Too Hot For A Rake

by Pearl Wolf

  Helena allowed herself the luxury of renewed hope. The dowager knows something she’s not telling us. Will it be enough to change Father’s mind? “Will you take a letter to my mother as well, Desmond? I’ll write it later tonight.”

  “If I’m to leave at first light, you must all excuse me, for I need a good night’s sleep. I bid you all good night,” Waverley said after tea was served.

  Waverley was almost asleep when Helena entered his chamber, her letter to her mother in hand. She set the letter down on the table and removed her dressing gown. Desmond’s eyes turned smoky as he feasted on the sweet sight before his eyes, for she wore nothing underneath. “Temptress! You’re making it impossible for me to wait till our wedding night, you know.”

  She lifted the covers and climbed in next to him. “Have you forgotten? We’ve already had our wedding night. It remains only for me to bear our child, but I can’t do that without your help. Shall we begin?”

  He laughed. “The last time you climbed into my bed, you wretch, I was asleep and you thought I was someone else. I’m fully awake now.”

  “So much the better.”

  Her lips rained soft kisses all over his face, but her hands were by no means idle. His nipples turned hard under her caresses, which brought a smile. “You like that, my rake? And what of this?”

  Her hair brushed his chest, a mere whisper as she bent to kiss his navel, but when she moved lower, he stopped her and groaned. “Where did you learn such sinful tricks, vixen?”

  “Don’t you like it? I rather thought you would.” She feathered her fingers across his thighs. “How about this?” She continued to fondle him and he groaned. “Did your French alphabet ladies pleasure you as much as this? Alas, I should have asked them for advice before they were banished from England’s shores. No matter. You can advise me. Am I pleasing you properly?”

  “You’ve no need of advice from anyone, my darling. The pleasure’s all mine, but you deserve a reward for your…er…diligence.” He rose and turned her on her back.

  “Shall I please you thus?” He took her nipple in his mouth and she gasped. “Or thus?” He buried his tongue deep inside her mouth.

  His hand spread her legs apart and found her wet with desire. He stopped a moment, his eyes feasting on her, his ears listening to her quickened breathing.

  “Don’t stop, Desmond,” she moaned. To urge him on, she raked his back with her fingernails.

  “You are God’s work of art, my love. Allow me a moment to admire His creation.”

  “But only a moment,” she pleaded. “I need my reward.”

  He barked a laugh. “You are a lusty treasure, my love.” His lips found the place he knew would drive her wild. “And besides, I never had the urge to do this to any one of my alphabet soup courtesans, I promise you.”

  Helena arched her back when his tongue teased that most vulnerable spot. “Desmond! Wh…what are you d…doing?”

  He raised his head and grinned at her. “Be quiet, shrew! This is no time for words. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  She lost all thought under his merciless assault, writhing and arching her back to meet his attack, wanting more, wanting all he had to give. When waves of ecstasy ripped through her, she shouted for the sheer joy of release.

  Desmond lifted himself to reach her lips, his kiss muffling her screams. His body was slick with sweat, mingling, as it were, with hers. Her shudders of release welcomed his entrance, but he slowed deliberately, savoring the extravagance of her response. Her spasms of lust met his every thrust with reckless abandon until he could hold back no longer and his shudders of release met her own. He rolled onto his side at last, his breath pulsating rapidly.

  When her heartbeat slowed enough to allow speech, she said, “So this is what it feels like to be made love to by a rake.”

  “You have it all wrong, my love. A true rake thinks only of his own pleasure when he has a woman in his bed. If you must know, just now my only thought was how best to please my precious raven.” He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I think you’d better return to your room, dear heart. You must allow me a little time to sleep before I leave for London.”

  “Must I go so soon?” She laid her head on his chest, but her hands were busy. “Oh dear!” Her hand caressed his engorged member. “How can I leave you at a time like this?”

  “Good God, Helena! Enough! You’ll be the death of me yet!”

  London

  When his second plea to the duke fell on deaf ears, Waverley returned to Sebastian’s home where he was a guest, and ordered Rabu to pack and be ready to start for Land’s End in the morning.

  “As usual, your father-in-law refused me,” Waverley told Sebastian as soon as he returned from the home office that evening. “I leave in the morning.”

  “Bad luck, Waverley. I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t marry Helena now. The duke will disown her and I can’t let that happen no matter how much she protests that it doesn’t matter. It bloody well does matter, but she refuses to see that. I’m going abroad again just as soon as I can arrange proper care for my grandmother. It’s the only way I can think of to make Helena forget she ever knew me.”

  “Don’t bother to rush back to Waverley Park. I’ve had a letter from my wife. She and Helena have gone to Bodmin Castle. They’ve arranged for Vicar Cullum’s wife to stay with your grandmother until you return.”

  “A good choice. Grandmother is fond of Mrs. Cullum.”

  Sebastian eyed the marquis quizzically.

  “What’s the matter, Brooks?”

  “What’s all this about orgies? My wife writes that I must ask you.”

  Waverley laughed. “Your wife’s jest. She overheard a chance remark and implored me to arrange an orgy and invite you both. She has a wicked sense of humor, Brooks.”

  “The wretch! She’d jump at the chance, too. You won’t oblige her, will you?”

  “Of course not. I left those wild pursuits in Paris.”

  London: Heatham House

  “For the last time, Ellen, I cannot allow that scandalous rake to wed Helena. Such a marriage will be the ruin of her, I tell you. She forgot Darlington quickly enough, didn’t she? She’ll get over this suitor as well.”

  “You are making a mistake you will live to regret, your grace,” said the duchess icily.

  He glared at his wife. “You only call me ‘your grace’ when you’re angry, but you won’t change my mind. You must allow me to know what is best for my daughter. Tying herself to a rake for the rest of her life won’t do, I tell you. I love her too much to submit her to the censure and the isolation she will have to face.”

  “Let me remind you that Helena comes of age in August. She won’t need your approval then.”

  “Perhaps not, but if she marries Waverley, she will lose the acceptance of the polite world as well as her family, for I shall disown her.”

  “You may do as you please, but I can never disown my daughter. It isn’t in a mother’s power, but I don’t expect you to understand that. Good night.” She turned the handle to the door of her husband’s bedchamber.

  He watched in silence as the woman he loved slammed shut the door between their chambers. He heard the click of the lock quite clearly.

  When the duke descended the stairs the next morning, his eyes were heavy from lack of sleep, but they flew wide open when they met with an unexpected sight, for the hallway was littered with portmanteaus and trunks. A bevy of servants carried even more belongings from the direction of the back staircase. He sought out his butler. “What’s all this, Dunston?”

  “Her grace and the children are removing to Bodmin Castle,” the butler said, unprepared for his grace’s lack of knowledge of this event. He carefully hid his surprise at the question.

  The duke’s good breeding caused him to show no outward signs of distress at this terrible news. Instead, he asked casually, “Where is her grace?”

  “In the breakfast room, your grace.”

  The
duke turned and made his way there without another word. He entered to find his wife in the process of eating her customary breakfast of toast with jam and strong tea.

  “Good morning, your grace,” she said in an arctic tone of voice.

  The duke dismissed the attending footmen with a wave of his hand. “I don’t approve of your hasty departure, Ellen. Georgiana’s debut ball is only weeks away. You must stay home and attend to the details.”

  The duchess put her toast down. “Are you forbidding me to go, your grace?”

  “No. I’m merely suggesting…”

  She took a sip of tea, wiped her mouth with her napkin, folded her hands in her lap, and raised eyes filled with fury to her husband. “My daughter Helena is in distress. She needs her mother. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must gather the girls. I’m taking the children with me. I mean to take advantage of daylight travel. We leave within the hour.”

  His tone did nothing to mask his wretchedness. “Don’t punish me like this, Ellen, my love. I’m only doing what I think is right for my daughter.”

  “And I’m only doing what I think is right for my daughter, your grace. However, you may put your mind at ease on one point. Your daughters and I will return in time for Georgiana’s ball.”

  He attempted to lighten the mood. “At least I’ll have my grandson to keep me company.”

  “No, you won’t, your grace. He and his nurse are coming with us. The child needs his mother.”

  His face fell and he changed the subject. “Will Helena return for the ball, do you think?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Chapter 27

  Tuesday, the Nineteenth of May, 1818

  London: Heatham House

  “Lord Fairchild, your grace,” announced Dunston, but the duke’s younger brother was hard on his heels.

  “Come in, Charles. I was never more glad to see you in my life.”

  The vicar took in the troubled signs writ large on the duke’s pale face. “You look like the very devil, Tony. What’s the matter?” The duke never sent for him unless he found himself in trouble.

  “Ellen has taken the children and gone away,” the duke said.

  “Why?”

  “We’ve had a terrible row. She’s furious with me.”

  “Your wife has put up with your stormy tantrums for years without so much as raising her voice. What have you done this time to earn her displeasure?”

  “It’s my daughter Helena. She wants to marry a notorious rake, the Marquis of Waverley, and I refuse to give my consent.”

  “Helena is in love with the marquis, I take it?”

  The duke sighed in exasperation. “You remember Darlington, the lad next door, don’t you? Helena hectored me to distraction about her great love for him only to cry off in the end. My foolish child falls in and out of love with disturbing regularity,” the duke added bitterly.

  “Helena and your wife do not agree with your decision to withhold your blessing, I take it.”

  “I’m only doing what I think best for my daughter. Am I not her father? It is my duty to see to it that she doesn’t ruin her life.” His voice cracked on the last word. “She’s fallen in love with the wrong man again, Charles. What shall I do?”

  The vicar poured brandy into two glasses, measuring out a small amount for himself and filling his brother’s glass to the brim. “For a start, you must pull yourself together. Drink this, Tony and let me hear the whole of it.”

  When he heard the full tale, he said, “Have you sent for me to give my stamp of approval for the position you’ve taken, Tony?”

  “You’re my brother. Where else can I turn, if not to you?”

  The vicar fell silent for a time, as if searching for a diplomatic way to answer this question. “I’m flattered that you seek my advice, but I can’t support you in this, Tony. Not when I have a strong suspicion that you are in the wrong. Are you prepared to listen to some sound advice, or are you just going to wallow in pity and whine like a petulant child?”

  “Harsh words from you of all people, dear brother. I had hoped for some solace. A vicar surely knows how to ease the pain of a tortured soul, does he not?”

  “A vicar is not required to prevaricate to ease the pain of a tortured soul when he believes him to be in the wrong. If that’s all you desire, convert to Catholicism and confess your sins to a priest. He’ll absolve you with a recommendation to say a few Hail Marys or something like to cleanse your soul.”

  The duke glared at him, but he saw something in his younger brother’s eyes that melted his heart and he burst out laughing. “Damn you, Charles. You’ve always been able to coax a laugh out of me. Can you imagine me fumbling with rosary beads?”

  “That’s better! All that remains is for you to give orders to pack your things.”

  “Pack my things? Why?”

  “You’re going to Bodmin to straighten out this whole family mess.”

  “You’ll come with me?”

  His brother sighed. “I suppose I have no choice. Seems I can’t trust you on your own, big brother. I can’t allow you to muck things up with your high-handed ways.”

  London: The Home Office

  “What are you doing here, Hugh?” asked Sebastian.

  The spymaster grinned. “Try saying hello before you pepper me with questions, my friend. Classes have ended for this session and the home secretary sent for me to review the plans for graduation next month.”

  “Sorry, my friend. How are you?”

  “Never better. How is your family?”

  “Olivia is fine. She’s at Bodmin Castle with her sister. And little Tony’s on his way there with his grandmother as we speak.”

  “Bodmin, eh? The scene of your triumph, I recall. That’s where you wooed and won Olivia.”

  “I couldn’t have won her hand without your help. I’m taking some time off to…how would you like to come with me, Hugh? I’d be glad for the company and Livy would be delighted to see you again. Matter of fact,” Sebastian added with a bit of mischief, “the whole family’s taken up temporary residence there. Someone else besides my wife would be delighted to renew her acquaintance with you.”

  “Are you trying your hand at matchmaking?”

  Sebastian laughed. “You’d have to catch her first. Georgiana’s just turned seventeen, a stunning beauty, Hugh. She asks after you every time we meet. How about joining me?”

  “If I won’t be in the way?”

  “Nonsense. You’d be most welcome.”

  “Then I’d be delighted. I have some free time. When are we leaving?”

  Waverley Castle

  “Welcome home, my lord,” said the butler taking Waverley’s greatcoat.

  “How is my grandmother, Paynter?”

  “Her ladyship is well, my lord. You will find her resting in her chamber.”

  Waverley took the stairs two at a time. He opened her door quietly, reluctant to wake her, but she was sitting up in bed, a book in her hand.

  “Desmond!” the dowager said in happy surprise. “I missed you. Come here and let me look at you.”

  He kissed her cheek. “You look radiant, love. I’ve missed you as well.” He took the seat opposite her, still holding her hand.

  The dowager searched his face, guessing by the despair she saw that all had not gone as she had hoped in London. She turned to her nurse and dismissed her with a nod. “We are quite alone, my dear. Something tells me you met with resistance from the duke. Tell me the whole of it.”

  He rose and paced back and forth, deep lines forming on his forehead.

  “Take your time, dear. Shall I ring for some brandy?”

  “No. I’ll do it.” He rang and gave the order to a servant. While he waited, he unbuttoned his vest and loosened his neck cloth. He pulled his chair closer to his grandmother and gripped its arms so tight, his knuckles turned white, yet he did not speak until the servant had returned.

  “Better?” his grandmother asked when he had downed his first glass.
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  He smiled at her. “Somewhat, but brandy doesn’t do enough to ease the pain I feel. I dread having to tell Helena that her father continues to spurn my suit.”

  “That hypocrite! What reason did the duke give this time? Be precise, Desmond.”

  As if to cleanse his soul, his bitter words tumbled out in a rush. “The duke was adamant, Grandmother. Nothing I said would change his mind. ‘Once a rake, always a rake,’ he said. He’s right, you know. The ton will treat Helena as an outcast if she marries me. I can’t do that to her, Grandmother. She’s suffered enough pain from their vicious tongues. There’s nothing left for me to do but give up the woman I love.” He drew in his breath. “I’ve decided that it’s best, for her sake, to leave the country as soon as I can arrange for a suitable companion to care for you. It’s the only way. She’ll need time to forget me.”

  The dowager rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Leave the country? Give Helena time to forget you? What nonsense. Have you lost all your senses?”

  He took her hands in his. “No, I haven’t. This act is the only unselfish thing I have ever done, dearest. And I do it for love of her. I’m determined not to destroy her life. Her father is right. Can’t you see that?”

  “Her father is wrong! You’ll do no such thing! If you think I’ll let you go after all the years I’ve suffered without you, think again, my dear. Is the duchess in London?”

  “The duchess and her children are on their way to Bodmin Castle to be at Helena’s side in her time of need. I’m glad, for it will soften the blow for her.”

  The dowager rose from her seat. “Ring for a footman and send word to Cook. We dine early tonight.”

  “Why? Are you not feeling well, Grandmother?”

  “Never better. You’ll need a decent night’s sleep if you are to leave for Bodmin Castle in the morning.”

  “What purpose would that serve?” he asked wearily.

  “If the duchess has left London with her children, I have a strong suspicion that she and his grace do not share the same opinion on the question of your suit for Helena’s hand. If I’m any judge of character, the duchess is likely to take your side. Have you forgotten that I am her grace’s godmother? We women don’t think like men, my dear. We’re much more sensible. Humor your grandmother and summon Mrs. Hubley to help me dress for dinner. I have a great deal to reveal to you, my boy. I’ve never told anyone, for I don’t hold with gossiping. Nor do I hold with scandalmongers. They cause too much pain with their vicious tongues.”