The Rake And The Wallflower

by Allison Lane

  She ignored him. “Why didn't you close the door?” she wailed as Lady Debenham and Lady Horseley glared through the opening. “You should know better than to kiss me where we might be seen."

  "Don't play the injured innocent with me, trollop,” demanded Gray. “Even that scheming Miss Turner had better manners than you. I would welcome ostracism rather than touch you."

  "My lord—” began Laura, but another voice interrupted.

  "For shame, Laura,” snapped Mary, stepping from the shadows. “Rockhurst will be appalled that you insisted on attending tonight. You know you must stay in bed on days you suffer megrims. They cause delusions that distort your judgment."

  Laura leaped up, anger stripping her face of beauty. “Get out! How dare you interfere in my affairs? Do you seriously believe you can steal Grayson for yourself?"

  Gray shook off his paralysis and stepped between the sisters. A crowd was gathering in the hallway, craning to see past the blockade formed by Ladies Horseley and Debenham. But he no longer cared what they thought. If Laura wanted a scene, he would provide it.

  "Your affairs don't include me. We have never even been introduced, for which I am eternally grateful. I despise spoiled children."

  "How dare you deny—"

  "Silence! I know all about your absurd fantasies and selfish plots. And I know this is not the first time you have stooped to dishonor. You like to pretend that every man loves you, and you actually believe your imaginary courtships. That is the mark of a madwoman."

  "Ma—"

  "Quite mad. You know even less about me than about your previous victims, for the rumors attached to my name are false. But even if every word were true, we would not suit. I would leave the country rather than tie myself to a harpy, so take your lies and vulgarities somewhere else."

  "And let you force yourself on my sister? Never!” But her voice held panic. Having guaranteed an audience, she had no place to hide.

  "You need rest, Laura,” said Mary quietly.

  "So I should just walk out and leave you together. Do you think I am that foolish?"

  "You are overset.” Mary tried to lead her to the door. “We must put you to bed and call a physician at once. He will give you a tonic to quiet your nerves. By morning this will all be a bad dream."

  But Laura was past caring. She knocked Mary down, cracking her head against a table. “You were waiting for him, weren't you? An assignation. A filthy, despicable assignation. Yet you dare criticize me."

  "We all dare,” snapped Lady Horseley, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she surged into the room. “I watched that appalling exhibition in the ballroom. Grayson is right, for once in his misbegotten life. Only a madwoman would chase a man who cuts her dead. Not that you don't deserve each other. That murdering beast should have been hanged three years ago."

  "So should you!” snapped Laura, abandoning all semblance of control. “I've never met such a poisoned-tongued nosy Parker in my life. Why anyone tolerates you is beyond comprehension."

  Mary moaned in mortification.

  "Keep your filthy tongue between your teeth,” snarled Gray, fisting both hands to keep them off her neck. “If you don't want to spend your life locked in an attic, you'd best be quiet. You know nothing about me, or Lady Horseley, or even your sister. She is more a lady than you can ever be. Now take your jealousy and bad temper somewhere else."

  Laura opened her mouth, but shut it without a word when she saw Rockhurst fighting his way through the growing crowd in the hallway.

  Gray helped Mary to her feet, drawing her against his side in protection. “Yes, Mary and I had an assignation—arranged by Lord Rockhurst when I offered for her this afternoon.” He caught the earl's eye, praying the man would cover the lie. Between gentlemen, his words constituted a vow to do right by Mary, who had sacrificed her reputation to save him from her sister's scheming. But he had no idea whether Rockhurst considered him a gentleman.

  Rockhurst nodded as Lady Debenham stepped aside to let him in. Motioning Lady Horseley back into the hallway, he glared at Laura. “I warned you I would no longer tolerate your antics. If you haven't received an offer, it is because few gentlemen wish to wed a spiteful child. Now enough of your tantrums. It is time you retired."

  "But why would you allow a man of his reputation to address her?” Laura demanded.

  "Why did you throw yourself at me?” growled Gray, low enough that the watchers could not hear. “Have you run out of bed partners?"

  Laura blanched.

  Rockhurst gripped Laura by the arm. “You of all people should know that gossip often lies.” His eyes held Lady Horseley's before he turned to Gray. “My apologies for not controlling her, Grayson. I was across the room when she left, but I should have expected her to turn this into a farce. She has never accepted other people's fortune gracefully, particularly Mary's.” Without waiting for a reply, he twisted Laura's arm behind her and propelled her toward the door. “You successfully hid your other compromise attempts, Laura, and few suspect your penchant for starting scurrilous stories about your rivals. But this escapade will be impossible to hide. You are ruined, and entirely through your own efforts."

  The door closed firmly behind them.

  Gray stared, trying to understand what had just happened. “Did he just declare me innocent?” he asked aloud. Rockhurst knew him only by sight, being several years older and from a different school.

  "He had to do something to atone for Laura's disgrace. But he has long decried injustice and worked to right old wrongs, so you need only explain matters to win his support.” She pulled out of his grasp and walked to the fireplace.

  "Are you cold?” he asked, shaken. Her face was stark white.

  "A little. Laura's tantrums usually have that effect. Why did I not stay in the ballroom?"

  He flinched to see tears on her lashes. “I am very glad you were here, my dear, though I should apologize for bursting in without warning. I did not know the room was occupied."

  "You don't understand.” She moved restlessly to draw the drapes, then shove her sketchpad into her reticule. “I knew she was in a fey humor tonight. I seemed to be making her worse, so I left. But had I been there, I could have kept her from following you."

  "I doubt it. She abandoned Ingram in the middle of a set. What put her in a fey humor?"

  Mary returned to the fire. “Your flowers, to start with. I love them, by the way. Thank you. But Laura has never received anything half so exotic."

  "So she turned on you?"

  She shrugged.

  "Is that why she accosted me tonight?"

  "No. She doesn't know who sent them.” Her gaze settled on her hands. “But because they put her in a temper, she spoke without thinking and infuriated Lady Marchgate, who then complained to Blake. He read her the riot act and threatened to send her home—a mistake he doesn't usually make, but he was also in a temper because Lady Marchgate's complaint reached him at his club. So Laura's composure was ruffled even before half her court abandoned her."

  "Rumors claim she abused you in public.” His fists again clenched.

  "It wasn't quite that bad. Merely a few unkind words, but the drawing room was crowded, and Lady Marchgate did not hide her disgust. Nor did Lady Horseley.” She hugged herself. “Drat her! I warned her that diamonds fall farther and faster than the rest of us, but she thinks herself invulnerable. So she never watches her tongue. Several people alluded to the incident this evening, and not kindly, so I suspect it has already been exaggerated. Two of her former admirers asked me to dance. That's when I left. I'll not be used to punish her. Since she refuses to believe that most men flirt because it is fashionable, she always blames me for any defections."

  "Hence her tantrum when she realized you were here before we arrived. Thank God you were. I would much rather wed you than accept blame for ruining another hoyden."

  He would do his best to make her happy. It was his fault she was in this pickle. If he'd paid attention, he'd have known
the room was in use. Laura's reputation had been suspect even before this incident, so he could probably have repudiated her without hurting himself, even with Lady Horseley in the audience. But Mary was another matter. He could not embroil her in another scandal. All he could do was fulfill enough of her dreams that she might someday forgive him for tying her to a man she did not love.

  Mary silently paced the room as his words echoed hollowly in her head. It was clear she was the lesser of two very great evils. Grayson was honorable enough to protect her and make the best of the bargain. And she had no choice but to agree.

  Guilt engulfed her when she identified her lightheadedness as joy. He was a wonderful man—kind, sensitive, and eminently capable. But marrying her would be a disaster, not a blessing. He deserved so much better. If she really cared, she would find a way to free him.

  But she couldn't think. Everything had happened too fast. Her attempt to smooth over the situation had failed. In retrospect, it had been too late to blame this on a fit of megrims. Too many people had witnessed Laura's dishonor, and it seemed she had already made a cake of herself in the ballroom. How could the girl have been so stupid?

  But she could address that later. Now she must help Grayson. She was the worst possible wife for him. Besides being a laughingstock on her own account, he could never look at her without recalling Laura's perfidy. And marrying her would make Laura a permanent part of his life. Having destroyed herself so thoroughly, Laura would always be around, if not at Rockburn, then at Seabrook.

  "Is there no choice?” she asked, then cursed her trembling voice.

  "No, my dear. These are not the circumstances you deserve, but we should deal quite well together."

  "But you c-cannot want a wife who draws scowls wherever she goes,” she stammered. “I have no g-graces and am not an accomplished hostess."

  "Enough, Mary.” He caught her hands in his. “That is your sister speaking. She has criticized you from the moment she first looked into a mirror. No, don't contradict me,” he added, covering her mouth with a gentle finger. “She probably knew from childhood that you embodied all the virtues she lacked. I've yet to meet a beauty who could tolerate competition, and she is too selfish to have hidden her anger. Her criticism prevented you from trying, forcing you to hover on the fringes of life instead of embracing it. But you can manage anything you choose. If you wish to be a hostess, then learn. Or ignore society completely if you prefer. What matters to me is your kindness, your sense, your intelligence, and the way you've believed in me from the moment we met. We are already friends, are we not?"

  She nodded. And she knew he was right—there came that spurt of joy again. If he and Laura had entered the room together, things might have been different. But at least two ladies knew Laura had found them alone. And one of those was Lady Horseley, who had pilloried Grayson for years. Refusing his offer would convince society that she thought him venal. Or perhaps they would assume he had made no offer. Either way, his reputation would be sunk without a trace. He would never again be welcomed in polite circles.

  "Very well, my lord. I will endeavor to make you an acceptable wife, though God knows how. I have never been comfortable in society and don't see that changing. Particularly after this."

  "Forgive me, Mary—I may call you that?"

  She nodded.

  "And you must call me Gray. I know you hoped to wed for love and that taking on a tarnished viscount is far from what you had in mind, but I will try to make you happy."

  "I understand. And at least we begin as friends. That is more than many couples have.” She shivered.

  He pulled her against him, but gently, soothing her as he had soothed that frightened dog. His hand stroked slowly down her spine, cradling her against him.

  She stood quietly, allowing only one arm to creep around his waist, though she longed to squeeze closer. She was so cold. But embracing him would remind him of Laura and of how helplessly trapped he was. It would also recall memories of Miss Irwin and Miss Turner, whose pursuit had hurt him so badly. He might even think she had somehow forced him into this betrothal.

  But restraining herself was difficult. His warmth beckoned, as did his hard body. Too many nights she had awakened from dreams of him, tingling from head to toe. Now her heart soared, forcing an admission that she had wanted him from the beginning—another secret she could never reveal. Gray had suffered too much. She could not become another hoyden expecting him to make her dreams come true.

  "I will see that you are happy,” he repeated, tilting her head so he could see her eyes.

  She smiled. “And I will do likewise."

  "We are agreed, then.” He lowered his head to seal their bargain.

  Mary had never been kissed, not even by a relative. The electricity sizzling from his lips surprised her so much that she gasped, opening her mouth. He deepened the assault, tasting her thoroughly.

  Heat exploded, melting her knees until she had to cling to keep from falling. If she had known what kisses were like, she might have sympathized more with Laura. Or was this reaction unusual? Perhaps Gray's rakish experiences had taught him how to produce effects unknown to others. Certainly the conversations she had overheard about marriage duties had never mentioned this.

  She moaned as he pulled her against him, scrambling her wits until she could barely think. His hands cupped her bottom to lift her closer yet. She hardly realized that he'd moved until he collapsed on a couch with her in his lap.

  "Your skin is so soft,” he murmured huskily, trailing kisses along her jaw until he reached her ear. Drawing the lobe into his mouth, he nipped it.

  "Mmmm.” She touched his cheek, surprised to find rough nubs sprinkled along the jawline. Hairs. Yet the hair on his head was as soft as hers, so why did this feel coarse? She slid her hand back and forth to test the different textures, but was distracted when the tip of her breast brushed his arm, exploding into more new sensations. She moaned again, then froze.

  Dear Lord! She was no better than Laura, flinging herself at a near stranger as wantonly as if she yearned to consummate their union here and now. How could he feel anything but disgust for her after this?

  This was not the time or place for lovemaking. There had been enough scandal for one night. Courting more could ruin them both.

  "We had best return to the ballroom, Gray,” she said, surprised that her voice was husky. “Not that I object to your kisses—they are quite remarkable. But people will be watching for us."

  He sighed. “You are right, as usual. Very well, my dear. We must do our duty.” He frowned. “Is your sister likely to be there?"

  "No. Blake will send her home. He was furious enough that he might send her back to Seabrook. That was one of his threats this afternoon."

  "He would be better off keeping her here where she can suffer the consequences of her actions. She might learn more."

  "And embarrass us all."

  "She can no longer harm us, Mary. Any attempt to retaliate will redound on her. By morning, there won't be a soul in London who believes a word she says. Rockhurst's support will prevent anyone from blaming us. But we can discuss that later. There is one more piece of business before we face the world.” His arm tightened.

  "What is that?” Her hand slid beneath his coat, stroking his shoulder. As his manhood twitched, she stilled.

  "No need to stop,” he said, kissing her lightly on the nose. “I enjoy your touch. But we must set a wedding date."

  "That is hardly usual this early in a betrothal."

  "Rockhurst cloaked us in propriety, but there is no denying this situation is irregular. We needn't wed instantly, but I would like to do so before the Season ends. Unfortunately, I have no town house. Albany does not permit ladies, and I have no wish to share a roof with your sister, even for a week, so we will have to live at Shellcroft in the beginning. But I've business matters to conclude first, and we need time to quell any gossip. Three weeks should suffice."

  "That sounds perfect.” Sh
e had feared he would suggest waiting until summer. She didn't want to share a roof with Laura, either. After tonight's fiasco, she never wanted to see Laura again. But she could tolerate three more weeks. And an early wedding should prevent speculation that he meant to cry off once the Season ended.

  "To the future,” he murmured, kissing her again.

  * * * *

  Only snatches of the ball remained in Mary's mind afterward. The moment she and Gray appeared at the top of the stairs, the music ceased, drawing every eye to the door. A hush settled over the room, broken only by Lord Harding's querulous voice demanding to know what was happening.

  Blake was waiting in the doorway, having sent Laura home with a footman. When Gray nodded, he made the announcement. Catherine rushed to Mary's side, the concern in her eyes belying her smile.

  "Wonderful news, Mary. I am so happy for you. And you are perfect for each other, as I noted the first time I saw you together.” Leaning close to kiss her cheek, she murmured, “Are you all right?"

  "Perfectly,” Mary answered. Aloud she said, “I could not be happier. Lord Grayson shares so many of my interests. It was a dream come true to learn he returned my affections.” It seemed best to claim a love match. Nothing else would explain their story.

  Half an hour later, she was ready to collapse. People she barely knew crowded around to offer felicitations. Some seemed sincere, but too many voices held pity or disbelief. Gray would need more than Blake's support to overcome so many years of distrust. She longed to escape, yet when relief arrived, it made her even more nervous.

  "You make a lovely couple,” said Lady Jersey, smiling. “And as long as she avoids cream cakes, she will do you proud, Grayson. Partner her. This set is perfect for a betrothal dance."

  "Thank you, my lady,” murmured Mary as the musicians began a waltz. But inside she cringed. This would be the last straw for Laura's temper. She would never be granted permission to waltz now.

  "I've had very little practice on this step,” she warned Gray as he swung her into the first turn.