the library of the Towers. Sophia felt very much like the early Christians must have before they faced the lions. The duchess had such a sweet smile but what a tongue! Sophia had actually felt herself blush with embarrassment three times already, but this time Rodney’s mother had gone too far!

  “Your Grace,” Sophia said softly, forcing herself to remain calm. “The question of my producing an heir for Rodney has never been discussed between us.”

  “It should have been!” the duchess declared. “All I want to know is … is it possible?”

  “Yes.” Sophia snapped, completely flustered. “But…”

  The duchess held up her hand. “I have said my final word on the subject. Only wanted to know if I’m at last going to have another grandchild. Been quite awhile you know. Dominic is twenty-nine.”

  “I should think, Your Grace, that you might be setting your sights on becoming a great-grandmother,” Sophia said brightly, happy to turn the subject elsewhere.

  “I have been giving it a great deal of my attention. I thought Charlotte would do. Family connection and all, even if her mother is a horror. Was wrong though,” said the Duchess with a decisive sniff. “Charlotte obviously isn’t interested.”

  “And Dominic?” Sophia asked eagerly, curious to know if the duchess was as shrewd as she appeared.

  Sophia felt absurdly young when the duchess eyed her sternly. “You know as well as I do where his interests lie. They were both glowing when they came back from the gardens. Haven’t seen Dominic look like that since before…”

  Shaking her head, the duchess suddenly looked every one of her seventy years. “I have been quite concerned about Dominic’s matrimonial prospects. He could have had any chit in the ton with a snap of his fingers when he was younger. Now … well … I still have some influence. But he’s never shown the slightest inclination. Until this.”

  The duchess’s fingers shook ever so slightly when she lifted the gold-edged teacup to her lips and sipped deeply. Sighing, she continued, “Juliana would be a suitable match. Fine family. Beautiful young widow, but it won’t do. Charles saw to that. Soiled goods, that is what Charles would have called her. Disgusting phrase, I know, but one on which Dominic was brought up. His father and mother ruined him for her. God forgive them.”

  Juliana pressed herself against the roughness of the stone wall outside the open French doors to the library, her hands clenched to her stomach. She had not meant to eavesdrop, but when she had walked onto the stone terrace, her aunt’s voice linking her name to Dominic’s had drawn her. She had never dreamed that what she learned would drive away the brightness of the sun and the beauty of the day. She was filled with a cold emptiness. Just this morning she had thought this emptiness gone forever, remembering all that had happened in the garden. It had been a miracle—believing Dominic felt something real for her. And now this.

  How could his grandmother say this? Soiled goods? Ruined? He was ruined—for Juliana or for any woman? He couldn’t be ruined. They wanted him in the House of Lords. Juliana had seen all the lures cast him in London. So it wasn’t Dominic’s fault. Then it must be hers. Confused beyond bearing, she pushed herself away from the wall and stumbled across the terrace, eager to put distance between herself and the hateful words she had overheard.

  Bucephalus pawed restlessly upon the cobbled stable yard when Juliana arrived. Dominic, holding the reins of an ebony mare with a white blaze across her forehead, was turned away speaking to the groom and did not even see her.

  Miserable and near tears, the duchess’s words ringing in her ears, something broke inside her. Snatching Bucephalus’s reins from the startled stable boy, Juliana threw herself onto the nervous horse and thundered out of the yard before anyone could stop her. She heard shouts but didn’t let up in the slightest, instead she urged the magnificent stallion out into the Kent countryside.

  Bucephalus broke into a crisp, steady gallop that loosened her curls to stream out behind her.

  A low wall loomed suddenly in her path, but Juliana felt no fear as the horse obeyed her touch and sailed easily over it. Once she glanced back over her shoulder, but no pursuer was in sight. Later she would face Dominic and apologize for taking his horse. Now she just needed to be alone.

  The wind whipped at her face. She left the path, not wanting to meet anyone. Mile after mile she rode through lush fields and glades rippling with high grass and summer flowers. Finally she spied a small stream. Slowing Bucephalus to a walk, she crossed a narrow covered wooden bridge. On the other side, cut in a wide green hollow, was a flat pasture through which the stream wove, deep and slow between clay banks. Rooks cawed by their nests in the big trees along the water. The branches rustled overhead casting downward a light-leaved net of shadows. No other creature was in sight.

  The sweetness of the air, the newly washed smell of everything, the thrushes going wild in the hawthorns, conspired to draw her to this peaceful haven. Sliding off Bucephalus’s back, she patted his muzzle.

  “What a wonderful animal you are,” she muttered before wrapping the reins around a narrow sapling. She left him grazing in the soft grass and went to sit on the bank. Her hat hung heavily on her neck, so she flung it aside and laid down in the lilies of the valley growing wild under the trees. For only a moment she would enjoy the beauty around her and let it hold at bay all the dark thoughts crowding the edges of her consciousness. She welcomed the warmth of the summer’s day, although it made her feel drowsy. She had barely closed her eyes all night, so now sleep came and with it welcome forgetfulness.

  She hadn’t heard him approach. The first she was aware of his presence was his hoarse voice calling her name and his hands roaming freely over her person.

  Her eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright in shocked recoil. “How dare you while I sleep!”

  Finding herself once more laying in the flowers,
but now imprisoned in Dominic’s arms, she felt his hard chest shudder and then, incredibly, heard laughter.

  “Why are you laughing?” she demanded, confused, her sleep-numbed thoughts trying to focus properly.

  “Asleep!” he sputtered. “I thought the damn horse had thrown you! I was feeling for broken bones. I’ve been searching for you for hours.”

  She suddenly focused on Dominic. A lock of his hair had fallen forward, half hiding his face, and the sun, splashing light through the moving leaves, sent sparks of color through the gold. He couldn’t be ruined. He was the wonderful man who had brought her back to life. He had made her face herself and realize she could begin again. Everything, anything could be overcome in the wonder of his arms. Biting her lower lip, she tried to stop giggling in response to the look in his sparkling eyes, but failed and was forced to bury her face in his shoulder as she, too, shook with laughter. They lay together, their mutual laughter and his soothing touch slowly melting the emptiness inside her.

  Dominic recovered first and turned his head to look solemnly into her face. They were so close his breath fanned her cheek. His shirt lay open at the throat, a pulse beating strongly in the hollow of his throat. There was a faint moist sheen on his skin. She watched his cornflower eyes slowly darken to navy.

  “You should never have ridden Bucephalus, Juliana. He might easily have thrown you. When I saw you laying here I…” he broke off, such a look of concern hardening his features, Juliana’s breath caught in her throat.

  “Would it really matter so much to you, Dominic?” she asked quietly. So much depended on his answer. Would it be the glib reply of the rake? Or would it be the answer of the man she had come to love?

  He surprised her with a heart-stopping smile. “Matter to me! You have haunted my thoughts night and day for years. Of course, it matters to me!”

  Breathing the flower-scented air deeply into her lungs, she laughed joyously. His grandmother was wrong … everything was all right. Nothing was ruined.

  He must be as bemused with love as I am, she thought, for I couldn’t possibly have haunted his thoughts for years. We only met weeks ago.

  Yet, she too felt as if he had always been there in her heart. And she would obey Mrs. Forbes. She would do what her heart demanded. Turning in his arms, she placed her lips at the spot on his neck where a pulse beat rapidly. He became very still while she worked her way up to nibble on his earlobe before moving across his cheek to his lips. She touched them lightly and then more deeply realizing that this, not the sweet air, was her breath of life.

  With gentle hands he moved her so he could gaze down into her dreamy face, his beautiful hand drifting slowly over her body. Bending, he parted her lips in a deep kiss; she was filled with such longing she couldn’t help arching her back to press closer to him. His mouth covered hers again and again, his deft fingers playing in the curls at her neck.

  “You’re so soft, love,” he whispered wonderingly.

  Juliana had never known what uncontrolled desire was, but she felt it now, like liquid heat flowing through her veins. Lifting her body into his, she sought his mouth, then moaned gently when she found it. He did love her. She could feel it each time he kissed her.

  His breath was sweet as he dragged his mouth over hers slowly. “Oh, love … I want you.”

  He bent to bury his face in her neck and she gathered him even closer.

  “I want you too … I love you. Please … please let us be married soon…” Her breath came in a tattered gasp. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

  His arms tightened painfully about her, and he became so utterly still it was as if he had even ceased breathing. Then he moved, supporting himself on hands placed on either side of her face and raised himself to look into her eyes. Some strong emotion she didn’t recognize blurred his features.

  “Juliana … Juliana, I want you.” His voice was gentle, but it held that same note she had first heard in Mrs. Forbes’s parlor and had never been able to understand. “More than I have ever wanted anyone. But there can be no marriage between us.”

  His words struck her like a blow, but she did not flinch, only stared at him for a long moment before finally understanding all that this meant to her.

  Mrs. Forbes, you were wrong!

  What had she done? She was sunk beneath reproach.

  “Will you please move so that I may get up?” she asked in a cold voice, which matched the chill once again causing her insides to shudder. She would never let him know how he had destroyed her with his callous words.

  She was released swiftly, her body feeling weightless without the warmth of him pressing against her. Slowly sitting up, she pulled her chemise back into place. Soon the shame and disgust with herself would settle firmly in her soul, but for now she felt strangely detached, even when he brushed her hands aside to finish the fastenings her fingers were unable to accomplish.

  Ignoring the hand he reached out, she stood alone. Without looking at him, she walked to where the mare grazed.

  “Juliana!”

  The pain in his voice made her stop, but it was a moment before she could force herself to turn and face him.

  Even through her own misery she responded to the unhappiness and loneliness she recognized on his face. How did he do it? Time and again he could raise her to the heights and then drop her to despair. With but a look he would beg forgiveness—and she would be within an instant of granting it. The gossips were right. He was a debauched rake unworthy of her. This time he had gone too far. He had stolen a part of her honor and she would never forgive him. She twisted the reins in her hand refusing to ask for his assistance.

  “You don’t understand, Juliana.” He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “If only I could tell you, you would understand why I do this.”

  She felt her mouth twist unhappily as a tear threatened. She backed up into the velvet warmth of the horse. When she was safely in the saddle she answered. “I do understand … I do. It is because I am a widow. The Marquis of Aubrey could never marry soiled goods.”

  She thundered off and his protests were lost in the echoing hoofbeats.

  Chapter 11

  Juliana fled to her bedchamber, locked the door, and, exhausted, fell to her knees beside her bed. She wept until there were no more tears left, only a bitter burning ache that threatened to remain with her forever. Because she loved Dominic, she had thrown away every rule she had lived by … her honor, when she broke her promise to Sir Timothy … and her unquestioned conviction that the intimacy of her love would be given only to the man she would wed. She would have allowed him to love her there in the bank of flowers because her feelings for him were as infinite as the air she breathed. But he only wanted her; fool that she was, she had thought it was love. She had followed her heart … declared her own love openly and freely and he…

  She forced herself to the wash stand where she poured cool water from the earthen pitcher over her wrists. Then she splashed water on her hot face and throat, hoping to still the sickness waiting to overcome her. It was little help. She flung herself onto the twisted covers and buried her face in the pillow. How easily she had fallen under his spell. He had brought other women to the paradise he had offered her, she realized that, but she had been foolish enough to believe there would be no other after her.

  Oh, yes, my lord marquis, your charm is lethal, indeed.

  She lay there letting her misery utterly overwhelm her. Her bedchamber door handle rattled slightly but didn’t open.

  “Juliana, please let me in!” It was Aunt Sophia. “Please dear, just for a moment. I want to talk to you,” she called softly.

  Scrambling off the bed, Juliana nearly tripped in her eagerness to reach the door. Sophia would help her as she always had in the past. Juliana knew she could count on Sophia. Maybe at last, she would discover what this mise
rable family secret was all about.

  She knew by the look of her aunt’s face that her own stumbling and sobbing flight up the staircase had not gone unobserved.

  But Sophia offered no false assurances and her face was grave.

  She sat on the bed and Juliana ran to her, kneeling at her feet.

  “Please tell me what is wrong with Dominic. What did Lady Grenville mean in the coach? And the Duchess?” Juliana grasped her aunt’s hands. “I heard you both talking in the library. Please help me to understand.”

  “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.” Sophia shook her head, her lips tight, the skin on her cheeks drawn tautly over the bones. “Come sit beside me,” she said gently, pulling Juliana up and urging her onto the bed. “I can only tell you it has something to do with Dominic’s mother. Rodney confided in me weeks ago about Dominic and his parents. It is a painful memory for all of them to bear. I think … Rodney was upset with himself for telling me. But I promised the story would go no farther.”

  “I assumed his parents were dead. What is it?” Blinking back fresh tears, Juliana leaned closer to her aunt. “I love Dominic. I would never do or say anything to harm him. You know that.”

  Sophia stood and paced to the window, staring out for several moments before striding quickly back to where Juliana waited. Nodding, she took a deep breath. “I know that I can place this in your keeping, my dear. I will tell you what I know.”

  “No, Sophia, I shall tell her.”

  Neither of them had noticed they had left the door slightly ajar and now the Comte de Saville stood there, a stern twist on his thin lips.

  “Rod told you only what is known to the family. They do not know the whole truth. I do. For I was there,” he said, entering the room and shutting the door behind him. “Now, at last, it is time to put away the past.”