Seducing the Rake (Mad, Bad and Dangerous Heroes) (38 page)

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Authors: Christina Skye

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BOOK: Seducing the Rake (Mad, Bad and Dangerous Heroes)
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“And that is your only answer?”

Chessy looked up then, catching the full azure fire of his gaze. The force of it made her breath catch. “I-I am sorry to decline your offer,” she said stiffly. “But I haven’t the slightest shred of interest in what the gossips of the
ton
have to say about me.”

Morland moved then, with speed and utter fury. He pulled her against his chest, his jaw clenched with anger. “But
I
care. I won’t have your name dragged through the mud, Chessy. And I won’t have mine dragged down with it. This time there’s not only you to consider, but the duchess. She is in a way of being a sponsor to you, after presenting you at her ball. Haven’t you any concern for
her
? The scandal would be devastating to her.”

Chessy shivered. She hadn’t realized.

Her eyes closed. When they opened, they were dark with regret. “Of course I care. But she’ll weather the storm. She told me once that the
ton
lives in dread of her setdowns. Just—just tell her to disown me. Tell them I was a sneaking little adventuress who thought to use her to gain entrance to Society.” She gave a bitter little laugh. “They’ll believe it soon enough. People like nothing more than to believe the worst about each other.”

Morland cursed fluently. “There are others to consider. Elspeth and Jeremy, for a start. They’re bound to hear the gossip.”

Chessy paled. She remembered Jeremy’s all-too-sober face and worshipping eyes. She did not want to cause them any further pain. Something told her they had known too much already.

“And what if you’re carrying my child?” His voice was dark, harsh.

Chessy swayed in his arms.

“You didn’t think of that, did you? You don’t think of anything but yourself!”

She could only stare, white-faced.

A child? A child with his sapphire eyes? With bronze hair that curled in rich, unruly tendrils just as his did?

She bit back a sob, shoving against his hands. “No—it can’t—”

Morland’s jaw settled to a hard line. “I won’t have a child of mine cast adrift upon the world, Chessy. I saw enough of that in
Portugal.
Believe me, I saw things that would—” He bit back his words and stiffened. “My child
—our
child—will have roots, security, and all the love that I can give. And he’ll have a mother and a father who live together under one roof, by heaven!”

Chessy could only blink at the suppressed fury in his voice. What if it were true
?
What if…

White-faced, she wrenched at his grip and managed to break free. Unconsciously, her hands fell, splayed over her stomach. No, it was impossible! Surely such a thing could not happen after only one night!

Morland gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t count on it,” he said flatly, reading her thoughts all too well. “More cunning minds than yours have been disappointed in such hopes. All it takes is once, Chessy. And I hope I needn’t remind you that I gave you myself and my seed far more than once last night. Deep. So damned deep. And you took me, held me, everything that I had to give. Sweet lord, time and again.”

Chessy closed her eyes, helpless in a flood of memories. Adrift in the recall of his hands upon her. The sound of her own voice, ragged and breathless in passion.

His words were torment, hammering through her head.

Gave you myself and my seed.

She clenched her slender hands, fighting the sweet heat of the memories.

Time and again.

Deep. So damned deep.

But he deserved much more than a bloodless contract. And
she
would never settle for anything less than love in marriage. Her father had tried that, and what had he to show for it but a lifetime of sorrow?

No, she must not even consider it. Somehow Chessy managed to raise her chin. Her face was tense, as brittle as purest porcelain bisque. “Then all the blame must fall to me. And the responsibility as well. That is the usual way of society, is it not? The woman is to bear the blame in such matters.”

“It’s not
my
way, damn it!”

She shivered. Had he said the same words to the mother of those two charming and utterly defenseless children?

“Listen to me, Chessy—”

But she didn’t listen. She moved to the bell pull and tugged sharply. A suspiciously short time later, Swithin poked his head through the door.

“Yes, miss?”

“Lord Morland is just leaving.” Her eyes were cold and clear as amethyst shards.

Morland went utterly still. “Don’t do this, Chessy.”

“See him out, if you please, Swithin.”

“You make a grave mistake.” Morland stood rigid. The sun glittered off his hair, wreathing it in golden light.

It was a strange color, Chessy thought dimly. It reminded her of finest Chinese imperial satin. She stared at him, memorizing the flare of his eyes, the glint of his hair. The hard set of his angular jaw.

Memories.

They would be all she had left.

Unless he was right…

Morland jerked on his kid gloves, then turned and reached to the chipped side table behind him. Abruptly he thrust a bunch of flowers into Chessy’s nerveless fingers.

“For you. With my compliments. In my—absorption—I forgot them. Enjoy them well. If you persist in this madness, you will have no place left to wear them, for no one will ever receive you. Even the duchess will be helpless to assist you.”

Chessy did not move when the door slammed shut behind him. Slowly she lifted the flowers to her face, letting their petals soothe the hot tears that gleamed there.

Gardenias. Rich and soft and beautiful. They must have cost him a fortune.

The fool. The wretched, bloody fool. Once again he had shattered her defenses.

Once again he had broken her heart into jagged little pieces.

Blindly Chessy hugged the soft, fragrant buds. Tears glittered on her cheeks as she raised her head and stared out at the weathered fence and the untidy back garden, seeing none of it. All she heard was the sound of Morland’s boots ringing through the front hall and the crash of the door as it slammed shut behind him.

All she saw were the harsh lines of his face as he took his farewell.

I gave you myself and my seed.

Her fingers tightened on the creamy petals.
All it takes is once.

And Chessy found herself praying that it would be exactly so.

 

 

CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
 

 

The door knocker began to pound barely five minutes after Morland’s angry departure.

One look at Swithin’s face told Chessy that the situation had only grown worse. “It’s the Duchess of Cranford this time. She’s sent a groom to say she has to see you.”

Chessy caught a ragged breath. “I-I can’t, Swithin.”

“Don’t look like the man’ll be leaving fast neither.”

At that moment the knocker began to bang anew. Muttering angrily, Swithin turned and stamped out into the hall. “If it’s the earl again, I’ll be standing aside, miss. Not so young as I used ter be, you know. And the fellow’s liable to plant me a facer.”

His voice trailed off as he trudged down the stairs.

Chessy waited, frozen. Morland’s exquisite gardenias were clutched in her fingers. Swithin opened the door.

A male voice rose, clipped and imperious. “I would be pleased if Miss Cameron could find the time to receive me. It is a matter of some importance.”

Chessy frowned. Abruptly she saw the face that went with that voice.

Surely not the Duke of Wellington? Not here?

Swiftly she straightened her dress and smoothed down her hair. But why—

Then her cheeks flushed with color as she recalled Lord Morland’s warnings. Sweet heaven, the duke had seen—he knew all!

She barely had time to turn when she heard Swithin approaching. She couldn’t possibly turn the duke away. It would be beyond anything rude. She gave Swithin a tense nod, then moved into the salon and took a seat by the window.

The duke was decisive, in this as in all he did. He studied her face and came directly to the point.

“He has come to you?”

Chessy did not pretend to misunderstand. “He has.”

“And you turned him down?”

“I did.”

“Heavens, but you are a very determined sort of female, Miss Cameron. Just yesterday I was saying to Mrs. Arbuthnot—but that’s neither here nor there. You make a great mistake to refuse his offer. The two of you will deal well together, I am convinced of it. And frankly—under the circumstances—” He gave a little cough. “Well, I cannot see that you have very much choice.”

Chessy’s fingers settled tensely upon her lap. “I am afraid that there you are wrong. Your Grace. Quite wrong. I shall be gone very soon. And there are reasons—things that prevent me—”

He snorted. “All very good talk, but it won’t do, you know. I saw you. My groom saw you. That means at least a dozen other people also saw you descending from Lord Morland’s at a markedly indelicate hour of the morning. It just isn’t done, you know! The word will be all over London by noon.”

Chessy’s face paled as the duke began to pace the sunlit room. “Don’t know what’s come over that damn fool Morland. Ever since the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo—well, he’s been simmering on the edge of an explosion. The best soldier I ever had, but always headstrong. And now
this.”

“It was not his fault, I assure you.”

“Humphh. The man’s a bully and a cad.”

“Not at all. He was—very nice.”

“Nice?
He is thoughtless and brash, entirely encroaching—”

Chessy’s eyes took on a strange glitter. “On the contrary. His manners to me were and always have been nothing less than impeccable.”

Wellington turned his head to conceal the tiny smile playing about his lips. “In that case I fail to see the problem, Miss Cameron. Marry the man! Marry him and make him happy! Then I may finally get some work out of him.”

Chessy’s hands twisted in desperation. “I-I cannot.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed. “Ah. Has it something to do with that bloody book, perhaps? I told him the infernal thing would be more trouble than it was worth.”

Chessy stiffened. “Book?” she repeated softly.

“I suppose I might as well tell you, since you are familiar with the ways of the East and may even be of help to us. You see, Morland has promised to find a book as a gift for the Chinese emperor. A very special book.” He coughed gruffly. “Some sort of—erotic manual.”

Chessy clutched at the wooden arm of the chair.
“The Yellow Emperor’s Guide to Secret Arts
?”

“That’s the one. You’ve seen it?” Wellington’s dark brow rose in surprise.

Chessy gave a mirthless laugh. “So I have. But not recently. And as it happens I’m looking for the same book. My father has been kidnapped, and it is the price of his ransom, you see.”

As she spoke, her mind spun in tight little circles.
Tony knew about the book but he had not told her. Had he had plans of his own for the priceless object? Had he planned to trick her to find the book for him?

No. He was not a man of such deception.

Wellington’s dark brows flew together. “James Cameron is being held captive? When did this come about?”

Taking a deep breath, Chessy told him the whole story. Her voice was low and clear and steady. Only her white, locked fingers betrayed her inner turmoil.

When she had finished, Wellington gave a low curse. “Damn, but this does complicate matters. Won’t do to have your father die for this infernal book Morland’s hell-bent on finding. But it’s the devil of a coil, Miss Cameron. I won’t deny you that.”

He turned abruptly. His startling blue eyes scoured her face. “You will not have him? Not under
any
circumstances?”

Chessy shook her head.

“What if your father’s business could be swiftly resolved? Would that change your answer?”

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