Redeeming a Rake (13 page)

“Are you?” The unexpected voice had a
pleasant soothing quality.

“I beg your pardon, I thought the room was
empty. Did I wake you?”

“The devil never sleeps.”

“Are you ill?”

“No. What are you looking for?”

“A green silk ribbon about this long.” She
held out her arms. “Mother says if I don’t plait my hair I won’t
get any dinner. I’ve looked everywhere. This was the last room. I
don’t know how I even lost it. I retied it this afternoon and then
the next thing I knew it was gone. How do ribbons disappear?”
Forgetting her hunger her eyes were drawn to the sparkling gem. “Is
that a real ruby? I didn’t know they made them so large.” There was
something about the relaxed hand that made her feel safe. She bent
down to get a closer look. “Mother has a glass ruby. I’ve heard
father telling her not to be daft; that no one would believe it was
real. I thought it was real, but yours is more sparkly. There was
no resistance as she picked up the large warm hand and gently moved
it about watching the firelight play off the stone. The pale
sculpted flesh was as fascinating as the stone. “What an elegant
hand. If I were you I’d wave it about and pretend I was a
Duke.”

“You shouldn’t be so trusting child. If your
parents learn you’ve kept me company you won’t eat anything, but
bread and water for years.”

“Why? Are you very wicked?”

“I’m an ugly rake-hell. I might as well be a
leper.”

The words were bitter causing her heart to
ache for the shadow-man. She held the hand with more tenderness and
stared at the shadow. “Have you really raked through hell?”

“Yes.”

It was a clipped reply that should have sent
her running for safety. “Does hell stink as bad as they say?”

“Worse!”

“You don’t seem very dangerous to me, not as
dangerous as Squire Woodston. He makes my skin crawl. Mother thinks
he’s wonderful because he has a pretty face and an aunt who’s some
titled lady, but I don’t like how he looks at my older sister;
she’s very beautiful. I can’t imagine you kicking a dog and
laughing. You don’t kick your dogs do you?”

“I’ve never had a dog.”

“Really? I haven’t either. When I marry I
want a cat. Are you married?”

“No. I’m not fit company for decent ladies.
If you were older I’d try to kiss you.”

“Would you really? I know I’m quite plain,
but I do have good teeth.” She opened her mouth wide to reveal
gleaming pearls of white and was rewarded by a soft chuckle. “Would
you really kiss me if I were older?”

“I would. One day you’ll be a lovely
woman.”

“In case you’re blind, you’re making me
blush.” Smiling at the man’s soft laughter, there was a gasp from
the shadows.

“You are lovely.”

There was new husky tone in his voice that
sent shivers down her spine. Then he was pulling her hands against
invisible lips. The gentle caress sent a painful shock down her arm
that made her cheeks burn. Jerking her hands free she stuck them
behind her back, but remained next to his chair. “Perhaps you’re
just a little bit dangerous.” The hand with the ruby disappeared as
the shadow bent over. Her heart beat faster as she wondered what he
was doing. Was he going to stand up and try to kiss her on the
lips? The thought made her heart race in horrified delight.

“It isn’t green, but you’ll get your
dinner.”

She reverently took the offered ribbon and
stared with gratitude at the shadow. “What a lovely pale blue;
thank you Sir. Are you sure…?”

“Yes! Now leave!” His voice was suddenly
harsh and cutting. “I’m not paying a fortune for privacy to be
plagued by children.”

She felt a strange sadness at the thought of
never seeing the shadow’s face. “Will I see you in the
morning?”

“No! Take the ribbon and get out.”

“But what if we were to meet someday; would
you kiss me?”

“Leave!” The angry roar nearly shoved her
over. Spinning on one foot she fled clutching her ribbon, the smell
of roasting pig suddenly making her feel sick.

Conscious of the staring ballroom, Tolerance
blushed as he finally released her hand. She dropped her voice to a
whisper. “Have you finished your search? I can’t believe you’re
here in the flesh looking like…looking so handsome.”

Her friend’s face lit up with pleasure and
relief. “There’s only one left, but there’s so much I need to tell
you. There are some things one can’t write it in a letter.” His
voice was barely a whisper. “Lady Pelham has had her revenge. She
never told me that I…”

A loud insistent cough behind Tolerance
drowned out her friend’s next words. “Mrs Spencer, will you
introduce me to your friend?”

Tolerance felt her face burn. “Forgive my
ill manners.” She tucked her hand around Geoffrey’s elbow and
smiled as her hand was gently pressed against his ribs. “Mr Felton,
may I present my friend, The Duke of Lyndhurst.” A reverberating
echo of gasps through the crowd accompanied Mr Felton’s snort of
disbelief. Glancing up to see how Geoffrey was taking the
introduction, she found herself the sole object of his attention as
if she were the only other person in the room. He looked just like
the man in her dream garden, but the flesh and blood version was
more unpredictable, more complex, more overwhelming.

Before Tolerance could ask her friend if he
remembered giving a little girl a ribbon, she was surrounded by
women desiring to be introduced to the beautiful wealthy Duke.
After twenty minutes her cheeks ached from forcing a smile as the
Duke of Lyndhurst kissed another pretty debutante’ hand. Her heart
wilted in the glare of truth; Geoffrey had transformed into
marriageable material and the ton would expect him to do his duty
and marry one of them. Why did he have to come back so beautiful?
She snapped open her fan to cool her cheeks as Geoffrey exerted
himself to charm Lady Cat Farnham, a notorious young shrew who
happened to be a stunning beauty. Her hope that he’d ask her was
cut dead as he lead the beauty onto the dance floor. Tolerance
tried to persuade herself that Geoffrey was merely being kind to
the host’s daughter, but seeing the handsome couple take their
place and smile at each other caused her heart to slump, but she
didn’t have time to be miserable. As soon as he was out of ear shot
the crowd of young ladies pummelled her heart with questions.

“Where have you been keeping him Tolerance,
Ireland?”

“Can you blame her for hiding him away? I
would!”

“Tell us Tolerance, what is he really like?
Is he one of those rakes who fight lots of duels and bleeds
romantically all over his carriage? His lips look made for
kissing.”

“Yes and those pale blue eyes look simply
divinely frightfully wicked! Do you think he’d try to kiss me if he
found me in a dark hall?”

“Don’t be a Ninny! Of course he’d try to
kiss you. He’d try to kiss any woman he found in a dark hall, he’s
a rake-hell, that’s what they do! I think we can safely assume that
Lady Cat will be hoping to prove the experiment. If she doesn’t
pull him out into the garden after this dance I’ll eat my fan.”

“I can’t believe how much he looks like
Strathmore, only more wicked.”

“Strathmore isn’t so well endowed. How could
anyone not fall in love with those magnificent shoulders? I don’t
believe the muscles on his legs are padding either.”

“I don’t believe he needs padding anywhere.
What a specimen!”

Tolerance listened to the laughing women
with growing distaste. Were these the people she called her
friends? She snapped her fan closed, “I’ve always found His Grace
to be a perfect gentleman. Do excuse me; I’m thirsty.”

On the other side of the ballroom, Penelope
Standish seethed with rage. The Devil’s Corpse had somehow been
resurrected into a beautiful man and the foolish ladies fluttering
around him like moths to a flame couldn’t see he was smitten with
the Spencer woman. The thought of Lyndhurst finding love made her
feel sick. The man didn’t deserve ten minutes of happiness. Lady
Penelope smiled as she realised that the man’s feelings for the
plain woman offered the perfect revenge. She’d been waiting for
years for a way to make him suffer. Breaking the devil’s heart
would be a pleasure. She smiled as she left the ball to arrange her
evening’s entertainment.

As Geoffrey led the beautiful Lady Cat
through the dance his eyes kept moving back towards the crowd of
women surrounding Tolerance. Something wasn’t right. She looked
more upset every time he glanced in her direction. He cursed his
stupid pride for wanting to make Tolerance jealous. There was only
one woman he wanted to be dancing with and she was on the other
side of the room, no she was walking toward the open double doors.
The come hither smile faded chilling his features.

The dance over Geoffrey bowed politely,
oblivious to the young woman’s charms and hurried after his
friend’s sunlight. Passing through stares and whispers with
indifference, after several cold futile minutes he stepped into the
room where the refreshments were laid out and smiled as warmth
flooded back into his body. There she was, holding a glass in her
hand, smiling at Mr Thackeray, the favourite from her list of
possible husbands. Geoffrey’s pleasure at her nearness was soured
by a burning jealousy. Clasping his wet palms behind his back, he
approached the couple and gave Thackeray a warning glare before
looking down at his friend and returning her smile. She couldn’t
smile at him like that and choose to marry some other man.

“Mr Thackeray, allow me to introduce my
friend the Duke of Lyndhurst.”

Thackeray took in the relaxed intimacy of
the couple and inwardly sighed with defeat. It was obvious the
lady’s heart had already made its choice. “A pleasure Your Grace…”
Thackeray bowed with just the right combination of respect and
self-possession to imply neither bootlicking or awe. “Your cousin
Bamford is one of my neighbours. It’s quite amazing, you look just
like the picture of your maternal grandfather except with pale blue
eyes and of course without the ruffles and powdered wig.”

“I’m aware of my grandfather’s
likeness.”

“Geoff…” Geoffrey smirked at her faux pas.
If the worm didn’t know Geoffrey was the man who owned her heart,
he did now. “…His Grace has only recently returned to London.
You’ve not mingled in society for some time; have you Your Grace?”
Her tone was almost sharp, he glanced down at his friend to find
she was no longer smiling.

“Uh…I suppose not.”

“And where have you been travelling Your
Grace?”

Geoffrey looked down at his friend. “I was
everywhere, but in the sunlight.” He smiled as she blushed, but
turned back to Thackeray with narrowed eyes. “I’ve been travelling
around…practicing my shot.” Geoffrey heard Tolerance snap close her
fan, but didn’t think anything of it.

“There’s nothing like the smell of gun
powder to make one feel alive eh? Oh dear…I believe I owe the next
dance to a young lady. If you’ll excuse me.” Feeling like he’d won
a duel Geoffrey turned an adoring smile back towards his friend,
but found an unhappy expression that chilled his blood.

“How could you threaten to kill Mr
Thackeray…and at a ball?”

“I merely mentioned I was practicing my
shot. Men often talk about shooting things.”

“You were rude!”

“I’m a Duke, it’s expected.”

“I’m disappointed in you Geoffrey.”

Geoffrey paled as if he’d been slapped. “I
didn’t like how he looked at you.” It was the truth, if not the
exact reason he wanted to shoot the man.

“And how did he look at me?”

“I got your letter. Don’t marry him!”
Geoffrey was overwhelmed by an uncharacteristic feeling he should
fall on his knees and beg her to marry him, but he couldn’t expose
his heart in front of a jeering crowd. He’d ask her the next
afternoon with a special license in his pocket. “You asked for my
opinion.” He sighed in relief as she suddenly smiled.

“I dreamt last night that you’d received my
letter. Your dream self was similarly unimpressed with the list. I
had to assure you that it wasn’t complete…I’ve missed you!”

Geoffrey felt his blood rush with
exhilaration through his veins as his heart filled with hope.
“Forgive my ill manners Sunshine, but he doesn’t love you. He
wouldn’t walk away and leave you at the mercy of a worthless
rake-hell if he did. I could never walk away if I thought you were
in danger. I’ve no idea what makes a good husband, but he wouldn’t
be one.”

“And the other men on the list?”

“Worms!”

“Did you have any personal recommendations?
I value your opinion. I’m sure you could name at least one man
who’d care about me enough to prove a good husband.”

Geoffrey looked into hopeful eyes and gulped
down the nerves restricting his airway. He took a deep breath and
prayed he wouldn’t be rejected. “I do know one man who cares for
you. A man who…” His words were cut off as a crowd of young ladies
surged into the room and encircled the couple ending any hope of
privacy.

Geoffrey’s temper began to fray as Tolerance
was rebuffed every time she tried to join the conversation. His
lips formed a grim line as his pale blue eyes sparkled with
resentment, but the fawning lambs took no notice. The Devil’s
Corpse had been transformed into the catch of the season and they
were all determined to win his attention.

Distracted by a barrage of questions it was
several minutes before Geoffrey was aware that his angel had
disappeared. Ignoring the young woman speaking to him he turned to
try to see if Tolerance was getting a drink, but the room was empty
of sunlight. He abruptly excused himself and walked as fast as he
could without breaking into a run back to the ballroom. Stopping in
the door way he scanned the company with a heavy heart. He couldn’t
believe she’d leave without saying goodbye. Ignoring fawning
debutantes, he methodically searched every room three times before
accepting she wasn’t there. If her head was pounding like his from
the noise of laughing ladies he could understand her rush to
escape. There was no reason to remain a moment longer. He turned
towards the door, but only got a few steps before Lord Cranston
stepped into his path nearly knocking him over. Geoffrey cursed the
man dressed in a hideous green and yellow striped suit, but was
ignored. Feeling rattled, Geoffrey was more aware of movements
around him as he regained his composure.