The Care and Taming of a Rogue

by Suzanne Enoch

  Ignoring both the comment and the sarcasm in the man’s voice, Bennett took a seat close to the shelves of books. Three other men had taken refuge in the Adventurers’ Club this afternoon, though Easton was the only one he recognized. That suited him; he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, witty or otherwise. Not even from men who had an understanding of what the devil they’d all mired themselves in, coming back to London.

  The chair opposite him pulled out, and Easton took a seat. “Finished Langley’s book,” he said, draining a mug of beer and gesturing Hervey to bring him another. “What I can’t figure is why you got the Sommerset royal invitation to join this little club, while Captain Langley didn’t.”

  “Bugger off.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Easton chuckled. “At least people know where you went. I mean, whether you bungled it or not, you did survive the Congo. No one knows what I was up to.”

  “I don’t care.” Bennett took the glass Hervey handed him.

  “Ah.” Easton sat forward. “But if you ever attended a ball, you would. All them pretty gowns, that silk from the East. That’s because of me.”

  If he’d provided the yellow silk that Phillipa had worn last night, perhaps Bennett did owe him a vote of thanks. He nodded. “Well done, then.”

  “Did you know that Muslims don’t drink?” Easton pursued. “Not a damned drop of liquor. How the devil do you deal with men who don’t enjoy a good brandy in the evening?”

  “I presume you’re going to tell me,” Bennett said dryly, taking a swallow of whiskey.

  “Oh, I am. You don’t drink for a bloody year, and then you return to London and find a place where you can drink as much as you want, gratis.” He picked up his new mug of beer and drained half of it.

  Bennett looked at him for a moment. “Was it worth it?”

  “The not drinking?”

  “The pretending to be a Muslim for a year.”

  Easton shrugged. “I think I saved the entire social Season.”

  “Then you should go and enjoy it.” Kero climbed down his arm to dip one finger into his drink. She tasted it, then snorted, flinging the remaining droplets onto the tabletop. Evidently she wasn’t a whiskey drinker.

  “I enjoy it more when the chits take those damned silks off.” With a short laugh, Easton took another swallow of beer. “So now I get to see pretty gowns and I get to drink.” He slapped the flat of his hand on the table. “And in exchange, I only had to give up my God, my religion, and a half-dozen friends who thought donning Muslim attire and custom would be sacrilegious.”

  “Stop whining, will you, Easton?” a tawny-haired man said from his seat at the center of the room. “You chose to stay alive. You might have chosen otherwise, and then we wouldn’t have to listen to you.”

  Easton pushed to his feet. “Out there,” he snapped, pointing at the outside-leading door, “you may be an earl, Hennessy, but in here you’re another damned misfit.”

  “A misfit who doesn’t whine about the misfortune of surviving.”

  “Gentlemen.”

  They all looked up as the Duke of Sommerset strolled into the room from the direction of the main house. He carried a riding crop and wore his beaver hat, evidently just in from or just about to go riding. Bennett eyed him. At two-and-thirty Nicholas Ainsley might be younger than half the men in the room, but he doubted very many of any age would dare take him on. Well, he might, but he couldn’t imagine Easton, for example, brawling with His Grace.

  “Easton’s whining again,” the Earl of Hennessy stated, going back to his cigar and newspaper.

  “His prerogative, I believe.” The duke shifted his gaze to Bennett. “I’m going riding. Care to join me?”

  “Certainly.” A bit of action suited his mood better than listening to other men arguing, anyway. He stood, handing Kero back up to his shoulder.

  “Care for more company?” Easton asked.

  “No. Go pester someone else,” the duke returned without heat.

  They left the club through the outside door. Jupiter and the duke’s huge black gelding waited for them. “You’re lucky I agreed,” Bennett commented, swinging into the saddle.

  “I knew you’d agree. You wanted to talk with me.” Sommerset mounted the black, and led them out to the street. As Bennett drew even with him, the duke pulled a peanut from his pocket and handed it over to Kero, who clicked her teeth at him. “I assume that means I’m one of the family,” he observed.

  “I thought I was the only one who carried fruits and nuts about in my pockets.”

  “I have a very loud macaw upstairs who blathers all sorts of nonsensical things except when he’s eating.” Sommerset watched the monkey for a moment as she held on with one foot and one hand and shelled the peanut with the other two limbs. “That’s handy.”

  “She’s hell at plucking insects off my jacket, as well.”

  The duke gave a short grin, then sobered again. “Langley’s in Cornwall. He’s expected back in London by Tuesday.”

  Less than a week. “Good.”

  “He’s bound to know by now that you’re not dead. He may just burn the journals.”

  “If he does, I’ll begin asking if he has any proof that he was in Africa at all,” Bennett returned, trying to keep his voice even when he wanted to bellow. “I, at least, have a monkey. And all my artifacts and specimens at Tesling.”

  “The proof of his presence being in your journals.”

  “Mm hm.”

  “That sounds a bit sticky for Langley.”

  “Good. Little liking as I have for him, I wouldn’t have abandoned him in a mud hut on some damned riverbank to die.”

  “Are you going to be diplomatic about this?”

  “I’m not a diplomat.”

  “Bennett, you can’t—”

  “That’s not why I’m here, anyway.”

  Sommerset rolled his shoulders. “Enlighten me, then.”

  “I need some advice.”

  The duke lifted an eyebrow. “Am I your confidant now?”

  “I can’t chat with my uncle, and Jack Clancy’s half convinced I eat raw meat. Which I’ve done, but I didn’t like it.”

  “Very well. What is it, then?”

  Now came the difficult part. “I find myself…interested in Lady Phillipa Eddison.” Obsessed with was a more accurate description, but he didn’t wish to come across like an escapee from Bedlam, or Sommerset would be advising Phillipa how best to flee from him.

  His Grace shrugged. “You’re an earl’s nephew; there’s nothing unacceptable with a union.”

  “You’re getting a bit ahead of things, don’t you think?” Bennett began to wish he’d finished off that glass of whiskey back in the club. “I tried approaching her, but clearly I’m less of a gentleman than she’s accustomed to.”

  “What did you do that she found so unpleasant?”

  “I kissed her. She seemed to enjoy that, though.”

  “No sweet nothings whispered into her ear?”

  “I don’t know any damned nothings. Generally chits approach me, breathe my name, and lift their skirts.”

  “Ah. Did you happen to mention to Lady Phillipa that you liked her?”

  “Yes. I told her that I wanted her.”

  Sommerset fished out another peanut for Kero. “That’s hardly the same thing.”

  “Yes, it is.” Bennett blew out his breath. “You can’t expect me to…sit in the morning room and chat about the weather with her mother, and hold her yarn while she knits, and…wait five weeks before I attempt to hold her hand.”

  “It may not be life or death, my friend, but that doesn’t make a courtship unimportant. If it’s a courtship. If you’re attempting a seduction, well, pick another female. I sponsored your expedition, and you’re attempting to recover your reputation. Don’t ruin a girl from a noble family.”

  “But—”

  “Decide what you want. That’s my advice. And try flowers, possibly accompanied by an apology for chewing on her
after five days of acquaintance.”

  It had been four days before he kissed her, but he wasn’t going to admit that. “Flowers.”

  “I believe in polite circles it’s referred to as a bouquet. And not one pre-dined upon by the monkey.”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  “Do that.” The duke looked at him for a moment. “Have you ever considered, Bennett, that in trying to accomplish so much in your life, you may be missing what lies along the way? In my experience, some moments are to be savored. And not only the ones you expect. Up, Khan!” Sommerset flashed him another grin and then kneed the black into a gallop as they reached Rotten Row in Hyde Park.

  Flowers. Kissing. Seduction. Courtship. Savoring—savoring what, not having her? A bloody pile of words between himself and Phillipa Eddison. If she hadn’t made it clear earlier that she found his approach insulting, he likely would have continued the path of his pursuit without a second thought. Apparently finesse was called for. And expressions of admiration. It all seemed like a waste of time when he knew so clearly what he wanted. Not easy for an uncivilized man such as himself, but he was nothing if not determined.

  Chapter Nine

  In my estimation, the deadliest animal in Africa is not the lion or the leopard or the serpent. Rather, it is the hippopotamus. Not only is it unpredictable and territorial and short-tempered and larger than a bull, but from a distance and to unaccustomed eyes it has the appearance of a round, benevolent jester. This jester, however, has eight-inch incisors and can rip a canoe in half. I don’t believe even a Society chit’s angry mama can do that.

  THE JOURNALS OF CAPTAIN BENNETT WOLFE

  For the last time, Livi, I don’t know what Captain Wolfe prefers to drink! I would imagine anything that hasn’t had wild animals swimming in it would be sufficient.” Phillipa closed her eyes, but fleeing from Livi’s nervous prattling would only allow more room for her own thoughts to intrude.

  She considered declining to attend tonight’s dinner at all. While she’d chosen remaining home over sitting about at some soiree or other before, though, this time the event was at Eddison House. If she hid, Livi would never forgive her. More than that, Bennett Wolfe would know that a few naughty, direct words was all it had taken to send her fleeing. Hardly practical or logical of her.

  That kiss. Oh, that kiss had been magnificent. Perhaps that was the difficulty—when Bennett kissed her, it hadn’t had anything to do with either logic or practicality. It had been…Well, it had positively curled her toes, heated her in places that ladies weren’t supposed to mention, and she wanted to experience it again. Several more times, in fact.

  But then the big beast had marched in and announced that he wanted her naked on his bed. Or on the floor—it hadn’t mattered where. The suave, charming man she’d imagined from reading his books had the finesse of a rhinoceros.

  What, then, was she supposed to do? Turn her back on him? Attempt to convince him that if he wanted to court her—and good heavens, she couldn’t quite imagine that—there were rules to be followed? Why had he set his gaze on her, anyway? There were certainly more flirty, bubbly females in abundance all about him. If it was because he saw her as pitiful and awkward, well, then he deserved a punch in the nose.

  Livi stuck her head into the morning room. “You didn’t need to yell at me,” she said, her expression halfway between excitement and nervousness.

  “Apologies.” Phillipa set aside her embroidery. “What might I do to help you, then?”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Her sister sent her a relieved smile. “Come with me into the drawing room. I don’t like the way the chairs are arranged, but…well, you’ll see.”

  “You’ve invited twenty-seven people, all with whom you’re already acquainted,” Phillipa said, trying to sound soothing as she followed her sister upstairs to the drawing room. “I don’t think anyone will care about the arrangement of the furniture.”

  “Yes, they will. The ones farthest from Sir Bennett will think they’re being slighted, and the nearest ones will wonder whether his current reputation weighs more heavily than his previous one, and how their own standing will be affected.”

  “You’ve spent far too much time thinking about this.”

  “I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have arranged for this dinner at all, but he is so very compelling.” Her sister twisted her hands together. “And he has a good income, of course—unless Prinny feels embarrassed by all this and takes away Sir Bennett’s stipend.”

  “Bennett hasn’t given anyone any reason to feel embarrassed,” Phillipa returned. Except perhaps for her, but at least no one had overheard their last conversation.

  “Oh, and then there’s Mama,” Livi continued, twirling. “She plans to sit with us. Do you think she’s well enough to attend a dinner and a gathering afterward?”

  Immediately Phillipa knew what that meant. And despite the fact that she’d half decided it would be wiser to spend the evening upstairs alone, she didn’t like that she’d just been assigned a task. One that would more than likely keep her well away from Bennett Wolfe. She sighed. “I’ll sit with Mama and make certain she doesn’t become overly tired.”

  Olivia swooped in and kissed her on the cheek. “Oh, thank you. That’s one thing I don’t have to worry about, anyway.”

  From the drawing room doorway she heard the front door open downstairs, and a rush of heat and ice ran through her before she could remind herself that it was twenty minutes yet until anyone was expected for dinner. What was she supposed to do? She’d never even been kissed before, much less had a beau. Perhaps if she had a bit of experience she would know whether every man kissed with that…passion, though she had a fair idea that gentlemen did not go about telling females that they wanted to see them naked.

  It was too much to think about. After all this she would be lucky not to faint or vomit from nerves when he walked into the room.

  “I was attempting to be fashionably late,” the low drawl of Lord John Clancy sounded from the doorway. “Apparently everyone else is more fashionable than I am.”

  Phillipa took a deep breath and opened her eyes again. Pasting a smile on her face, she turned around. “Hello, John. I would say that you’re fashionably on time. Are you alone?”

  He grinned. “My famous friend has fled Clancy House for his uncle’s.” His light green gaze moved past her to Livi. “Good evening, Lady Olivia.”

  She waved her fingers at him. “John. Nice of you to come tonight,” she said, and went back to counting chairs.

  “You did invite me.” Pursing his lips, he strolled over to her. “Anything I might do to help?”

  “I keep thinking that rows of chairs are too formal, but if I simply scatter them about, it looks very shabby.”

  “Ah. Perhaps a half circle, all facing toward your focal point.”

  Livi smiled. “Oh, you’re a dear, John. Do help me. Flip is snapping at crickets. She’s no assistance at all.”

  “I am not cranky,” Phillipa returned. “You change your mind every two minutes, and it’s making me dizzy.”

  With a muffled smile John began picking up the chairs and shifting them, forming a half moon facing the room’s eastern wall.

  A moment later Olivia breezed up to her. “Since John is here and is much more help than you are, why don’t you go and change for this evening?” she whispered.

  “I already did.”

  “Flip, please. This isn’t one of your reading club meetings.”

  Phillipa scowled, looking down at her blue muslin. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  Her sister sighed. “Nothing. If you don’t see anything wrong, then nothing’s wrong.” She hugged Phillipa. “Would you go make certain dinner is on schedule?”

  “Yes. Certainly.”

  She hurried down to speak with Cook, then headed back up to the drawing room. Inside she could hear conversation; Sonja Depris and her sister had arrived, together with what sounded like Henry Camden and the Elroy s
isters. For a moment she paused, looking down at her gown. Damnation. What she wore was perfectly acceptable for a small, informal dinner party. None of the guests other than John was likely even to notice her presence.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. Taking a breath, she opened the door and strolled back into the room. In small groups the remainder of Livi’s guests arrived, while she watched from one side of the room. She knew them all by name, and they were all perfectly nice, but other than the weather she couldn’t think of a thing about which she could converse with them. Well, the weather and Bennett Wolfe, but she didn’t want to talk about him. Not at the moment. She was too occupied with thinking about him.

  “You danced twice with Sir Bennett,” Sonja said, stopping in front of her.

  Phillipa blinked. So much for silent contemplation. “Did I?”

  “No one else danced two dances with him last night. How did you manage it?”

  “I’m sure I have no idea,” Phillipa returned, putting what was hopefully a baffled smile on her face.

  “And he let you hold his monkey. And he joined your team for lawn bowling. You must have some insight into his likes and dislikes.”

  “Sonja, I—”

  Miss Depris took her arm. “You can’t mean to save your information for Livi. That’s hardly fair for the rest of us. We all deserve an equal chance to charm him, don’t you think?”

  “I…yes. Certainly. But I don’t know anything.”

  “Oh, bosh. At least you must tell us which one of us he’s spoken about the most.”

  “What little conversation I’ve had with Captain Wolfe hasn’t been about his preference in ladies.” Not directly, anyway. She freed her arm and made a show of being interested in the chair arrangements.

  All Livi’s friends completely discounted her as a romantic rival. It never occurred to anyone that Bennett Wolfe might be interested in kissing her. For a moment she was tempted to inform Sonja that, according to Bennett, she happened to be one of his likes. Or she had been, until she’d spoken her mind to him today. But he’d deserved it, dash it all, for saying such things to her.