The Kiss of a Rogue

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Once upon a time, Adam had been the model of ducal propriety. He honestly had no idea where he had gone so terribly wrong, but it was clear that somewhere along the way, he had lost his touch and now tended to blunder about like a crass idiot rather than the proper duke that he was.

  For a moment, he even wondered why he was still at Fairhaven at all. If he was thinking logically, he should simply pack his bags and leave, then tend to personal matters when he was a bit more clear-headed. After all, he had already revoked Sophia's permission to wed Selby, and while that topic still bore some intense discussion, now was not the time to address the whys of the matter. Especially not when Sophia was likely to attempt to take his head off if he broached the subject with her. And when Adam would likely allow her to try out of guilt if nothing else.

  Except that Adam didn't want to leave Fairhaven, at least not yet. For where would he go? Back to London? The Season was all but over and no one there much wanted to see him anyway. To one of his estates? He was in no mood to deal with the myriad of questions that his land stewards would pepper him with day in and day out from the moment he arrived. To the Continent? That would be all but admitting he had made a mistake - or in his case, several of them - over the last year or so.

  No, what he really needed to do was to work on repairing his tattered reputation. He knew that in time, it would naturally repair itself, of course. After all, he was a duke and no one cut a duke, at least not for very long. But Adam found that he did not want to wait until next season to earn back the regard of his fellow peers. He wished to do so now, or to at least make a start on things. The only way to do that was to remain at the one place he was welcomed - at the Duke of Enwright's estate.

  So for the moment, Fairhaven was, Adam supposed, the best possible place for him to be. Provided he wasn't being chased through the halls like a piece of prized meat up for grabs on the Marriage Mart, of course, as most of the eligible men here were. If he was in no condition to make sense of his own, more private affairs, he was certainly in no condition to think about taking a wife. Adam was not quite that stupid or otherwise brain addled just yet. Despite the lump on his head, which still ached quite a bit.

  Adam also still had to plan for how he would approach Sophia regarding the topic of her beloved Lord Selby if he was ever going to have any sort of relationship with his sister again. He simply didn't know how to go about such a thing, so he had, instead, been avoiding her most of the day. But he had, of course, been aware of what she was up to and whom she was with. He was not so foolish as to allow her to do something so unwise as to disappear with Lord Selby, who would probably try to temp her to run away with him to Gretna Green or some other nonsense.

  No, Adam had known precisely where Sophia was and whom she was with all day.

  Since his sister was a social creature, she had joined her friends for some of the games that had been held on the lawn for the better part of the day. In fact, after he had returned from his clandestine meeting with Miss Northrup in the orangery, Adam had been the one to suggest to his mother that Sophia might benefit from some physical activity. Among other things, Sophia played a rather wicked game of bowls and he knew that she was anticipating beating the other young women in attendance.

  She was also less likely to wish to sneak off with Selby if she was otherwise occupied.

  His sister was not normally a competitive woman by nature, but there was something about the game that seemed to bring out the worst - or possibly best, depending on how one looked at the situation - in her.

  Normally, Adam enjoyed watching Sophia utterly destroy the other young ladies at the game. It was one of the few times that she showed her true spirit and was not merely the delicate and fragile flower his mother had unknowingly created with her rules and demands. However, given their disagreement the night before, Adam knew he would not be welcomed at the match, not even in the gallery of spectators that would likely be gathered on the lawn.

  So, out of deference to his sister, he had stayed away from the main lawn. It was a decision that had pained him for more than one reason. Not just because of Sophia, but also because he had heard Miss Northrup mention to Lady Charlotte that she would be participating in the game as well. And even though Adam knew he should not wish to watch her play - especially not with their fragile friendship hanging in the balance - he found that he had been utterly curious about the decidedly off-kilter Miss Abigail Northrup. And how she would react to someone like Sophia.

  In fact, such a temptation was too much for a weak man like him.

  Which was why Adam had sought out one of the oldest rooms at Fairhaven, one that had been part of the original Norman-era stronghold that the manor house had been built around. Particularly since it offered an unobstructed view of the lawn below. And the game of bowls that had raged for the better part of the afternoon.

  For some reason as he watched them play, Adam was not surprised that Lady Lucy Enwright's female friends and associates were a bit on the cutthroat side. Especially for supposedly otherwise delicate females. After all, the duchess herself was made of very stern stuff, so it didn't completely surprise him that her friends were much the same way.

  For some reason, he had thought that the game would tire the ladies out and that when the evening arrived, most of them would be barely able to stay awake through the soup course. In fact, he had been counting on it, as he hoped to take a moment alone with his sister and see if she would at least consent to speak to him for a few minutes. Much to his amazement, that was not the case - on any count.

  If anything, the chits were even more animated than they had been the night before, with all of them participating in a rousing discussion of whether or not Miss Northrup had played fairly when she soundly trounced Sophia - which had come as something of a surprise to everyone. Including Adam himself. However, that also meant that when it was time for the parlor games portion of the evening, most of the young ladies were still rather excited and chatty. And anxious to corner an unwed duke, no matter how sullied his reputation.

  Except for the lovely and delightful Miss Northrup, who had made it a point to avoid him all evening. Then again, as Adam was avoiding her, or at least trying to, that was just as should be expected. Except that he was rather disappointed that he hadn't been able to speak with her - or his sister - and it had put him in something of a foul mood. So when a few of the more daring young ladies began to show an interest in him as their partner for the evening's games, he had known that it was time to make himself scarce.

  Somehow, Adam had managed to slip away from the party unnoticed during a particularly spirited discussion between Lady Josephine Wilkins and Lady Florentina Abbott, both daughters of the peerage who had come in a very distant fifth and sixth respectively during that afternoon's competition. They could not seem to agree upon which of them had the best form while engaging in bowls and a third woman, a Miss Joanna Collins, herself the granddaughter of a viscount, had made the suggestion that perhaps they should seek out the opinion of the unmarried men who had watched the match to get their opinions.

  Adam had taken that as his cue to leave, for even though he had not been present during the competition, he was an unmarried duke and he knew his presence - or lack thereof - likely wouldn't matter, especially with this particular group of women. It was well known that all of them were on frenzied husband hunts and he had no illusions that, despite his somewhat sullied reputation, he would still be considered a prized catch for one of them.

  So he had scooted off through the house in search of some solitude. And some place to hide.

  This close to the summer solstice, the sun was still illuminating at least part of the sky rather late in the evening. For a moment Adam wished he was back at Willowby Hill, his country estate, where he could sit in his study and watch the sun set across the lake. Such a sight never failed to calm him and he longed for it now so very fiercely.

  There, he could simply be who he was - a man entirely unsuitable at the mom
ent to be a duke. A man who longed for peace and quiet but was often forced to play the cad about town. A man who had somehow lost his way in Society and had yet to find it again. A man who seemed to make an absolute muck of everything he touched as of late - and he had no bloody idea why that was the case. Other than the fact that he might truly be an idiot of course, though he would have hoped that if that was reason, he would have figured it out long before now.

  His growing disgust with himself was also part of the reason Adam longed for the silence and solitude of Willowby Hill. There, he could lick his proverbial wounds in peace without being disturbed by husband-hungry young ladies.

  At his home, no one would fault him for being an idiot and throwing over Lady Diana Saintwood all because he had panicked at the idea of an arranged marriage he did not want and never had. At Willowby Hill, he could simply sit and think and not have to be social or say the correct thing to a young lady he rather wished he would never have to see again. Then again, if he was at his own home, there would still be a thousand demands on his time, and he likely wouldn't be able to decide much of anything.

  He also wouldn't be able to keep an eye on Sophia. Or on Miss Northrup, who, despite his vow earlier in the day to stop mooning over her and leave her alone, was still taking up large amounts of his thoughts.

  Adam knew he should really stop thinking about his goddess from the garden. She was not for him, and not just because she was a miss and he was a duke. Or because she had all but decided to withdraw from Society while he never could. Or that she had stated to him several times that she had no desire for a husband. Rather it was because she was a far better human being than he could ever hope to be. She was not confused about who she was. In fact, she seemed to know that rather clearly, and in that respect, she was far ahead of him.

  And perhaps he could have stopped thinking of her. If only he hadn't kissed her that morning in the garden like some besotted fool who was half out of his mind. And if only he hadn't wanted so badly to kiss her again to see if that first kiss was as perfect as he now believed it to be. Because that kiss had awakened something within him, something he could not define but that made him feel itchy and restless, as if he was wearing a pair of woolen trousers that were two sizes too tight.

  That kiss had awakened something that likely made him an idiot. Even more so than he already was.

  So perhaps it was best for him to stay precisely where he was and try to sort out the muddled mess that was his life. To take back control and be the gentleman he had been raised to be. This was not like him. He was not this indecisive fool who could not manage his own affairs or make decisions. And once more, Adam wondered how hard he had hit his head when he had leapt into the garden after his rare showing of manly force where Selby was concerned. A part of him wondered as well if, after the events of the last few months, he would ever regain his balance and be the man he once was.

  Because this was not at all like him and he wondered yet again, where he had gone so wrong. He was a duke. He was strong and decisive and in control of himself and those around him. Or he had been once. He did not blunder this badly. Except apparently, he did. He simply didn't know why.

  However he would not find those answers tonight and especially not as the clamor of female voices drew closer. Now it was time to disappear again, lest he be caught out with one of the unmarried chits and was forced to wed her. He could not imagine a worse punishment.

  Well, unless it was his goddess, Miss Northrup. With her, he might have a change of heart, especially since he found her utterly delectable. Yes, he was fairly certain about that much at least. And again he wondered if he was truly a candidate for Bedlam.

  Adam was about to peek his head out into the hallway and see if he might scurry off to his suite of rooms in relative peace when he saw Rayne streak by the partially open doorway. The man must have possessed a sixth sense, for immediately after passing the door, he backtracked and scooted inside.

  "Get a move on, man!" Rayne whispered hurriedly. "Unless, of course, you wish for one of them to catch you!"

  For a moment, Adam considered asking the earl what the emergency was. Then he heard the slap-slap of dancing slippers on highly polished floors and he knew. They were about to be cornered by a pack of marriage minded young ladies, likely some of the ones he had been attempting to avoid earlier. That was a headache he did not need.

  As quietly as possible, he and Rayne closed the door and then both men leaned against it so it could not be opened. A few seconds later, Adam felt the tug of a decidedly feminine hand at the door, but thankfully due to their combined weight, the door would not budge. It appeared for all the world as if the room the two men were hiding in was locked up tight.

  "I am certain I saw him go through this door." Adam recognized the voice as belonging to Lady Josephine who had made no secret that she found Rayne utterly charming and would not object in the slightest to becoming his countess in the near future.

  "And I am just certain it was that door down there." That was Miss Collins, to be certain. Adam would have recognized that high-pitched whine of a voice anywhere. As would Rayne evidently, given the rather ghastly look on his face which was illuminated by a pale shaft of moonlight now filtering in through the partially open curtains.

  Adam heard a sniff of derision. "Neither of you is correct for I know that Lord Raynecourt wishes to converse with me this evening. So therefore he cannot be hiding behind a locked door. It makes no sense!" That was Lady Florentina and Adam saw Rayne all but grimace at her words. "No, I am certain he is with Lord Hathaway somewhere. The two were speaking earlier at dinner."

  That comment caused Miss Collins to trill with laughter, a rather unpleasant sound that made Adam's skin crawl. "The duke? Certainly not! Why, the earl is far too esteemed to risk his reputation by speaking with that man. He is a rake!"

  "He is also still a duke," Lady Josephine reminded the others, though to Adam's relief, she had also stopped tugging on the door. "That should count for something."

  "Only if one is desperate and we are not," Miss Collins replied tartly. "Other women here might be, like that merchant's daughter from Plymouth. I believe I saw them speaking earlier, which would not surprise me in the least. But not us. After all, she is hardly a lady. Not as we are."

  Anger flared through Adam and his first inclination was to throw open the door and lecture the three shrews about what, precisely, defined a lady. Something of his intentions must have shown on his face for Rayne reached out a steadying hand and laid it over his arm, giving Adam pause.

  What in the world was he thinking? Why didn't he just make an announcement to the entire house party that he had kissed Abigail in the garden that morning and could not stop thinking about her, and simply get it over with? Adam knew that even the slightest comment or sound would give him away to that pack of jackals on the other side of the door. And he was thinking about lecturing them regarding Abigail? Was he daft? How hard had he hit his head anyway?

  Finally, after a little more debate and a few more half-hearted tugs at the door, the women moved off, much to Adam's relief. Still, Rayne would not move away from the door until he was certain they were gone, leaving Adam trapped in the room as well. Not that he particularly minded. While he did not relish another lecture from the earl, it was better than hearing from those women just how utterly lacking they found him.

  When Rayne was certain the ladies had moved on, he pulled away from the door and unerringly found a single candle that had been tucked into the shelves. Adam hadn't noticed it before, but then, he hadn't really been looking either.

  As the candle flared to life, Adam could see the relief that was clearly written all over the other man's face. "Something of the popular sort this evening, are you?" he asked the earl even though he already knew the answer. Still, it was something to fill the silence and Adam was quickly learning that he did not much care for silence any longer. At least not the strained sort that had become common in his life.


  "I take it you did not read the Town Tattler this morning?" Rayne straightened the cuffs of his evening shirt.

  "Er, no. I was a bit...indisposed this morning." On the front lawn. With Miss Northrup. And some hedgehogs, apparently, though he still did not remember those creatures at all.

  The earl nodded. "Right. Slept outside, didn't you?" He shook his head. "Heard all about it when I arrived this morning, as you might expect. Apparently you were the talk of the party last evening. Again. Jumping over balconies and running off so even the servants couldn't locate you?"

  That was interesting to note, though Adam also quickly decided that the servants couldn't have looked very hard. Abigail had found him with ease, after all. He had been sprawled flat on his back in the formal gardens where anyone might have tripped over him, had they but looked. "Please." Adam held up his hand. "I don't wish to discuss what is surely another black mark against my name."

  "Actually" Rayne drawled slowly, "what transpired last night actually helped your reputation, if you can believe such a thing." He leaned back against the bookcase and watched Adam out of the corner of his eye.

  There, finally, was the man who was connected to the fearsome Bloody Duke of Candlewood and instantly Adam was on alert. "How so?" Because as far as Adam could tell, based on the ladies' conversation just now if nothing else, he was still viewed as something of a scrapegrace.

  This time when the earl looked at Adam, his eyes all but glittered in the candle's flickering light. "Though you broke with protocol in ending your sister's betrothal, do not think that it went unnoticed that you did so only to protect your sister. You are not the only one who recently discovered Lord Selby's enormous gambling debts. What was once secret is now common knowledge. And believe it or not, while the young ladies of the ton still think you a beast, their mamas and papas now have a new regard for you and your sense of duty. That you would go so far to protect your sister from harm and a potentially disastrous marriage has redeemed you somewhat in their eyes." He paused and then shrugged. "Somewhat, mind you. For not all of your transgressions have been forgiven."