It's All About the Duke--The Rakes of St. James

by Amelia Grey

  He listened to Marlena’s tale about Miss Everard’s brother-in-law and his penchant for collecting fossils and unusual specimens and artifacts. And how he’d gotten so carried away that he’d spent what was left of Miss Everard’s inheritance—the money intended for her upcoming Season—on the Megalosaurus eggs.

  “So you see, Mr. Wentfield is the one I’m most interested in as he was paid a large sum for the eggs. I was hoping to find him, write to him about what Mr. Portington had done, and ask him to buy back the eggs so Eugenia can have her Season. I know Justine would have insisted I stay out of their affairs so I didn’t want to ask her for help.”

  “I agree she would have and rightly so. I should do the same thing.”

  “But I won’t stay out of it. I’ve told you before that Eugenia is dear to me. I must help her and Veronica if I can.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He leaned against the seat back and watched Marlena. Determination was written all over her face. “It’s kind of you to want to help Miss Everard, but I’m afraid my solicitor reached an empty bottom concerning Mr. Wentfield. He couldn’t find any reference to the man.”

  She blinked slowly, letting his words sink in. “Not anywhere? Not even an article written by him? What school he attended? An address?” She looked down at the thick stack sitting under Rath’s hat. “All of that and none of it about Mr. Wentfield?”

  Rath wasn’t getting a good feeling about Wentfield. “Not a word.” Tut had wandered over, and he reached down and gave him pat on his shoulder. The dog then settled down by Rath’s boots and curled into a ball to nap.

  “I find that hard to believe.” Marlena huffed. “Mr. Portington has purchased things from him before—there were the dragon bones just a few months ago. I—I just assumed he was as well known in the field as Mr. Buckland.”

  Rath didn’t want to tell Marlena he was beginning to believe that Mr. Portington had been tricked. Using a made-up name was essential if a person wanted to lure an unsuspecting chap into a scheme and abscond with his money—especially if the person was as gullible as Mr. Portington seemed to be. The only thing Rath knew to do was hire a thief taker from Bow Street to see if he could find out enough about Wentfield to locate the man.

  Marlena’s fan-shaped brows furrowed again and she bit down on her bottom lip before saying, “I wonder how it can be that nothing was found about him. Perhaps the—”

  “No,” he said. “My solicitor was quite thorough, but I’ll have the matter looked into again.”

  “I would be most grateful for any assistance you can give me—I mean give Eugenia—on this. I really don’t know how to help her. She needs to have a Season.”

  “Are you sure Mr. Portington used all of her inheritance?”

  “Veronica says it’s so. She’s very disturbed about what her husband has done. She’s not a strong person, and sometimes I fear for her well-being.”

  He could tell by Marlena’s expression that she wasn’t exaggerating her concern for her neighbor and friend. “That sounds serious.”

  “I do believe it is for her. The past few years Mr. Portington has become increasingly more reckless with spending his allowance, and obviously he’s spent Eugenia’s, too. He purchases so many unusual things, and there’s really not room in the house for more, yet he keeps buying. He doesn’t seem to notice how it disturbs Veronica and Eugenia.”

  “So Mr. Portington isn’t concerned about their distress?”

  Her eyes widened and she quickly said, “I don’t think I should have disclosed that much to you. I really hate that I have to be talking about their private life at all.”

  Rath put her at ease by saying, “I am not one to spread gossip about people, Miss Fast. So anything you say will go no further than my hearing.”

  Seeming bothered by his words, she quickly looked away from him and said, “Yes, gossip can spread quickly.” She turned back to him and added, “That is an admirable way to be, Your Grace. In any case, I must help the sisters if possible. Mr. Portington seems unwilling to do anything to change his destructive ways.”

  Rath had listened carefully to all her story. Her eyes, her expression told him she believed every word she was saying. He knew many men with gambling and drinking habits they couldn’t control even though it appeared some tried hard to do so. It was a damnable thing he was sure. Some were not able or perhaps just not willing to give up their mistresses or tavern wenches when they married and no longer had need for such services. But he’d never heard of one that had a penchant for collecting oddities. A man should never let anything take control of him.

  But all he said to Marlena was, “Or perhaps it’s that he’s incapable of changing his ways.”

  “Can’t or won’t. Either way it is a sad situation for the sisters.”

  She clasped her hands in her lap and looked down at them.

  “I can see this bothers you greatly.”

  “More than I can say. I’ve helped them in little ways since I moved next door, but the task gets harder.”

  She didn’t lift her lashes and look into his eyes. She wasn’t telling him everything. There was still something she didn’t want him to know. He sensed it but he wouldn’t press her at this time. He could be patient—the mark of a gentleman, his father always said.

  “It’s kind of you to want to help, but I agree you are limited in what you can do.”

  “Yes. That’s a good way to say it. I need to find Mr. Wentfield and ask him to buy back the eggs.”

  Portington was obviously an odd boot. No wonder Miss Everard was so fainthearted. And the man’s wife, too. Looking at Marlena, with the breeze stirring her hair, making her nose a little red and her cheeks pink, Rath knew he would never let her marry such a man as Portington.

  That thought caused Rath’s gut to twist. He didn’t want to think about her marrying at all right now. He only wanted to consider what he could do for her. It was noble to help her friends. She was kind and loyal to them, and he wanted to be that way for her.

  “It’s not wise for you to approach either man. I don’t know Wentfield, but I’d bet a gold coin he’s not going to buy back the eggs. Perhaps I can speak to Mr. Portington if you would like?”

  Her attention returned to Rath. “Oh, I don’t think that would be wise, either. He probably wouldn’t like it if he knew Veronica had told me or I’d told you he had spent his sister-in-law’s inheritance on questionable reptile eggs.”

  Rath loved the way her eyes sparkled when she perceived something was wrong. “Nothing as confrontational as that, I assure you. No, I was thinking along the lines of asking him if I could examine his fossil collection.”

  “Are you interested in such things?”

  “I can’t say that I am, but I don’t have to tell Mr. Portington that. I can suggest to him that I want to buy some of his collection? Enough to see to it your friend can have a proper Season.”

  Marlena’s face filled with hope. “Would you do that?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re happy unless you are taking issue with me about something. Everything. I just offered to do it, but it would be up to Miss Everard’s sister to see to it Portington used it for its intended purpose.”

  “I’m sure she would. I don’t know what to say. I never expected to hear you suggest helping someone you don’t know. I mean, you’re a duke.”

  “I admit it’s a rarity, but I have been known to be kind once or twice in my life and do something for someone without having been asked.”

  Her face lit with happiness. “That would be too wonderful for words,” she exclaimed, and then she reached over and hugged him with the softest feminine strength he’d ever felt.

  Rath didn’t know if he had ever been so surprised to have slender, womanly arms stretched around his neck. Marlena clutched at his shoulders with gentle hands. Her cheek grazed his and her hat fell to the back of her shoulders as she buried her cold nose against the warmth of his neck. A throb of sensual hunger flowed through him when
he felt her breath on his skin.

  She leaned into his chest for a few seconds and his heart pounded. Through his velvet waistcoat and linen shirt, he felt her soft breasts pressing against him. His body responded quickly again. Though she held him tightly for only a few seconds, it was long enough for him to know he wanted more of her arms around him.

  And her in his arms.

  Just as he moved to catch her up to his chest and kiss her soundly on the lips, she slowly pushed away from him. Her arms slid from around his neck, the tips of her fingers tickling his skin. Her hands then skimmed over his shoulders, down his upper arms, and across his forearms before her touch left him. It took all the will and strength he could muster to let her draw away and not pull her back into his embrace and demand the kiss he was longing for.

  “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” she said, clasping her hands together in her lap again as if to keep herself from touching him. “It was very forward of me. My only excuse is that I’m used to hugging Eugenia when she does things for me and makes me happy.”

  He could tell she’d shocked herself as much as she had him by her unexpected affectionate display. “No need to explain. It’s a nice way to say thank you.”

  “I—I, all right,” she answered a little shyly. “What would you do with the fossils if Mr. Portington allowed you to purchase any of them?”

  Rath didn’t know. He hadn’t thought that far ahead about what he’d offered to do. Right now he was more interested in feeling Marlena’s arms around him again than pondering what he’d do with ancient reptile bones and fossilized eggs.

  “I’m not certain,” he answered, and as soon as he said that, an idea came to him. “One possibility is that I could probably donate them to the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford. If they could authenticate them and wanted them. That might be a commendable way to make amends to the institution for all the trouble I caused when I was there.”

  She smiled and a small, soft burst of laughter passed her lips. She looked enchanting.

  “You were a troublemaker?”

  He nodded guiltily. “Of the worst kind, I’m afraid. I encouraged others to join my pursuits. The headmaster told my father more than once they should throw me out for leading other young men to stray from the strict rules they demanded we follow.”

  “Then it sounds as if a gift from you might be appreciated by them.”

  Rath stared at Marlena and wondered how long it had been since he’d seduced a woman. Not for many years anyway. He never had to. They always seduced him. From the moment he’d walk through the doorway of a mistress’ house or a widow’s drawing room, they were set to seducing him. He let them, of course. It didn’t mean he wasn’t willing or that he had no care for the woman’s pleasure. He just never had to pursue a lady anymore.

  But now he wanted to pursue his ward.

  He shouldn’t.

  He couldn’t.

  Rath reached into his coat pocket and extended his folded handkerchief to Marlena.

  She looked at it curiously and said, “I’m not going to cry over this, Your Grace. Though I’m distressed for Eugenia’s and Veronica’s plight, I think I can manage not to get teary-eyed about their situation.”

  “I didn’t think you were. That’s not why I’m trying to give you my handkerchief.”

  She laughed softly and relaxed against the back of the bench, seeming more at ease than she’d been since his arrival. Rath was certain he’d never seen anyone as lovely as Marlena on a sunny day wearing a straw hat on her shoulders and smiling at him, not because she wanted something—his attention, his power, his favor—but because she was simply enjoying time with him.

  He never expected it of his ward, but he was enamored by her. He wanted to hold her supple body next to his, feel her in his arms, and kiss her beautifully shaped lips, no matter of the wrongness of it.

  “I can tell you right now, Your Grace, you will never fool me again as you did the first day you came to my house. Even though we are in the garden, I know I don’t have a bee, a ladybug, or anything else on my cheek. So if there is dirt, a grass stain, or even a piece of dried leaf or twig on my face, it can stay there.”

  “That is a clever assessment, Marlena, but I’m not trying to fool you this time. I am being truthful.”

  Rath leaned toward her and lowered his head closer to hers. Despite knowing it was not the right thing to do, he wanted to kiss her. He simply didn’t want to stop himself.

  And he wouldn’t.

  She would have to do it, and she’d proved herself capable before.

  Rath laid the handkerchief on top of her hands, which were still resting in her lap. “This was a very effective tool to remind me we shouldn’t kiss. I’m giving it back to you so you can use it now to keep yourself from kissing me.”

  “Me kiss you?”

  He nodded.

  She looked down at the handkerchief resting on the top of her fingers and then back to his eyes. There wasn’t an immediate answer from her. He took that as a good sign. She was contemplating. He had no doubt she wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know if she would give in to the desire that was so very strong between them and do it.

  “That is,” Rath added, “if you want to kiss me.”

  Chapter 13

  He could be a rake if he offers a lady his handkerchief.

  MISS HONORA TRUTH’S WORDS OF WISDOM AND WARNING ABOUT RAKES, SCOUNDRELS, ROGUES, AND LIBERTINES

  Oh, he was a rake of the highest order.

  Of course, she wanted to kiss him.

  But shouldn’t he just catch her up against his chest and kiss her madly, force a kiss on her whether or not she wanted him to? He was a rake. Shouldn’t he act like one?

  Apparently not.

  He knew she wanted him to kiss her. Was dying for him to kiss her. Why couldn’t he just do it? Without her making the first move. Wasn’t that what rakes were supposed to do?

  Marlena sat silent.

  And so did the duke.

  It wasn’t fair. He had been the one promising her a kiss almost from the first day he arrived at her door with his short, captivating glances, long compelling gazes, and provocative words that kept her wanting more and more attention from him. Why did he want it to be her decision whether or not they kissed? And how could she once again be contemplating it at all? She should be feeling nothing but shame over her desire for him.

  He was a rake, a rascal, and a scoundrel! But more than that, he was indirectly responsibility for Veronica marrying Mr. Portington. And Marlena had no idea how many of the other young ladies’ lives the Rakes of St. James had upended by their secret admirer letters.

  And why, after all his years of being a scoundrel of the highest order, would he decide at this very moment to be a gentleman and not kiss her?

  Maybe this was his plan all along, because he was a master of seduction? For surely he knew that denying her his kiss made her want it all the more. Her outrage over his past couldn’t extinguish the continuing attraction she had for him. He stirred emotions inside her that were too complicated for her to understand right now.

  Marlena kept her hands still, the handkerchief resting on top of them. “Why are you making this my decision?”

  “You are an innocent.”

  “Why does that matter to you? You have kissed innocent young ladies before, haven’t you?”

  His gaze searched hers. “Not for a long time.”

  “Because?”

  “You don’t mind asking personal questions, do you, Marlena?”

  “It’s the usual way one gets answers.”

  A grin broke across his masculine features and she realized she liked it when he looked at her like that. He quirked his head a little as a breeze scattered his dark locks across his forehead, reminding her of a brazen pirate yet again.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll tell you. Long ago I made a vow not to pursue innocent young ladies.”

  She turned her head back to him. “After the secret admirer lett
ers?”

  “No, before then. When I realized young ladies’ hearts are too easily given and too easily broken. When I found out they believed a few kisses was a promise of marriage.”

  “Did that happen to you? A young lady thought you intended marriage because you kissed her.”

  “Twice, much to my father’s dismay, before I understood that it was best to seek comfort in the arms of a mistress or widow who had no illusions of marriage between us.”

  Marlena cleared her throat. “Perhaps that was more than I wanted to know. I’m surprised you admitted it to me.”

  “I think you understand men more than you realize, Marlena.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You would have never followed your cousins into a swamp or a cemetery unless you were quite sure they were looking out for you and would see to it you returned home safely. Since there were five of them, no doubt two of them stayed behind watching over you while the other three ran ahead of you.”

  “Perhaps they did.” She smiled, remembering that her parents were watching over her, too. “It’s true the boys taught me more than just the difference between a frog and a toad and how to get down from a tree once I had climbed up it. I’ve missed them.”

  “Where are they now? Are you still in touch with them?”

  “No, I haven’t heard from my aunt in several years now. My uncle had a restless spirit, I think. He wanted to take his family to America and seek their fortunes there.” She sighed softly. “My aunt wasn’t happy but wouldn’t defy her husband. She didn’t think it fair to take me from my homeland and the life my parents expected me to have. That’s when my uncle arranged for me to live with Mr. Olingworth.”

  “You’ve missed being part of a big family?”

  Oh, yes, she had. She’d cried quietly in her room for weeks.

  “Terribly at first. But Mr. Olingworth was kind and allowed me to play outside and roam about his spacious gardens. It made me feel closer to them, helped me remember them. And then it wasn’t long before Mr. Olingworth had me busy most days learning my lessons, reading, and sewing. All the things a proper young lady needs to know, but I never forgot chasing after the boys. Yelling for them to wait for me. Proving to them I wasn’t afraid of a worm, the dark, or tomorrow.” She stopped and smiled with sweet remembrance of those wonderful carefree days that helped make her strong. Strong enough to take on three dukes—even if it was anonymously.