How to Romance a Rake

by Manda Collins

Thank you, God!

  To Alec’s credit, he did not laugh at her question. Of course, it was mostly due to his vast relief, but that was beside the point.

  “It is quite normal,” he assured her.

  “In fact, daylight can be a bonus since it…” Realizing that it was probably best not to elaborate on just how much visual stimulation affected the male of the species, lest he frighten her away, he coughed. “It’s perfectly normal,” he repeated.

  At her nod, he decided it was probably best to stop while he was ahead.

  “Why don’t you go upstairs and have a bath and rest a bit while I go see to the horses?”

  Juliet’s relief was evident as she nodded.

  They walked in silence up the stairs as Alec escorted her to their rooms. At the door, she turned to face him.

  “Thank you,” she said, her expression grave. “For everything.”

  He did her the courtesy of not misunderstanding her words. By marrying her, he’d saved her from an almost certain life of misery tied to Turlington.

  “The pleasure is mine, Lady Deveril,” he said sincerely. “Always.”

  With a short nod, she turned and entered their rooms, her walking stick making a faint tattoo as she went.

  * * *

  Because she’d been unable to bring her maid with her, Juliet had to have one of the maids on staff at the inn assist her with her gown. But, mindful of keeping her foot a secret, she dismissed the girl as soon as her gown was unbuttoned, and asked for a bath to be brought to their room so that she might soak away the aches their journey had caused her.

  “You can go back down, Weston,” she told the maid once the steaming water had been emptied into the hip bath. “I can see to myself from here.”

  Once the door closed behind the maid, Juliet felt the anxiety and stress of the past several days descend upon her like a blanket of chain mail.

  Preparing for her bath, she removed her gown, and sat in her chemise and stockings upon the small chair she’d asked the maid to bring her. Bending forward, she unlaced her left boot and removed it. Then moving to her left she unlaced the corset that held the upper portion of her prosthetic lower leg and foot in place and removed the device, lowering it to the ground on its side. Breathing a sigh of relief at being able to rub some feeling back into the stump of her calf, she removed her garter and stocking from her left leg, and finally slipped out of her chemise. Bracing one hand on the chair, and one on the rim of the tub, she transferred her weight from the chair to the tub’s side, and lowered herself into the steaming water, fragrant with lavender oil.

  Alone and relaxed for the first time in two days, Juliet had thought she’d be more traumatized by the scenes with her mother and Turlington, but instead of dwelling on her mother’s betrayal, her mind instead kept returning to the scene here in this inn, with Alec.

  Dipping the sponge into the water, she lathered it with a bar of lavender soap that Cecily had insisted she pack in her suitcase of borrowed clothing, and washed the dirt of the road from her body. Slowly, she moved the sponge over the soft skin of her arms, wondering what it would feel like if Alec’s hands were sliding over her. The thought made her heartbeat quicken.

  That kiss downstairs had been nothing like she’d imagined embraces between married people to be. It had been wild, and raw, and unsettling. It was hard to imagine elegant, urbane Alec behaving in such a manner. But when he’d pressed her against the door, and brought her hand down to feel the evidence of his desire for her, she’d known instinctively that this man, the one who was not afraid to show how desperate he was to have her, was the real one. The sophisticate who set the fashion and entertained the ton with his wit, she now knew, was a façade. How ironic, that the two people who did their utmost to hide themselves from the ton were now married to each other.

  As she worked her way down her body with the sponge, she wondered what he would say when he discovered her secret. A part of her had felt guilt at not informing him of her deformity as soon as he’d proposed. He had a right to know that his wife was more crippled than he had guessed. And yet, now that her goal of escaping from her mother had been accomplished, she knew that she could not have risked his rejection.

  No, she knew she’d done the right thing in not telling him. But as the moment when she would reveal her secret drew near, she could not help the shudder that ran through her at the thought of how angry he would be. She’d convinced him to buy a pig in a poke. And though she might think the ends had justified the means, that did not mean that she relished his anger. In the weeks she’d come to know him, one of the things she’d most appreciated about his personality was his innate sense of fairness. She could only hope that that quality would prevent him from abandoning her.

  Leaning back in the tub, she lifted both her legs to rest the backs of her calves on the edge of the tub. Critically, she looked at her right foot, as ordinary and serviceable as anyone else’s. Then she turned her gaze to the empty space where her left foot used to be. Leaning forward, she touched the rounded end of her calf. Once upon a time such a light touch would have brought excruciating pain, but she had worked to desensitize the skin there, to ensure that she’d be able to wear the wooden foot her mother had insisted upon.

  “Does it still pain you?” Alec asked.

  Juliet gave a little cry of surprise and brought her legs back into the tub with a splash.

  “I … I didn’t hear you come in, my lord.” She was mortified that he’d learned of her secret this way. And that he’d seen her ugly stump before she’d been able to prepare him for the sight of it.

  “I didn’t mean for you to,” was his calm response as he moved farther into the dressing room. “I was sitting down in the taproom wondering just how much time to give you when it occurred to me that you were likely up here worrying about how to reveal your secret to me.”

  Hugging her knees to her chest, Juliet could not respond. Of course he was right, but that did nothing to assuage her distress at having him learn the true extent of her injury in such a manner. Not to mention the fact that she was stark naked.

  “I apologize for interrupting your bath, but you cannot stay in there forever,” he said, sitting on the chair she’d used earlier to get into the bath.

  “I wasn’t planning to,” she said, disliking the defensive tone in her voice.

  The little dressing room seemed even smaller with him in it. Sneaking a look at him, she saw that he was in his shirtsleeves, and had removed his cravat and boots. His attire was so much an element of his personality; it was odd to see him thus, as if she were seeing a medieval knight without his armor.

  “It’s been over an hour,” he said with a raised brow. “Too much longer and you’d be as wrinkled as Prinny’s neck cloth after a debauch.”

  Juliet gazed down at her knees. The water had grown cold, and his nearness sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.

  “How much did you see?” she asked finally. She’d need to know before she could begin to explain just why she hadn’t told him.

  “Enough,” was his maddening reply. What did that even mean? Enough that he knew he did not want to consummate the marriage? Enough to know he was disgusted by her? Though, a little voice in her head informed her, that look in his eyes was not one of disgust. Nor was it the other emotion she’d dreaded from him: pity.

  “So,” she said, not daring to look him in the eye just yet, “you know my secret now. I won’t blame you if you wish to wait to consummate the marriage. It is reasonable for you to feel some diffidence now that you’ve seen the extent of my infirmity. I apologize for deceiving you, of course, but I could not stay with my parents. And…”

  And she had wanted him. It was as simple as that.

  She only hoped he would leave quickly so that she’d be able to weep in private.

  “Juliet,” he said firmly. “Juliet, look at me.”

  Gently, he took her chin in his hand and turned her so that she f
aced him.

  “I already knew,” Alec said, his blue eyes intense, so compelling she could not look away. “I’ve known since the first dance lesson.”

  Thirteen

  Alec fought to keep from gathering her up, dripping from the bath, and kissing her senseless. If only to prove to her that her injury had changed nothing between them.

  He told the truth. He had known since the dance lesson. His great-aunt Augusta had walked on a peg leg, and once he actually began to watch the way that Juliet walked he’d seen the similarities in their gaits. It had explained much about her. Why she kept herself at such a distance from the rest of the ton, why she made such an effort to stay on the fringes of society. She, and more likely her mother, did not wish for anyone to know she suffered from a deformity more usually afflicting war heroes and factory workers. His great-aunt Augusta had certainly remained sequestered in the country after her own injury as a girl.

  “There is no question of not consummating the marriage,” he said firmly. “If we do not, then there is a chance that your mother will protest the marriage. And our flight to Gretna will have been in vain.”

  And I want you, he said silently, trying and failing not to notice the curve of her breasts as they pressed against her knees.

  As if hearing a death sentence, Juliet nodded. “If you’ll just give me a moment,” she said, “I’ll dry off and ready myself for bed.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Alec said, leaning down and lifting her by the arms.

  “What? What are you doing?” Juliet stammered, resisting his grasp. “I cannot simply stand up, my lord.”

  “Alec,” he said with a frown, “and you aren’t going to stand up.”

  Before she could protest further, he scooped her up beneath her knees and lifted her bodily from the tub. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub.

  “But you’re getting all wet,” she said, brows furrowed, as he sat with her in the chair beside the tub.

  Taking the towel the maid had left for her, he unfolded it and wrapped it around her dripping body.

  “There,” he said, gathering her against him once more and rising to carry her through the connecting door into the bedroom. “Better?”

  She sighed. “Well, you’re still wet.” But he could tell she was no longer worried about the dampness of his clothing.

  The fire burned brightly in the hearth, and the room was warm and cozy, but that did not compare to the heat Alec felt at the press of Juliet’s curves against him.

  “You worry too much,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers as he stopped next to the bed and gently lowered her onto the cool white sheets.

  Stepping back, he drank in the sight of her as she tried and failed to keep the towel tight around her body. When she scrambled to hide beneath the covers, he stopped her with a word.

  “Don’t,” he said, surprised at the note of supplication in his voice. “I want to see you, Juliet. All of you.”

  At that, she frowned, but removed her foot, and the remnant of her right leg from beneath the sheet, then slowly unwrapped the towel and dropped it to the floor. Her chin lifted a fraction, as if she were daring him to reject her.

  Her mother had much to answer for, Alec thought, lowering himself to sit on the bed beside her. Leaning forward, he gathered her upper body in his arms and covered her mouth with his. At first she resisted the intrusion, but after he gently nipped her lower lip between his teeth, she opened to him. Slowly, carefully, he stroked his tongue into her mouth, feeling her relax against him. He’d meant this to be a careful seduction, but as soon as Juliet began to return the kiss, to slide her tongue tentatively against his, he was lost.

  The heat between them surprised him. He had known there was attraction between them of course. He would not have dared the marriage otherwise. But he’d underestimated the effect her untutored caress would have on him.

  Her mouth was hot against his, and wet, the sensation sending a jolt through his body, all of the blood in his head rushing downward. Through the linen of his shirt, he felt her breasts harden against him. With a curse, he slipped a hand down to cup her, sliding his thumb over the pebbled peak of her nipple. Pulling back from her mouth, he slipped his mouth down, nipping her lower lip, and kissing down over her chin to her neck.

  Juliet’s hands clenched reflexively over his shoulders, as he moved his mouth over her skin. With a murmur of pleasure, she slipped her hands up into the hair at the nape of his neck.

  “So sweet,” he murmured against the soft skin of her shoulder, kissing a path toward the soft flesh he’d been kneading with his fingers. At the scrape of his teeth upon the sensitive skin of her nipple, she let out a moan and pulled him closer to her. “Easy,” he whispered against her, soothing her with his voice. “Just feel me.”

  Moving his mouth to her other breast, he slid his right hand down over the soft skin of her belly and into the reddish curls at her center. She was still wet from the bath, but when he dipped his finger against her soft folds he found what he was looking for.

  “You see?” he asked, sliding up her body, kissing his way back up to her ear even as he kept his hand between her thighs. “You’re ready for me,” he whispered, taking her ear between his teeth. “Your body is preparing for me to make you mine.”

  As he slid his index finger into her, Juliet arched into him. “Alec,” she whispered.

  “That’s right,” he said, adding another finger to the first, reveling in the way her body clenched against him. “Alec. I’m the one who is giving you this pleasure. I’m the one whose name will be on your lips again and again.”

  He stroked in and out, bringing another moan from her. “You’re mine, Juliet,” he told her, his voice hoarse with emotion as she raised her hips to meet his hand. “Mine. And I want you, Juliet,” he said harshly, pressing harder and faster into her. “Never doubt it. I want all of you. Every inch of flesh, every luscious curve, every scar, every blemish. All of you is mine.”

  She worked her hips against him, and at his words, she went over the edge, crying out as she spasmed uncontrollably around his fingers.

  * * *

  Juliet was still recovering her breath in the aftermath of her release when she felt Alec slip back into the bed. She’d heard him hastily removing his clothes, but had been too overcome with weariness to watch. Next time, she told herself.

  When she felt him kiss her, she opened her eyes to find him watching her.

  “Thank you,” she said, against his mouth.

  “For what?”

  “For not running as fast as you could back to London?” She smiled crookedly, though the sentiment was deadly serious. She’d known he wouldn’t run, of course, but there were few men who would have reacted to the news that they’d married an aberration with equanimity.

  His expression darkened. “There was never any question of me running,” he told her, his blue eyes serious. “I told you before. I already knew before we were wed about your secret. And I have no regrets.”

  “Even so…” She looked away from his intense gaze. “You were kind to marry me despite the—”

  He dipped his head so that she had no choice but to look into his eyes.

  “For the last time, kindness had nothing to do with it. Did I want you removed from your parents’ household? Absolutely. But I married you…”—he caressed her jaw—“because I wanted you. And if I have to prove that to you by fucking you senseless every day for the rest of our lives I will do it.”

  At the crudity, she blushed, but did not break his gaze. “How would that work, exactly?” she asked wryly. “Would we have a set time every day? Like the dinner hour, only we’d call it the f—”

  He stopped her words with his mouth and, setting Juliet’s senses afire, rolled on top of her.

  “Nothing so regimented,” he said, bracing his arms over her and sliding his body against hers so that she shuddered at the feeling of skin sliding upon skin. “We’ll do it whenever we please. In every room of th
e house.”

  “Even the butler’s pantry?” she asked, her breath short as she felt the press of his erection against her stomach.

  “Especially,” Alec said, widening her legs so that he could rest his hips between them, “especially the butler’s pantry.”

  Juliet felt a bubble of laughter rise in her chest at the absurdity. Unable to keep it in, she laughed.

  “Wench,” Alec said with mock severity. “It is wretched bad form to giggle while I’m making love to you.”

  “I am sorry,” she said even as she laughed. “I cannot help it. These whole few days have been so dreadful at times, but now, here with you, I’m just so h—”

  She stopped, just in time to keep herself from blurting out the truth. That being here with him, in the circle of his arms, made her …

  “Happy?” he asked softly, against her ear. Juliet was grateful that he wasn’t looking into her eyes. Because just as quickly as the laughter had come upon her, now she felt the odd urge to weep.

  But her relief was short-lived. Nuzzling over her face, he kissed her on the end of her nose.

  “Juliet,” he said, curving a hand over her hip, “I want to make you happy. There’s no shame in feeling it.”

  His face was serious now, deadly serious, as he guided himself to her center. She should have felt embarrassed, but she could not look away from him.

  “This may hurt a bit,” he said, pressing forward into her wetness.

  “I don’t care,” she whispered, opening her legs wider and allowing him to move forward in the process. And it was true. She welcomed whatever feelings this man, her husband, could give her.

  They were both silent as he pushed relentlessly forward, breaching the barrier of her virginity that had marked her as untouched.

  It was not pain per se. She felt instead a sharp tug and a bit of a sting. Then it was simply the foreignness of being filled beyond her capacity. She did not feel the same kind of urgency as before when he’d worked her with his fingers, but if he could be persuaded to do that before actually joining with her every time, she would not be opposed to doing this once a day.