Taming a Wicked Rake

by Andresen, Tammy

  He sat staring into the fire in his drawing room, sipping on a cordial of brandy. He didn’t even wish to go out. He’d tried the night before. He’d gone to his club to play cards and drink, but the crowd had only irritated him further.

  This was why he stayed away from respectable ladies. Otherwise he might be tempted into drastic measures. The daughter of a duke was not a woman to be trifled with. Were he caught compromising her—though she had started the compromising—he only had three choices, run from England, death, or marriage. He tried to decide which was the worst choice or why these hadn’t occurred to him before he’d gone and kissed her. He wouldn’t be a woman’s fool again and certainly not the fool of the Siren of London.

  But another voice in his head argued that she’d not been deceitful at all. She’d meant to kiss another man, it was him who’d tricked her. His gut niggled.

  A knock sounded at the door. “My lord.” His butler stepped into the room. “Lord Fletcher is here to see you.”

  Adam grimaced. Damn it all to hell. There was only one reason that Fletcher would be here. He needed a companion in debauchery. Adam drew in a long breath. Perhaps that was just what he needed too. “Send him up.”

  “Yes, my lord.” His butler nodded and then retreated from the room.

  A few minutes later, Fletcher arrived, his ruddy cheeks alerting Adam that the man had already consumed a great deal of alcohol. “Hello, old fellow,” Fletcher bellowed as he crossed the room to pour himself a drink. “What are you doing alone on a rainy night such as this?”

  “Rainy nights are perfect for being in,” he grumbled. He’d go off with Fletcher, but he didn’t have to like it.

  “Not this one. All of London is in a twitter and everyone who’s anyone is at the gaming hells placing bets.”

  “Bets on what?” he asked, not looking up as he took a long swig of his drink. He needed to be far more drunk for this conversation.

  “Haven’t you heard? The Siren of London has been caught kissing a man at the Everston ball on Saturday night. It was featured in the London Standard, of all places.”

  Brandy spewed from his mouth as he stared at Fletcher. His mouth hung open as he stared. Surely the man had come here to stomp on Adam’s grave. How had London found out about the kiss? Even the lady herself was not aware of his identity. “What?”

  Fletcher tossed himself into a chair. “No one knows who the gentleman who kissed her is—if he is one. But someone witnessed the event. The chit is refusing to give up the chap who stole such a delectable treat and men are lining up in droves to rescue her from ruin.”

  “Men are lining up…” Why did that make his temper flair? But he already knew. He didn’t want another man tasting those lips. Which was ridiculous. He’d not marry. But that niggle of guilt flared into a full roll. He’d left her exposed and alone. His damn masculine need to protect seemed to have been triggered when she’d pressed against him because he had the insane urge to race to her brothers and declare his intentions.

  He took another drink, swallowing it this time. She’d marry a perfectly respectable man and make him perfectly miserable. He needn’t involve himself. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Where?” Fletcher grinned, downing his drink and rising from the chair.

  “To place our bets,” Adam answered. Not that he had any intention of doing so but he suddenly needed to leave his house. He felt caged with the knowledge of what was happening outside these walls.

  “Excellent.” Fletcher grinned. “But perhaps we should attend Almack’s first. Get a feel for what everyone is saying before we wager any money.”

  Almack’s? Adam rubbed his face with his hands. Going to Almack’s might make things worse, not better. And yet…he couldn’t resist the idea if only he might run into the same trouble again.

  * * *

  Madeline sat in the carriage, butterflies dancing about her stomach. This had likely been a terrible idea.

  Not that she had many choices. She could retire from society, of course. She could choose one of the fops who’d rushed to rescue her. Each less desirable than the last. She could see Charles and find out why he’d exposed that kiss to all of London. Though, he hadn’t published any of her work or told the world of her nom de plume. But he knew who she was, which meant he had power over her.

  A man she’d never formerly met had the power to ruin her. They hadn’t changed anything about society yet and though she didn’t like it, she had no choice but to operate under its strictures, which left her in a very precarious position where Charles was concerned. She tapped the ground, her foot unable to keep still. What a fool she’d been.

  Just this morning a letter of apology had arrived. She’d sat in the garden to read it, only this time, there was no breathless anticipation, only dread.

  He claimed to love her. He’d exposed her kiss in the garden out of jealousy and now he wanted to make it right by offering her marriage. She’d rather marry Sir Henry Bixby, who had also offered. Though he was as round as he was tall and plagued with gout, he hadn’t betrayed her.

  Her mouth tightened in a bitter line. She’d rather marry Lord James Markland. He’d lost all his family fortune, but he’d overlook her blemish in reputation for the dowry she’d provide. Marrying someone who needed her would give her some leverage.

  Her stomach flopped about at the additional damage Charles could still do. She’d never signed one of her letters with her actual name. Could he prove it was her? She’d rot in the country, ruined and alone, before she married him. Let him do his worst.

  Hopefully, however, she could make a match before Charles could do any more damage. She dropped her head into her hands. Maddie had wanted a man to value her mind. She’d only opened herself up to more ridicule.

  She briefly considered finding her mystery kisser, but dismissed it. All of London knew of her predicament. Which meant he did as well. If he hadn’t come forward yet, he had no intention of rescuing her, which made him as pathetic as Charles, whoever Charles really was. And she was done chasing some fantasy. Look where it had led her.

  Harry handed her out of the carriage, his hand tightening over hers. “I’ll pummel any man who is rude.”

  She clucked her tongue. “You will not. I’ll be redeemed as soon as I’m married.” She placed her other hand over his. “You can’t get hurt protecting my reputation. Not after what I’ve done.”

  Harry snorted. “A kiss?” He started up the steps, falling in line as the crowd around them hushed. “It’s bloody ridiculous.”

  “Harry,” she hissed as several men and women openly stared. Several fans snapped open and as whispering conversations took the place of the louder ones that had been happening moments before.

  He didn’t respond as he straightened next to her, glaring at several people as the line moved. It had occurred to Maddie that they might not even admit her, but she was allowed through the doors. Both the Viscount of Abernathy and the Earl of Sunderland had been avid suitors earlier in the season. She had considered them rather dull but truthfully, she’d be happy with either one right about now. She knew the Viscount was always at Almack’s on a Tuesday and so she’d decided to attempt to persuade him to reconsider his suit.

  She found a quiet corner of the room where she might observe without being seen. The whispered scorn was growing tiresome indeed.

  Harry shifted impatiently next to her. He didn’t like the plan, but Bar had agreed it was the best they had.

  “There,” Harry finally muttered, pointing across the room. “I see him.”

  Maddie drew in a breath. She hated to leave her safe corner, but she’d come for this very reason. “I’ve no choice, do I?”

  “There’s always a choice,” Harry returned. “You don’t have to do this. We can go home and find another way.”

  Her hands fisted in her skirt. “I don’t want to sit at home and wait.” That only gave Charles more time. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

  Then she started acros
s the room.

  Chapter Five

  Adam knew something was happening, even in his inebriated state, he felt the change in the room.

  Everyone inside had grown quiet and tense. And the walls seemed to close in around him, making it hard to breathe.

  Turning, he saw her coming toward him. Hells bells, his imagination had failed him. Lady Madeline was even more beautiful than he remembered as she strode purposefully across the room. Right at him.

  She knew.

  He took another swallow of his drink. He’d expected to feel dread, fear, or even remorse. The alcohol must have dulled his common sense because all he was able to muster was anticipation. Sharp and keen, he wanted her against him again, no matter the cost.

  Bloody hell, he was in trouble.

  Lifting the front of her skirt, she picked up speed, moving across the room. No point in waiting, he decided. Fletcher was gabbing next to him like an excited hen with a new rooster. He ignored it and started toward Madeline.

  He was almost face to face with her when she stopped, staring at him in surprise. Why would she be surprised? He scrubbed at his jaw, trying to clear his brain from the fog.

  “Lord Kingsley?” she murmured, dropping into a curtsey.

  “Lady Madeline,” he replied, bowing slightly. “You look lovely this evening.”

  Her lips pursed. “Thank you.” Then she began to step around him.

  Without thought he reached out and grabbed her arm. “Wait.”

  “I beg your pardon?” She gave a little tug, trying to pull away from him. He didn’t let go. She straightened, her chin notching up. “I know of your reputation, sir. If you’ve come to make me one of your offers, you needn’t bother. I decline.”

  He gave a slow blink. Bloody hell, she didn’t know. But if she wasn’t moving toward him, where had she been going? “You know of my offers?” He quirked a brow. “Either you are not the lady you’ve been pretending—likely, considering your current predicament—or--” He didn’t have a chance to finish.

  “My brothers warned me about you.” Her chin rose another notch. “I’d never be with a man like you.”

  “Is that so, love?” he asked, leaning closer. He should leave it be. His behavior was arousing suspicion where none had been before. Everyone around them had gone silent. He didn’t look away from her, but he was sure all eyes were on them. But he didn’t want to let her go and allow her to keep walking across the room, away from him. “And what type of man would you be with?”

  Her eyes cast over her shoulder and he followed their gaze. The Viscount of Abernathy stood frozen, watching their exchange. “Him?” he asked, his lip curling. “He can’t shoot, can’t ride, and can’t drink.”

  Madeline pulled on her arm again. “He’s honorable and kind and I need to find a husband—” Then she let out a gasp. Sniffing the air, her eyes grew wide and she inhaled sharply. She looked up into his gaze. “It was you. You kissed me.”

  * * *

  Several emotions and thoughts bounced through her head making it impossible to sort a thing out. It had been a rake, the worst one she’d ever encountered, who’d given her the most delicious kisses of her life. Worse yet, she wanted to kiss him again.

  Even now, knowing he was damaging her reputation further with this exchange, she wanted to embrace him. He’d felt so strong, masculine to the touch.

  Instead, a single thought pushed through the rest and she yanked her arm from his grasp.

  “It was me,” he said as he stared down at her, his eyes dark and menacing. No, that wasn’t the correct word. Possessive. He blocked her from view, his body shielding hers.

  “Tell no one,” she whispered back and then with a swish of her skirt, she moved past him, crossing the room.

  She drew in a long breath as she glanced back; Lord Kinsley’s eyes followed her progress as he stood tall and straight. Harry stopped next to him and Maddie looked away, her nerves fluttering wildly. What would Harry say?

  Then she gave her head a little shake. She shouldn’t be thinking about Kingsley, she should be worrying over Abernathy.

  Lord Abernathy stood rooted to the spot he’d been moments ago, his pale skin looking even whiter than normal. As she approached, his eyes began searching the room, looking everywhere but at her.

  He turned to the side and for a moment, she wondered if he’d dart away before she could reach him. But he seemed to change his mind and instead, turned back to her as he straightened his jacket.

  “Good evening, my lady.” He bowed his head even as his mouth turned down.

  Her shoulders sagged a bit before she straightened them. “Good evening, my lord.” She dipped into a courtesy. “It’s a pleasure to see you here.”

  He took a half step back. “You as well.”

  She held her hands to her midsection to keep them from fluttering. “I enjoyed your visit this past week. It was good of you to come.” He’d been one of many suitors to pay her a visit during her calling hours.

  His face turned to the side. “I enjoyed it as well.”

  Irritation rippled down Maddie’s spine as Kingsley’s comment returned. He couldn’t shoot, he couldn’t ride, and apparently, he couldn’t look a woman he was about to reject in the eye. Coward. “Will I be seeing you this week?”

  Abernathy flitted his gaze up the ceiling and then to her right. “I’m not certain. I may have another engagement. I...”

  Her irritation turned to full-blown anger. He’d been full of flowery words of his undying affection not four days prior. The spineless twit. “Of course,” she answered, dipping into another curtsey. “Have a pleasant evening.”

  Then she spun away, intent upon finding Harry and leaving this place. But it wasn’t just Harry who stood behind her, but Kingsley as well.

  Heat infused her cheeks that so many had witnessed her humiliation.

  “Coward,” Kingsley growled as he stared at Abernathy.

  Abernathy sputtered behind her, but she didn’t look back. “Harry,” she started. “I find I have a terrible headache. Perhaps, it would be best if we left.”

  “Maddie,” Harry said. “We came for a reason.”

  She drew in a long breath. “I know. And I know I had you get dressed and come all this way. But—” Drat. Tears formed in her eyes, threatening to ruin her composure. She would not cry. Not here, not now. Not in front of Abernathy or Kingsley. She swallowed. “There’s nothing here for me.”

  Harry winced, but it was Kingsley who made a noise of protest. What was he even doing here? Didn’t he understand that his presence only made the situation worse?

  “Surely that isn’t true,” he said, stepping closer.

  Harry squinted his eyes at the other man. “Why are you here?”

  Maddie’s breath caught in her throat. He wasn’t just making it worse, he was about to make it infinitely worse. If he confessed to her brother… “We met the other evening, Harry.” Then she turned to Kingsley. “If you’ll excuse us.”

  He stared back at her again, it was the same long stare except this time, a muscle ticked in his cheek. Finally, he stepped back. “Of course. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  Maddie was about to sigh with relief when Harry shifted. “Why did you intrude, Kingsley?”

  If she could have, she’d have stamped her foot. She needed to get out of here. Nothing was going as it should.

  And what would he say when faced with the question?

  “I wanted to warn you,” he started, stepping closer. “The gaming halls of London have made you the topic of their latest round of bets.”

  Maddie wobbled on her feet as she clutched her brother’s arm tighter. The room spun as she tried to catch her breath. Honestly, she wondered if she might faint.

  Chapter Six

  That had been a bloody stupid thing to say to a woman in her position. Adam had panicked, pure and simple.

  Not by her brother’s question. More by the words that had risen in answer. He’d been tempted to offer for her.<
br />
  What the bloody hell was happening to him?

  But he knew. He’d gotten her into this mess. He’d known full well who he was kissing. And even twits like Abernathy were now rejecting her. Absurd. That man should fall down and kiss her slippered foot.

  A vision of doing that very thing rose into his thoughts. The blood drained from his head, settling in his loins. He imagined pushing her skirts higher and trailing his lips up her leg. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to concentrate.

  Harry was pulling Maddie toward an empty chair and Adam followed. When he was with her, he seemed unable to keep his distance. But he’d known that already. He wouldn’t have kissed her if he’d had control.

  “Stay with me,” Harry gritted out just loud enough for Adam to hear. “You’ll only make it worse if you don’t.”

  “I know that,” she huffed. “I’m fine. I was just taken aback by the news.”

  Harry threw him a nasty look, his face set in hard lines. “It was not news meant for a lady.” He squinted at Kingsley. “Someone has forgotten how to check himself in the presence of an innocent woman.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? He’d hurt her by kissing her and he was doing it again. Remorse made his chest ache. “My apologies,” he answered. “I only meant to warn you that leaving might be best. You’ll only fuel the gossips more.”

  “Is that why you stopped my sister?” Harry helped her into a chair and turned to Kingsley.

  He looked to Maddie who gave a tight nod. “Yes, exactly.”

  “But why help her?” Harry’s eyes narrowed.

  “We met the other night, of course.” Maddie reached for her brother’s hand.

  Harry shook her off and stepped closer. His voice dropped low. “Do not think that my sister is pickings for you just because her reputation has been tarnished.”

  Adam’s eyebrows went up. He supposed Harry’s assumption was better than the truth. But somehow, Harry’s desire to keep Maddie away from him made him twinge. He operated under a strict code of conduct, normally, that kept young ladies’ reputations well intact. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”