Rapturous Rakes Bundle (9 page)

there, exciting, pleasurable and at the same time

deeply comforting, like coming home.

Rebecca put her face in her hands for a brief mo-

ment, then bent to scoop up the pencils and the sheets

of paper that were still lying scattered on the floor.

She reminded herself that bliss was a very short-lived

and deceptive feeling, for when it had gone, as it

surely would, one was left counting the cost.

She must be practical. She had a living to earn and

she wanted matters neat, tidy and simple. There was

no room in her private life for passion when it all went

into her work. Nothing must induce her to accept
carte

blanche.
Not Lucas’s persuasions, nor her own desires.

She owed it to herself to keep that pledge.

All the same, she was tempted.

Chapter
Three

Lord Lucas Kestrel was feeling guilty. It was not a

sensation that was familiar to him and he did not care

for it. It was a guilt that had crept over him during the

previous few days and had finally driven him out of

the house at nearly midnight to take refuge at White’s,

where his friends had greeted him with great pleasure

and had promptly set out to relieve him of a large part

of his army pay. Since Lucas could not concentrate he

lost very quickly, and had just thrown his cards in for

a final time when someone touched his shoulder and

Cory Newlyn’s voice said in his ear, ‘Would you care

to join me for a drink, Lucas, before you lose your

shirt?’

Lucas looked up, his dark scowl lightening into a

reluctant smile. Cory had been a friend of the Kestrels

for many years and the two of them had met only the

previous week when he had called on Lord Newlyn at

the British Museum to discuss the pictorial code being

used by the Midwinter spies.

Lucas stretched. ‘I’ll gladly join you,’ he said, mov-

ing to sit with Cory at a quiet corner table where a

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67

bottle of port already resided on the table between

them. Cory sat down, crossed his long legs at the ankle

and viewed Lucas with a meditative air.

‘The only time I have seen a man lose like that was

when your brother Richard was suffering the pangs of

unrequited love for Deborah Stratton,’ he said cheer-

fully. ‘There must be something weighing heavy on

your mind. What is going on, Luc?’

Lucas scowled. ‘Damn it, Cory,’ he said feelingly,

‘must you be so shrewd?’

Cory laughed. ‘Forgive me. If you do not wish to

talk...’

Lucas shrugged, trying to shake off his irritation. ‘I

feel guilty because I am behaving like a cad,’ he said

bluntly. Briefly he told Cory the tale of his dealings

with Rebecca Raleigh. ‘Tom Bradshaw discovered

that she worked out of a studio in Clerkenwell,’ he

finished. ‘Until four months ago it belonged to her

uncle, George Provost. He was a well-respected en-

graver, if not a particularly eminent one, and he would

have been the perfect choice to make the Midwinter

engravings, for he would welcome the business but not

be famous enough for anyone to recognise his work.’

Cory grimaced. ‘You are sure?’

‘Certain.’ Lucas toyed with his glass of port, watch-

ing the deep red liquid glow in the light. ‘I have been

to the studio. There were some pieces there that

matched the patterns on the Midwinter glass precisely,

and Miss Raleigh confirmed that they were her uncle’s

work.’ Lucas sighed and sat back. ‘There can be no

doubt.’

‘So we have found our engraver.’

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The
Rake’s
Mistress

‘It would appear so. But as he has so inconveniently

died, his niece is our only contact to the Midwinter

spy ring and I need more information from her.’

Cory pulled a face. ‘I see your dilemma.’

Lucas nodded. ‘I am taking advantage of Miss Ra-

leigh’s vulnerability because I want her to confide in

me,’ he said. He pulled a disgusted face. ‘Good God,

it sounds even worse when I express it like that! I can

scarce believe what I am doing.’

Cory did not reply immediately. He lifted the bottle

and poured another glass of port slowly, watching Lu-

cas’s face as he did so.

‘It sounds to me,’ he said perceptively, ‘that you are

suffering an excess of remorse over this, Luc. We all

know that espionage can be an unpleasant business,

requiring the sort of actions one might not normally

contemplate.’ He looked closely at his friend. ‘Are you

sure that your feelings are not involved?’

Lucas drew rings on the highly polished surface of

the side table with his wine glass. He tried to block

out the memory of kissing Rebecca and the promise

of passion with which she had responded to him. That

had not been part of his original plan. He had intended

to draw her out and gain her confidence, nothing more,

but the mutual attraction between them had made a

mockery of his good intentions. And then it had taken

little to change good intentions to bad ones...

He had been reading the poetry of Ben Jonson the

previous night. God only knew why—he was a man

of action, not a scholar. He suspected that it was a

book his brother Richard had left lying around and he

had picked it up because he was bored and restless

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69

and thinking too much on Miss Rebecca Raleigh. He

should have known better. Poetry never helped a man

to think straight, and when he had stumbled across a

line from the ‘Queen of Love’ he had paused and

thought of her even more, for he seemed powerless to

resist.

‘You
will
turn
all
hearts
to
tinder...’

He told himself that he had kissed Rebecca because

he had been testing her, suspicious of the innocence

that cloaked her like a shield. He had wondered if that

purity could possibly be genuine. Yet there had been

nothing calculated about their embrace. Lucas himself

was experienced enough to know the difference be-

tween real and counterfeit emotion, the type that men

could buy from courtesans. There was nothing coun-

terfeit about Rebecca Raleigh. He had acted on im-

pulse and her response had shaken him. And when he

had seen the confusion of desire in her face as he

released her, he had been overtaken by such a wave

of tenderness... He shook his head. That was no way

for a rake to think. More to the point, it was no way

for him to be thinking when he was conducting an

investigation.

Cory cleared his throat gently and Lucas glanced

up.

‘I confess that I find it difficult to be detached about

this,’ he said morosely, answering the question in his

friend’s eyes. ‘I cannot conceive how it happened.’

Cory’s lips twitched. ‘How many times have you

met Miss Raleigh?’ he asked.

‘Twice.’

‘And what do you know of her?’

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The
Rake’s
Mistress

‘Very little, as yet.’

Lucas realised that in terms of fact this was proba-

bly true, but that in terms of instinct, on a deeper level,

he felt that he already knew Rebecca intimately. It was

a disquieting feeling. The little that he did know

prompted him to trust her, to take her into his confi-

dence. He was sure that she could not be guilty of

involvement in the Midwinter spy ring. Perhaps even

her uncle had not known the nature of the business he

was involved in. When Lucas had studied the pieces

on display in Rebecca’s studio, his heart had sunk like

a stone at the likenesses between the engraving on the

glasses there and the ones in his possession. It was the

first time he had visited an engraver’s studio
not
want-

ing to find the patterns he sought. But the style was

unmistakable.

‘Ask her to tell you the truth.’ Cory was watching

him, his face grave. ‘Either that, or disengage until

Justin returns from Midwinter and can question her

himself.’ He grimaced. ‘When do you expect him

back?’

‘In a week or so.’ Lucas rubbed his brow. ‘I cannot

disengage, Cory. We cannot take the risk that Miss

Raleigh is involved with the Midwinter spies. If she

were to suspect anything and disappear, we would

have lost the lead. Worse, she would warn the others

what had happened and then all our work would be

destroyed.’

‘And if she is innocent?’ Cory questioned. ‘How

will she feel to discover that you have approached her

under false pretences?’

Lucas’s lips thinned. It was the one question that he

Nicola
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71

had not permitted himself to consider. ‘I cannot allow

that to influence me.’

There was a silence between them. ‘I appreciate

your difficulty, Lucas,’ Cory said slowly. ‘Sometimes,

however, a man must follow his instinct.’

‘Following one’s instinct can get one killed,’ Lucas

said bleakly.

‘And ignoring it can lose a man the one thing he

most desires,’ Cory pointed out gently.

Lucas shifted irritably. ‘Marriage is making you

soft, Cory Newlyn. Why tie yourself to one woman

when there is an entire legion of them out there?’

‘Perhaps,’ Cory said, ‘because one particular

woman is all you need?’

Lucas gave him a cynical smile. ‘Definitely soft,

Cory.’

‘All rakes reform in the end,’ Cory said, ‘unless

they want to end as sad old roueś leaning on their

canes and leering at the de´butantes.’

Lucas shuddered. ‘You paint such an attractive pic-

ture.’

‘Think about it,’ Cory said, smiling. ‘Look at Rich-

ard.’

Lucas shook his head. ‘Richard was ready to re-

form,’ he said slowly. ‘He was in love. I...’ he hesi-

tated, ‘...I am not.’

Cory sighed. ‘Nor ever shall be? I thought that you

had recovered well enough from your youthful dis-

appointment to realise that not all women are design-

ing harpies.’

Lucas laughed. ‘Oh, I have. My antipathy does not

stem from that.’ His face stilled. ‘It is more that I have

72

The
Rake’s
Mistress

never met a woman to whom I wished to be faithful.

Ever after is a long time.’

‘You are thinking of your father,’ Cory said acutely.

Lucas shrugged. ‘I am thinking of my mother,’ he

said. ‘She detested Papa’s philandering, but she never

said a word against him.’ He shifted uncomfortably in

his chair for, even now, the memories were hard to

recall. ‘She never said a word, but she lost the hap-

piness that once lit her eyes. I could not ask for such

stoicism from my wife.’ He fixed Cory with a sardonic

look. ‘If you start to tell me, in that exasperating man-

ner of happily married people, that I shall feel differ-

ently when I meet the right woman, then—’

Cory held up a hand peaceably. ‘I should not dream

of it, Luc.’ He got to his feet and slapped Lucas good-

naturedly on the shoulder. ‘I wish you good fortune. I

am away, home to my wife.’

Lucas watched Cory’s tall figure thread its way

through the milling crowd about the card tables. He

saw Cory pause to greet an acquaintance here and

there, but there was a barely repressed impatience

about him that soon had him on the move again. Lucas

noticed that he turned down at least two offers of a

round of piquet and several invitations to join some

cronies for a drink. He shook his head thoughtfully.

He had the greatest admiration for Rachel Newlyn, but

he could not see why Cory should be in such a hurry

to return to her side. Petticoat government... He had

done very well without it these twenty-eight years past

and he was not about to succumb to its lure now. This

business with Rebecca Raleigh was a different matter

entirely. The only reason he felt badly about deceiving

Nicola
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73

her was because she was young and alone. She had

struck him as gallant. Yes, that was the word to de-

scribe Miss Raleigh. She was gallant in the face of all

the odds and he admired her courage whilst being in