The Passionate Love of a Rake (6 page)

A sigh escaped her throat, but on her inward breath, it became a slight sob as pain welled in her chest, and she bit her lip.

Then, as they heard a bolt draw back with a sharp, metallic scrape, his fingers touched her shoulder, turning her to him, while his other hand tucked beneath her chin and lifted her face. Then his lips touched hers briefly.

“I am sorry I shouted at you,” he whispered when he pulled away.

He must think it was that which had upset her.

The door opened.

“Your Grace?” the young night footman questioned.

“Forgive me.” It was all she could get out as she stepped inside without a word to Robert. She could not even look at him.

Immediately, once she was in, she swept across the hall and up the stairs in as close to a run as she could discreetly manage. When she reached her bedchamber, she shut the door behind her, and, leaning against it, slid to the floor and wept.

The next morning, Jane walked into the day room where Violet took breakfast, knowing she did not look her best.

Meg, Jane’s maid, had tried to hide the ravages of a late, tearful night, but with little success.

Jane was tired, and her thoughts were a tangled muddle as images of Joshua and Robert tormented her.

Her body was still alive with the sensations Robert had taught her last night, and her heart ached for impossibilities.

She felt exhausted and fragile.

The wonderful aroma of freshly ground coffee and chocolate instantly restored her appetite, though, and a blue sky beyond the windows mocked the unsettling regrets in her thoughts.

Jane liked this bright room. The morning sun always reached in through the bank of windows facing the garden, and its cream and yellow decoration was a cheery choice, distinctly Violet. The mahogany table was laid for breakfast, covered in a starched, cream cloth and laden with coffee, tea, chocolate, hams, cheeses and sweet cinnamon rolls.

“Ah, my dear.” Violet smiled and beckoned Jane forward. “You must be starving.”

Jane smiled and took the seat that a footman withdrew, facing Violet.

“Coffee, please,” Jane ordered. She needed something to get her thoughts in order. The footman poured it.

“And now, Daniels, disappear. I am sure Jane will be happy to serve herself.” Violet waved him off with a flick of her hand.

Jane’s fingers trembled as she reached for her cup and, yet again, she remembered the things Robert had done last night.

He’d dislodged her sanity. Her tingling senses just kept stirring memories in her head, of his kisses and his touch. The image of his predatory stare in the ballroom hung in her mind, too, and the conversation she’d overheard.

He knew how to capture a woman’s interest. He knew how to speak his intention without words. He knew how to make a woman feel special. No wonder he was infamous.

She thought of his room, of the props set out for Lady Baxter, not
her
. Yet, as she pictured it, she heard the apology he’d given as he’d left.

The door clicked shut behind the footman. Jane looked up and met Violet’s gaze.

“Well, well, Jane,” Violet whispered, her eyes dancing with silent laughter. “And there was I thinking you the shy and retiring type. How wrong I was!”

Jane opened her mouth to answer, but Violet lifted her hand.

“No need for explanations. I am not shocked in the least. But surprised, yes! Your husband is but weeks in the grave and you allow Barrington to take you home. I am sorry, Jane, but you are fooling no one now. You must take off those blacks.” Violet laughed.

Jane opened her mouth again, but Violet’s butter knife lifted and bobbed up and down, pointing in Jane’s direction.

“Do not try to deny it, my dear, you cannot. I saw you return in his carriage in the early hours, with Barrington in dishabille.”

“But I did not—”

“Oh Jane, there is no need to explain. I really do not care what you do. You know I am partial to the company of men. But you have outdone me by a mile. It was at least a year after my dear Frederick passed before I took another man.

“However I suppose the former Duke of Sutton can be no comparison to a buck like Barrington. Yet, you strike me as a woman with a tender heart, Jane, and Barrington is likely to break it. As I said last night, he is not known for his constancy. The man is fickle. He’s littered Europe with broken hearts.”

Jane interrupted then, her coffee cup clicking back down on its saucer. She could not let Violet think Robert was
any
man. “Violet, you misunderstood. He and I are old friends. Last night was not our first meeting, and—”

Violet’s knife bobbed again. “
Jane
, have you been keeping secrets? Friends with Barrington, indeed? Why did you not mention it?”

“Because I had no idea he was in London, and it is a lifetime since I last saw him.” To Violet’s knowing look, Jane added, “It is not what you think, Violet. My father’s estate and his bordered one another. We knew each other as children. We were catching up, that is all.”

Violet laughed. “And does catching up remove a gentleman’s cravat?”

Jane felt a blush rise in her cheeks.

“Well, it is of no concern to me if you were catching up or not, just guard your heart, Jane. Your friend or not, he is not reliable.”

That hardly mattered. Jane knew she had no heart to break. He’d shattered it years ago. Then why was there a deep ache lodged in her chest this morning?

“See.” Violet pointed her knife again, and her voice rose in pitch, but she smiled. “You are already affected. You cannot take your mind from him.
Beware
.”

Jane smiled too, and wondered where she would be without Violet. But she still denied the truth with a blatant lie. “I am not affected. He has simply reminded me of the past, that is all.”

Violet’s eyebrows lifted.

Jane blushed, but she did not let Violet speak. “We were very young, nothing happened, and please, do not say anything to anyone else, or to him. It would mortify me if it became common knowledge, especially with his reputation as it stands. I would rather keep our former friendship between ourselves.”

Violet’s colour suddenly heightened, too.

Jane assumed she had caused offence.

“I am not a gossip, Jane. You are my friend. But if you wish to keep it secret, then disappearing with him from an event the size of the Duchess of Weldon’s was not the way to do it.”

“I know, it was foolish.” Jane felt a blush again. “I was just surprised to see him, and when he suggested it, I did not think.”

“A symptom which is common for women in Barrington’s company, I believe.”

“You do not like him?” A memory of the scene in his bedchamber spun through Jane’s head. Had Violet?

“I only know him by reputation. But he is not for me, and I have not, Jane, if that is what you are asking.” Jane felt her skin turn crimson as Violet continued. “He is polite and indecently good-looking. But just keep your head over the man, Jane. I do not wish to see you hurt.”

The thought gave Jane pause. The man who’d apologised before he’d left had been
the Robert she remembered and had loved, and the one who’d kissed her palm …  But Violet implied he treated women callously and last night, it had seemed he could. The room had been dressed so carefully, and they’d shared such intimacies, yet he’d shared the same with numerous women. It appeared it was the act of sex he was attracted to, not the woman, if he could swap his attentions from Lady Baxter to her so easily.

She’d known he’d changed though. It was no surprise. “I did not have to come to London to hear his reputation. The gossip sheets have been full of tales about him for years, Violet. I know what he’s become. You do not need to warn me. But he was like a brother to me as a child.” She could not think him callous.

“A brother?” Violet challenged with another laugh.

“And later, a good friend,” Jane redefined at Violet’s dismissive hand gesture.

“A good friend who is a good kisser, no? You did not look at all like brother and sister from my bedroom window last night. You looked thoroughly kissed, and he looked—”

“I—” Jane again sought to deny it, but Violet stopped her, lifting her hand.

“Never mind, Jane. I am only teasing you. You do not need to justify yourself to me.” Then with a smile she asked, “Well, then, what shall we do today? Lord Sparks has invited us to the horse races, if you would like to go?”

Jane smiled and nodded. Most of their days had been spent visiting or shopping. Watching the races would be a novelty. It might even stimulate her mind to think of something other than Robert.

~

Jane wished she’d found an excuse to cry off and stay at Violet’s as she walked beside her friend and Lord Sparks. Lord Sparks was naming the horses as they passed them, while Jane’s eyes were drawn forward for the umpteenth time to the couple strolling some distance ahead. The Earl of Barrington’s broad, muscular back dominated her view, and his arm embraced Lady Baxter, his fingers gripping the woman’s waist.

It was torture, watching them. Jane felt a fool.

Robert had not once turned back as they progressed, but Jane would swear he knew she was there.

He leaned and whispered something to his companion.

Jane felt herself blush and looked at Lord Sparks, trying to focus on his explanation. She felt as if she was intruding on Violet and her lover, though. Violet’s hands were wrapped about Lord Sparks's forearm as they walked, and her attention was all for her beau.

Jane tipped her head back to see beyond the rim of her black bonnet, and looked up at the blue sky.

A single, wispy, white cloud hung above her. The rest of the sky was clear.

She really did not wish to watch Robert pawing the blonde woman in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes for a moment, begging for patience and sanity, or, at least, a little common sense. She could not allow Robert to unsettle her. She had enough things to worry about without adding to her woes.

So, last night, he had chosen her over Lady Baxter, and now, he was merely gathering up loose ends. No doubt he was angry because Jane had walked away. Well, she had not come to town for an affair. She’d come to escape Joshua, and certainly not to find Robert.

Her heart clenched. She’d thought she’d conquered this pain long ago. She stubbornly thrust it aside and opened her eyes.

She was a long way behind Violet and Lord Sparks. Instead of following, she turned towards the horses. If she must feel alone in a crowded place, she may as well be alone.

A black mare whinnied in Jane’s direction, pitching up her muzzle for attention. A young groom stood beside the horse. Jane walked over, answering the mare’s call, and touched its muzzle.

It was a beautiful animal. She kissed its velvet cheek, and the mare’s nostrils flared. “You’re a beauty, aren’t you?” she whispered.

The horse whickered, pushing its head gently against Jane. She gripped the loop of the bit at the edge of the horse’s mouth and looked into the animal’s large, dark eye. “Now, what did Lord Sparks say they called you?”

“Her name is Minstrel, Ma’am,” the young groom acknowledged, bowing briefly. Then he smiled. “I helped to train her.”

“And is she a good runner?” Jane’s hand fell on the animal’s flank.

“Oh aye, Ma’am, she’s a real fine, fast runner.”

“Then you would recommend I put my stake on her?”

“My Lord said she’ll win us a fortune, Ma’am.”

Jane smiled, but the boy’s gaze had passed across her shoulder.

“Billy, get Minstrel walking.”

Jane’s hands fell, and she turned to face Robert. He looked surprised at first, but then there was pleasure on his face. His hand lifted and removed his hat, and he bowed. Jane looked beyond him for Lady Baxter. She was nowhere near.

“Your Grace,” Robert said, straightening up again. “Are you interested in my horse?”

“
Your horse?
” Jane felt the rush of gaucheness, again.

She was no Lady Baxter. Jane was unpolished in comparison and drab in her blacks, like a sparrow to a peacock, and yet, last night, he had chosen to take
her
home.

“Yes.” He reached across her and stroked the mare. “Minstrel. We’ve high hopes for her. Have we not, Billy?”

“Oh aye, my Lord.” The young groom glowed, clearly thrilled by Robert’s attention. “Her Grace was going to put down a stake. I said Minstrel’s a safe bet.”

“As safe as ever a bet can be,” Robert expanded with a smile, but his brow furrowed then. “How did you get here?”

He had not known she was here then. She was unsure if it made observing his flirtation better or worse. If he had not been lavishing his attention on Lady Baxter to rile Jane, then his attentions had been genuinely bestowed.
Which was worse?

“Lord Sparks invited Lady Rimes. I came with them.” Her heart raced. “I should go back. They’ll be looking for me.”

“I’ll walk with you.” His words were a statement, not an offer. He held out his arm. She did not take it. She was too out of charity with him today.

“I can manage alone.”

“But you need not.” He blocked her path as she moved. “You do not have to take my arm if you don’t wish to, but allow me to escort you, Jane.”

His behaviour angered her. He acted as though nothing had occurred last night, and as though
nothing
had occurred today, as though Lady Baxter had not recently been acting brazen beside him. Jane brushed past him and strode away, but her pace was hindered by the dense, spongy grass.

“Jane!” He was at her side and speaking in a fast, sharp whisper as he bent towards her. “I am sorry for what happened last night. I realise it was wrong of me to assume … ” He stopped speaking as they passed two men, and she glanced up at him, only to feel the full force of his charm as he smiled. “I should not have expected it of you so soon.”

She was astonished. Did he think if he’d taken longer, she would have let him progress? Of course, it was nothing to do with her feelings and all to do with his mastery. “Women are not mares to be coaxed across the last fence, my Lord, which is what you seem to think. And may I ask; where is your companion, Lady Baxter?”

He looked dumbstruck for a moment, but only a moment. Almost immediately, he was back in control, and a bark of laughter escaped his throat. “So, that is it, is it, Jane? You’re jealous.”

She realised, from the sudden bright knowing look in his eyes, he was not just speaking of today. He understood her words too well. He was thinking of last night.

“Well, sorry, Jane. I apologise for having a life after you. What did you expect? That, while you made merry with Sutton’s wealth and status, I would twiddle my thumbs and wait for you, counting the days until the old man croaked? No, Jane. I moved on.”

She opened her mouth, but had nothing to say. She could not explain to him in a single sentence how she had felt forced to take Sutton. Or how she had stood and watched him, Robert, the man she loved, ride away, and felt her heart leave with him, nor how she had cried herself to sleep for years, longing for him. And anyway,
that
Robert was in the past. This one would not even wish to know.