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

by Amelia Clearwater

  "Don't you even dare touch me ever again! And, as for my relationship with Lord Cromwell, I assure you he has never taken the courtesies with me that you assumed you could. How dare you say such things you- you-you!" it seemed she was inspired momentarily and she growled the last words "…sodding bastard!"

  Her teeth were bared in a savage snarl of feminine outrage. Charlotte’s spine was stiff as an iron pole, as she stood there glaring down at her attacker. Everyone in the teahouse- thankfully not many- was wide-eyed and staring.

  Alexander moved without even thinking when Charles' seemingly sweet expression had gone into anger. Before his body could even bolt up from the table, his hand partially raised, Alexander had him by his cravat.

  Deirdre shrieked.

  Alexander snarled at him. "You. Out. Now." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte's face go into an expression of shock.

  "Alexander…"

  "What did you do to her?" He growled, dragging him out toward the street. He couldn't even believe what he was doing. He had to control himself, but he simply couldn’t. One glance at the red haired siren behind him caused the rage to explode yet again. "I will ask again. What. Did. You. Do?"

  He flung the man into the dirt and stood over him legs braced apart in a defensive boxing stance. His blood slammed through his veins and the relish for a brawl was like alcohol releasing in his body. It had been a while since he had boxed with anyone, though with how scrawny Whitmore was, this would be simple. It rather vexed him even more.

  He was drunk on repression, which was far worse than liquor. He could hardly control this urge to defend what was his.

  His… Alexander suddenly realized he could not bear seeing Charlotte with another man, not ever. Never again could he handle it.

  Suddenly Charlotte was, there. She clung to his arm and he looked down at her. "My Lord, please, can we just leave?" Her fingers felt like ice against his wrist.

  "What did he do?" The bright pink that scattered across her face had his rage boiling near breaking point.

  The words were muttered, "He tried to run his hand along my legs." She wouldn't look at him. Shame crossed her face.

  It was too much. He broke from the tiny grasp and both men were locked in a fight.

  Charlotte exhaled sharply "Goodness!" she waited, knowing it was dangerous to step in now. But she was startled when Alexander hoisted Charles up and threw him upright into the wall of the teahouse.

  "Alexander!" He had Charles by the throat and suddenly a magistrate was there.

  "Pardon me, gentlemen, are we having an issue?" He separated them. Alexander stepped back, exhaling, his hair unruly and falling in his face, his broad chest heaving. "Come on men, move along,” the policeman hollered, as he leisurely strode away, hardly bothered.

  Charlotte was unsure of what to do. The thrill that had lit through her felt completely barbaric, and she knew whom she wanted to win. Lady Deirdre was pale and glancing back and forth between the men.

  It seemed as though the disturbance was over, until Charles lunged forward and punched Alexander in the stomach. Her hand flew to her lips, when Alexander didn't even flinch. Instead, he grinned a terrifying smile, doubled back and knocked Charles straight across the jaw. He promptly dropped out cold.

  Lady Deirdre rushed forward and tried to go to Alexander, who brushed her aside with a wave of his arm. His collar was ruffled, his neatly pressed demeanor rumpled. It wasn't just his appearance. When his eyes found Charlotte, she felt like she was being engulfed with flames. "You" was all he said.

  "My Lord?" He stood arms across his chest glaring down at her when he stopped close enough where their bodies nearly touched. "I didn't- this is very inappropriate, my Lord, I did nothi-"

  "Which is why I won't take you over my knee. Get Lady Deirdre. We are leaving immediately."

  "Take me over-what? My Lord! Surely you cannot say things like that!" She turned a deep shade of rose across her face and she saw satisfaction in his grim smile.

  "Now!" The voice held no second thoughts.

  "Yes, my Lord," she whispered, a wobbled fake smile on her face as she took Lady Deirdre by the arm and steered her to the carriage.

  "I cannot believe he brushed me off like that!" Lady Deirdre sputtered, but Charlotte was much too upset to really respond. "It's all because of you," she spat. She narrowed her glare at Charlotte who simply sighed.

  "I haven't the time Deirdre, do hush up."

  "That! See that is why you could never hope to be fit enough for him," she sniffed. Charlotte got her into the carriage and sat down by her. Alexander sat opposite.

  "Did you really have to knock him out?" Charlotte asked when they started moving.

  "Don't…" she was lucky he didn't bend her over his knee in the carriage and blister her hide. His rage was not towards her, but at what could have happened.

  "Do not what, get upset?" she crossed her arms across her breasts.

  "And what is your damn reason for being upset? Your fop took a dive?" He snarled jealousy coursing at full tilt.

  "Alexander you could have gotten seriously hurt!" Her eyes pleaded with him and he gritted his teeth, realizing he had made himself look a fool. And she had been worried about him, not Charles. It made him feel just a tad bit better.

  "I am fine…"

  He watched her and Lady Deirdre, who glared between them.

  "I don't see what the fuss was. It's not as if your purity will be worth much by your commoner hus-" she hissed.

  "It's worth more than anything!" he felt his chest tighten at the thought.

  Lady Deirdre no longer had anything to say. Charlotte could not help but see his gaze stray to her legs and quickly dart back to her eyes after traveling slowly up her body. She wondered what he was thinking.

  He was thinking he should try his luck and see if he got slapped as well.

  When back at the estate, Lady Deirdre bustled into the house. Charlotte rushed up the stairs and attempted to go to her rooms, still flustered from earlier. Alexander stopped her "Charlotte."

  "Yes?"

  "I don't want you going out alone without me there." "Why?"

  "Because you need a chaperone. So this nonsense doesn't happen again."

  "As If I would let it!" She was outraged. "I can handle myself, my Lord. I can assure you of that."

  "I don't give a damn if you can take care of yourself. You will not leave this house unless you are accompanied and especially not with anyone I have not met!"

  Charlotte saw that there was no arguing with him.

  "You, sir, are just angry because you'd rather it be you than anyone else! Well I am sorry. I won't shelve myself while you go and gallivant with the guests who are here to marry you! When God knows, I haven't an icicle’s chance in hell!"

  "I can assure you that I have had no thoughts." He saw a flash of pain go through her gaze and it broke his heart.

  "Good." She huffed for a moment, trying to say anything that would put him in his place. The look in his eyes startled her and she fled to her rooms, making sure her tears were unnoticed.

  Charlotte was downstairs with everyone making supper. Precious was at her heels, as always and she was quite an amusing sight for the staff in the kitchen. But none of that mattered to her. Alexander had been avoiding her for three days!

  Every time he saw her he all but ran. He avoided her touch at all cost as well. But each time he did see her, he reminded her to stay in her rooms.

  “That man is infuriating! Can you believe he thinks he can tell me whom I can see? Where I can stay! 'Stay in your rooms.' he says." She growled low in frustration. "Why can I not stay with you?” Charlotte motioned to Sophie and Francesca, as Mary and Laura bustled back in from serving the Ladies evening tea.

  “Well Charlotte, don’t fret…at least you are being treated nicely.” Francesca nodded, as she had her hands full with dinner’s bread dough. Precious played with a stray ball of dough, that had 'accidentally fallen off the table’, hardly in
terested in eating it.

  “Nice, as in waiting hand and foot on the frilly things that are in the Sitting Room?” she chuckled. “Not that I mind. The women are kind to me…all but one,” she grumbled.

  Charlotte was cleaning silverware sitting on a little bench. “But I still do not understand why he has to be so pig headed. I don’t want special treatment.” She rubbed her hands on the cotton apron that she had quickly put on. Charlotte sighed as her hair fell from the combs; she had used to put it in order.

  Giselle bustled in; checking to make sure everything was in order. “You, ginger girl, what are you doing?”

  “Must you keep calling me that? It is rather rude…and what does it look like I am doing? I'm planting corn!” Charlotte’s words snapped out before she could stop them.

  Giselle’s face scrunched together in irritation, as if she had smelled something bad. “Well, I can see that your manners are lacking, if you speak to me in that way. Get on with whatever it is you are doing and behave. Alexander will be bored of you soon enough. And your scrap of fur will be gone too…”

  She sniffed and after checking that dinner preparation was in order, she left with an air of annoyance.

  “Oh, dear…” Charlotte cradled her head in her hands “God, what did I have to go and do that for? Am I daft? It must be from that cut on my head!”

  James had come in after chuckling uncontrollably. “Well, that was rather amusing!”

  “James, it is not very funny. She dislikes me.” Charlotte’s chest felt uneasy when she thought of Giselle.

  “She does not like anyone, Miss Charlotte.” James corrected, smiling at her warmly as he retrieved tableware and fresh-ironed napkins. “Off to the Dragon’s Lair!” he whispered theatrically to make her smile.

  Francesca pointed at Precious. “Take the cat, I hear they scare away evil!”

  They all smiled at his dramatic exit. Charlotte beamed. She loved how he did things to make her smile, things that were so unbecoming to the stoic butler, when suddenly someone who they did not expect to see walked in.

  “And what Dragon are we speaking of? Shall I get my gun?” The joking smile on his face startled Charlotte. When his gaze met her own, it lingered before going to Francesca.

  “Alexander! What are you doing here?” Francesca smiled, and Charlotte nearly dropped the spoon she just cleaned.

  “I haven’t seen you all, or had the time to check in on things, and wanted to make sure you did not need something. So? Does anyone need anything?”

  A round of “No, I’m alright my Lord” from passing staff.

  “No thank you, but the thought is kind my Lord!” from Laura.

  “I’m alright Alexander, you’re very kind,” from Francesca.

  Charlotte stayed quiet, fiddling with the silverware in her hand, when a much larger, warm hand blocked the spoon. “Do you need anything Miss Charlotte?” he asked softly.

  “No, my Lord…I find myself given more than I could ask for." He seemed irritated with her answer.

  “If I may have a word with you, Miss Charlotte?” His voice sounded tight and strained.

  She questioningly looked at him before nodding. “Of course, is there anything you need?”

  “Just for you to clear a couple things up, come. James will take Precious to your rooms.” She removed her apron and folded it neatly on the bench, when she caught his gaze, though she nearly stopped breathing.

  He looked angry…She glanced to the others who were busying themselves at their work.

  Had she done something wrong in the house? Would he send her away? Fear pooled in her belly as she followed him down the hall and up the stairs to his study. The fear mounted when he would not look, or speak to her, finally she was inside the study and he shut the door.

  But to her surprise, he locked the door behind her, walked to the opposite door, and locked it as well. Alexander also pulled the drapes completely shut, letting in only a few shafts of light from the midday.

  “Um, my Lord?” She sounded shaky and tried to steady herself.

  His head snapped to her direction and his mouth was in a firm line, brows drawn in agitation. Alexander’s entire body radiated frustration, but what kind she could not put her finger on.

  He walked over and came so close that she had backed up against the door they had just entered to avoid colliding with him.

  “M-my Lord, what have I done? I am sorry you’re angry. Whatever it was I could fix it! Please don’t make me leave…” The last sentence fell on a sigh of defeat if that was her fate. She noticed his anger sparked even more and she hurried on. “If I did the silver wrong, I’m sure Francesca can watch me the next time…” She mentally grasped at straws.

  Alexander’s blood was in flames, he had spent three days avoiding her, three. He had promised himself to avoid her. Three? Was that all he could stand without his body thinking for him? Or that unknown feeling he had never felt even with Lissie?

  Jealousy.

  It was there and the growl escaped his chest before he could stop it. Her apprehensive look reminded him of the animals he hunted. He let her continue her silly tirade, before he took what was his. He had received word that she was probably the courtesan from London, after all. With red hair like hers, it had to be. No other word had come forth.

  He had to be rid of her temptation. Soon.

  Charlotte saw he was watching her, with a bemused look on his face, that mouth still in a firm line, wanting desperately to know what he was thinking.

  “Or perhaps, if it was the furniture?” she gasped “I think we have more beeswax in the pantry…or I could get some on the run to market? I-I…I mean…I could spend more time? Doing-do-doing…“ she stammered nearly on the brink of tears. Her head drooped and he caught her jaw and tugged her head up, his eyes glittered with an emotion she puzzled over.

  “It’s not the damned work, Charlotte.” He strained each word, especially her name.

  “Not the work? Then what on earth are you so upset about my Lord?” she was utterly confused, but relieved.

  Alexander braced one arm on either side of her, leaning down so his nose touched her own. She inhaled his spiced male scent and was dizzy with it.

  “What are you doing? This is quite inappropriate.” Her blood rushed through her veins, as she looked to either side of her, his arms a cage near her neck and head his forearms resting against the door. His lips were so close if she just tilted her head…if he would just lean down a bit more.

  "Will you slap me?" he asked as if testing her.

  She blushed furiously "Of course not, do not be stupid!" He seemed pleased with this reaction.

  Charlotte quickly inhaled as his hand lazily dropped and ran up her clothed thigh. "And now?"

  She shook her head furiously wondering what spell he had cast on her, "What on earth are you doing?" she exhaled. The feeling was exhilarating, as though he lit her in flames from the inside out.

  “Why do you have to be so damned tempting?” His question was rhetorical. “You appear on my lawn and in my woods like a one of those mythical creatures…Are you a witch, sprite, or perhaps a nymph, fairy? Bent out for my destruction, eh?” His nose still pressed softly to hers, he longed for the words in her mind to speak to him, to know what secrets she had for him, about him. “I’m going to get you out of my system…now. And if you ever let that bastard touch you again, I will kill him.” The last words were the tone only a man could muster in jealous rage.

  “What are you-“ she stopped her mouth open from shock at his brazen manner.

  “Oh, do shut your mouth, Sweetling or better yet-“ a wicked smile appeared and it made her stomach flip.

  His voice dropped two octaves and roughed as he softly nuzzled his nose to her neck and inhaled her scent. When he let out the breath in was in a deep groan. “Let me shut it for you.”

  With that, she was silenced-and stunned- when his mouth crashed down on hers, one hand gripping the back of her neck to keep her where he wanted
her.

  Alexander groaned. She was far sweeter than he had remembered. The natural scent he had grown to learn as hers tantalized his senses. Damn! He had hoped it had just been his mind playing tricks; that he’d be disappointed with the reality of his fantasies each and every night. But no, his fantasies could not even compare to her in flesh and blood, in taste and smell.

  She was stunned and her lips were frozen still. He gripped tighter around her neck as his tongue slid along her bottom lip. He tilted her head back more as his other hand clasped her waist against himself. He pressed her skirts against the swell in his breeches. Alexander hissed in a frustrated breath between his teeth when she wrenched her mouth from his.