Scoundrel (Lost Lords of Radcliffe Book 4) (18 page)

“If you say so.”

“I
do
say so.”

“When are we going?”

“I’m not sure. Soon.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Maybe. It will be as quickly as plans can be arranged.”

“Does Faith know?”

“I doubt it. Chase only just decided himself.”

“Hmm…”

Rowena studied him, wondering what he was thinking. As to herself, her thoughts were extremely clear. She wouldn’t return to the convent. The reason she hadn’t already left was because she’d had nowhere to go.

Ralston could be the port in her storm. He was so chivalrous and decent. If she threw herself on his mercy, he’d have to catch her. Wouldn’t he?

“Will we all travel together?”

“Yes. Chase and I saw first hand the trouble you women instigated when we weren’t there. We’re not about to let you traipse off on your own. I specifically told Chase I wouldn’t depart unless you were by my side.”

“My hero,” she gushed. “How will we go? I’m assuming by ship?”

“We’re not that far in the discussion, but I’m positive that’s it.”

“I mean, we wouldn’t cross over into Spain and ride horseback, would we?”

“No. I’m certain once Chase sets his mind to it, he’ll want to get home as fast as he can. And that’s sailing.”

“Even then, it will take several weeks.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“It will be so much fun, won’t it?”

“I can’t wait.”

They’d be in close quarters, and ships were crafty little vessels. They had all kinds of nooks and crannies where a person could hide in the shadows. Who could predict what might happen?

No matter what, when they docked in England she was determined to have her future secured. Why shouldn’t he marry her? Why couldn’t he?

“I’m so happy,” she said.

“So am I.”

“I’m relieved too. After our debacle, I was too afraid to try to depart again. I couldn’t figure out how we’d manage it. How about you? Are you excited about this?”

“I have mixed feelings. I loved being here with Chase. It’s been every man’s bachelor fantasy, but it had to end sooner or later.”

She expected him to kiss her, but he showed no indication that he was considering it and she supposed he was shy, but she wasn’t.

She snuggled herself to him, her front pressed to his.

“You naughty girl!” he scolded, but he was grinning.

“I’m glad you’re taking me to England. I’m glad you’re the one.”

“I couldn’t leave you behind.”

“You better mean it.”

She couldn’t abide the suspense. During their lone foray on the beach a few nights earlier, he’d been very amorous, but maybe he didn’t realize a fellow could misbehave in the middle of the day.

Since he didn’t appear as if he’d make a move, she rose on tiptoe and kissed him instead. The gesture galvanized him, and he leapt into action. Her breasts were crushed to his chest, her private parts to his loins. He was hard down below, and if she could have been certain he wouldn’t die of shock, she’d have reached into his trousers and delivered a bit of pleasure.

Yet she didn’t dare. She couldn’t give him any hint of how much she enjoyed the physical side of passion. A well-bred young lady shouldn’t like that sort of thing.

They continued for a minute or two, not nearly long enough for any truly interesting embraces to occur. Just her luck, a servant went by, and Ralston was such a gentleman that he stopped immediately.

They were smiling, chortling like mischievous schoolchildren.

“I beg your pardon,” he ridiculously said.

“For what?” she retorted.

“For kissing you where anyone can walk by and see.”

“If I remember correctly, you didn’t kiss me.
I
kissed you.”

“So you did.” His smile widened. “But I kissed you back!”

“You definitely did. Would you like to do it again?”

“Yes, but we should get you over to the girls. They’ll be thoroughly alarmed by now.”

She sighed. “Yes, they probably are.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to invite him to her room later, or to offer to stroll on the beach in the moonlight again. If they were leaving shortly, they wouldn’t have many more chances.

But the girls would likely sleep with her, would curl around her and hold on as if she were a raft in a river and the only thing to keep them from drowning. There’d be no opportunity for him to sneak in or for her to sneak out.

He linked their fingers as if they were adolescent sweethearts, but as they left the alcove and stepped onto the main section of the verandah, he dropped her hand. They ambled along innocently, side by side, as if no untoward lust had been displayed.

“Chase says I shouldn’t call you Rowena,” he informed her.

“It’s my name,” Rowena scoffed. “What would he have you call me instead?”

“He believes I should stick with
Sister
Rowena. He feels I’m being overly familiar.”

“I like that you are, and I’m encouraging you, so perhaps Mr. Hubbard should mind his own business.”

“That’s pretty much what I told him.” Feigning nonchalance, he asked, “What will happen to us when we get to England?”

She could have hugged him. It was the perfect opening to clarify her position.

“I don’t want to return to the convent.”

He nodded. “I was wondering if you were pondering a change of course.”

“I’d have to have somewhere to go, someone who’d let me stay with him. It would have to be someone who would always take care of me.”

“Are you hoping it could be me?”

“Why not?” she brazenly replied.

“Why not indeed?” he mused.

They’d arrived at the spot where the girls were impatiently waiting for her so the discussion had to end. He winked and sauntered off so she couldn’t demand he explain his statement.

Why not indeed?

What did he mean? It had to mean he was suffering the same heightened regard. It had to mean he was thinking what she was thinking, that they belonged together.

What else could he mean? She was desperate to find out.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Chase stepped onto the beach below the villa. It was late in the afternoon, the sun sinking in the west.

He was experiencing a peculiar swirl of emotions, conflicted about heading to England, not sure he wanted to, not sure he should. There was nothing for him in London, but then there was nothing for him in Africa either.

Where was a man supposed to go? How was he to establish himself?

He deemed the world a very unfair place. He was the son of a French count, and his father had purportedly loved his mother madly and passionately. But because they’d never wed, he was no one at all.

He had three half-siblings in France, two brothers and a sister, but he’d never met them. He didn’t know any details about them, not where they lived or how they carried on.

His father had lost most of his land holdings during The Terror. Had his half-brothers been able to retrieve any of it? He hoped so. He wasn’t a petty person and liked to think they were thriving. He liked to think some of his father’s grandiosity and high status had benefitted them.

That old position of pomp and opulence certainly hadn’t provided any advantage for Chase.

How could he be so smart and so educated, so crafty and knowledgeable of people and their ways, but have so few options? He wished he could start over and make his mark, but England was so stratified that a fellow couldn’t improve himself.

Perhaps, once he debarked in London, he should book passage to America. There were wild rumors about the country, that a man could put down roots and earn his fortune. Maybe that was the answer to his dilemma.

He sighed and studied his surroundings. He’d always known he’d eventually leave the villa, but he simply hadn’t expected the end to arrive so abruptly. He’d sworn to Ralston that they’d all depart together, but he was having such misgivings. It was lunacy to yearn to stay, but then he’d never considered himself to be exactly sane.

He peered down the sand, surprised to see Faith approaching. Her wimple was off so her pretty hair was dangling down her back, the wind blowing the lengthy strands out behind her.

She wasn’t wearing her habit either, but a flowing native dress that showed off her slender arms and shapely breasts. She’d hiked the skirt to her knees and tied the hem in a knot. She was wading in the waves, laughing as the water surged and retreated.

It seemed a scandalous moment, as if he’d caught her running about naked. Obviously this was a private episode he shouldn’t view. If he’d been any sort of gentleman, he’d have spun away and left her to her fun.

He’d been avoiding her, confused by their encounter in the bathing pool. He felt better around her and didn’t understand why she had such a soothing effect, but he didn’t like it or want it to occur.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, and he was disturbed by how much he enjoyed watching her. He paused a few yards away, dawdling, gawking, and the oddest affection was stirring, which he refused to acknowledge.

“Faith,” he finally said.

She stopped and turned. Their gazes locked, and the most potent charge of emotion leapt between them.

“Hello,” she said.

He might have been a clumsy lad with his first girl, but he shook off his temporary affliction and marched over to her. She stood her ground, and as he neared she actually reached out her hand. He clasped hold and linked their fingers.

“I’ve never been on a beach before,” she told him.

“I was wondering if you had.”

“I didn’t realize the tide pulled so hard. It almost topples me over when it sweeps across my feet.”

She was smiling, happy, appearing young and free and nothing like the fussy, grumpy nun who’d initially arrived. The villa did that to a person. It was a magical place that had you disregarding the outside world that was crammed full of rules and routines.

“You changed your clothes.” He was smiling too.

“Are you shocked?”

“No.”

“Well, I am. I’m utterly shocked.”

“I’m rubbing off on you. You’re adopting my bad habits.”

“You might be correct.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She wagged a finger at him. “No compliments.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re a deranged female who doesn’t like to be flattered.”

“You make me forget myself, you bounder, and you know it too.”

He dipped in and kissed her, but she quickly drew away.

“No kissing!” she admonished.

“Why not?”

“Because someone might see.”

“Let them.”

She stared up at the villa, at the marble verandah that protruded out from the cliff, but it was deserted.

“There’s no one watching,” he said. “We can misbehave.”

“I don’t think so.”

She tugged on his hand and strolled down the beach. It was an astoundingly intimate interlude, but he couldn’t figure out why. They were just
walking
.

“What’s come over you?” he asked. “Are you sure your name is Faith Newton?”

“Do I appear wanton and reckless?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Good. I want to feel like someone else today.”

“Someone other than Sister Faithful?”

“Yes, someone very different from her.”

“You’ve succeeded.”

“You’re dangerous to me, Chase Hubbard.”

“I’ve always been dangerous. It’s simply my nature.”

“You make me yearn and covet.”

“What have you been yearning for and coveting?”

She didn’t reply, but her expression was enigmatic and mysterious, as if she had secrets she’d share if he begged in the right way.

“A maid offered to wash my habit, and she brought me this dress to wear while the other was being cleaned. Typically I’d have cowered in my room in a robe, but for once I thought, why not? Why shouldn’t I put it on and enjoy myself? As you constantly remind me, who is there to see?”

“No one who matters.”

“Precisely, and it’s been so long since I had any pretty garments, and I’ve never, ever acted outrageously. You won’t faint because you’ve peeked at my bare feet, will you?”

“I’ll do my best to remain standing,” he dryly retorted.

He stopped and pulled her to him, and he kissed her again. While she didn’t exactly protest, she let him continue when she probably shouldn’t have.

They started off yet again and rounded an outcropping so they weren’t visible from the villa. She didn’t have to worry about Rowena or the girls spying on her.

A wave came in that was bigger than the rest, and it surprised them, slapping into their thighs and pushing him into her so she nearly fell. He reached out to steady her as she laughed and tossed her hair.

The sight of her—so relaxed and so merry—rattled him in ways he didn’t like. He glanced away, refusing to feel as if he was under some sort of spell, as if he’d been bewitched by her.

She went over to a boulder and snuggled her bottom on it. He was several feet away, over by the water, the surf lapping at his ankles.

“You seem sad,” she said.

“I seem…sad? How ridiculous that you’d assume so.”

“Why?”

“I’m never sad.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Then you’re very fortunate.”

“Are you sad occasionally?”

“I’m sad more than occasionally,” she blurted out, and she shook her head. “Oh, listen to me bewailing my plight. There’s nothing wrong with my life.”

“Except that you’re not cut out to be a nun.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“I do, and I know women better than any man.”

“Because you’re a libertine.”

“Yes, and I’m telling you, you shouldn’t go back to the convent.”

“I suppose I could leave, but I’d have to return to my father’s house, and Lambert would begin wooing me again.”

“You’ve been away for months,” Chase pointed out. “Maybe he wed while you were traveling.”

“I’d never be that lucky. Plus, with my father remarrying to such a young girl conditions are odd at home.”

“Your stepmother is what, nineteen?”

“Yes.”

“And your father is fifty? Sixty?”

“Sixty.”

He snorted. “Your family is more crazed than mine.”

“Who are your parents? You never have told me much about yourself.”