Rapturous Rakes Bundle (18 page)

had never wanted to feel responsible for another per-

son, preferring the independence that had been his way

of life until the previous night. He had not wanted a

woman to look on him with love. To see the same

selfless devotion reflected in Rebecca’s eyes that he

had seen in his mother... It made him feel sick. His

father had taken his mother’s love and had twisted it

out of all recognition through his endless infidelities.

It had been a salutary lesson to all his sons, but it was

Lucas who had felt it most keenly.

Yet now it was too late. He had seduced Rebecca

Raleigh, had taken her body with a rapture that he

would not previously have dreamed existed, and in the

process had been given her love, her soul. A part of

him wanted it most desperately, but the other part

shrank away.

Lucas got slowly to his feet and stumbled across to

the ewer on the chest of drawers. He bent over the

bowl and poured the water directly over his head. The

cold was refreshing, but the headache remained. He

rubbed a hand across his hair, smoothing it down, scat-

tering water droplets on his bare shoulders. He leaned

both hands on the top on the chest of drawers and

stared at his reflection in the glass.

There was only one solution—he would have to

marry Miss Rebecca Raleigh.

No matter that he had sworn not to marry, no matter

that he did not want the love of a good woman, no

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The
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Mistress

matter that he did not feel in the least worthy, he could

not make a bad situation worse by behaving like a

heartless seducer, taking her virginity and abandoning

her after.

Oddly the decision to marry, so long avoided,

soothed him. He felt immeasurably better, not only

because it was the honourable solution, but also be-

cause it felt like the right one in some deeply satis-

fying way he did not care to analyse. He told himself

cynically that this was because he had acted like a cad

and was taking the only respectable course of action,

albeit late in the day. He told himself even more cyn-

ically that once he was married to Rebecca he could

experience that exquisite bliss every night. That was a

decided benefit, one almost worth throwing away his

freedom on.

His conscience, still tiresomely alert, told him that

he was prevaricating and there was far more to his

emotions than the satisfaction of honour and rampant

desire. He told his conscience to be quiet.

He called his valet, dressed and made his way

downstairs, stopping dead as he entered the breakfast

room and found his elder brother already settled at the

table, his meal complete, a cup of coffee before him

and the
Morning
Post
in his hand.

Lucas started forward. ‘Justin! We were not ex-

pecting you until tomorrow at the earliest.’

Justin laughed, put the paper aside, got up and

shook Lucas’s hand. ‘I received your letter, Lucas, and

made what haste I could. I arrived late last night.’ He

shifted his broad shoulders against the chair back in

Nicola
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135

an effort to get comfortable. ‘I swear the roads get

worse by the day. I feel as stiff as an old man.’

‘What do you expect, at your age?’ Lucas said, with

an unsympathetic grin. ‘Dukes approaching their do-

tage must anticipate such troubles.’

‘Devil a bit,’ Justin said cheerfully, raising his cof-

fee and taking an appreciate mouthful. ‘I have a few

years left to me yet.’

He gestured to the coffee pot. ‘Are you having

some, Luc?’ He was studying his brother closely.

‘You’re looking a little rough, if you will forgive me.

Heavy night?’

Lucas hesitated. He looked with distaste at the litter

of breakfast on the table. He had no appetite. ‘It was

a somewhat unexpected evening,’ he said. He took a

deep breath. ‘Justin, there is something I feel I should

tell you—’

There was a knock at the door. ‘Tom Bradshaw is

here, your Grace,’ Byrne announced. ‘Shall I show

him in?’

Justin glanced at Lucas. ‘Can it wait, Luc? I saw

Bradshaw briefly last night and he had some infor-

mation I wanted to discuss with you at the earliest

opportunity.’

‘Of course.’ Lucas felt strangely on edge. It was he

who had set Tom Bradshaw on to investigate and

watch Rebecca Raleigh only a week before. It felt like

a lifetime; a lifetime in which he had briefly forgotten

the reason why he and Rebecca had met in the first

place, so wrapped up had he become in all that had

happened between them.

‘Bradshaw tells me,’ Justin said, folding his news-

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The
Rake’s
Mistress

paper precisely, ‘that Miss Raleigh has provided the

engraved glass that the Midwinter spies have been us-

ing for their cipher—’

‘It was her uncle who did the work,’ Lucas said,

without letting his brother finish. ‘I do not believe that

Miss Raleigh herself knows anything about it, other

than that her uncle was fulfilling a commission for a

client.’

There was a small silence. Lucas was very aware

of Justin’s gaze resting thoughtfully on him. He shifted

uncomfortably on his chair. He knew Justin to be very

shrewd. It would be well nigh impossible for him not

to give his feelings away.

‘I see,’ Justin said, in measured tone. ‘And the uncle

himself?’

Lucas hesitated. He was aware of a very strong urge

to say absolutely nothing at all. He wanted to protect

Rebecca, not draw her into danger. And yet that was

the precise reason that Justin was here.

He got up, thrust his hands into the pockets of his

trousers and paced across to the fireplace. ‘Her uncle

was George Provost. He died recently. Miss Raleigh

has carried on the work of the studio.’

Justin nodded. ‘I imagine that she is in some finan-

cial difficulty?’

Lucas could feel the screws turning. Justin’s line of

reasoning was not difficult to follow. ‘Why do you

imagine that?’ he asked expressionlessly.

‘It cannot be easy for a young lady to carve out

such a living if she is alone in the world. I take it,’

Justin added, gently persistent, ‘that she
is
alone?’

‘I... Yes.’ Lucas shot him a look. He was remem-

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137

bering the bare bedroom, pristinely neat, unmistakably

poor, where
he’d
left Rebecca this very morning. ‘She

lives in some hardship, certainly.’

Justin gave him a long look. ‘So it would be entirely

possible that she might succumb to the lure of a job

that paid very well, even if it were...illegal?’

Lucas met his eyes. ‘It is possible in principle, but

not in practice.’

‘How so?’

‘Because Miss Raleigh,’ Lucas said, struggling with

a temper that suddenly seemed incendiary, ‘is no trai-

tor, Justin. Besides, I have ascertained that no work

has been commissioned for the Midwinter spies since

the death of her uncle.’

Justin let that pass for a moment. ‘I see,’ he said

pleasantly. ‘But you do not deny that this mysterious

client who places his orders with the studio might have

instructed Miss Raleigh to keep the details of the com-

mission secret?’

‘She gave no such impression to me,’ Lucas said,

turning so sharply to look at his brother that he almost

drilled a hole in the carpet. ‘Indeed, she was very open

about the type of work the studio had engraved for

him.’

‘So you believe her innocent of all this,’ Justin said

thoughtfully. There was a spark of humour in his gaze.

‘In fact, you might just call me out if I imply other-

wise?’

Lucas shifted uncomfortably under his elder

brother’s observant gaze. ‘I believe she is entirely in-

nocent, yes.’

‘And her connection to the Archangel Club?’

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The
Rake’s
Mistress

Lucas could feel the tension stiff across his shoul-

ders. ‘Another commission, that is all.’

‘Miss Raleigh,’ Justin observed, ‘has commissions

from dubious sources.’

Lucas drew a sharp breath. He could hear the note

of impatience in his own voice, the tell-tale edginess

that gave his feelings away more clearly than any

words. ‘That is a co-incidence only.’

‘You are hot in her defence.’

‘I am.’

Their glances met and clashed like a sword thrust.

Justin laughed.

‘I see. So you see yourself as some sort of knight

errant who wishes to protect Miss Raleigh from dan-

ger.’

‘Hardly,’ Lucas snapped. His conscience flailed him

again. Of all the people who had placed Rebecca in

jeopardy, he was the most culpable.

‘Then,’ Justin said shrewdly, ‘your ill temper stems

from a guilty conscience. You feel a scoundrel because

you have deceived her as to your true interest.’

‘I have and I do,’ Lucas said, through shut teeth.

He was within an ace of losing his coolness altogether.

‘I have deceived Miss Raleigh in more ways than I

wish to count and the damnable thing is that I am

convinced she is innocent.’

Rebecca had been innocent in many ways until he

had laid a hand on her. Lucas thought of her trust and

her generosity of spirit and closed his eyes briefly.

‘Would you prefer it if I were to go to Clerkenwell

to interview her?’ Justin asked mildly.

‘No!’ Lucas almost shouted. The thought of Re-

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139

becca learning of his perfidy through a third party was

even more unendurable than the idea of telling her

himself.

Justin raised his brows. Lucas took a deep breath

and smoothed his hair down.

‘I apologise, but Miss Raleigh must hear the truth

from me, Justin. There is a particular reason for this.

I wish to marry her.’

Lucas had not intended to announce his matrimonial

plans in quite such a stark manner, but once the words

were out he felt inexpressibly relieved. Justin, who had

the reputation of being the coolest head in London,

looked slightly winded. He opened his mouth to frame

a response, but before the words were out there came

a tentative knock at the door and Tom Bradshaw en-

tered. From his apprehensive expression it was clear

that he had heard the raised voices from behind the

closed door.

‘Your Grace, my lord...’ He bowed. ‘Would you

prefer me to return later?’

Justin glanced at Lucas, who shook his head

abruptly. Whatever Bradshaw had to report, it was bet-

ter to learn it now.

‘Take a seat, Bradshaw,’ Justin said, nodding to the

chair opposite. ‘Lord Lucas and I may continue

this...fascinating...conversation at a later time.’

Lucas went across to lean against the mantel. He

had a disquieting feeling that the information Brad-

shaw was about to impart would not be to his liking.

The servant was no fool either; his gaze went from

one Kestrel brother to the other and his brows rose a

little. Lucas could feel his tension balling in his chest.

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The
Rake’s
Mistress

He saw Justin’s amused gaze on him, realised that he

was almost dancing with impatience, and forced him-

self to calm.

Tom Bradshaw looked at Lucas. ‘I have had Miss

Raleigh’s workshop under surveillance for the past

week, as you are aware, my lord,’ he began. He took

a scruffy notebook from his back pocket and flicked

the pages over. ‘The lady has few visitors and seldom

goes out, but yesterday she delivered a package to the

Archangel Club.’

Lucas was aware of Justin’s stillness and put his

own construction on it. ‘It was a commission for Lord

Fremantle,’ he said, ‘on behalf of the Club.’

Justin nodded noncommittally. ‘So I understand,’ he

said. ‘Pray continue, Bradshaw.’

Bradshaw ruffled the pages of the book. ‘Yes, your

Grace. A servant called yesterday afternoon to collect

the other commission that Miss Raleigh had waiting,