Read Rules for Reforming a Rake Online
Authors: Meara Platt
“I’ve come too early.” His heart tugged at the sight of her, for the smile she had for him was broad and filled with affection.
“Nonsense,” she said with a laugh, “I’ve slept too late.”
She instructed her maid to remove the breakfast tray and leave them to discuss matters in private. “That’s better,” she said once they were alone. “I’m glad you’re here, but is there a reason for your visit?”
He drew up a chair beside her bed. “I’ll be leaving town soon and wanted to pay a call upon my favorite girl before I did.”
“I heard about that hunt you and Edgeware are planning.” She tried to sound casual, but he heard the undercurrent of reproach in her voice. “How long will you be gone?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, depends upon the weather.”
Eloise shook her head and sighed. “Two of the
ton’s
most eligible bachelors gone for an indeterminate period of time just as the season starts, that ought to send the marriage-minded mamas into a frenzy. I hope you don’t stay away too long.”
He reached out to squeeze her hand. “I’ll try not to.”
She gave his hand a light squeeze in return and pursed her lips. Gabriel knew that her mind was busily working up another plan to match make, so he wasn’t surprised when she said, “Will you be attending Lady Baldridge’s musicale this evening?”
“Yes.” But he’d leave soon afterward, for he had the identification documents and supplies he needed. His passage to France was also in order. There was nothing to keep him in London any longer.
“Have you spoken to Daisy about your trip?”
“No,” he said with an exasperated sigh, releasing his grandmother’s hand. He ought to be avoiding the girl, not aching to spend every moment with her before he left town.
“She’s a lovely girl, you really ought to get to know her better.”
He arched an eyebrow. Had his grandmother always been this meddlesome, or had she acquired that trait from spending too much time with the Farthingales? “Perhaps when I return from the hunting trip.” He noted the hopeful glint in her eye and hastened to quell it. “I can’t promise anything, Eloise. Anyway, you were never any good at matchmaking. Don’t start now.”
The fat curls of silver framing her face bobbed as she quirked her head. “You’re being utterly ridiculous.”
“For wishing to avoid marriage?” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. If only she realized how little encouragement he needed to pursue Daisy! He should never have kissed her that first time in the carriage. Hell, he should never have done a lot of things with her.
“Not just marriage, but marriage to Daisy,” Eloise said with a frown. “No other girl can compare. She’s the best.”
“I like her,” he said quietly. “Truly, I do. I don’t wish to hurt her. That’s why I want you to encourage her to move on. She needs to find a more suitable gentleman to marry. One who’ll make her happy as I never can.”
The fight seemed to drain out of his grandmother. “Oh, Gabriel,” she said softly, “I wasn’t born yesterday. There are sparks enough between the two of you to light the entire town on fire.” She paused and pursed her lips once more. “Love is a rare and precious gift. Don’t squander it. Indeed, I would urge you to act fast. Auguste Malinor has been quite attentive to her lately.”
Not that sneaky worm.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“I’ve been watching them together. There’s no fiery heat between them, not like you and Daisy.”
He leaned closer. “I’m a rakehell, Grandmama. Sparking fires in women is what I do best. And since we’re on the topic of fires and sparks, what were you thinking in lending Lady Forsythia’s book to Daisy? The girl is a menace with those rules. She hasn’t properly followed a single one.”
His grandmother chuckled. “That’s what makes her so delightful.”
Hell, yes.
But it isn’t something one could ever admit to one’s own grandmother.
“Daisy insists there is something noble in you,” she said, her merriment suddenly fading. “What does she understand that we don’t? When she looks at you, she doesn’t see the debauched creature who offends everyone. She sees a man worthy of her love.”
“No doubt that silly idea was put into her head by Lady Forsythia’s book. Get it out of her hands before she causes irreparable harm to herself.”
“Is that the reason for your visit?” She frowned at him. “To berate me for lending her the book?”
“No, sweetheart. I just wanted to see you before I left.” He slapped his hands against his thighs and rose. “And now that I have, I believe it’s time for me to go.”
Her curls bobbed and a little
harrumph
escaped her lips. “So soon? You’ve just arrived.”
“I love you, Eloise,” he said, wanting their last moments to be tender, especially if this was to be their last meeting. He’d be off on his secret mission by tomorrow at the latest and wouldn’t return until Napoleon was defeated. Death, if it came on this mission, would be swift and he was prepared for it.
However, lying to his family, agonizing over their hurt and disappointment, was an enduring scar that cut deep into his heart.
She reached out and gave him a fierce hug. “I love you, too. I’ll never stop loving you, Gabriel.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He appreciated her words more than she would ever know. He’d tried to see his father before coming here and been curtly turned away. His father was still angry over his slight to the Fribble sisters.
Gabriel could have pushed his way in and confronted him, but there was nothing to be gained by it. He’d hurt his father too badly, broken too many promises to fix the situation in a matter of minutes.
He gave his grandmother a final, lingering embrace.
Stay strong for me, Eloise! Look after Daisy for me.
She gazed at him as he drew away, and suddenly appeared quite distressed. She placed a hand over her heart. “Dearest, you must be very careful on this hunt. I held you just now and had a vision of you swathed in black. Veils of black. Gabriel, I saw death all about you.”
Damn it.
He wasn’t the superstitious sort and his grandmother was never known to have the “gift” of foresight. “You mustn’t let it upset you. We’re going off on a hunt, so we’re bound to kill a few game birds.”
She cast him a pensive frown. “No, these were men I saw around you.”
He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ve dealt with jealous husbands before and survived. You must have eaten a bad kipper for breakfast.”
“I had eggs.” Her frown deepened.
He shook his head and drew away. “Watch out for those runny eggs. Farewell, Eloise.”
***
The sky had turned from cloudless blue to ominous gray, Gabriel realized as he strode down the steps of his grandmother’s townhouse a short while later. A groom rushed forward, leading Goliath. He thanked the lad and mounted.
“Wind’s picking up, old boy,” he said, patting the stallion’s neck and glancing up at the approaching wall of gray clouds. “But I don’t think it will rain. Sun will come out again within the hour, I’ll wager.” He’d just turned onto Chipping Way when he heard shouts coming from next door.
Hell in a handbasket.
The Farthingale residence.
He looked up when a young, female voice cried out, “Up there!”
He glanced among the leafless branches of the towering oak which stood in the Farthingale’s front garden and saw little Harry making his way up to the very top. “Harry!”
Eloise had just sensed death.
It wasn’t going to be that little boy’s death.
He drew up Goliath, leaped the stone fence, and rushed toward the tree. The twins and several children and their nannies were gathered under it, most of the children crying.
“Daisy’s climbed up after him,” Lily said as he reached her side.
He flung off his jacket and tossed it to the ground.
It damn well wasn’t going to be Daisy’s death either.
He saw that she was already halfway up the tree, her gown hiked up to her knees and her shoes off, leaving her only in her stocking feet. He swung onto the first branch and continued upward, quickly reaching Daisy, who was now having difficulty making her way up the smaller branches because her stockings were catching on the tree bark. “I’ll get him. Climb down, Daisy. It isn’t safe up here.”
She smiled in surprise. “What are you doing here? I mean on Chipping Way, not in this tree.”
“Visiting Eloise. I was riding home when I heard the children’s shouts.” He put his arm around her waist, preparing to ease past her. A damp wind rustled through the branches and carried the apple-sweet scent of Daisy on its steady gusts. “Let me get Harry.”
“No, these smaller branches will break under your weight.” She refused to let him pass, so they momentarily remained pressed against each other, each stubbornly determined to take the lead and wait for the other to give in. “Let me do it,” she insisted.
He would have been happy to spend the rest of the afternoon in this position, Daisy’s soft body molding to his hard muscle, but Harry was in danger and this was no time for argument. Daisy was right. Those slender branches would crack under his weight. What if they couldn’t hold her weight either? “I’ll stay close as I can to catch you if you lose your footing.”
“But—”
“I’m not about to let you or Harry fall. We’ll work together. Let me hold you while you try to reach the boy.”
“Work together?” She cast him another of her soft, Daisy smiles. “I like the idea. In truth, I’m glad you’re here. I’m never scared when you’re beside me.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he kissed her on the nose. “Start climbing.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t have admitted that to you. Lady Forsythia’s rules specifically forbid a young lady from revealing her feelings to the rake in question.” She stepped up to a higher branch so that her breasts were aligned with his mouth. He had only to tip his head forward and— “I suppose I shouldn’t have admitted that I love you, either. I’ve decided not to take it back. I’m not sorry that I love you, Gabriel.”
She climbed higher still so that the junction of her thighs was now aligned with his mouth. He refused to consider the possibilities. Then she accidentally knocked him in the teeth with her knee, a punishment he heartily deserved because he
was
thinking of all he would do if he ever got her naked with his head between her thighs.
Lord, he couldn’t help himself.
He wasn’t a eunuch, nor was he dead as mutton.
“Gabriel, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? I’m not quite as steady as I hoped to be. I’m worried about Harry. What if he falls?”
“He won’t,” Gabriel said with an authority he did not feel. Harry was so young, hardly more than a baby. How could his little hands clasp those branches?
Daisy continued to chatter.
Gabriel realized it was her way of relieving her own fears. She began to rattle on about Lady Forsythia’s book again. “So if a young lady is not permitted to express her true feelings, then how is the rake to know that she likes him? You see, Lady Forsythia’s rules really make no sense.”
He muttered something in agreement and placed his hands on Daisy’s waist to lift her higher still. She stopped talking when she reached those perilously thin branches, now busy concentrating on saving the boy.
“Harry,” she called out, her voice deceptively calm as she edged closer, “wait right there. Don’t move.”
The boy began to cry. “Too far!”
“I know. Take my hand, little muffin. Hold on to me.” Her voice trembled and Gabriel knew that she was struggling to hold back tears. He also knew that she’d never allow herself to cry until the danger had passed, until Harry was safely on the ground.
“No!” the boy wailed and scooted higher. “Too far! Too far!”
Gabriel hoisted Daisy onto his shoulders, providing a sturdier foothold than those offered by the delicate branches. Indeed, those thin upper branches were barely capable of holding Harry’s weight.
He hoped the boy wouldn’t make a sudden move.
Daisy tried once more to coax the boy down. “Hold still and look at me, Harry. I’m almost there.”
“Want to go higher!”
“It isn’t safe, muffin. Don’t move. Just look at me. Shall I sing you a song?” She reached out, but he was ever so slightly out of her grasp. “What song would you like to hear?”
“No... want Papa!”
“Your Papa had a favorite song. Take my hand and I’ll sing it for you,” she said, glancing downward and suddenly losing her footing. She let out a soft cry as she slipped off Gabriel’s shoulders.
“Daisy!” He caught her as she was about to tumble out of the tree, and with his own heart now pounding wildly, he drew her close and swallowed her in his arms. He felt the savage beat of her own heart as she clung to him. “Don’t ever do that again.”
She let out a short, tremulous laugh. “I’ll try not to.” She took several calming breaths. “I almost had him. Lift me up. I’ll get him this time.”
He glanced at Harry, saw that the boy was afraid and desperately clinging to the thin branches. “There’s no time to lose,” he said with a nod. “Be careful, Daisy.”
Her hands were cold and shaking as they clasped his. “I will. I promise.”
She balanced her weight on his shoulders when he lifted her above him, and grabbed one of the sturdier branches. Once her hold was secure, she reached out to Harry and cried out in elation when she managed to catch his hand. “I have him!”
But as she circled her arm around the boy to draw him closer, the boy began to struggle and squirm. “No! No! Want Papa!”
“Gabriel! He’s slipping! I can’t hold him!”
“Harry, stop that at once!” he commanded in a booming tone of authority that he hoped would work as well on children as it did on disciplined soldiers. To his surprise—and immense relief—Harry did as ordered.
However, unlike trained soldiers, the boy was undisciplined and his obedience would only last a moment. Fortunately, Daisy moved quickly to secure Harry in her grasp. “You’re brilliant,” she said in a whisper, handing the boy safely into his outstretched arms.
He tucked the boy in one arm and helped her onto the sturdy branch upon which he stood. “Tell me that again once we’re safely on the ground.”