The Rake and The Rose (A Rake's Mistake)

by Amelia Clearwater

  It felt as if something clicked in her brain as she thought of books, books and more books. She pushed it aside when the Clerk smiled at her. He was an elderly gentleman with half moon spectacles.

  "Well, it's hardly I see a Lady of such beauty, with ample brains as well I take it! Have you heard that Jane Austen's new book has been published?"

  "Who is Jane Austen?"

  "A female writer, she wrote a book called Mansfield Park. Here, I only have a few copies. It was published in May, but take a look! Been flying off the shelves!"

  She sat down on a comfortable chair and opened the book. Quite aware that Charles was off to the side glancing at titles, she was very excited. "Here I also have this," the clerk chuckled when he saw her nose buried into the book he set down The Wanderer by Frances Burney.

  About thirty years ago, Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds... Charlotte was consumed by it and had looked up when Charles asked her what it was, after she had finished half a chapter. "Oh! Forgive me, I lost all track of myself." She closed the book and blushed crimson.

  "No, I think it's lovely that you like to read," Charles said softly. Lady Deirdre was running a finger along a shelf with a scrunch in her nose. Alexander leaning stoically against a wall looked at her thoughtfully.

  "Lord Whitmore? Why not take Lady Deirdre to see some scarves and frocks, I might be a bit longer,” she smiled at him, a full-unhidden smile that made him stumble across his words.

  "Of course, if you do not mind me leaving you." "Lord Cromwell will be here." Charles glanced at the subject of the conversation and walked by to Lady Deirdre.

  "Why don’t we allow Lady Charlotte to look at what she needs I'd be happy to escort you to the frock store."

  "Really? I would love to!" They went arm in arm, and Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief and walked further back into the shop. It's shelving was large and tall; most of the books were in other languages if they were at the top. Two books in particular stood out, two more Jane Austen books Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility.

  But it was a bit too high up for her to reach. Ah! A stepladder!

  She walked back to the front looked around. Alexander was thumbing through a book about banks and what not, and the clerk was busy with a box of goods.

  Surely I could get the books myself.

  She stepped up the first three steps and reached. No! Not good enough! Charlotte huffed in agitation, and took one more step, but misplaced where her foot should have been. Her dress was slippery on her shoe. With a squeak she lost balance and toppled over sideways!

  She might have really injured herself, if it hadn't been for two arms catching her waist. She was yanked backward off the ladder, landing into her saviors lap on the floor. A hand clapped across her mouth to stifle her scream.

  Oomph! The sound came from both of them "First a cat, now a book? Lord woman! What will not get you into trouble? I'd hate to see what you'd do for something valuable!" Alexander's whisper in her ear sent shivers down her spine, his hips firmly pressed against her bottom did not help either.

  "Mffhm-mer-hmmf!" She had meant to say, "Let me go!"

  "Quiet, or do you want someone to spot us like this?" he murmured. She shook her head and he paused and seemed to press his nose against her throat inhaling.

  "I thought not." It came out as a soft groan.

  Charlotte wriggled in his lap trying to escape, and felt his hips flex slightly, tensing against her body in a grinding rotation as he growled low in his chest, "Don't…do…that. You won’t like the response I am sure of it.”

  She froze. What response might that be? Her curiosity peaked but before she could try it again he let go of her mouth and his arms circled her waist lifting her up.

  They both scrambled up and she leaned back against the opposite bookcase He stood rather close his head hung so his nose brushed her shoulder as he caught his breath. Her dress and chemise had slid off her left shoulder and she didn't really have the whereabouts to put it back, his breathing tickled the skin and sent a delicate shudder through her body.

  Alexander had nearly had his heart stop seeing her fall off the ladder. Why she hadn't asked either him or the clerk to get what she wanted, he had no idea. But he was pleased with the contact her little escapade had rewarded him. He gulped at the sight of cream and roses, seeing it goose-pimple and shiver caused him to shut his eyes tight against any devious and dark thoughts.

  We are alone… He leaned forward and tugged her sleeve back into place and placing a soft kiss on the bare skin, before pressing his forehead to hers. "Are you alright?"

  "Yes, just had a fright is all."

  "You? Gave you a fright? God, you scared me half to death. I doubt if that blasted Whitmore was here, he'd have been of any damn use to you."

  "You do not like him, do you my Lord." It wasn't a question, and he knew it.

  Alexander paused looking at her "No, I bloody well hate the bastard. The way he looks at you..." His arms were braced on either side of her. She liked the feel of being so close to him.

  "My Lord, what would you have to do with how he looks at me?"

  "Forgive me. I forget myself." He exhaled his breath tickling her nose he was so close.

  "You did not answer my question. And I was not reprimanding you." Again the dark eyes mocked him it seemed.

  He fought himself for a moment. "I can't damned well have men looking at you as if you're something to devour on first sight. It isn't becoming...”

  "You look at me in such ways." the auburn eyebrows raised in scrutiny.

  "I don’t know what-” she gave him a look that she didn’t believe him. “Fine, but just because I do doesn’t mean I’ll-"

  "Give into it?" it was whispered, she didn’t want to say it too loud for fear it would break the way he looked at her. Charlotte could hardly believe what she had just said; she was baiting this man with sweet words and subtle looks. One who was hardly in control of himself no less! She had to ask, "And what of Deirdre?" she whispered, running her fingertips along his arms boldly. It was purely curiosity, she’d never remembered touching a man, and found her new rapidly learning memory wanted to know what it felt like.

  Charlotte could not even recognize her own voice, or her manners! God she was acting like the light skirt they had presumed she was! But the jacket covering his forearms made her shiver when she felt the bunching muscle beneath. She watched his face, her question still hung between them, as the clerk was rummaging at the front desk.

  He watched her squirmed as his arms dropped to his sides, still leaning close to her. She could smell him clearly, amongst the musk of books and pages. It was heavenly. She tilted her head, feeling that warmth pool in her belly again as it did when he was near. "My Lord? Are you alright?"

  "You know the answer to that,” he whispered tightly, she felt her brow furrow.

  “No I do not.”

  “Of course you do…I have the same damndable thing wrong with me, as you do with yourself.” They drew closer, and closer. “Why do you have to tempt me?” he whispered.

  “I could ask the same of you.”

  And before either of them could stop themselves their lips softly collided, he leaning down and she unable to help it, tilting her chin up to meet him.

  It was a tender, soft kiss. But the power that it had, shackled them to each other. They both groaned softly into it, and he touched the sides of her face, tilting her head back as he slowly deepened the intimate touch. She shivered and her hands clutched at his jacket, frustrated with how the layers were between her hands and his skin.

  Alexander knew he had been right, he much preferred her hands elsewhere. They clung to him for support, support that he was more than willing to give. He trailed his hands down her neck, feeling her shiver and clutch harder. He felt it was a signal to continue.

  But we should stop. If someone were to spot us...Ah, no bother. His reputation was already ruined and everyone thought her a courtesan anyway...<
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  He had a guilty thought as he flicked his tongue against her bottom lip and she invitingly opened her lush mouth.

  The thought settled and expanded. Pure? What if she isn't a courtesan? What if she is of noble or even normal breeding?

  He realized her arms had wound around his neck, and his tongue thrust into her mouth. Charlotte’s fingers tugging at his hair caused his mind to lose all thought and use of its faculties. Her tentative reaction to his desire made his blood flame.

  But as if on the same train of thought, they abruptly broke off the kiss, panting. He stepped back from her. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright; she gasped for breath. "Well," she began but couldn't finish.

  "Yes, well..."

  They both inhaled sharply and looked down at the floor before glancing back up. She sighed and looked up past his head. "Could you please get those for me?" Her mussed hair bounced with her quick movement, and he caught himself before he reached out for it again. Alexander looked up and she pointed to two more Jane Austen books. He easily plucked them off the shelves and gathered the other two that were recommended.

  "My Lord, it's unnecessary. I have the money for two, I was just picking-"

  He silenced her by pressing his mouth back to her own. She tasted like earth and sweetness. Deep and warm, her small hands clawed into his jacket and she pressed against him.

  "My Lord,” he released her out of courtesy for her to speak “You can't…Please I can always come back for the others-" Her small body, plastered to him was too warm. He reluctantly disengaged from their embrace slowly.

  "Nonsense, it will please me to know you can enjoy these while resting." With that said, he walked to the front with her, purchased all four books and gave her the bag.

  "We ought to go find Lady Deirdre and Mr. Whitmore,” she said, resignedly.

  He couldn’t help but sympathize with her feeling, "Yes, we should."

  The spell that had been between them was broken and they walked side by side down the row of shops.

  Stumbling upon them, they realized that Charles and Lady Deirdre were rather smitten with each other. Charlotte laughed under her breath. "I think we each have been replaced."

  Indeed, Charles was listening to Lady Deirdre intently, but once he spotted Charlotte, his eyes seemed to hone in on a target. She inwardly sighed. "So much for getting rid of him." Her whisper reached Alexander and he moved his hand discreetly against the small of her back pushing her forward.

  "Don't fear…I won't let anything happen." the low growl in his chest vibrated down his whole being. Charlotte had a feeling he truly meant it

  CHAPTER 08

  When Charles had rejoined them and Lady Deirdre had reattached her body to Alexander's arm. They walked down the street together. Charlotte did not even really hear Charles's talking, as her mind was so befuddled by what had happened in the bookstore. She glanced sideways and Alexander caught her eye, their gazes collided for mere seconds before breaking away. Suddenly Charlotte realized that she was very, very hungry.

  "Mightn’t we stop for tea? I feel a bit peckish." Actually, she felt faint, she had hardly eaten anything and that fright caused her stomach to turn.

  Lady Deirdre looked as if to really faint at the idea she was so happy. “I am as well, come Charlotte walk with me." She took Charlotte by the arm and the men followed. She did not like walking near Lady Deirdre. It annoyed her to no end to have her quacking in her ear like a twitching duck.

  "Lord Cromwell, you said there was a tea house nearby?" Charlotte asked, timidly looking back at him.

  "Yes Charlotte." He smiled at her genuinely "Right there." He pointed to where an awning of cream with chairs outside and a blue door was open.

  "How lovely!" she whispered. Soon though she was being steered, not by the large hand of Lord Cromwell, but by a smaller one that belonged to Charles. It made her spine cringe.

  Alexander wanted to knock Charles in the jaw, when he put his hand across her back. He guided Lady Deirdre into the warm teahouse and the host walked up. "Hello Gentlemen, Ladies. How may I be of assistance?"

  Charles had spoken up, "Table for two." Her arm linked through his shuddered slightly, but her back remained straight.

  "The same." Alexander said, but when another host took Charles to their table, he leaned forward and murmured to set them close together. He wasn't about to let Charles get his claws into her.

  Charlotte sat down in the comfortable chair sighing. "So, Lady Charlotte." Charles smiled at her "How was your bookstore venture?"

  "Very nice. Alexander bought me some books." it was out before she could even stop it, and she saw a strange look pass across Charles’ face. "Is something wrong?" she asked softly as a waiter came over.

  "No, nothing I've just never heard anyone call him by his first name."

  "Forgive me, I spoke out of turn." she fluffed her napkin on her lap and crossed her ankles. For some reason, she felt as if there were things she must do about her posture, so she shifted and found a comfortable place.

  Alexander was amazed at how proper she looked. She held her head held at a beautiful, straight angle. Her ankles were daintily crossed and her hands demurely in her lap, one cradling the other. He looked at Lady Deirdre and realized that Charlotte actually appeared to be better bred than she did at the moment! It baffled him.

  "Will you please stop staring at her?" Lady Devon's voice was ice.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Every moment you get, you are staring at her, why?" The green eyes bore into him. "Is she of more interest than I?"

  "I do not know what you mean." Of course she is, you are a flicker compared to her flame.

  Lady Deirdre thought for a moment, "…Or…is it because you are sampling the wares?" The coy glance turned sharp. "That's it isn't it?"

  "Again, Lady Deirdre, you have no idea what you're talking-" Suddenly, he noticed Charlotte’s expression change as someone came to give them their order.

  Charlotte sat daintily on her seat, her hands folded gently in her lap, as a scone and teacup were brought to her. "My Lady? We have an array of tea. Which would you like?"

  "I think you should try the fruit tea, Lady Charlotte. It is very lovely." Charles said in a coaxing tone.

  She grimaced slightly. He drinks...fruit tea? That seems something a Lady would drink. Alexander drank dark...rich, sinful tea. She knew. He had plenty in stock and she had made a point of trying each and every one.

  "Is there anything darker?" her eyes widened hopefully. Alexander also had an array of a type of tea called Assam from India- a special gift from Kade. It was dark and she loved to steep three bags at a time to get an overpowering taste with honey and cream.

  "We do have that." the server seemed surprised at her request.

  "Charles?" she asked turning her head to him and batting her gaze, she had him hooked.

  "Whatever my Lady desires." he smiled at her warmly.

  Perhaps he was not so bad of a man.

  "So, you and Lord Cromwell seem good friends," he said slowly as she started to sip her tea. The pleasure that rolled through her with the sharp taste made her entire body clench… If she imagined, perhaps she could taste him again… She stealthily swept her gaze across the room and noticed him not far, eyeing her as well. Her breath caught and she coughed slightly on her tea.

  "Are you alright?" he asked reaching across the small table.

  "Yes," cough, "Forgive me Charles I accidently swallowed wrong." She dabbed her lips with a napkin and was thankful she coughed a dainty and not a horrendous deep chested cough.

  She suddenly felt something trail up her leg, it was warm, and it burned. It scalded her. And it belonged to the man sitting across the very small-very reachable- table.

  "Just checking my shoes." the sly grin of 'play along' made her see red.

  Alexander had been watching her through the entire meal. He watched how she sipped her tea, and how she held her teacup in her tiny fingers. The small table would have m
ade most women look large, but it simply made her long limbs appear even more graceful. Her hair winding down her shoulders and back made his groin ache, as he remembered diving his fingertips into the flames and honey.

  Suddenly, she went pale. Charles was saying something. He watched her face contort into an expression he had never seen on her sweet face. It was rage pure, and unbridled rage.

  "How dare you!" With one swift move, she had slapped him, hard, the teacup spilling onto the floor and smashing.