“Me too, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely before crushing her lips beneath his.
All thought left Rebecca as soon as Edward’s lips touched hers. Hang Mr. Simons, she thought a little frantically.
Edward kissed her with more passion than ever before and it scared and thrilled her all at once. Her last coherent thought was that he’d obviously been holding back those other times. This time Rebecca felt as if there was a fire raging between the two of them. She shook with the sheer force of it.
“Ahem. I’ve been sent as a search party to find the two of you. Not very well hidden are you?” Mr. Crawdon’s voice came from behind Rebecca. She made to jump back from Edward but he grasped her shoulders and kept her pressed against him.
“Go away, Tom,” he growled, his head leaning against Rebecca’s, his breathing as laboured.
“But your mother—”
“Now.” His eyes never left Rebecca’s. And she continued to shake with longing, not really caring that they’d been discovered.
“Fine, fine,” laughed Tom, “I surrender. But I hope you are prepared to make an announcement should anyone else happen upon you.”
Edward appeared not to have heard for the second Tom was gone, he captured her lips once again.
But Rebecca had heard.
She pulled away again.
“Edward,” she heard the breathlessness in her voice, “Edward. Stop.”
He stared at her with pure desire in his eyes and it was all she could do not to throw herself back into his arms and hang the consequences. But it would not be fair to either of them.
The last thing Rebecca wanted was for him to be trapped into a marriage with one so unsuitable as she. She loved him far too much to see him suffer forever for a moment of madness.
Oh my God.
As the full force of her thoughts hit her, Rebecca reeled in shock.
She loved him? She loved him!
Dear God, this was an utter disaster. How could she have been so stupid?
Edward watched the emotions flit across Rebecca’s face and was more than a little alarmed when her face paled and a look of horror passed over her features.
She stumbled a little and paled so much he thought she would faint.
“Rebecca,” he said in alarm, wondering at the sudden change in her countenance. “Sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled miserably, refusing to look at him. What the devil?
“Look at me.” Nothing.
He grasped her shoulders. “Rebecca, look at me.”
She glanced up reluctantly and to his dismay, her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Oh, my darling, please do not cry. I am sorry. I have frightened you with my attentions.” He pulled her into his strong arms and rubbed her back comfortingly, interspersing his speech with kisses to the top of her head. “I am sorry, I know that you are young and innocent. It seems I cannot remember my famous self-control when I am around you. I would never hurt you. I would never want you to be frightened of me.”
He sounded as if the thought pained him.
“No. Truly, you have not frightened me.”
“It is just, when you said you were glad I asked you to be alone, I thought you’d been as anxious for privacy as I.”
Rebecca smiled a little at the uncertainty in his voice. If only he knew how anxious she was for privacy, for him. How much her heart longed for far more than he was willing or able to give.
But, there would be plenty of time to deal with that little problem later. Right now, she had to concentrate on getting through the rest of the evening without blurting out her feelings for him.
“Mr. Crawdon,” she started nervously, “He will not say that we — that you…”
“Tom? He will remain the soul of discretion. I promise.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Well, because I will shoot him if he does not,” he answered as if this were perfectly obvious.
Rebecca had to smile at that. Everything was so logical to him. He never seemed shaken or worried by anything; which led her to why she’d actually wanted to be alone with him before his kisses forced her to acknowledge the loss of her heart.
“I did want to speak to you about something rather, rather strange I suppose,” she started self-consciously. What if he laughed at her? Or thought her mad? Still, there was nobody else that she could turn to.
“It is about Mr. Simons. I — I do not know if you remember him.”
Edward’s jaw tightened. “You mean the bastard who manhandled you.”
Right. He remembered then.
“Er, indeed. Well, anyway the morning that we left for London I was riding. Just in the grounds,” she added quickly, remembering her promise not to be alone. “He was at the stables and he approached me again.”
Edward’s expression went from mildly irritated to murderously angry.
“Did he touch you?” he spoke through clenched teeth.
Rebecca swallowed convulsively.
“No! No, I was on my horse. He did not try to, well he did not touch me,” she finished weakly.
Rebecca wished she’d never spoken. He looked furious and she did not know why.
“Go on,” he instructed gently.
“He, he said something which I thought unusual at the time. He said that I would be seeing him sooner than I thought. I had delivered a rather severe set down you see and had told him how damned lucky he was that I was leaving,” she spoke hotly and remembered how indignant she’d felt at his insolence.
Edward smiled a little as her temper clearly got the better of her. He waited for her to calm down before she continued.
“Well anyway, he had said this unusual thing about me seeing him. I did not give him the satisfaction of asking what he meant and I thought no more of it. But then, yesterday outside Madame Barousse’s I saw him. I am sure it was him. Standing across the street and staring at me. It scared me, I admit.”
She turned and began to pace in remembered agitation. Had she stayed put she would have seen his expression change yet again. If Rebecca had thought him angry looking before she would have been truly terrified by the expression on his face now.
“He disappeared not two minutes later and though I looked, I could not see where he had gone. I suppose I could have imagined it, or that it was a coincidence. It is just that, coupled with what he said it seemed… strange.”
Rebecca turned back to face him and he was careful to school his features to appear unconcerned and calm. Inside he was burning with the need to find the man and pummel him for causing her any discomfort. He had no doubt that she had seen him and it set him on edge to know that he had come all this way. To follow her?
“I cannot speak to anyone else about it. Nobody else knows of my encounters with him. I realise I was foolish not to tell Papa but, well I would not worry him with it now anyway. And I thought I was free of him and, well, it just did not seem all that serious but now—”
Edward could see that she was getting worried again so he took her gently by the shoulders and lowered his head so that he could look into her beautiful eyes.
“Rebecca, love, pray do not worry yourself. We shall get to the bottom of it.”
“But how?” she whispered miserably.
“I will deal with it,” he answered firmly. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
He was suddenly aware of how important her answer was. How much he wanted her trust.
She gazed up at him for a moment, as if considering his question.
Finally, she nodded and he felt a surge of pride that this brave, beautiful woman was willing to put her trust in him. He vowed not to let her down.
“Good. Now, let’s re-join the party and I shall call on you tomorrow to take you driving in Hyde Park. We shall discuss our plans.”
Rebecca felt as if a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she beamed happily up at him.
“If you look at me like that again
we will not move past this isolated balcony,” he warned her.
Rebecca felt a little thrill at his words and, feeling happier than she had in weeks, she gave him an outrageously flirtatious look before answering, “Then let us be gone before another search party comes along.” And she swept inside with a sly little wink.
The minx. She was going to cause him no end of trouble.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The next day Rebecca stifled a yawn as she listened to Viscount Hadley drone on and on about Tattersall’s, horseflesh, his new mount and various other things equally horse related and equally boring.
Dear Lord, did the man speak of nothing else?
The dowager had been correct in her prediction and all morning the girls had received gentlemen callers. The calls were interspersed, thank goodness, with calls from young ladies and friends of the dowager so the morning wasn’t a complete loss.
How, Rebecca thought a little desperately, did people do this every day without being driven completely mad?
Even Caroline, all that was proper and well mannered, was starting to fade a little and Rebecca caught her slight eye roll every now and again.
The room was filled with people as well as flowers brought by the gentlemen. Rebecca had noticed that when a lady called at the same time as an eligible gentleman, the lady was reluctant to leave and so it was that by one o’clock the drawing room was filled with boring young bucks and simpering young misses. Rebecca felt like screaming.
“Lady Rebecca,” Hadley was mercifully interrupted by Miss Cavendish, the pretty young daughter of a baron to whom she’d been introduced last night. The girl had wide violet eyes and golden ringlets and looked, Rebecca thought, perhaps a little meanly, like an overgrown doll. She’d lost count of the flounces on Miss Cavendish’s pink-trimmed dress. And she’d been trying her hardest to count them all, since the alternative was listening to Viscount Hadley.
Rebecca turned to her with a smile.
“You really must tell us your tricks! We are all quite anxious to hear of your methods.”
Rebecca frowned in confusion.
“My methods?” she queried politely.
“Why yes,” the lady exclaimed, “Lady Marsh’s party was abuzz with talk of you and the duke. He has never shown a preference for a young lady before. Never!”
Rebecca felt her temper rise at the impertinence of the young girl. She noticed that the quiet buzz of conversation had ceased at the question and everyone awaited her answer.
Along with Miss Cavendish were that lady’s mother, of course, Lord Hemming and his sisters, and a plethora of other young gentlemen all vying for the attention of the Ladies Carrington. Rebecca did not particularly like any of them.
She did her best to remain calm and polite.
“I am sure you are mistaken, Miss Cavendish. His grace danced only one dance with me, after all.”
“Well that is one more than he has ever danced with any of us,” answered Miss Cavendish, not giving up, “Why he seemed positively enamoured of you.”
Rebecca’s cheeks flamed and she glanced at the dowager to check the lady’s reaction. The dowager looked intrigued rather than affronted. And she did not look as angry as Rebecca thought she would, given that this little madam was gossiping about her own son. In her own drawing room no less!
“Miss Cavendish,” Rebecca tried to maintain a cordial yet distant tone of voice. “I assure you that the duke is no more interested in me than I am him.”
Rebecca stumbled over the lie. Had she not spent almost the entirety of last night tossing and turning, unable to sleep or to escape the knowledge of her love for him?
She had thought of nothing else since they’d re-entered the party last night and she had thought of nothing else during the carriage ride home. Being close enough to Edward to smell him, to have his leg accidentally brush against hers.
The things that she had believed about love — the fairy tales, the knights in shining armour, they seemed ridiculous to her now. Love wasn’t a fairy story. It was a painful, burning emotion that did not abate and brought no peace.
If only he loved her back.
But she might as well wish for the stars.
The thought was painful enough already, trying to convince her heart not to hope for him and here she stood, having to convince perfect strangers of his lack of regard for her, too. It was the outside of enough.
“The duke has shown no particular interest in me, of that I am certain.”
She could have kicked him, literally kicked him or perhaps stomped on his foot when he chose that very moment to burst into the room and declare, “My lady, our carriage awaits,” before bowing low and presenting her with a beautiful posy of hothouse flowers.
Rebecca almost groaned aloud at the look of smug disbelief on the faces of Miss Cavendish and the others present. The dowager chuckled merrily and Caroline lowered her head to hide the grin plastered on her face.
But Rebecca had seen it and did not see what was so amusing. People were getting ideas about her and the duke. Ideas that she wished with all her heart were true but were the figment of overactive imagination and nothing more.
“Your grace,” she answered weakly, dropping into a curtsy before thanking him graciously yet formally for the flowers.
Edward frowned at her greeting but did not question her. Instead he turned to greet his mother, Caroline and the other occupants of the room. He was more than a little displeased to see that the majority were unattached men.
“Miss Cavendish was just commenting on how little you seem to dance, your grace,” Rebecca told him, hoping that he would read between the lines and see that their dance had drawn attention.
“Was she indeed?” he asked, his eyebrow rising and his face taking on its ‘duke mask.’
The young lady had the grace to blush at least.
“We were just talking of how lovely you and Lady Rebecca looked dancing together, your grace,” she demurred, her eyes downcast.
Rebecca rolled her eyes at the performance. The girl was clearly trying to insinuate something but did not have the courage to come outright and say something truly improper to the duke’s face.
Edward regarded her silently for a moment and the young lady flushed a bright crimson under his scrutiny. Rebecca started to feel almost sorry for her.
Finally, Edward spoke and his voice was as detached and emotionless as ever Rebecca had heard it.
“Of course, Lady Rebecca would look lovely no matter the partner,” came his smooth reply.
He turned to Rebecca then and said, “If you are ready then, my lady?”
She grinned at him, happy to be escaping the monotonous conversation of young dandies who had nothing of consequence to say, and the deadly dull debutantes hanging on their every word.
“I shall just fetch my pelisse and bonnet, your grace.”
As Rebecca made to leave the room, she noticed Caroline’s look of desperation. Caroline was just as bored as Rebecca, though far too well-mannered to show it as Rebecca was wont to do.
And though she would treasure any time spent alone with the duke, Rebecca could not sacrifice her own sister.
Making a swift decision she turned to Caroline and said, “Caro, make haste. We do not want to keep his grace waiting. You have not forgotten our promise to take the air with him this afternoon, have you?”
Caroline beamed at Rebecca as if she’d rescued her from the gallows.
“Of course not,” she jumped up hastily, “I shall be ready directly.” And with that the two ladies bid goodbye to their guests and swept from the room.
They were positively giddy a few moments later as Edward handed them into his landau. He could not be disappointed at the added guest. Not when he saw how miserable the girls were amongst their sea of admirers, interspersed with gossips such as Miss Cavendish.
He was a little shaken to hear that he’d been the subject of Society gossip. He was never gossiped about. He had never given cause to be gossip
ed about. He did not particularly relish the idea.
But even had he known, would he have passed up the opportunity to dance with Rebecca? No, he did not think he would.
“So, holding court over the young swains of England was not to your liking?”
“Good God no. If I am told how beautiful my eyes are one more time, I shall gouge them out,” grumbled Rebecca dramatically.
“At least your hair hasn’t reminded at least a dozen gentlemen of the sunrise in springtime,” complained Caroline bitterly. And Caroline never complained.
“We are indebted to you, your grace, for rescuing us from such utter nonsense.” Rebecca smiled at him and Edward felt it like a punch to his gut.
“I would rescue you a thousand times over to have you smile at me like that, my love,” he whispered for her ears only and was smugly satisfied to see her pupils dilate and her breathing quicken.
Conversation between them then ceased for a while as Edward needed all his concentration to navigate the busy route to Hyde Park. He listened to the sisters’ idle chatter and was pleased to hear how happy they sounded and well they seemed to be going along.
They had not long entered the park with they happened upon Tom, taking a leisurely ride on his stallion, Brutus. He greeted them all jovially enough but Edward noticed a definite set to his jaw when speaking to Lady Caroline. His curiosity was piqued and he made a mental note to question Tom about what was going on between him and Lady Caroline.
His thoughts were soon cut short however by the arrival of Lady Sarah herself. He felt Rebecca stiffen beside him and an imp inside him awakened. He rather looked forward to introducing the two formidable ladies and sitting back for the fireworks.
“Eddie, my darling.” Lady Sarah had never been given to following the rules of propriety. She was a well-known flirt and her flirtations were known to extend beyond the innocent whenever the mood struck. Her aging husband rarely made the trip to Town, giving his much younger wife free reign over his household and his purse.
Sarah was harmless, once one made it abundantly clear that her advances were not welcomed. Nothing ever seemed to entirely put her off, however.
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