The Care and Taming of a Rogue

by Suzanne Enoch

  As he watched Phillipa giggling, scratching Kero as the monkey cooed and picked apart the pretty arrangement of her long chestnut hair, everything else fell away. His missing journals, Langley, the news Sommerset had given him, three years of the hardest living he’d ever done, the still-healing spear wound in his side. “I’m coming after you, Phillipa,” he said, making certain she could hear him. He wanted her to know.

  Chapter Eight

  We’ve learned never to wash in the river without at least one lookout; crocodiles lurk everywhere in the inlets and slower-moving stretches of water. The natives say there is nothing more placid than a pond with a crocodile just beneath the surface—until it strikes, at which moment nothing is more horrifying.

  THE JOURNALS OF CAPTAIN BENNETT WOLFE

  Bennett sat in the breakfast room at Howard House and sliced slivers off a peach. Chattering her teeth and chittering happily, Kero accepted the pieces and messily gobbled them down. While pulp and the peach’s tart skin landed around her on the polished mahogany table, the butler and his two footmen stood at the opposite end of the room taking turns making disapproving grunting noises.

  “You sound like a herd of wildebeest,” Bennett commented, glancing at them as he handed over another slice to the monkey. “Or camels. I can’t decide.”

  Evidently he hadn’t disguised his anger toward Fennington and his brood very well, because they’d all altered their breakfast schedule to avoid sitting with him. While he wouldn’t have minded dining with Geoffrey or his sister, Madeline, he knew himself to be a poor conversationalist—especially with the man who’d conspired with Langley to cut down his reputation. As for Lady Fennington, his aunt had nearly enough personality to fill a teacup.

  “The animal is making quite a mess,” the butler droned.

  “Are you referring to the monkey, or to my nephew?” Fennington drawled, strolling into the room.

  “Hm. How long did you lurk outside the room waiting for that opportunity?” Bennett asked, handing Kero the remaining quarter of the peach.

  “I don’t lurk in my own home. Hayling, that’ll be all for the moment.”

  The butler finished pouring the marquis his morning tea. “Very good, my lord.” With a gesture he sent the two footmen out of the room and followed them, closing the door after himself.

  “You still have a great many admirers,” Fennington said after a moment, opening his freshly ironed copy of the London Times. “I have to say, I was a bit dismayed by the tone of Captain Langley’s book toward your involvement in the expedition.”

  “You did write that very nice foreword connecting you to me,” Bennett said with a nod. “You should have read the book before you agreed to contribute to it.”

  “For all I knew, his observations were accurate. They may yet be.”

  Bennett deliberately set the knife aside. “Are you going to attempt to blame me for the fact that this is the first time I’ve set eyes on you in seventeen years, Fennington?”

  “No. It was merely a comment on the facts.”

  “How much is Langley paying you for your…connection to me?”

  “Fifty percent of his profits.”

  Bennett lifted both eyebrows. “That’s generous. Why so much?”

  The marquis sighed. “I believe it was so that I wouldn’t make an issue over the ownership of the items you gave him on your deathbed. If I had done so, Sommerset might also have made a claim for them.”

  “And Sommerset would have had the best chance of getting them.” Taking a bite of poached egg, Bennett sat back in his chair to study his uncle. He had a vague recollection of the man from a brief visit when he’d been twelve, but that had been only because his aunt and uncle had come by whichever boarding school he’d attended at the time and announced that they were on their way to holiday in Scotland, and that no, he wasn’t invited. And then, nothing. Not until three days ago. “I’m somewhat surprised that you’re not dissembling.”

  Fennington shrugged. “I thought you were dead, Bennett. I haven’t done anything wrong except perhaps keep my silence about a few papers that may or may not have rightfully belonged to Captain Langley.” He dropped a lump of sugar into his tea. “Now, must you encourage that monkey to sit on my furniture?”

  “You helped make her famous,” Bennett returned. “This is the consequence.”

  “Just remember, if not for that book, no one would remember you at all right now. Langley’s moment in the sun is purchasing you a moment or two in his shade. Get that thing off my table.”

  At the angry tone of his voice, Kero faced Fennington, giving a high-pitched, teeth-bared chirp, the hairs lifting on her back. Clearly uncomfortable being at approximate eye level with an agitated vervet monkey, the marquis pushed to his feet. “Control your animal or I’ll have it shot and stuffed.”

  “You could try that, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” Bennett made a low clucking sound and Kero subsided, dropping the peach pit onto the floor and clambering up his shoulder. Gazing levelly at his uncle, he stood as well. “We’ll have to continue this later. Jack Clancy’s dragging me somewhere civilized,” he continued, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “That should be a treat.”

  Out in the foyer he handed Kero into the coat rack and pulled on his greatcoat. Once he’d straightened the collar, the monkey returned to his shoulder.

  “Ready for a ride?” he asked, flicking her tail with his finger.

  “Sir.” The Howard House butler reached for the door and, backing as far away from Kero as he could manage, pulled it open.

  “Cousin? Bennett?”

  Halfway through the front door he stopped, turning around to face the source of the young, hesitant voice. “Geoffrey.”

  His cousin stood just inside the morning room doorway. He’d barely seen the boy since the day of his arrival, and the rather brusque exchange they’d had then had been their only conversation.

  “Did you truly shoot a leopard?”

  “I did.”

  “Did you keep the pelt?”

  “It’s at Tesling. I do have a necklace made out of the teeth upstairs in my bedchamber.” Mbundi had assured him they would keep him safe from harm. He should likely have been wearing them the evening they were ambushed, but the damned things dug into his skin. The one time the leopard had attempted to eat him had been enough without repeating the experience every time he wore the necklace. “I’ll show it to you later, if you like.”

  “Father says I may go foxhunting when I’m twelve.”

  Bennett had no idea how to reply to that; saying that he considered foxhunting to be the poorest excuse for a sport ever invented would be unkind. “Good for you,” he ventured, and left the house.

  Jack waited for him on the drive. He rode another of his horses, gray Brody, while he held Jupiter by the reins. “I thought you might need transportation,” he said, tossing the leads to Bennett.

  “I still haven’t decided if I’m accompanying you,” Bennett returned, patting the big bay on the flank and then swinging into the saddle. “If the ‘civilized’ character of wherever we’re going is its highest recommendation, I’m not interested.”

  The marquis’s son flashed him a grin. “Trust me.”

  With an exaggerated sigh Bennett settled Kero against his chest and trotted off behind Jack Clancy. In truth he didn’t have much in the way of plans, and that aggravated him. He was accustomed to having something to accomplish, whether it was making it to the foothills before nightfall or discovering whether a certain species of lizard was red all the time or only when it was seeking a mate. At the moment, however, he needed to wait. Wait for Langley to reappear.

  Of course, he also needed to convince the Mayfair herd that his previous books weren’t fictional or exaggerated, while Langley’s Africa book was both of those things. And he needed to talk to the Africa Association before they voted to sponsor another expedition that did not include him.

  The entire damned thing involved him being charming a
nd patient and social, when he was more comfortable with, and more eager for, throwing punches and brawling. London felt so bloody small. Small space, small minds, and nothing new under the sun.

  Ahead of him, Jack slowed a few hundred feet into St. James’s Park. Bennett looked where he indicated, and lifted an eyebrow. Perhaps there was something new under the London sun. “Lawn bowling?”

  “Very civilized, don’t you think?” He dismounted. “And a rather attractive selection of young, unmarried ladies playing it.”

  Bennett didn’t answer. He’d already seen her. Phillipa. This morning she wore a pretty green and white sprigged muslin, and absolutely looked like springtime. She said something to her sister and then took a step forward, squatting a little to roll the green bowl forward. It was a grand shot, glancing off someone else’s bowl to land right against the kitty.

  “If anyone asks, I’ve been showing you the sights, and we stumbled across the game,” Jack said, pulling the reins over Brody’s head and loosening the bit, leaving the gray to stand and graze.

  Finally Bennett glanced over at him. “Why are we here actually?” he asked, dismounting as Kero clambered up to his shoulder. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Because if I came by myself and stood about watching Livi Eddison, it would be frightening. With two of us, it’s an innocent excursion. And I’m more charming, so I’ll make the better impression.” He frowned. “Stay away from Olivia Eddison, by the by.”

  “I have no interest whatsoever in Olivia Eddison.”

  “Good. You’d never suit anyway. In fact, the only person I can conjure who’d be less likely to want to go traipsing off on one of your expeditions than Livi is her sister.”

  Bennett slowed his approach. “Why is that?”

  “Flip is one of the most intelligent people I know, male or female. But she’s very…attached to her library. In fact, a group of us went fishing a few weeks ago, and asked her to join us. She declined. Flip said she would rather read a book about fishing than engage in the practice.”

  The information jolted him. Since he’d first heard her voice he’d set himself on a trail that led to him having her. For that reason it shouldn’t matter that she didn’t like travel or adventure. But part of him, evidently, had been looking beyond the end of the bedposts. And that part didn’t like what he was hearing.

  “Look who’s found us!” Olivia sang, prancing over to take one of Jack’s hands and one of his and tow them toward the green.

  “I was showing Bennett the sights,” Jack said with a smile. “You surprised us.”

  “I told you yesterday that we were going to be bowling in St. James’s,” Phillipa said, her brown eyes turning to Bennett. “Good morning, Captain. Kero.”

  “So you came to find us?” the other sister was saying. “That’s even better. Sir Bennett, you must be on my team. Flip is handing us a pounding.”

  “I already promised your sister I would join her,” he heard himself say. “Take Jack, or you’ll hurt his feelings. He was always the last one chosen for cricket at university.”

  “Captain, do you remember Wilhelmina Russell?” Phillipa was saying to him. “She met you at John’s book reading club.”

  Ah, the hatchet-faced chit, still up to her chin in muslin, blue this time. He nodded. “Miss Russell.”

  Twin red blotches appeared on her cheeks. “Sir Bennett. What a great honor.”

  “I thought you said I was a savage,” he pointed out, unable to resist.

  “That’s why I like you,” Phillipa put in, reaching up to his shoulder to scratch Kero’s stomach.

  “Do you now?” he breathed, the scent of citrus touching him. Lust stirred deep in his gut, sharp and intoxicating.

  “I was talking about Kero,” she whispered back, her eyes dancing. “Now. Do you know how to bowl?”

  “Put the green bowl as close as you can to the white ball. The kitty, yes?”

  “Very good. And you roll underhand. No throwing at anything.”

  Good God, she was flirting. Teasing. Arousing as he found it, this morning was going to be a test of every bit of control he owned. “No throwing,” he re peated, lifting Kero into the nearest tree and handing her an apple from his pocket.

  They began the game over, each of them taking turns rolling their three irregularly shaped bowls at the kitty target. Phillipa might prefer books to fishing, but she was the devil of a bowler. Perhaps it was her grasp of logic and mathematics. Personally he didn’t care, as long as he got to watch her.

  He stood back beside her as Miss Russell took her turn. “I want to kiss you again,” he murmured, waiting for the soft blush to touch her cheeks. It was absolute torture to not be able to put his hands on her.

  Phillipa looked up at him. “You’ve been away for a very long time,” she returned in the same low tone, twisting her fingers into one another. “I told you where you could go to…slake your lust. You should find a lady who knows what she’s about.”

  “ ’Slake my lust’?” he repeated, chuckling.

  “Yes. Don’t laugh. There are myriad other young ladies here, Bennett. I don’t understand why you kissed me.”

  “I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you.”

  “Have you wanted to kiss anyone else since you returned?”

  With any other chit he might have asked whether she was jealous, but he had the feeling that Phillipa genuinely wanted to know what he was about. Curiosity. Another trait he found very compelling, despite the blow to his self-esteem. “No.”

  “You see? That’s what I mean. You haven’t met anyone but me.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “So if I knew better I wouldn’t be drawn to you?”

  Rich brown eyes widened a little. “You’re drawn to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “How so?”

  Sweet Lucifer. “I want you.” She claimed to prefer straightforward conversation. “Naked. In my bed. In any bed. On the floor. That part doesn’t really matter. Just the naked bit. Naked with me.”

  Phillipa opened her mouth, then closed it again. A moment later she cleared her throat. “That’s…that’s very scandalous.”

  “Is it? I don’t actually care.”

  “It’s because you’ve been away for so—”

  He reached out and grabbed her wrist. “No. It’s not. I’ve danced with two dozen chits since I’ve returned. I’ve chatted—if that’s what it’s called—with fifty more. You’re the one I kissed.”

  “But you can’t simply ruin me,” she returned, her voice squeaking a little.

  She pulled her arm free and walked forward to roll her bowl. This time her aim was terrible. Then it was his turn. With barely a look he tossed the green bowl out onto the grass and moved up even with her again. “That’s all that troubles you? That I not ruin you?”

  “That’s not what I mean.” She scowled. “You…the…there are steps. And rules. You haven’t even said anything nice to me, except that you liked my laugh. And now you want to…well, you know.”

  “Steps.”

  “You said you were after me. Just for…intercourse? That’s not very flattering.”

  “I beg to differ, but I don’t like to waste time. Courtship is overrated.”

  “To whom?” she demanded. “I’ve never been courted, so I couldn’t say, myself. And if you’re not interested in seeing me unless I’m naked, then I seem to have wasted a great deal of conversation with someone I admired.”

  “You admire m—”

  “I’ve spent time, you know, imagining what it would be like to talk to the great Bennett Wolfe. He would be suave and charming and witty. He wouldn’t after four days say, ‘I want to see you naked,’” she went on, doing a poor imitation of his voice, “and then say that spending time getting to know me is overrated.”

  He glared at her. She might as well have thrown cold water on him. This wasn’t about being back in London for a few days, or even about being practically alone in the jungle for three years.
This was about her. And he’d clearly stepped into a very large pile of elephant shit in telling her that. “I’m going now,” he announced, turning to face the rest of the bowlers. “I have an engagement.”

  “You do?” Jack asked, looking perturbed.

  “Yes. You may as well stay here, because you’re not invited.” He glanced back at Phillipa’s confused, hurt expression. “Good day.”

  “We’ll see you tonight, for our dinner,” Olivia called after him.

  “Seven o’clock,” he returned, collecting Kero and returning to Jupiter.

  “And please bring the monkey!”

  Yes, everyone liked the monkey. He kicked Jupiter in the ribs, and they galloped out of the park. He didn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he did feel in the mood to be surly—which, given the restrictions he had to place on his own behavior, left him with only one place he could go. Other than back to Africa, which he couldn’t do at the moment, either.

  Ten minutes later he stepped down and tossed Jupiter’s reins to a liveried groom at Ainsley House. Kero loosened her grip on his cravat and clambered down the length of him to pull a peanut from his pocket. Bennett walked along the front of the house to the second, vine-obscured entrance.

  He pulled the small key from his pocket and unlocked the door, then stepped inside. “Hervey,” he said, greeting the dark-clothed servant walking toward him.

  “Captain. Make yourself comfortable. Is there anything you require?”

  “A glass of whiskey, if you please.” Barely noontime or not, he wanted a damned drink.

  “Very good.” Hervey turned away.

  “Hervey, is Sommerset about?”

  The servant paused. “I haven’t seen His Grace today, Captain. Should I inquire?”

  Bennett shook his head. “No. That’s not necessary.” While he wanted to know whether Lord Thrushell had yet been able to bully his way onto the Africa Association board, there remained nothing he could do about it. For the moment, anyway.

  “Well, if it ain’t the man with the monkey!” Thomas Easton waved from halfway across the room.