The Passionate Love of a Rake (13 page)

“Yet you came back?”

“I would have gotten to that,” he answered, a deep laugh resonating in his chest, but it sounded hollow. “Am I boring you?”

“Don’t be silly, Robert, you were being serious.”

“I am never serious, Jane. My friends shall tell you. Ask Sparks. I came back because, in the end, I was bored of it there, too. I fancied something different. Have you never heard how shallow I am?”

Her gloved fingers touched his arm. He did not stop walking. She dropped her hand and kept his pace as the horses trailed behind them. “I do not think you shallow. Complicated, yes. I have heard your reputation. Who has not? You’ve made a point of compounding it since you came back to London. Yet … ” She stopped, even though he walked on. “I don’t think I believe it.”

“You don’t believe me?” He stopped, too, looked back, and shrugged. “Pray, tell me, what on earth is there to not believe?” He was mocking her, she realised, but he was mocking himself, too. There was a bitter look in his eyes.

“You are different, Robert, but I don’t think you are what you portray yourself to be.” He just stared at her, revealing nothing. She felt as though he deliberately sought to confuse her, to confuse everyone. He wanted to shut people out and shield the truth. But what was the truth? “Is it because you were hurt by your father?”

His eyes suddenly focused sharply on hers, but then he shook his head and turned away.

She followed, but his strides were quicker and longer; she could not keep up. One hand lifting the hem of her habit, the other still clinging to her mare’s reins, she yelled after him, “Robert!”

“That is the end of that subject,” he barked, neither turning nor slowing. “I do not wish to speak of it.”

“Robert, wait!”

“Wait!” she called again as he continued striding ahead of her. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She stopped, giving up her useless pursuit. “If you do not stop, I shall just go back.”

That caught his attention. He halted and turned, waiting for her to catch up, his eyes following her, his jaw clenched.

“So, what of you?” he said as she approached. “Have you made merry with Sutton’s fortune? I assume, with a husband half in the grave when you were wed, you have had ample opportunity for sport.”

“There is no need to be mean just because I touched a raw nerve,” she answered, then pursed her lips.

He gave her his charmer’s smile. “I did not intend to be mean.” He laughed, acting as though he had not been annoyed a moment ago. She knew he had been.

“Then explain to me in what context you asked your question.”

“In the context, my dear, that while I have been earning a rakehell’s reputation, you have been tucked quietly away in your country house, silent as a mouse. Yet, you must have lived quite well. Sutton was hardly poor. You have had money to spend and entertainments to host as a duchess.”

Jane was still unsure of his intent. Was he trying to hurt her in return? She chose to respond anyway, not wishing to close down another topic, although she was as uncomfortable with this subject as he’d appeared to be with the last. “Hector liked to live quietly. He was not a man for grandeur. Hence, I did not indulge in overspending, or fancy, or even socialising.”

“
Hector
.” Robert’s tone was one of distaste as he held her gaze, his dark eyes visibly trying to look into her thoughts, and then, again, he simply turned away and walked on, but at least this time he did not rush. His horse whinnied. “And did you and
Hector
get along well?”

“Well enough,” she answered cagily, still unable to assess if he was mocking her or not. Well enough, if you considered being used, ignored, or disparaged
getting along
.

“He did buy you things, then, treated you lavishly, I suppose. I mean, that was what you wished for, was it not? That was why you married him, for the pomp and finery.”

Her gaze rested on his broad shoulders as he walked a pace ahead. The air between them seemed charged with something she really did not understand. It was more than conversation. She’d cared for none of the pomp and finery and it certainly had not been worth its price, and the greatest cost had been losing Robert.

When she did not answer, he pressed again, changing tack. “I mean to say, you benefited well from it.”

Oh, let him think what he wished. She really did not care any more, Hector was gone. She had a chance for freedom, and she was damn well going to chase it. “My parents did, I’m sure,” she answered cryptically.

They walked on in silence, Robert looking at the shore of the Serpentine as they drew closer, while she studied him, a chasm standing between them.

When they reached the gravel path surrounding the lake, letting go of his horse’s reins, he bent down and picked up a single flat pebble, then he spun the stone and skimmed it across the lake. Her eyes followed it as it skipped on the water nine times before plopping beneath the surface, each bounce spreading a ring of ripples out across the surface. It brought back their childhood so vividly, the three of them together at the lake on his parents’ land. Whenever she’d succeeded in skimming stones, the brothers were never looking, and they’d refused to believe her.

He turned back and viewed her with a sceptical expression, but smiled. “Well, as it seems we cannot find a safe subject for conversation, perhaps we ought to return to my original idea and be lovers. We would have no reason to converse then. We could just kiss. We seem to manage that well enough.”

“Robert,” she admonished, glancing left and right to check no one was close enough to hear.

Robert looked at his groom who’d hung back and beckoned him forward, then asked the man to hold their horses. Afterwards, he took Jane’s hand, wrapped it about his forearm, and began walking along the gravel path, his fingers covering hers as he bent to her ear. “We used to be able to talk well enough. If I remember correctly, you had a habit of never shutting up, well, not unless I found another use for your lips.”

“Robert, don’t.” Her voice complained, yet her body responded, and her fingers clung to his arm. She liked him like this, teasing as the old Robert would. It was as though the sunny youth she remembered occasionally reached through his dark clouds.

“Do you remember that night?” he asked in a low, husky tone.

Oh yes, she remembered
that night
. He’d taken her out on the lake in a punt. His parents had held a garden party, and her parents had been asked to stay. She and Robert had planned a late night rendezvous on the lake. They’d met at midnight. Then, as quietly as possible, they’d freed one of the shallow, long boats, and Robert had pushed them out into the middle of the lake to a place where they could not be seen. They’d lain together in the hull on a bed of cushions, the clear night sky above them, so many sparkling stars piercing the darkness their only audience.

They’d kissed for a long while, entirely wrapped up in each other, and yet, he’d never pushed her for more. Then they’d talked of the future, of the life they would have, of how their children may look; their future marriage a mutual unspoken agreement. It all sounded foolish now. She’d been so blind then.

But that night had been in her dreams ever since, and in her dreams, he’d undressed her and loved her. They were only dreams. Yet for years, she’d regretted letting that opportunity go.

The next day, Robert had returned to Oxford, and her parents had begun to arrange her match with Sutton. When Robert had come home at Christmas, he’d arrived with a ring in his open palm, and he’d said “
I want you to marry me now. Let’s not wait. May I speak to your father?
” But her father had already signed the agreement with Sutton. He would simply have told Robert to go away.

Lost in thought, she’d not realised he’d continued speaking, until he stopped, turned her to him, and gripped her chin. “Jane? I’m sorry. I should not have spoken of Sutton. I did not mean to upset you.”

Her eyes met his, and she was mesmerised by the sincerity she saw there. They caught the daylight and turned to honey, his long, dark lashes framing them, his dark eyebrows outlining them. She felt out of her depth and overwhelmed by need for him.

She stepped back, out of reach. “I was not thinking of Hector. I was thinking of you,” she whispered, astonished the words had slipped from her lips. She blushed and turned away, lifting her hem from the ground, and started back towards the horses. “We should go. If I am too long, Violet will worry.” When she glanced back, hearing him follow, she caught his puzzled expression, but he did not speak.

When she reached the mare, Robert’s groom bent and locked his fingers together to make a step, so she was already in the saddle by the time Robert returned. He swung up on to his, and they rode back across the park in a gentler canter, silent.

~

“Where will you be tonight?” Robert asked as he gripped Jane’s fingers in parting before Violet’s door.

“You do not wish to come in for tea?”

“I think I can go without your friend’s satiric observations for one afternoon.” Their gazes locked, and he felt as though she wished to say something, but did not dare. The woman captivated him. He studied the light which caught the vivid green of her eyes and memorised the image for future recall. He’d been doing it all afternoon, preserving moments. The way she rode. The way she walked. The feel of her fingers on his arm. Her face in various silhouettes. The details of each expression that he saw.

Why?

He could not say. Except he was aware of a deep fear she would move on and he would lose her a second time. This time, he wished to make sure he could remember every detail of her when she’d gone.

He said nothing else. He’d upset her thrice today and that would hardly bring her about. In the future, he’d have to find some safe topic they could both converse on without prodding painful memories.

She sighed, the breath slipping through her parted lips. “Violet proposed Vauxhall.”

“Is Sparks escorting you?”

“As far as I am aware.”

“Then would you permit me to accompany him? I’m certain he would agree.” Damn it, he sounded as desperate as he’d been at nineteen. But then, he probably was. Still, it earned him a very pretty smile. He realised then how little he’d seen her smile in recent days, when as a young woman she’d smiled constantly. If she would let him get close enough, he vowed he would make her smile all the time again. Just for him.

“You would dare to suffer Violet’s reproach then?”

He let her fingers go and set his hand over his heart. “For you, anything.”

She blushed, smiling even more. “I’ll tell Violet.”

“And I shall find Sparks and tell him he has company.”

“I am sure I vex them in any case, tagging along when they would rather be alone.” Her smile slipped. He’d sensed a deep sadness in her ever since that first night. Now he was starting to believe it
was
grief. Perhaps she’d really cared for Sutton, and if she had, maybe his adolescent impression of her, before she’d thrown him off, had not been awry – and yet, she had taken the route of a fortune-hunter.

“Your company could never vex anyone, Jane.”
It is the lack of it that sets a man into the mire of despair
. He bowed valiantly. “Until tonight then, fair maiden.”

That had the smile back on her lips.

“Until tonight.”

“Your Grace, my Lady sent word to say their Lordships are waiting in the hall.” Violet’s maid bobbed a curtsy, her fingers resting on the handle of the open door.

“I will be down in a moment.” Jane looked into the long cheval mirror again, and her hands skimmed across her gown, smoothing out creases which did not exist.

She felt nervous, even though when she had returned from seeing Robert she’d felt elated. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling all afternoon. Violet had said dryly, “He wasn’t a bore then,” when she’d seen Jane’s smile.

He had been anything but. When Robert played charmer he had Jane completely in his palm. It was dangerous befriending a notorious seducer.

Violet had even said she might grow to like Robert, if he could make Jane smile as he had.

Now Jane felt uncertain again, though. Afraid to go forward, and yet not wishing to go back.

“You look exquisite, Your Grace,” Meg, Jane’s own maid, commented.

Jane’s jet-black curls were secured behind a thin silver tiara decorated with pearls, and she wore a matching three-stringed necklace which drew the eye to the flesh above her low neckline. The dress was an emerald green silk and the high waist tucked beneath her breasts. She looked well. She knew she did, and yet, she’d never worn anything which drew attention so vividly before. Her courage was faltering.

Still, there was nothing to do but go. She’d made her choice. It was too late to change it now. Filling her lungs with a deep, slow breath, she told herself she was going to have fun. She was with friends. What on earth was there to fear, for heaven’s sake?

Jane turned so Meg could set the black shawl she held across Jane’s shoulders. It fell and looped across her elbows, hanging beneath her bottom at her back, framing the dress rather than spoiling its lines.

~

“Ah, and here she is,” Lady Rimes stated. Robert looked up and found the air trapped in his lungs.
God
, Jane was stunning. His gaze swept across every curve and contour. She was perfection.

“You have given up your mourning,” he said as she came down. She gave him a closed-lip smile and nodded.

Sparks bowed.

Robert remembered his manners and offered her a slight bow too, but he could not take his eyes off her.

“Lord Barrington.” She held out her hand when she reached the hall. Her slender fingers were coated in emerald silk too.

He took them willingly, entirely enslaved, lifted them to his lips, kissed her knuckles, and savoured the intimacy, his thumb stroking across her palm.

Her smile broadened. It increased her beauty by degrees, a beauty he’d thought beyond improvement.

Her fingers tugged, reminding him to let go.

“We are ready then?” Sparks chimed. “Shall we head off? Vi?”

Still suffering from distraction over the woman whose fingers closed about his elbow, Robert was vaguely aware of Lady Rimes crossing to Sparks’s side.

Jane leaned closer. “Is everything well, Robert? You are not angry?” That shifted him from his reverie.

“Angry?” he answered quietly. “Why on earth would I be angry? You look superb.”

“I was afraid you would disapprove.”

They stepped out into the air of a warm summer evening, and above them, the orange rays of sunset gilded wispy clouds across the sky.

He looked at her again and saw bronze highlight her dark hair, but her smile had gone, and her lower lip was caught between her teeth. Her eyes were on their friends a few steps ahead. It was touching to know she cared what he thought.

“Whether you wear blacks or not is none of my concern, nor anyone else’s, Jane.”

With both hands wrapped about his elbow and emotion in her voice, she said, “Thank you, Robert. I admit, I am nervous about other people’s response. It is far too early to be appropriate, but I refuse to live a lie any more.” She smiled again, her bright gaze meeting his.

Emotion caught in his chest like a stitch. “
I refuse to live a lie anymore.
” What did that mean? Had he been wrong about her affection for the former Duke? An even bigger question stirred his heart at the thought her decision may be due to their renewed
friendship
.

Robert looked at Sparks handing Lady Rimes into his carriage. He’d brought an open-topped barouche as the night was fine.

Jane’s fingers left Robert’s arm and instead took Sparks’s hand. He helped her climb up, and Robert saw a dainty flash of ankle and her emerald slippers.

When Sparks nodded, Robert climbed in and sat beside Jane.

Likewise, Geoff occupied the seat by Lady Rimes. He immediately took her hand and hid the gesture beneath her skirt.

“Jane has been in high spirits all afternoon since she returned from your ride, Lord Barrington.” Lady Rimes opened the conversation with a sincerity that surprised Robert. He turned to view her expression. It seemed genuine. It set him off balance. Good Lord, what had he done to gain the approval of Violet Rimes? The woman had turned her back on him for years.

Jane’s fingers covered his hand, which rested palm down on his thigh.

Of course, she had been petitioning on his behalf.

He looked at her. “It is, indeed, a pleasure to see you smiling, Jane. So, what is it you are in fits over? Do not tell me the waterfall? It’s tawdry. You’ll be disappointed, I’m afraid.”

“Do not listen to him,” Geoff cut across his words. “Most of the women love it, if only on the first occasion, but once seen, both spectacle and enthusiasm become a little tainted, I admit.”

“Or the entertainments?” Robert quipped, slipping into the general banter he and Geoff often shared. “Now there is a spectacle, if you are into the bizarre.” He laughed. Geoff did, too.

“Well, I have never been there,” Jane inserted, her voice challenging, yet amused and introspective. “And I admit to a curious interest in the bizarre. It may be to my taste. And I cannot wait to see the waterfall and the fireworks. I’ve read of Vauxhall. I’ve longed to go, and I shall not have it ruined by your jaded opinions just because you’ve both been so many times you are bored of it.”

Geoff laughed. “Have no fear, Your Grace, I’ll ensure I appear enthused by every moment.”

Jane looked at Robert, and their gazes clashed in what felt like a deep connection. “I’ll have no need to pretend. With you as my companion, I shall be in wonder all over again.”

Her cheeks coloured, and she looked away, but not before he’d seen her smile lift.

Surely this was more than friendship, no matter what she’d said.

“And I say pah to the both of you.” Lady Rimes leaned forward and tapped Jane’s knee with her closed fan. “Ignore them, my dear. I love it always, just as much as on my first occasion. It is such a vibrant place, so full of life—”

“And dark pathways,” Robert interjected, throwing Lady Rimes a wicked smile.

“
Robert,
” Jane chastised.

Oh dear, he’d blown the image of a paragon Jane had tried painting.

But Lady Rimes was made of sterner stuff. She shot him an answering smile, lifted Geoff’s clasped hand from beneath her skirt, and set it on her thigh. “The walks, decorated in lantern light, are indeed very romantic, my Lord. Perhaps that is what you lack. To appreciate the beauty of Vauxhall, Lord Barrington, you need romance. You see, my dear friend Jane is a romantic at heart. Can you not tell? Hence, she is drawn to it, as am I.”

So, Jane had not succeeded in overriding her friend’s low opinion of him, just in making her play nice and offer only polite insults and mute warnings instead of open hostility.

Very well, he’d bite. “Of course, Lady Rimes, you would only be in a position to comment upon the level of my quixotic aspirations if you knew me at all, which, of course, you do not. In that case, you may withhold your judgement until you do.” He met the blue-eyed blonde’s gaze. For a moment, she stared at him, and he knew she was trying to establish what he was thinking. She gave up and looked away.

No doubt she wished to know his intentions towards Jane. Well, perhaps she should be more concerned about whether her friend would hurt him. After all, he was still walking about with his bloody heart on his sleeve, like an utter idiot, while the woman for whom he’d spent years pining just wished to be his
friend
.

Jane’s fingers still covered his, and he turned his hand and held them possessively.

“So, what is on our list of things to see and do then, Jane? As it is your first time, you must have the prerogative and direct us all,” Violet continued, brushing aside his hostility.

Jane looked at him, her eyes wide.

It reminded him of how she’d looked at him years ago. He’d thought her in thrall of him then. She’d looked at him as though he was master of the world and had the power to order everything as he wished.

“I would like to walk about the paths both before the sun sets and after, and I want to see the tightrope walker,” she hesitated, longing shining in her eyes. “And dance. Most of all, I wish to dance.”

He was in awe of her, and a spasm wrenched his heart. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and countered, “You can dance any evening.”

“I know, but it has been so long.” Her eyes looked suddenly uncertain, as though she feared he’d deny her. Of course, he would not. Whatever she wished, he’d do. She’d cast off her blacks, but she had a new shadow — him.

“Then you’ll dance,” he whispered, squeezing her fingers gently. When her gaze left his, he turned to find Lady Rimes and Geoff watching him with speculation. He shrugged in a defiant gesture and looked past them at the street. “It is a beautiful night for it anyway.” His voice refused their conjecture, deliberately impersonal.

“It is indeed.” Lady Rimes took up the theme.

“A night for revelry.” Geoff sent a smile to Jane.

Jane sighed. “Yes, I am so tired of being wrapped in propriety. I am quite of a mind to break some rules.”

Glancing at her, Robert saw her eyes sparkle. His blood heated. If she was in a mood for naughtiness, he knew just how to feed her hunger. Violet had said Jane was a romantic at heart. Well, a walk along the softly lit avenues would get the woman in the mood for him to steal a kiss or two. “And I shall be exceedingly happy to break them with you.” He sent her the smile which had brought numerous women across the world to his bed.

“You have no need to be obtuse, Barrington,” Lady Rimes threw at him, chastening his attempt to seduce her friend.

“I am not being in the least obtuse, my Lady, merely acting supplicant at Jane’s altar.” The back of Jane’s hand stroked his thigh. He knew she did it to ask him not to argue, but it did nothing to cool his ardour.

“You are too smooth by half, my Lord,” Violet swept back.

“Now, now, you two, play nicely,” Geoff challenged good-humouredly.

Robert laughed then quipped, “I will if she will.”

“On my part, Lord Barrington, I am still
withholding judgement
.” The woman cast him a mocking smile.

“If we are to attempt neutral ground, Lady Rimes, perhaps you should call me Robert.”

In answer she leaned forward, holding out her hand. “Very well, let us shake hands,
Robert
.”

“Lady Rimes.” He set his voice to charm, took her offered fingers, leaned forward, and kissed them.

“I suppose I must let you call me Violet,” she said as he let them go.

“Violet,” he said.

Jane slid closer, implying she marked her territory no matter her claims to only want friendship, and her thigh pressed against the length of his as she gripped his arm. “Robert, tell me what was your favourite thing, when you first went?”

~

Glancing up at the canopy of green leaves, Jane’s gaze absorbed the perfect contrast of the orange sky above them. Vauxhall was as beautiful as she’d imagined, a Garden of Eden. She gripped Robert’s elbow and looked along the broad central avenue. Violet and Geoff were walking together ahead, and at the end of the promenade, she saw the terracing from which guests could view the entertainments. They passed another pathway stretching away from the main thoroughfare, and Jane saw a mock-ruined Roman temple in the distance. She tugged on Robert’s arm.

“May we walk that way? It is still an hour before we are due for supper. Violet! Geoff!” The couple, now a few paces ahead of them, stopped and looked back.

“Jane has a desire to explore some more!” Robert explained.

“Would you mind?” Jane added as she and Robert walked on and narrowed the distance between them.

Violet smiled. “Of course, we do not, Jane, but I have seen it all before. You and Robert go. We will secure the supper box.”

“If you truly do not mind?”

Violet tapped Jane’s arm with her closed fan. “Do not be silly. Why should we mind?”

Jane smiled in gratitude, and they agreed to meet in half an hour.

“Do we not sound like the perfect set?” Robert mocked as Violet and Geoff walked on.

Jane gave him a challenging look. “You can be a prig sometimes, my Lord.”

“And you should not worry about what she thinks.” Robert turned towards the side path.

She gripped his arm, looking forward. “She is my friend, and she’s taken me in as her guest. I think it only polite I do nothing to offend her. I am very aware she is unable to live life as she normally would with me in tow.”

“No, but if Violet invited you to stay, she can hardly complain.”

Jane looked up at him. “She did not ask me, Robert. Well, in an open invitation in Bath, perhaps. But I am afraid to admit, I did not even write. I just descended upon her. Do you think that is awful of me?”

His brown gaze bored into hers, and she smiled, wondering if she was a gullible fool to feel so happy in his company. “It seems, Jane, I cannot think you awful, no matter what you do. Come along. Let’s investigate this ruin.” He smiled, too, and a melting, quaking sensation settled in her stomach.

Her heart raced.

“It’s beautiful, do you not think so?” she commented as they reached the high columns and half-built walls. She let go of his arm, peeled off her gloves, and gripped them in one hand while the other lifted to trail her bare fingers over the rigid granite columns. It felt cool and smooth.