A Lady's Guide to Rakes (18 page)

Meredith turned her head. The rake grinned sleepily back at her, then propped his weight onto one elbow, allowing the covers to fall away from his well-muscled chest.

Meredith’s gaze fastened on the dark band of ink ringing his muscled arm. “Good heavens. What is
that?
“ She slipped her hand from under the covers and touched his arm with her fingertip.

“Ah, this?” Alex glanced at the tattoo. “The mark of the rake, didn’t you know? We
all
have them. Though, now that I have reformed, I am at a loss as to how to remove it.”

At first, Meredith actually believed him, having never seen a naked rake in the daylight. But then he flashed one of those crooked smiles of his and she knew he was only teasing her. Then, without warning, he leaned close and kissed her bare shoulder. Shivers of delight skittered across her skin, making her accidentally sigh with pleasure.

“Stop that!” Meredith shook off the sensation and pulled the covers high so only her head stuck out the top.

“Tis quite unseemly.”

“Really, darling? You didn’t think so last eve.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Meredith, how can you not remember what happened? ‘Twas a night I will never forget.”

“I haven’t the faintest notion of what you are speaking, sir.” Then suddenly a clutch of erotic images flooded her mind.

Oh no. Oh please.

Her own eyes widened. “Alex,” she whispered, “tell me ‘twas a dream. I didn’t… I mean, we didn’t—” She shook her head from side to side, hoping upon hope that he would mimic her.

But he didn’t.

“Alex, please say something. God, say anything!”

Alexander glanced downward, then drew in a deep breath and raised his eyes to hers again. “Marry me.”

“ ‘
Please
be serious.”

“I am serious. Marry me.”

Meredith looked him in the eyes, expecting to see laughter there, but there was none. There was a confidence in his gaze, a sureness of purpose. It suddenly became quite clear to her that Alexander was perfectly sincere. She gaped at him.

Alexander took her hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed it gently. “I admit, I did not ask you to Harford Fell to give you a horse. I wanted my father to know you. I wanted to be permitted to be with you, to walk with you, to talk for hours on end. I wanted time, something unmarried gentlemen and ladies are not afforded in abundance in London.” Alexander turned her hand over and kissed her wrist, then looked deep into her eyes. “I did not mean for this to happen between us. On my honor, I did not, yet I do not regret it. I never will. You mean everything to me. Marry me. Say you will.”

Annie quietly returned to the bedside. She swiped Meredith’s shift from the floor and, keeping her eyes down, discreetly handed it to her.

For a time, Meredith did not move. She just peered back at Alex. Then finally she dived beneath the coverlet and, after wrestling with the silken garment for several seconds, emerged, at least partially dressed. “My dressing gown, Annie. Quickly,
please
.”

Alexander’s lips curled as Meredith self-consciously fought her tousled curls. “I can obtain a special license and we could have the deed done within a day—two at the most Marry me.”

Meredith stared back at him. “I cannot marry
you!
“

“Well, I am afraid you have little choice… I have ruined you.” When she continued to stare, he added, “Physically.”

“You?” Meredith softened her voice. “Lord Lansing, y-you did not ruin me.”

“I do beg to differ.” He sat up in the bed beside her, and even as shocking as her situation was, she could not help but follow the trail of dark hair from his chest to where it disappeared beneath the coverlet.

“Alex…” She looked up and peered deeply into his eyes, then bowed her head to study her twisting fingers as she spoke. “I have not been a… maiden for nigh on two years now.”

“What did you say?” Alexander blinked at her, then raised his hand before her and glanced away momentarily. “No, no, I heard you. I just—” He seemed to straggle for the right words to finish his thought, but none came.

“I—I thought you knew, Alex.”

“I knew about Pomeroy… but not”—he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes—”… and yet the ton—”

“I was left at the altar. Made a fool of by a rake.” Meredith felt her throat quiver and heard her voice begin to shake. “Had my aunts not had the money to ensure my debaucher’s silence, as well as enough influence within the first circles of Society to make certain my disgrace at St. George’s was virtually overlooked, I most certainly would have been barred from every drawing room.”

Annie cornered the bed with Meredith’s dressing gown. “ ‘Ere you go, Miss Meredith.”

Meredith had just slipped her arms through the sleeves when she felt her eyes begin to heat. No, she would not cry. Not in front of Alex. Not ever. She fixed her gaze on the door to the passageway and threw her legs over the edge of the bed. Alexander grasped her wrist.

“Do you not understand, Meredith? I don’t care a damn about your past. I only care about you.
Marry
me.”

Meredith could not meet his eye. She didn’t want his pity… his charity. “I told you, I was not a maiden. You owe me nothing. Please just leave.” She looked down at his hand upon her wrist. “Or at least free me so that I may go—”

“I will return to the chamber next door, once you tell me why, even after we have lain together, that you will not consider accepting my troth.” His voice was suddenly thick.

Confusion licked at Meredith’s mind. Why, after bedding half the women in London, did he suddenly feel the need to marry
her.

She raised her gaze to his. “Because… of Chillton.”

“Are you claiming that you are in love with him?”

Alexander laughed skeptically, but it sounded forced to Meredith’s ears. “Darling, I know you. You no more love him than I love—” His words died miserably on his lips.

“What were you going to say, Alexander? That I no more love him… than you love me?”

“No.” Alexander lowered his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did.” Meredith yanked her wrist from his hold. “A rake never gives his heart. So, please, let us not pretend that you have.”

The doorknob rattled and Meredith’s eyes darted to Annie’s.

“Meredith?” Aunt Letitia called through the mahogany door. “Open up, dear. Sister and I wish to speak with you.”

Meredith turned to Alexander and with her eyes implored him to leave.

With a nod, Alexander crawled from bed and bundled up his clothing and boots; then with a shiver born of the cool morning air, he walked naked through the French windows onto the balcony.

“Oh, my word!” The shock in her aunt Viola’s voice was clear as her words sailed into the bedchamber from the balcony. “L-Lord Lansing.”

Meredith raced to the window to find Alexander in the middle of the balcony, his clothing bundled over his sex, staring straight into prim Aunt Viola’s eyes, who stood there as well.

“So sorry, my lady,” Alexander was saying. “Just went for a swim in the lake this morn. Thought I was heading back into my chamber.”

Aunt Viola was clearly dubious. “Oh really? I thought you were
coming from
Meredith’s bedchamber.”

Alexander grinned sheepishly. “No, no. Heading for my own.”

Taking five wide strides backward, Alexander pulled at the handle of his chamber’s French window. When the latch depressed, he quietly stepped through. “Damned sense of direction, you know. Found the right chamber now, though.” He bowed his head. “Good morn.”

Aunt Viola stepped inside, headed straight for the interior door, and turned the key she found poised inside the lock to let her sister into the room.

The pair silently sat on the edge of Meredith’s bedstead, watching her.

“Well, gel?” her Aunt Letitia began. “Do you have something to tell us?”

Meredith gulped. “I… I—”

Aunt Viola, quite unbelievably, was suddenly smiling brightly.

“What Sister is asking is… have you chosen a date for the wedding?”

A rake will pay boundless attention to a lady one day, then seem to forget her the next. This is intended to tip the lady from her footing, making her wonder what she did or said incorrectly, while keeping him in her mind for days.

“Annie, please help me dress.” Meredith crossed the bedchamber to the basin and ewer. Pouring some well water into the blue-and-white bowl, she splashed her face, then began to wash, shivering at the icy temperature.

Her Aunt Letitia cleared her throat. “You wouldn’t rather have a bath?”

Meredith looked over her shoulder at the two Feather-ton ladies, who were still sitting, side by side, on the edge of the bed, watching her.

Aunt Letitia gave her a sweet, grandmotherly smile. “After last night… you know.”

Meredith twisted her face into a scowl. “There isn’t time enough. We must leave at once.” She turned her head to her abigail, who had one foot outside the French window and was peering toward Lord Lansing’s chamber. “Annie! Come back in here at once, please.”

Annie stepped back into the chamber with a disappointed sigh and turned the twist latch on the window, locking it. “I was only trying to get a better look at that rake’s mark of his.” Then she saw the angry look in Meredith’s eyes. “For my own safety, you see. Now I can recognize a rake straight away… if I see his mark, I mean.”

“Please, Annie. Just throw everything into the portmanteau. I cannot stay here a moment longer.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Meredith, but if I just throw everything in, as you said, all your clothing will be wrinkled and crushed.”

Meredith stopped washing her left underarm. “I don’t care. I have to get out of here before
he
comes back.”

“Well, I care, miss. ‘Twill double my work when we get back to London, it will,” Annie cheekily informed her. “So if you don’t mind, I will wrap and fold your things. Won’t take but a minute more. You’ll see.”

Both aunts chuckled at Annie’s gall. It was clear neither of them was in any rush to leave Harford Fell.

Meredith dropped the cloth and soap cake into the basin, sending a swell of water over its edge. She glared at her aunts. “Do not pretend innocence with me. I know that whatever you stirred into my cordial is to blame for what happened last night.”

“And what was that, dear?” Aunt Viola asked, appearing all wide-eyed and innocent

“Y-you know very well what happened!” Then Meredith lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “We… shared a bed.” She drew her brows close. “Really…
shared
it.”

“When you say ‘shared it’… do you mean the two of you were intimate?” Aunt Letitia asked.

Annie pretended to be packing, though it was obvious she was listening with great interest. Meredith shot a glare in her direction too… just for good measure.

“You of all people should know,” Meredith snapped as she snatched up a morning dress from the pile beside the portmanteau. “ ‘Twas the fault of your drug. What was it, some sort of Chinese aphrodisiac from your apothecary?”

Aunt Viola was already nodding. “Oh yes, the powder was from our trusted apothecary, but—”

“I knew it!” Meredith pulled the gown over her head, then gestured for Annie to tighten her ribbon cinch at the back.

“But ‘twas not meant to arouse,” her aunt continued. “ ‘Twas only my sleeping powder that we mixed into your refreshments.”

Meredith could not believe what she was hearing. “What do you mean?”

“Dear gel, if you and the young lord felt the undeniable urge to make love, ‘twas not due to the effects of the powder. That longing came from the two of you.”

Hot red dots burned on both of Meredith’s cheeks. “Are you saying I
wanted
to bed Lord Lansing? If you are, I vow you are quite mad.”

Aunt Letitia laughed. “Then send us to Bedlam, dear, for the only aphrodisiac in play last eve was in your minds.”

Meredith gasped as Annie gave one last tug at her ribbon and tied it off. “Why, then, did you put the powder in our drinks? It makes no sense to me.”

“So the two of you would end up in bed together—too drugged to move—so you’d
have
to marry each other. I should think that fact is quite clear.” Annie cupped her hand over her mouth. “Beggin’ your pardon, Miss Meredith. I did not mean to speak out of turn.”

“No, no, Annie, I am glad you did.” Meredith crossed her arms over her chest and looked down her nose at her aunts. “I thank you for being honest, for it is obvious to me that my aunts would not have been so willing to supply the truth.”

She walked toward the bed and stood before the two old women. “So, is Annie’s story the truth of the matter? Were you hoping to force a marriage between Lord Lansing and me?”

The Featherton ladies nodded sheepishly.

“But why?” Meredith unfolded her arms and brought a hand to her forehead. She began to pace. “Why would you wish me to marry Lansing when you know my cap is set for Mr.Chillton?”

“Why Chillton, child?” Aunt Viola rose and put a comforting arm around Meredith’s waist.

Meredith looked up at her aunt, dumbfounded. “You, of all people, should know the answer to that. I-I am
ruined!
When Lord Pomeroy left me, my fate was sealed. Were it not for the two of you, I was to be a spinster living my life with eyes cast downward in shame.”

Aunt Viola gave her a look of pure pity. “Dear, you needn’t feel shame. You did nothing but follow your heart.”

“I wish Society felt that way, Auntie, but we both know better. Mr. Chillton, however, can save me from such a fate. It matters not to him that Pomeroy set me aside. In fact, he refuses to even discuss my past. Our union is perfectly logical—I will be able to hold my head high again and he will have the advantage of a Society connection for business.”

“And what of Lansing?” Viola watched Meredith pensively. “Can he not save your reputation as well?”

“Yes, he could. He is to be a respected earl. He needs a respected wife. Not me.” Meredith tamed a teary gaze upon her aunt. “Do you not think I have heard the ton’s derisive whispers? My past would only shame Lord Lansing.” She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “No, it is Chillton I will marry.”