To Catch a Rake (12 page)

His favorite rabbit eyed him with a fixed stare and nodded.

“Right,” he began. “Now, Codlington, I’m here today to clear up a point of confusion I created unbeknownst to me. My field guide, you understand, is nothing more than popular fiction. A book to amuse gentlemen like us, sophisticated, town gentlemen desirous of a good laugh or two.” He winked.

Mrs. Russell cleared her throat.

“As I was saying, the initials L. B. in the field guide do not refer to Miss Broadsham’s. I have recently had the pleasure of meeting Miss Broadsham for the first time and she, in no way, resembles a Happy Go…”

Mrs. Russell’s eyes widened to the size of the orrery’s Jupiter. “Mr. Drexel did not mean—”

“Excuse me,” he continued, “Miss Broadsham is a happy…
person
, but not at all happy in the way presented in the field guide.”
Damnation
. He had just made a perfect hash of that explanation.

In stunned silence, Mrs. Russell poured everyone another cup of tea.

“Right. The thing is, Codlington, Miss Broadsham is not in the field guide, so there should be no impediment for you to resume your addresses.”
He stated the facts; promise met.
Eager to exit this stage of masculine mortification, he shifted forward in his chair.

“Are you sure?” asked Codlington.

“I am the author.”

“I see.” The young man took a minute to leisurely sip his tea. “I apologize for taking your time away from the tunnel.” He frowned in the direction of Mrs. Russell. “You must understand. I’ve been…advised that my living will be cut off, unless I wed a wife my mother feels will be respectable beyond reproach.”

A situation George understood well. He possessed a sufficient living to keep himself in the manner of a gentleman after his parents’ death. However, he might need additional capital for his engineering proposals. Or just to remain solvent, if one of his projects failed to reach the expected profits or an invention was stolen.

Codlington addressed Mrs. Russell. “I must marry a wife suitable for a lawyer with aspirations for the highest office in court. Right now, I suffer from conflicting obligations, and I don’t know what to do. Please understand, Meta.”

“You mean you hope
Lily
understands,” she said. “James, you are aware that Lily has a…significant dowry? Greater than even she is aware of.”

George wondered about the exact amount. Perhaps he should make addresses to Miss Broadsham, if this James fellow withdrew his cards from the game.

Mrs. Russell spoke in the well-practiced, irritating tone of a wronged female. “How could you be so unfeeling as to endanger her reputation?”

George stifled an urge to flee the room.

Their host did not reply; he seemed to be considering the situation. He closed his eyes and tilted his head down. “A member of my club asked me if the initials were Lily’s—asked me directly, to my face.”

She ignored the man’s distress. “How can you break her heart?”

Feminine manipulations depending heavily upon guilt did not surprise him. Time to set the matter to rights and move on. “I believe you missed my point, Codlington. Miss Broadsham is
not
in my field guide, so there could never be any scandal attached to the young lady. Moreover, I will do everything within my power to make sure those initials are removed from any second edition. I promise.”

Codlington nodded. “I have been at court for only a short time, but from what I have observed, the facts seldom matter in regard to public gossip.” He glanced up and sighed. “I believe you, sir, but I still believe her initials in a second edition will start a scandal, regardless of the veracity. And it might be even worse if her initials are removed altogether. People are clever and will notice. Then all sorts of speculation will arise about why they were removed.” He shook his head. “Whatever actions we take, I’m sure they will be misrepresented in the newspapers too, because people enjoy that sort of thing. They thrive on the latest
on dits
. Consider my circumstances. I cannot take that risk.”

“Right.” Like a great number of men, he and Codlington were in the same boat. “You must retain a spotless reputation to gain support of the superiors in your profession, a situation I know all too well.” If Mrs. Russell’s mawkish pleadings to spare her sister’s heart failed to change his mind, perhaps a reverse tactic on this reluctant Romeo might work. It was worth a try. “If I were a lawyer with higher aspirations, I certainly would not wed a sweet, young wife like Miss Broadsham. I compliment you, Codlington. What did you have in mind? Some ol’ harridan, plush in the pocket, to organize your life to the minute, who would be a skilled conversationalist around lawyers.” He turned toward Mrs. Russell and gave her a quelling look. Her eyes widened, and since she was no slow top, he felt confident she would not muddle the situation.

“Well,” James said, “I would not go that far—”

George caught Codlington’s gaze and then nodded his head sideways in the direction of Mrs. Russell. “I’m sure Mrs. Russell will forgive us for speaking in the common language of men.”

Thankfully, she remained silent—a probable first.

George’s confidence in the eventual success of his scheme grew. “A gentleman with ambitions like yours needs a skilled wife, skilled in Polite Society, skilled at handling the politics of the Court of the Common Pleas. Am I right?”

“Well, it never hurts to—”

“Mrs. Russell, once again I must apologize for my vulgarity, but as you are a widow, I consider you a woman of superior understanding. The subject of a wife is an important one to gentlemen like Codlington and myself. I too have no need for a beautiful, sweet wife that would never nag a fellow. A gentleman can always satisfy his desires for that elsewhere.”

She choked on a sip of tea.

“I would never—” Their host straightened.

“We both need a plain wife that will further assist our advancement. A hostess with expertise at seducing any gentleman to open his purse or advance her husband’s career. Of course, it goes without saying that she must have a flawless reputation. Therefore, all intelligent, beautiful women with these skills cannot be trusted.” He turned to address James in a sham lowered voice. “Likely a rake or two in her past, I dare say. That means you must search London’s older—and beg pardon—uglier widows. Then there would be no doubt whatsoever of a scandalous past.”

Mrs. Russell hiccuped.

George didn’t even glance in her direction. “I too will marry for wealth. Love has nothing to do with a choice of wife, not in the least. If I were you, Codlington, I too would take the easy route and not stand up to my mother. Standing up to Mater is serious business for a son. What is the importance of a lifetime of love anyway? Success in one’s profession wins over romance every time.”

Codlington narrowed his eyes, but George could not determine if his hard stare was a fulminating one, expressing protest over his indelicate feelings, or a censorious one, expressing condemnation over his vulgarity.

Codlington strode over to the orrery and stared at a small moon.

George winked at Mrs. Russell. Her expression did not change, a sign she must be aware of his intentions to goad this reluctant Romeo into action. His plan might work. Codlington may indeed have the stuff to defy his mother. But to wager it all on romantic love? An impressive gesture, but thankfully, a wager he would never have to take.

Much to her credit, Mrs. Russell continued to remain silent.

He appreciated her reticence, but her expression of tight-lipped disapproval left him uneasy, like the sight of black clouds on the horizon.

James finally walked over and took the woman’s hand. “I apologize, Meta, but I have an appointment to keep in court, so I must be on my way. Mr. Drexel—I beg pardon—seems to lack a loving heart. Upon reflection, my decision to end my engagement to your amiable sister was a hasty one. I shall pay a call on her as soon as possible to resume my addresses, because I truly do love her. I’m confident that because of her sweet temperament, she will forgive me.”

Mrs. Russell hopped out of her chair. “Thank you, dear James. I know Lily will be delighted.” She grabbed both of his hands and gave him a brotherly kiss on the cheek. Then the two of them stood there beaming like idiots.

The young lawyer exhaled. “Do you know, I feel quite restored. I never realized how worried—couldn’t eat. I truly believed I’d never be happy again. Now we can move forward and finally announce the engagement as if nothing had interfered.” He turned to address George and frowned. “Obviously, Mr. Drexel here is ignorant of the benefits of a loving spouse.”

Mrs. Russell smirked. “I must agree with you on that point.”

“Humph.” They were right, of course, but he failed to see how it was his concern that this young Romeo decided to risk it all for the love of some schoolroom chit.

“Tell Lily,” James said, “that I apologize for my hasty decision to end our understanding. Tell her to expect me to call tomorrow. I cannot wait for this incident to be behind us, so we can contemplate our happy future instead.”

“Yes, yes.” She turned and approached him. “Thank you, Mr. Drexel. Let’s be on our way.”

After their farewells to Codlington, he offered to escort Mrs. Russell the few blocks to her house, and she took his arm. He whistled as they strolled. He could not remember being this happy in a long time. Upon entering the field of battle with her James, he withdrew the victor. The pressure on him eased, and he felt vindicated. He glanced down at Mrs. Russell and recognized his renewed desire to kiss her senseless or make love until she cried out his name.

She walked straight ahead and remained silent.

He swelled with pride at his great victory, made even sweeter because Mrs. Russell had witnessed it. From now on, whenever their paths crossed, she would remember he was the man who triumphed over this Codlington. With any luck, she’d remember to thank him every time they met. But then he realized that Lily would now accept her suitor, so his acquaintance with Mrs. Russell would likely end. After all, he had no real reason to see the woman again. A disappointing fact, since he’d be sorry to see the backside of his favorite rabbit.

She spoke first. “That went well.”

He burst out laughing. “I agree. The question is, for whom?”

Seven

Meta glared at his flippant remark and remained silent as they strolled to Broadsham House.

Meanwhile, Mr. Drexel whistled and almost skipped, his heels lightly tapping on the stone pathway. Looking for all the world like a man who just won every hand at whist.

What did he mean when he said it went well for whom?

It went well for everyone, surely? James summoned the courage to defy his mother’s wishes, admit his mistake, and marry the woman he loved. He would apologize to Lily, while her sister must overcome her resentment of being jilted. Together the couple would announce their engagement in the immediate future. Meta did not see any other possible outcome. All this field guide twaddle would be forgotten and life would return to normal. A life without the Drexels, she supposed, unsure of her feelings upon the matter.

A block away from Dover Street, they passed an entrance to a block of mews.

“Come,” Mr. Drexel said, glancing both ways. “Shortcut.”

She stopped and shook her head. “No, this leads to—”

He gently pulled her several feet into the mews, so they were hidden from any foot traffic on Hay Hill. “Mrs. Russell, you held your tongue. What an exceptional, brilliant female!” He lifted her off the ground and spun her around and around and around.

Finding herself in a dizzying whirl, she tried to focus on the dark blue wool on the top of his shoulder. For at least a minute, all she could see was a hazy mixture of brick wall and navy coat. “Put me down. Someone will see us. Have you gone mad?” Her heartbeat escalated and she clung to his broad shoulders.

Without any apparent effort, he flipped her sideways.

She found herself carried in his capable arms. Glancing at his face, she discovered a very self-satisfied smile. “What was that about?”

“Well?”

Still dizzy, she could only manage. “Well?”

“Right.” He lowered his head and kissed her square on the mouth.

Caught by surprise, she balled her fist to pound him on the chest. Only she failed to do so. She neither lifted her head away nor struggled to get out of his arms.

Astonishing
.

Deciding not to worry about it overmuch, she blamed her lack of response on his remarkable attraction and gave herself the freedom to relish the intoxicating moment, nothing more than pure pleasure. She forgot everything else and dissolved in the blissful feelings of his warm lips caressing hers in the traditional dance that stoked the inner fires of pleasure.

He stopped and lifted his head, the wicked smile firmly planted on his lips.

Thoroughly charmed and utterly surprised from the sensual delight of kissing a handsome, powerful man, she was not quite ready to stop. Desiring him to continue, she twisted slightly, then kissed him full on the lips.

Her unspoken desire was clearly a language he spoke fluently. He righted her, lifted her a foot higher, and then pressed her against the brick wall. His firm body provided support, while he cupped his hand behind her head to protect her from the rough stone.

He surged forward to grant her wishes and kissed her again in a deep, erotic, and altogether naughty kiss. The movement of the kiss soon escalated without control, a crescendo of gasping for breaths in between the fluid caresses of wet lips and tongues. The flared passion eventually melted until their kisses became an extended, languid moment of thoughtless bliss.

A feeling she missed.

Her fleeting pleasure ended when she heard the clacking sounds from the wheels of an approaching carriage.

A curricle came into view and drove toward them.

Mr. Drexel concealed her with his figure as best he could, providing anonymity by holding his hat several inches in front of her face. As a result, the curricle driver would suspect nothing more than lovers stealing a kiss and would be unable to identify her.