When Only a Rake Will Do

by Jennifer McNare

  In addition, knowing that he was so near even now, their bedchambers separated by only the narrow width of a hallway, was impossible to ignore. And despite her resolve, she couldn’t help wondering if she was a fool for not taking advantage of the opportunity at hand, to spend another glorious night in Brendon’s arms. Did she dare, or would another night with the man she loved merely serve to further the intensity of her inexorable heartache? Try as she might to quash them, the questions kept repeating themselves over and over within her head.

  Turning her gaze toward the small clock set atop the nearby nightstand, she could just make out the time; it was half past two. Groaning softly in frustration, she grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed and placed it over her face, then tossed it aside just a few seconds later. Staring up at the ceiling, she slowly counted to one-hundred. Then closing her eyes she silently counted again, this time to three-hundred. She tried to resist, truly she did, but the temptation was simply too great to withstand, and so finally she surrendered. A moment later she sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed and rose to her feet.

  Moving quietly she pulled her nightdress over her head and tossed it aside, then grabbing the thin, silk dressing gown that lay along the foot of the bed, she slipped it on. Walking to the door a moment later, she slowly turned the brass handle and peeked out into the darkened hall, immensely grateful that the narrow corridor was devoid of all but the moonlit shadows that played upon the walls. She glanced back and forth, listening for any hint of sound, but the house was quiet, everyone including the servants having surely retired to their rooms long ago.

  She stood there for another moment, quietly breathing in and out for several long seconds, summoning her courage and then finally stepped out into the passageway. Pulling the heavy oaken panel softly closed behind her she crossed the narrow space, her bare feet making nary a sound as she moved silently along the carpeted floor. Then stopping before the door to Brendon’s chamber she hesitated once again, her hand trembling as she reached out, suspended just inches away from the brass door handle. If she was going to turn back she had to do it now. She drew in a deep breath, but didn’t move. A second later she grasped the knob in her hand and slowly turned it to the right, only vaguely aware that she was holding her breath.

  Standing next to one of the tall windows that overlooked the front of the house, Brendon stood with his hands in his pockets, staring out into the darkened night as he had been for the past quarter hour. Not surprisingly he couldn’t sleep, for knowing that Daphne was lying in bed just across the hall was playing havoc with his thoughts. And the urge to go to her, to drag her into his arms and make love to her until the wee hours of the morning was almost too powerful to resist. But he had to resist, didn’t he? Yes, of course he did, damn it. To do anything but would not only be beyond reckless, but would undoubtedly serve to further complicate the feelings he was trying so desperately to ignore. Finally, slamming his hand against the window frame in frustration, he closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool glass.

  But not more than a second later he heard the faint sound of the doorknob turning and then the quiet opening and closing of the door behind him. He stiffened, wondering for a moment if his mind was playing tricks upon him. Opening his eyes, he turned around. She was there, standing just inside the door, the pale moonlight illuminating her in its soft, iridescent glow as if he’d somehow summoned her with his thoughts. She looked so beautiful that it nearly sent him to his knees.

  With her heart thudding wildly in her chest, Daphne stood motionless, her eyes locking with Brendon’s. “I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.

  For one seemingly endless moment they simply stared at each other in silence, and then suddenly he was striding across the floor, wholly unable to resist the temptation before him despite the warning bells ringing in his head.

  He stopped just a few inches in front of her, gazing down upon her upturned face. Then lifting his hand he softly brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Daphne,” he breathed.

  She swayed toward him, the sound of her name on his lips sending a delicious thrill rushing through her. Yes, she thought, she’d made the right decision. She needed this; she wanted this. Even if it increased the pain she was bound to feel later on, it would be worth it.

  Brendon dipped his head and lowered his mouth to hers, his fingers moving from her cheek to delve into the lustrous waves that tumbled loosely down the back of her neck as he drew her to him.

  Daphne sighed in absolute delight, melting into him as her arms came up to twine around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting him with a nearly overwhelming desperation.

  The kiss was wild and uncontrolled, their mouths devouring each other’s with unbridled hunger, as if they had been without each other for months rather than weeks, until eventually Brendon broke the kiss, tearing his mouth from hers with sheer force of will.

  Daphne lifted her lids, looking up at him with passion-glazed eyes as a small whimper of protest escaped her lips. He smiled in response, that slow, lazy, heart-stopping smile she adored and then scooped her up into his arms. She clung to him, burying her face in the curve of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent as she pressed her mouth against his throat, feeling the gentle beat of his pulse beneath her lips.

  Carrying her to the bed, Brendon laid Daphne atop the satin counterpane, following her down onto the soft mattress as he stretched out alongside her. Then reaching for the sash at her waist, he untied her silk dressing gown, slowly pushing the lightweight fabric aside as his hungry gaze traveled the length of her naked body.

  Daphne, however, wasn’t content to lie still beneath Brendon’s admiring gaze for long, and soon she was reaching for his shirt, her fingers working frantically at the buttons.

  And so, with the help of Daphne’s eager hands, Brendon was divested of his clothing in record time. He was inside of her a second later, thrusting forward in one fluid motion until he was fully entrenched within her silken core, the delicious sensation causing both of them to gasp aloud in blissful satisfaction. He began to move within her then, establishing a fast-paced rhythm that soon had them panting and breathless as they each sought their release. And then, moments later as they struggled to muffle their cries of joyous fulfillment they spiraled into euphoric bliss, with Brendon withdrawing just moments before spilling his seed.

  They lay prostrate for a time, Brendon’s face buried in the pillow beside Daphne’s head, while she lay motionless beneath him, fighting to steady her breathing as the rapid beating of her heart gradually slowed.

  When he was capable of movement once again, Brendon rolled off of her and onto his back, taking her with him and settling her atop his chest, his arms holding her tight as she snuggled into him.

  With her cheek resting directly over Brendon’s softly beating heart, Daphne soon fell into a light doze, the lack of sleep she’d suffered over the past two nights finally catching up to her.

  Brendon let her sleep, content to simply hold her in his arms as her faint breath blew softly across the breadth of his chest. And for the first time in weeks he felt truly at peace.

  He woke her shortly before dawn, kissing her into wakefulness as his hands leisurely explored the lush contours of her body.

  Daphne sighed in joyful exultation as she felt Brendon’s hands move gently across her body, his fingertips leaving a trail of fire burning in their wake as they traveled unhurriedly along the length of her naked back. How foolish it would have been to deny herself this time with him she thought as his masterful touch awakened her fervent desire once again, for surely no pain on earth could be great enough to forgo even a second of the incredible pleasure and absolute joy she experienced in his arms.

  Pulling Daphne onto his chest, Brendon positioned her to receive him, their gazes meeting for one seemingly endless moment before he slid once again into her welcoming depths. And despite the fact that dawn was steadily approaching, they made love slow
ly this time, savoring each and every caress as they thoroughly reacquainted themselves with each other’s bodies.

  As such, the sun was just rising in the morning sky when Daphne rose from the tangled sheets of Brendon’s bed and slipped silently from his bedchamber and back into her own. Then utterly weary yet blissfully happy, she fell into her bed, her eyelids drifting shut almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, the knowledge that they still had one more glorious night ahead of them ushering her into a peaceful slumber at last.

  *****

  For Daphne the following day played out much like the day before, with the races occupying most of the morning and afternoon, an impromptu visit to the ruins of Bury St Edmunds Abbey just prior to dusk, and their subsequent return to the house, followed of course by another delicious evening meal. All in all it had been a wonderful weekend, filled with memories that she would cherish forever.

  But at that very moment, lying in her bed once again, the only thing that occupied her thoughts was the night ahead. Unfortunately, however, the wait soon became torturous as the hands on the clock seemed to move at a snail’s pace.

  When at last the house grew quiet and still, Daphne rose from her bed and slipped silently from her room and into Brendon’s. He was there waiting for her, reclining atop the covers, that rakish smile she so adored lighting his face as she moved toward him. Sitting up when she neared the side of the bed he reached for her, tumbling her onto the mattress as he placed his mouth over hers, kissing her until she was breathless and dizzy with wanting.

  “What are you thinking?” Brendon asked later as they lay temporarily sated, wrapped contentedly in each other’s arms.

  That I love you with all of my heart. That I wish this moment would never end. “I was just thinking that this weekend turned out to be far more enjoyable than I could have ever anticipated,” she said, injecting a deliberate lightness to her tone.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Brendon replied with a light chuckle. “And to think I almost decided not to come.”

  “Well I for one am exceedingly glad that you changed your mind.”

  “As am I,” he said, absently twining a lock of her hair around his index finger as he gazed up at the ceiling.

  “You know we’ve only a short while until sunrise,” Daphne murmured, her eyes focusing upon the narrow opening in the draperies.

  “Well then,” Brendon replied in a seductive whisper as he promptly rolled her onto her back, “we should probably put what little time we have left to good use, don’t you think?”

  “Most-definitely,” Daphne replied as she gazed upon his beloved face just inches above her own. Then looping her arms around his neck she pulled him toward her until their lips met, kissing him with an undeniable hunger that set both of their pulses racing once again.

  Surprisingly it was Brendon who drifted off to sleep a short time later, his breathing growing steady and even as Daphne lay pressed to his side, his arm wrapped snuggly around her waist. As dawn was fast approaching she considered waking him, then quickly decided against it, for she wasn’t entirely certain that she could bear to say goodbye. And so, slipping carefully from under the weight of his arm, she rose quietly from the bed and then silently donned her dressing gown.

  Moments later, standing at the side of the bed, she allowed her gaze to travel once more across the planes of his face, her gaze lingering for a moment upon his mouth, his lips parted ever so slightly as he slept. And though she longed to bend down and press her lips to his one last time, she held back. “I love you, Brendon,” she whispered instead, and then turned and walked away.

  Blinking his eyes open a short while later, Brendon realized that he must have dozed off, though clearly he hadn’t been asleep for long as the room was still bathed in shadowy darkness. Rolling onto his side he reached for Daphne, but the space next to him was empty. Sitting up he quickly scanned the room, but his sweeping gaze confirmed that she was gone. Frowning, he dropped back onto the mattress, noting as he did a splash of yellow from the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw that it was a narrow satin ribbon lying amidst the tangle of white sheets that had caught his attention, the very one that he’d pulled from Daphne’s hair just hours earlier. Reaching out he picked it up, rubbing the smooth satin gently between his fingers for several long seconds before clasping it tightly within his hand.

  And in that moment he knew exactly what he wanted, the truth he could no longer deny. Then again, he mused, perhaps he’d known it all along.

  Chapter 15

  Brendon had been back in London for less than twenty-four hours when his coach drew to a stop outside the office of Mr. Stanley Watson, the private investigator whose services he and his brother had made use of in the past. Alighting from the vehicle he stepped up onto the sidewalk and then quickly made his way toward the small Fleet Street office.

  “My Lord, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Mr. Watson greeted a short while later, as he led Brendon from the small reception area and into his office at the rear of the building.

  “And you, Mr. Watson,” Brendon replied with sincerity, for the older man was a likeable sort and extremely skilled at his chosen profession.

  “So, what is it that I can do for you?” he asked, once they were comfortably seated.

  “It has come to my attention that a gentleman of my acquaintance, Thomas Hewitt, Viscount Huxley, has incurred significant financial losses at the gaming tables in recent months,” Brendon began. “I wish to know exactly how much he owes, and to which establishments.”

  “I see,” Mr. Watson said with a nod. “And you prefer not to ask Lord Huxley directly?”

  “That is correct. Nor do I wish for him or anyone else with whom you come in contact to know that I am the one responsible for the inquiries.”

  Mr. Watson nodded. “While that sort of information is generally kept confidential by the proprietors of the more reputable gaming establishments, I shouldn’t imagine that it will be too difficult to acquire.” He paused, pushing his spectacles higher up upon his nose before continuing. “Is it safe to assume that he has incurred substantial losses at some of the less-reputable establishments as well?”

  “It is.”

  “In either case, a few well-placed monetary inducements should get you the information you seek. However, if the gentleman has incurred losses off the books, private wagers with specific individuals for instance, that is another matter entirely.”

  “Of course. For now you need only focus on what he owes to the gaming establishments here in London.”

  “Understood.”

  “How soon can you get me the figure?”

  “If money isn’t a concern-”

  “It isn’t.”

  “In that case, I should be able to obtain the amount within a day or two at most.”

  “Excellent,” Brendon said, rising from his chair and extending his hand. “I shall expect to hear from you soon.”

  Leaving Mr. Watson’s office a few moments later, Brendon felt a tremendous sense of relief, for he had set the wheels in motion, now he need only be patient until he had the information he needed.

  Meanwhile, he needed something to occupy his thoughts as well as his time. “Take me to the wharf,” he instructed his driver. Two of his ships were presently in port and he needed to speak with their respective captains before they loaded their cargo and set sail once again.

  The following afternoon Brendon was seated at his desk looking over a handful of shipping manifests when his butler appeared at the door. “What is it?” he asked, looking up from the document he was presently reviewing.

  “Excuse me, my lord, but there is a Mr. Stanley Watson here to see you,” he announced.

  “Send him in,” he replied, setting the slip of paper onto his desk.

  Moments later Mr. Watson entered the room, a genial expression upon his face.

  “Please close the door,” Brendon instructed the butler, as he rose to greet his guest. “Good morning,
Mr. Watson,” he said, stepping forward to shake the man’s hand.

  “Good morning, my lord.”

  “Please, have a seat,” he said, motioning to one of the high-backed chairs positioned in front of his desk, before returning to his own chair.

  “I made the inquiries you requested,” Mr. Watson began as Brendon regarded him from behind the desk, “and I believe the information that I have acquired may surprise you.”

  “How so?”

  “Lord Huxley has no outstanding debts.”

  Brendon’s brows drew together in confusion. “No outstanding debts?”

  “No, my lord. He had amassed a significant debt, accruing markers at numerous establishments in excess of ninety-thousand pounds, but they have all been paid in full.”

  Ninety-thousand pounds. Good lord, Thomas was in even deeper than he’d thought. “Paid by whom?”

  “An anonymous benefactor, or so I was told initially,” Mr. Watson stated. “At each establishment the payment of Lord Huxley’s debt was arranged by an independent third-party.”

  Interesting, Brendon mused. So whoever had arranged to pay off Thomas’ debts hadn’t wanted his identity made known. “I see.” He leaned forward in his chair, regarding Mr. Watson intently. “And were you able to discover the identity of this anonymous benefactor?”