by Amelia Grey
“You need have no worry on that account. I’ll see Miss Fast is invited to whatever is most advantageous for her.”
“Excellent! And I assume you will still want me to be her companion and chaperone?” she asked in a softer voice.
“As long as you and Miss Fast are happy with the arrangement.”
“Oh, we are, we are. We get along quite well. And while you’re here, if I may make you aware that we really could do with a coach-and-four to be at our disposal as well as another servant or two.”
“Justine,” Marlena said. “We are perfectly fine without either.”
Her cousin ignored Marlena and continued. “Mrs. Doddle has been with me for years, and my lady’s maid, too. We have managed with just the two and no conveyance of our own, but now that Marlena will be entering Society, she will need more.” Justine fluttered her lashes.
Marlena wanted to say, What more? but, deciding not to embarrass her cousin further in front of the duke, she remained silent and steamed that Justine would say something that was so obviously untrue. They had no need of more servants. They had managed quite well for almost three years. And why have a coach when all the shopping one could do was an easy walk if Justine would just do it.
“I understand, Mrs. Abernathy. I’ll see that’s done, too.”
“Wonderful.” She smiled broadly and rolled her shoulders in a flirtatious way. “Mr. Olingworth has been kind but he had limitations as to what he could provide for us. I assume we’ll have no such limitations where you’re concerned, Your Grace.”
The duke glanced at Marlena but said nothing before turning his attention to Justine again and saying, “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.” He turned to walk away.
“Ah, Your Grace, yes, there is one more thing I would like to mention before you go, if you don’t mind?”
He stopped and looked at her but remained quiet.
“Marlena said you had offered us the opportunity to live in your larger home in Mayfair, but she declined.”
“Justine.” Marlena spoke up without hesitation this time, knowing where her cousin was going with the comment. Rude or not, embarrassing to Justine or not, she would not let her control this. “You know I declined and I still do. It was kind of His Grace to offer but we will not accept. I like living near Eugenia. I made it clear to both of you I will acquiesce to a lot of things in order to attend the Season, however unwillingly, and become some man’s wife so the duke will not have to care for me indefinitely, but on this issue I will remain adamant.”
“Yes, yes, of course, dear girl. I know how close you and Eugenia are, and I do enjoy a visit with her and her sister from time to time myself. I only wanted to make sure you didn’t have second thoughts about the idea and apparently you haven’t so I’ll just thank the duke for his generous offer to allow us to live in his much larger home.” Justine smiled sweetly at the duke again. “Thank you, Your Grace. Now I’ll walk you to the door.”
Justine fluttered by Marlena.
The duke gave Marlena a touch of a grin and a nod before he followed her cousin out of the room.
All Marlena could think was that he had almost kissed her.
He could have read the start of her scandal sheet, but if he knew what he was reading he gave no indication.
Marlena suddenly felt as if she’d somehow just dodged the balls of two pistols that were fired at her chest.
Chapter 9
He could be a rake if he tells his friends about a conversation he had with a young lady.
MISS HONORA TRUTH’S WORDS OF WISDOM AND WARNING ABOUT RAKES, SCOUNDRELS, ROGUES, AND LIBERTINES
Hell’s teeth, Rath thought as he opened the front door of his town house. Miss Fast would be the death of his sanity. He had wanted to kiss her. She had wanted to kiss him. And would have if not for her good sense to stick the handkerchief between them just before their lips touched. He knew it was wrong to allow a kiss but he would have.
A smile twitched the corner of his mouth. Thankfully she’d found a rather sobering and amusing way to say no. He could say that had never happened to him before.
She was his ward. A very appealing ward. He’d meant those things he’d told her about providing for and protecting her. Even against himself. He’d thought on it all the way home—which admittedly was a very short carriage ride—why, when he could probably kiss any available mistress, lady, or widow in London, had he felt so desperate to taste the lips of the one female who was completely off limits to him?
“Ah, that’s the problem,” he muttered to himself, plopping his hat down on the entryway table.
Forbidden fruit.
It had always been the most desirable, the tastiest, and the hardest to deny oneself. What he needed was a glass of port and a few minutes to relax quietly in front of the fire with his feet propped up so he could get his primal urges under control.
Too, it was best if from now on he spent as little time as possible at Miss Fast’s house. He didn’t need to be filled with the desire to ravish her. Not only was she his ward, but long ago he had taken an oath not to dally with innocent young ladies. And so far, he’d managed to keep that oath. He had no plans to break it now that he was nearing thirty and trying to make amends for proposing to Hawk and Griffin they send those damned secret admirer letters.
He couldn’t think about his ward as anything but a responsibility and an obligation that he must fulfill. And the hell of it was that it would be a whole lot easier if she still looked like the gangly youth holding a frog—toad—he’d first met.
Rath started taking off his leather gloves. Another irritation crossed his mind. Who the devil would have ever thought smelling salts were an objectionable item? They were a common product that should be in every household. And what did it matter what kind of bottle they were put in? He thought all women liked pretty things sitting around their houses.
“Hell’s teeth,” he murmured again under his breath. Rath was beginning to see why Mr. Olingworth allowed Miss Fast to have her way in so many things. Her previous guardian was a smart man. It probably didn’t take him long to figure out how much easier it would be to agree with her and let her have her way than debate her.
It was no wonder she had the mettle to speak with such confidence. Following five boys around a country estate for a few years would bolster anyone’s courage. Not that he minded her pert answers during their conversations. He actually enjoyed them, which in itself was unusual for him. The only ladies who’d spoken their minds to him so freely were his best friends’ sisters, Lady Vera, Lady Sara, and Lady Adele. And that was because he’d always thought of them and treated them as if they were his sisters, too.
Though his mother had died when he was way too young to remember her, Rath had still been around women all his life. He enjoyed them. They enjoyed him. He was good to them and in turn, they were good to him. From his nurse, to his governesses, to servants, and in later years mistresses, widows, and young ladies. But not even his friends’ sisters Lady Vera, Lady Sara, and Lady Adele had questioned him or challenged to the extent Miss Fast had. And she did so without contemplation, fear, or regret.
“Your Grace, let me help you with that,” Sneeds said, rushing into the vestibule as fast as his short, sturdy legs would carry his rotund body. “I didn’t hear your carriage drive up or I would have been at the door waiting for you.”
His new butler was another person who didn’t seem to listen to him, Rath thought, throwing his gloves onto the top of his hat. But after his verbal boxing rounds with Miss Fast, he was in no mood to tell the eager-to-please Sneeds one more time that he needed no help removing his cloak, hat, or gloves. There were just some things a man wanted to do for himself.
“Your colleagues the Duke of Griffin and the Duke of Hawksthorn are here to see you.”
Rath inhaled a deep silent breath. He expected them. Just not this soon. So much for his hope of a few minutes of leisurely time alone in front of a warm fire with a strong drink
to think about the feelings Miss Fast had stirred inside him. It certainly hadn’t taken Esmeralda and Loretta long to inform their husbands about his venture into the unknown lion’s den earlier in the day.
“I did as you instructed me last time they were here and settled them in your book room with a bottle of your best brandy,” he said, helping to pull the cloak from Rath’s shoulders. “Would you like for me to pour a glass for you or would you prefer to be alone with them as before?”
“Alone, Sneeds. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Rath walked down the corridor, taking off his coat and then rolling his shoulders a few times. If there was one thing he could be in his own home, in front of his boyhood friends, it was comfortable. Though this day he didn’t know how comfortable their conversation would be.
But he’d handle it. He always had.
The three dukes had been friends since Rath’s first year at Oxford. He was a year younger than Griffin and Hawk, but it hadn’t taken him long to discover those were the two he wanted as his friends. They were the smartest in the class, courageous, and fair. They loved a good escapade, and a little bit of trouble, as much as he did.
Though a strong friendship had already been established between Griffin and Hawk, Rath knew how to get their attention. He’d hidden a bottle of port in the fake bottom of his satchel. They were more than happy to help him drink it then—and all the other times he’d managed to slip a flask or two into the school without any of the headmasters knowing.
Their friendships hadn’t ended but their long nights of drinking, gaming, and voraciously indulging in extravagant behavior of the previous ten years had. The other two rakes had married. In all their experiences together over the years there had been many times one had tried to beat the other two, whether it be a wager about gaming, shooting, racing their horses, or the favor of a woman, but they’d never had a lasting quarrel.
He hoped tonight wouldn’t be the first.
Rath strode into his book room seeing a familiar sight. Hawk and Griffin sat on opposite sides of the dark-blue velvet-covered settee. Both were tall, well-built, and handsome men, some would say. Unlike most dukes and other peers, they weren’t stiff or haughty in their appearance or ways. They wore their privilege as easily as most gentlemen wore their neckcloths. There really wasn’t much difference in the two, save for the fact that Griffin had dark-brown hair and blue eyes while Hawk’s hair was a lighter shade and his eyes decidedly green.
Both held a glass of brandy. Griffin had one booted foot resting on the opposite knee, while Hawk’s legs stretched out before him with his feet crossed at the ankles. There was no doubt his friends felt at ease in his house. They always had, and he in theirs. What surprised Rath was that they didn’t look as if they wanted to rain hellfire down on his head for being caught by their wives in a ladies’ unmentionables shop.
“Do either of you need a refill?” he asked, throwing his coat on his desk and making his way over to the opposite side, where the brandy was sitting on a tray.
“Not me,” Griffin said.
“I’m good,” Hawk added.
Rath poured a generous splash of the amber liquid into a glass and took a sizable swallow before turning around. He swung one of the upholstered wingback chairs away from the low-burning fire to face his friends. After settling himself onto the cushion, he took another drink from his glass and waited. He wasn’t going to bring up the subject that was most assuredly on everyone’s minds.
Finally, Griffin said, “So you have a ward?”
A ward?
Why yes. He did have one, but that’s not the first question he expected to hear from either of the other two rakes. He supposed he should just be grateful he wasn’t being cursed, so he simply nodded.
“A young lady,” Hawk added.
Griffin’s brows knitted a little between his eyes. “Who is set to make her debut this Season?”
Rath nodded again. He saw no reason to answer anything they weren’t asking.
“Then why the hell didn’t you tell us?” Griffin asked, leaning forward in his seat.
Rath shrugged. “It was only settled a few days ago. I kept thinking I’d see one of you this week at White’s.”
“We don’t go out to the clubs as often as we used to,” Griffin admitted.
Rath knew and understood why. But he was still a bachelor and had different pursuits from the two husbands. They now had other duties to attend in the evenings, and they seemed more contented men for it. He was happy for them. At times he’d wondered what it would be like to go home to a wife and children running up to grab him around the legs. But usually when those thoughts came to his mind, he dismissed them quickly.
“We should have been the first to know,” Hawk added in a perturbed tone. “Not the last.”
“Surely long before our wives,” Griffin finished on an aggravated note before settling back against the settee again. “It shouldn’t have happened they knew before us.”
Other than Esmeralda and Loretta, Rath had told no one but Miss Fast and her cousin. He had no idea how many people they might have told. It couldn’t have been many. There had been no mention of it that he’d heard at White’s or any of the other clubs where he’d spent time the past few days.
“It wasn’t my intention, it’s just the way it happened. I had good reason for mentioning my ward to Esmeralda today.”
“So she told me,” Griffin said and then cleared his throat.
Hawk took a drink from his glass but never took his gaze off Rath and asked, “Who is she?”
Griffin leaned forward again. “What I want to know is how did you become her guardian?”
“You didn’t do anything that caused you to be tricked into doing this for someone, did you?”
“Did this come about because you lost a wager?”
“Or won one?” Hawk questioned.
Rath held up his hand to stop the barrage of questions and huffed a tired laugh. Not that he hadn’t been capable of being in that position in the past—he had and more than once—but like the other two rakes sitting in front of him, he’d mended his ways. Somewhat, anyway. Surely not to the extent they had. He might not have a mistress, but he did fill his nights at the gaming tables with a stout drink by his side.
“Nothing of the kind. You both know I might have been guilty of such behavior in my younger days, but now I’m more sensible. I don’t wager horses, houses, businesses, or women.”
“Then what?” Griffin asked.
“It’s a long story.”
Griffin made himself comfortable again while he and Hawk looked at each other and then at Rath. He knew exactly what that meant. They weren’t going anywhere until they heard everything they wanted. Now he was wishing they were talking to him about their wives finding him at Miss Lola’s rather than his blunder of accepting responsibility of the alluring and intriguing Miss Fast.
“The truth of it is there are many reasons I became her guardian.” He shifted in the chair. It was never easy to explain oneself even to the people who knew you best.
“We’ve time to hear them all.”
Rath untied the bow in his neckcloth and loosened the fabric at his throat, something his father would have strongly objected to. A gentleman stayed completely dressed until he was ready to change or retire for the evening. But Rath had never tried to be the gentleman his father had been or commanded Rath to be. Much to his father’s disappointment. It simply wasn’t in Rath’s nature to always be properly dressed, to always say the polite thing whether or not it was true. Perhaps if his mother had lived past his sixth birthday, he would have been a better gentleman. She was a soft-spoken, gentle lady. A bright spot in his life that dimmed too quickly and went out. If she had been there to soothingly encourage him to do the right thing, instead of his father’s demanding ways, maybe Rath would have been a different man.
After another sip of his drink, Rath considered being complete
ly truthful, but did he really want to rattle off all the possible reasons he’d written that letter to Mr. Olingworth that night? Because my father would have expected me to finally step up, be a gentleman, and do it for the old man. Guilt because the secret admirer letters were my idea. Guilt because after the wager went awry the two of you had the obligations of your sisters to marry off and I didn’t. Feeling that in some way if I could help one young lady I might atone for the ones we embarrassed because of those letters.
And endless more.
No. Whether it was one reason or a host of reasons didn’t matter. He would keep them all to himself. There were some things that didn’t need to be shared even with men he’d known for what seemed like most of his life.
“Late one night, after having a few glasses of this”—he held up his brandy—“here in this room, I opened a letter from a man my father admired very much. Mr. Harold Olingworth. He’d written asking me to do it because his illness was progressing to the point he could no longer do so himself. By the time the bottle was empty, I’d picked up a quill and agreed to accept responsibility for her. The next day I had a clearer head and had come to my senses. I came in here to destroy the letter only to find that my new, eager-to-please butler had already posted it and was delighted to tell me it was on the early-morning mail coach already heading on its way out of town.”
Griffin smiled. “When you were a younger man you wouldn’t have made a mistake like that.”
Hawk chuckled low in his throat. “So after all these years, fate finally decided to stop smiling on you at every turn and there was something you botched.”
Rath took a drink. Fate wasn’t something he thought a lot about. And he was no longer sure he’d botched this. Miss Fast was a challenge, and that suited him right now.
“You could have gone to see the old man and explained that you’d made a rash decision and couldn’t possibly be trustworthy for an innocent young lady’s welfare.”
Always the levelheaded one of the three rakes, Rath expected a comment like that from Griffin. None of them were saints when they entered Oxford or Society. Instead of appreciating and revering their titles, the three had chased only what they desired, and that was drinking, wagering, gambling, and ladies of the evening.