A Rogue of My Own (8 page)

R
EBECCA LEFT THE DUCHESS’S
chambers early to prepare for the formal dinner that night. She didn’t notice Rupert leaning against the wall in the hallway outside the chambers since she set off at a brisk pace in the opposite direction. Her mood had soured. She told herself that she was returning to her room early so Flora wouldn’t feel rushed in getting both her and her roommate ready for tonight, but in fact she just wanted to know if her roommate had made an appearance there.

When Elizabeth hadn’t returned to the duchess’s chambers, Rebecca guessed that she and Rupert had gone off someplace where they could really be alone—to make love. The thought had put her in a bad mood for the rest of the afternoon, and she
really
wanted to be proven wrong, to find that Elizabeth had spent time alone in their room instead.

“You’re a hard lady to find.”

She nearly tripped on her skirt when she heard Rupert’s voice and she turned to see him walking alongside her. She really had to stop having this immediate bedazzled response to
him. It wasn’t quite so bad or so long now, but still, she’d seen and spoken to him enough now that it shouldn’t be happening at all to her anymore.

As for his sudden appearance, she wondered if he had been waiting outside the duchess’s chambers for Elizabeth to come out. Perhaps he hadn’t spent the entire afternoon with her after all. Rebecca’s mood brightened a little with that thought.

But she didn’t believe for a minute that he’d been looking for her. “Nonsense,” she said as she continued down the hall. “If you wanted to speak to me, you could have knocked on the door.”

“No, that wasn’t an option.”

“Why not?”

“For the same reason we couldn’t have had more’n one dance last night. Tongues will wag.”

She doubted that was his reason. When he spread his charm around so much,
who
could keep track? It was more likely that he just didn’t want Elizabeth to know about it. That might even have been why the girl had appeared upset with him earlier. She might have been upbraiding him for dancing with Rebecca last night.

She rounded the corner at the end of the hall. He hadn’t gone away, was still keeping pace with her. She was starting to feel a little too thrilled by the encounter.

To temper her excitement, she said, “Is this to be another interrogation, then? Or those dire warnings you mentioned?”

Instead of answering, Rupert abruptly stepped in front of her. She wasn’t quick enough to stop in time and slammed into him, which he must have known would happen. Surprised, she nonetheless pushed away from him. He didn’t try to stop her, he just extended an arm to make sure she moved to the side of
the hall, with her back against the wall. He put his hand against the wall to block her from the direction in which she’d been heading.

The position so reminded her of how she’d seen him standing with Elizabeth last night that she guessed it was a practice of his, to trap women this way for his flirtations. Most were probably delighted. She wasn’t.

“You do have a lot to say about nothing, don’t you?” He said it huskily and so close to her face that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Standing
this
close to him set her pulses racing! Maybe she didn’t mind the position after all.

“Cat got your tongue now, Becca?”

Rebecca realized he was probably also used to women being so surprised by his boldness that they didn’t react to it as quickly and indignantly as they should. She was no exception. It didn’t occur to her to wonder how he had come by her name when she hadn’t given it to him.

All she could think to say was “Don’t call me that.”

“Then you aren’t Rebecca Marshall?”

“Yes, but we haven’t known each other long enough for you to be so familiar with me.”

He laughed. “Putting on indignant airs again, luv? I thought we established that I never do anything in a proper fashion. It’s
such
a waste of time, you know.”

“No, it isn’t,” she disagreed hotly. “It’s how things are done!”

“If you want to be boring. Can you really imagine me being boring?”

Proper etiquette certainly wouldn’t make him boring! Did he not realize how exciting his mere presence could be? But she grasped the point he was making. He must think women
expected him to be outrageous because of his reputation. Or maybe he just liked to shock women because it gave him an advantage. And maybe she ought to stop making excuses for him. A rogue was a rogue, and in his case his behavior might simply come naturally to him.

But she did allow herself to admit, “I don’t think it’s possible for you to be boring even if you tried.”

To go by the slight widening of his pale blue eyes, she’d surprised him. Why? Oh, good grief, had she just complimented him? She blushed and hoped he wouldn’t notice with his tall form casting a shadow over her.

“Are we having this conversation for a reason?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

He grinned. “Aren’t you the impatient one. You don’t want to simply bask in my undivided attention? I’m wounded, ’deed I am.”

She rolled her eyes. Excellent! At least she’d recovered from that compliment after all.

He leaned a little closer to add, “D’you really think I need a reason to talk to a beautiful woman? Let me assure you, I don’t. But
as
it happens, it occurred to me that you might need my help.”

The mention of help made her immediately think of Nigel Jennings and what he had asked of her. Had Rupert seen him and been told he was to be their go-between? And that letter she was to give him!

“Yes,” she said, “and I have—”

“If you’re going to continue to do Sarah’s bidding,” he cut in, “you may need to woo some lucky chap to distraction as you implied the other night. Having admitted you don’t know how, I have decided to offer my help in that regard.”

With his gaze turning decidedly sensual, she would have had to be stupid not to realize he was about to kiss her. Paralyzed with anticipation, she couldn’t have said anything at that point even if she wanted to. Nor did she realize that she was missing the opportunity he’d just given her to deny any further involvement with Sarah.

And he did kiss her, oblivious of servants appearing and disappearing in the distance. Rebecca certainly didn’t notice them. His kiss was so much more than she was prepared for, in touch, in taste, in the wonder of discovery. She wasn’t overwhelmed—well, she was—but it seemed more that she just willingly succumbed to the gentle pressure of his mouth as his lips caressed and aroused all of her senses.

She really wished her mother had explained as much about kissing as she had about lovemaking when they had finally discussed that enlightening subject last year. Was her entire body supposed to be as involved as Rupert was involving it as he pulled her so closely into his arms? Was she supposed to feel so much of him and be so thrilled by it?

“What a delightful surprise you are,” he said as he slowly rubbed his cheek against hers in such an intimate manner that it felt like a caress.

Rebecca would have preferred not to come out of that sensual daze. But it was necessary in order to concentrate on what he was saying. She didn’t want to miss a single word.

But his remark smacked of insincerity, and she didn’t doubt dozens of women had heard the exact same thing from him.

“You don’t need to use your typical blandishments on me, you know.”

“Typical, eh?” He leaned back with a grin. “It’s true that I find most women delightful, but believe me, luv, I rarely am
surprised by them. You, on the other hand, have been one surprise after another.”

She couldn’t imagine how she’d surprised him, but that remark did sound more sincere. Yet she felt he was still just telling her what he thought she wanted to hear. Were the lines ingrained in him after so many years of skirt-chasing? Or were they a deliberate, contrived part of his seduction routines? She wanted to believe him, however, and that didn’t surprise
her
at all.

Her attraction to him was over-the-top, far, far beyond anything she’d experienced before. Not that she had much experience of men to draw on. But for Rupert to feel even a small measure of delight about her would thrill her beyond measure.

“Now that your mind is clear again, shall we continue the lesson?”

Lesson? Oh, good God, she’d completely forgotten that this started with his offer of help. She began to blush for having read so much more into that remarkable kiss than he had intended. But he hadn’t finished.

“You need to be able to do this without any emotion involved,” he warned her. “So I think we should practice till you get it right and it becomes so mundane that you are in complete control.”

Was that how it was for him? Just a mundane prelude to his lovemaking? She was hurt
and
insulted, a powerful combination that she was quick to react to. “Do us both a favor and don’t do
me
any more favors. You, sir, are a rogue!” she snapped, and marched off.

“You don’t think that puts me off, do you?” he called after her with a chuckle.

She didn’t answer, but she did swing around to toss Nigel’s
envelope at him. Too bad it didn’t hit him and only fell at his feet.

He just laughed all the more as he picked up the note without even glancing at it and stuffed it in his pocket. “If you wanted to hit me, luv, a slap would have been more in line, don’t you think? Though you might have been amazed by my reaction to it.”

She wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t need to. He was looking entirely too wicked as he said it. And he had resorted to a raised voice to be heard. She wasn’t about to raise hers. Turning about, she was determined to get far away from him.

She thought she heard him say “Coward,” but she just wasn’t sure.

A
LTHOUGH THE DUCHESS OF
Kent was still quite a vigorous woman in her midfifties, her dinner party turned out to be boring, with only her ladies and maidens invited to celebrate the arrival of the duchess’s dear old friend. Even though most of the women present were English-born, the duchess didn’t even attempt to converse in English. Which resulted in the ladies chatting about nothing of particular interest in a desultory fashion so the duchess wouldn’t feel excluded. Rebecca found her mind wandering to the events of the day.

Elizabeth had apparently returned to their room much earlier than Rebecca and had dressed for the duchess’s dinner. When Rebecca arrived, the girl did no more than shove past her through the doorway, giving her a fulminating glare as she departed. Rebecca had sighed. Was she going to have to start guarding her back or worry about sleeping in the same bed with the lady? Whatever had started it, Elizabeth’s animosity toward Rebecca had intensified with the added jealousy over Rupert.

After Elizabeth left the room, Rebecca turned to Flora and asked, “When did she return here?”

“Less than an hour after the gentleman showed up.”

“Someone came here looking for one of us?”

“No, he came to the wrong room, even managed to say so as he backed out of the door in embarrassment. His surprise was understandable, though. He probably didn’t expect to find a maid in the room sitting here doing nothing.”

“Are you scolding me? You don’t have to stay in the room all day, you know. I doubt I’ll require a change of clothes for luncheons. Mornings and evenings should be all that’s necessary.”

“I know my duty, and it’s to be available
if
I’m needed, not sitting in my flat doing nothing either. Besides, the man’s showing up definitely livened up the day. Never seen a fellow so far beyond handsome. I sat here with my mouth hanging open even after he’d closed the door.”

Rebecca was bemused. Only one man she knew fit that description. “Long black hair, very pale blue eyes?”

Flora gasped. “You actually know him?”

“It sounds like it. Rupert St. John, a nephew of our most illustrious neighbor, the duke. Rupert and Elizabeth are—friendly.”

“No,” Flora replied doubtfully.

“Yes. And they did have a meeting today, so he must have been mistaken about the location if he came here first.”

That would explain why it had seemed as if he’d been late to his meeting with Elizabeth. Could he really have made such an unlikely mistake? But she was forgetting that he probably had many assignations every day!

“It must not have gone well,” Flora speculated.

“What?”

“Their meeting today. The lady was crying when she came back to the room. I could tell. Not one word did she say. She just sat at the vanity all glassy-eyed.”

Now that was a surprise, but Elizabeth might not have been upset about Rupert. Rebecca recalled that earlier when she’d seen them by the gazebo, she’d thought Elizabeth had been sharing some bad news with him.

“Well, that’s their business, not ours,” Rebecca said. “And she wasn’t so upset that she couldn’t spare me another of her nasty looks on the way out the door. As for your boredom, I was thinking of going into the city tomorrow to buy some books—it gets quite boring in the duchess’s chambers, too, you know. We can get some for you, too, or maybe some knitting materials, or whatever you’d prefer to pass the time with.”

Flora had stopped complaining after that as she was looking forward to the shopping trip. Rebecca was, too. The only excitement in the palace so far had been one costume ball that she hadn’t even been prepared for, and the antics of Nigel and Sarah. Of course, she’d only been here a few days. But for the “grandest come-out of them all,” she couldn’t help but notice the definite dearth of young men to meet. Just Rupert. He was more than enough in her opinion, but still…

She wondered if her mother realized that most of the men who would be invited to the palace entertainments would be middle-aged officials and even older dignitaries. The prime bachelors of the realm probably didn’t even come to London during the off-season. Would she have to wait until the winter Season to meet them? Would they even be invited to the palace?

Rebecca left the duchess’s dinner early, dissatisfied with her thoughts and her mood. These up-and-down swings of emotion
weren’t the least bit normal for her. She hadn’t experienced them until she’d met Rupert—and it was confirmed without a doubt what a rake he was. He generated too much excitement. If she hadn’t discovered how exciting life could be, she was sure she wouldn’t be so unhappy with her lot when he wasn’t around.

Rebecca didn’t escape the dinner unnoticed. Well, she might have, but she couldn’t very well ignore Constance, who was standing in the hallway crying. Two upset maids of honor in the same day? Rupert wasn’t spreading himself around
this
much, was he? But that was an unfair thought. She was just still highly annoyed with him for trying to add her to his tally and so blatantly, with his ridiculous offer of help.

Evelyn had confided to Rebecca that Constance had waited three years for her fiancé to return to the country, only to have him end their engagement when he finally came home. If Constance appeared bitter occasionally, it was because of that. It was also responsible for her being quite the pessimist now.

“Constance?” Rebecca began.

She saw that she had startled the older girl, who quickly wiped her cheeks with the back of her sleeve. “It’s nothing.”

“Then would you like to talk about—nothing?”

Constance didn’t see any humor in the question. “No—yes. Sarah has asked me to go into the city again in the morning. And I haven’t heard back from my mother yet about whether I should be doing this sort of thing. I was so afraid the first time. I’ve never been anywhere by myself before, you know.”

“Take a footman with you this time.”

“I thought of that and mentioned to Sarah that I would do so, but she said no. She doesn’t want anyone to see me delivering the note to Lord Alberton on Wigmore Street.”

Rebecca managed not to laugh at how Constance had just
told her what Sarah had wanted to keep secret. In her mind, she could hear Sarah complaining, “I should have done it myself!”

“Isn’t that just a few blocks north of New Bond?” Rebecca asked, recalling her mother had a friend who lived there.

“I have no idea.”

“I’m pretty sure it is. And as it happens, I am going into the city tomorrow myself to Bond Street to shop. Would you like to join me?”

“We could stop by Wigmore Street?”

“Certainly. And don’t hesitate to ask me to accompany you to the city, should the need arise again. I really won’t mind getting out of the palace now and then, and my maid will go with us.”

Good God, Rebecca thought, had she just
that
easily decided to become Nigel Jennings’s spy?