The Kiss of a Rogue

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  By this point, Abigail's head was spinning. She had absolutely no idea what sort of point Lady Hathaway was attempting to make, and she wondered if the woman was going mad. She would not be the first Society matron to suffer mental issues when her son was rebuffed by the ton.

  "I have spoken to Lord Hathaway several times. That is true." Abigail chose her words carefully. "As you may or may not know, we were briefly introduced the night of his arrival." She paused for a moment, trying to think of how best to phrase what she wished to say. "Before everything went wrong with Lord Selby, that is." That was not strictly true, but it wasn't as if Abigail could reveal the truth to Adam's mother of all people. "Then we spoke again a few times yesterday. But this is a small house party, your grace, and, as I am not viewed as a true lady by many of the guests here, those that will speak with me are few and far between. I consider myself fortunate that your son is among those who do not hold my lack of a noble birth against me."

  This time when Lady Hathaway laughed, it seemed to come easier and Abigail thought that this was a woman she could truly like if given the chance. She also no longer thought Adam's mother was mad. She was merely concerned about her son. Despite the fact that he was one and thirty and more than capable of taking care of himself.

  "Ah, gel. How foolish you are! My son doesn't just not care that you are not of noble blood, and I will allow that he is far more progressive in his thinking than many of his set in that regard." The older woman smiled kindly. "He is enamored of you, my dear, though I do not know why. Perhaps it is something you said or something you did, particularly that first night when events went so very wrong."

  Abigail was willing to believe that, though she did not point out that the event occurred the following morning on Fairhaven's lawn - when the duke was half-naked. "I...ah...don't know what to say."

  "Then do not say anything." The duchess pushed herself to her feet and Abigail sprung up as well. "Just know that my son is in a delicate state at the moment. His future in Society likely hinges on the next few days. And much as I would like, I cannot fix this. At least not on my own. Understand that I am not powerless and I am doing what I can, particularly where the spreading of appropriate rumors are concerned. But Adam?" She paused and Abigail was a bit shocked that Lady Hathaway would use his Christian name in front of her. Then again, the duchess likely knew far more about Abigail and Adam's relationship than she was letting on. "He is the one who must right this wrong in the end. And if you do not intend to stand by him, as a friend or otherwise, no matter what happens, then please leave him be."

  "I was unaware that many of your set believed that men and women could be friends." It was a silly thing to say, but Abigail could come up with nothing else that would not give away her utter infatuation with the duke.

  This time when Lady Hathaway smiled it was sad. "Though it may not seem that way to you, all of us older set were young once. And we had friends, both male and female. Our society, as a whole, gets many things wrongs these days, including the belief that men and women cannot be friends. I, however, happen to believe otherwise. And if my son wished to have a female friend before he wed, I would not stop him. Or, if he wished her to become something more, then, as long as the lady had his best interests at heart, I would not object to that either."

  Then, Lady Hathaway was gone, sweeping out of the room as quickly as she had entered and leaving Abigail in a state of utter confusion. Had that been the duchess giving Abigail permission to...well, to what exactly? Speak with Adam? Be seen in his company? Dance with him in two nights during the first ball of the house party? What, exactly, had she been granting permission for?

  Abigail had no idea and was afraid that she was beginning to develop the start of a megrim from all of the confusion. This was not turning out to be the quiet and secluded morning she had been expecting.

  Gathering up her book, Abigail decided to seek out another part of Fairhaven where she might hide when once more, the door to the music room flew open. This time, however, it was not Lady Hathaway who strode through the doorway, but rather the Comte De La Croix.

  Immediately, Abigail stiffened and she reached for a small conductor's baton that had been resting on the pianoforte. She had no idea who had left it there or why, but the end was sharp and would serve as an effective weapon if necessary. Then she dropped into a curtsey, all the while keeping the baton hidden within the folds of her skirt.

  "Comte." Abigail prided herself on keeping her voice calm and steady. "It is nice to see you this morning." It annoyed her that ever since she had arrived at Fairhaven, the lies came so easily to her tongue, but it could not be helped. It was the nature of house parties, after all.

  He bowed in turn, even though she knew it was not necessary or expected. "Miss Northrup. It is utterly delightful to see you." Then he looked back at the door, which he had somehow closed without her noticing. "Was that Lady Hathaway I just saw departing?" Which meant that he had been watching the door and hoping to catch her alone.

  "It was." Abigail stiffened, not wishing to reveal too much. "We were just discussing Lady Sophia's nose. I am told it is not broken, thank all that is good." Actually, a servant had informed Abigail of the news that morning. Oddly enough, the fact that Abigail had whacked Sophia in the nose with a shuttlecock hadn't even come up during her talk with the duchess.

  "Really?" the comte drawled lazily. "I would have thought that the two of you were discussing this morning's Town Tattler. It is ever so fascinating reading. It takes some deciphering, however, to make sense of it all." Just then, Abigail had a fairly good idea of how Madame C. was obtaining at least some of her information. And she had a feeling that this man was the source of the story regarding the young lady seen helping the duke across the lawn several mornings ago.

  Clearing her throat, Abigail crossed her arms over her chest. She would not be pushed about by this man, nor would she play his silly games. She was stronger than that. "What do you want, Comte? For I sincerely doubt that this is a social visit."

  "Tonight's musicale is also now scheduled to include dancing." He grinned, but the expression was more lascivious than welcoming. "I had hoped that I might persuade you to save me the first dance. And a waltz."

  She swallowed hard. "That would imply that we are courting, my lord. But we are not. Yet you would have people believe otherwise."

  There was a dark look she did not care for in the man's eyes. "But we could. For you are delectable and I would thoroughly enjoy bedding you. Enjoy breaking your spirit, shall we say."

  "I am not interested," Abigail retorted angrily, though her voice trembled a bit with fear and she was disgusted with herself. "I do not need you or your games."

  "Do you really think I care what you want or need? Other than a good tumbling, of course," he tossed back easily. "For while your body is a prize that I covet, there is far more to you than the delights of the flesh."

  When he moved closer as if to grab her, Abigail took a step back but found that she was already up against the pianoforte. Drat it all that she had let down her guard, even for a moment.

  Now, Abigail did her best to stand her ground and not show fear. "I will ask you again, sir. What do you want?"

  Slowly, he reached out to stoke his finger down her arm and she wished that she had worn evening gloves for the single layer of cotton still allowed the heat from his body to warm hers at the touch. "Nothing. A trifle, really, when you think about it."

  "My dowry." It was no secret that her dowry was among the highest in all of England. Even higher than most Society ladies. It was part of the reason why she was retiring. Even after all this time, she could not be certain when a man liked her for who she was or whether he liked her father's money more. Except for Adam. He didn't seem to care one whit about the coin.

  "A true businessman's daughter." De La Croix offered her a sly wink. "And intelligent as well. That being the case, surely you can see that we would make an ideal pair. By wedding me, you would receive a tit
le. Surely a mere miss like you would find that attractive."

  Abigail snorted in disgust, her mind racing as she attempted to figure out a way to escape. "If you believe me to be that shallow, my lord, then you do not know me at all."

  "I do not need to know you to know that I would very much like to bed you." His eyes fairly gleamed as he spoke and this time, Abigail did feel a moment of fear. "You would be a hellcat, I am certain." Then he smiled again and once more, she felt sick to her stomach. "And your father's money would help me set my estate to rights." He reached for her then and somehow, she managed to dart away from his grasp. "In fact, he might offer me more when I tell him that you are already with child since you willingly fucked me before we were even legally wed."

  "You would not dare!" Abigail hissed, furious now and prepared to fight with all that she was.

  "Oh, but I would." There was a deadness in De La Croix's eyes that she did not like. "In the last few weeks, I have lost just about everything. I am desperate. And desperate men do desperate things. Including wedding lowly chits like you for money."

  This time when he reached for her, Abigail was not fast enough and he managed to grab her wrist. That was all the incentive she needed to lash out.

  Quick as anything, she struck, driving the sharp point of the baton into the back of the comte's hand. He howled in pain as the end easily penetrated the thin cotton of his glove and he jumped backwards, releasing her as he did so.

  Knowing that she had only bought herself a little time, Abigail made a dash for the door, since this was one of the few rooms at Fairhaven that did not have a balcony or other means to the outside. However, she wasn't quite quick enough and De La Croix reached out again, snagging her hand and yanking her hard to him.

  "Bitch!" he snarled as he reached down with his still bleeding hand to yank up her skirts. "I was going to seduce you properly, but now I do not think so. I think it's time I took what I wanted and be done with it."

  Abigail opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out as the count clamped his hand over her mouth. Then she felt his hand on her thigh and she kicked out, but only connected with open air and not his most private of areas as she had hoped. It seemed that the man had some experience with unwilling ladies, which did not bode well for her, she knew.

  She was about to attempt a second attack when, as if by magic, the count was gone, his hands yanked away from her person. She was so surprised that she tumbled backwards and only just managed to catch herself on the edge of the pianoforte bench before she hit the floor with an inelegant thud. Then again, had she not stopped her fall, she likely would have hit her head, which would have made the situation ever so much worse.

  "Do...not...touch...her! Not ever again! Do you understand me?" Abigail had never heard such a lovely sound as that of Adam thundering in fury at the count as he yanked the man backwards and nearly slammed him full force into a wall. "She is not some plaything for you to toy with! She is a lady! Now leave this place at once before Enwright learns of your treachery and complete disrespect for his guests!"

  De La Croix looked around the room, his eyes still filled with that oddly vacant stare and for a moment, Abigail truly wondered if something might be wrong with the man. Then he seemed to shake himself from whatever stupor he had been in and glared at both Adam and Abigail. "She is not worth my time anyway, whore that she is," he spat.

  Adam would have hit the man but Abigail's hand on his arm stopped him. "No. You do not need another black mark against your name," she whispered. "He is not worth it."

  "Go!" Adam snarled at the French count again. "And do not come back." His gaze was narrowed on the other man and it was clear that he meant what he said.

  "This is not over," De La Croix snapped but then managed to right his clothing into some semblance of order before stalking out of the music room and leaving a still shaking Abigail behind.

  Finally, when it was clear that he was gone, Adam turned back to her and, unable to stop himself, reached up to cup her cheek gently, reputation and discovery be damned. "Are you hurt, sweeting?" He did not think he could bear it if she was.

  Abigail shook her head. "No. He did not have a chance to do much more than touch me and even then, only briefly." She shuddered again and turned into Adam's touch, relishing the feel of his hand on her face. "But he meant to. He wanted my dowry. He said that he needed it and he did not care how he obtained it. Just like every other man I have ever met."

  Before he could stop and consider whether or not it was wise, Adam reached out and pulled Abigail to him, enveloping her tightly in his embrace. "You are more than your dowry, Abby." He did not know what possessed him to use a nickname he was not even certain she would like, but he was gratified when she snuggled in closer to him despite the fact that the room was growing warmer as the moments passed. "That is why you are leaving Society, isn't it?"

  "Partly," she confessed as she wrapped her arms around Adam's waist, even though she knew she shouldn't. If they were caught, this really would be the end of her. Still, she needed the strong reassurance of his body beneath her touch. She was afraid that she would fall apart without it. "And partly because I don't know if men desire me or my father's money. I'm not certain I ever knew."

  "Oh, those men desire you," Adam grumbled, his anger slowly fading. What would have happened if he had not happened upon the scene when he had? He shuddered to think of the consequences. But he had been there and she was safe. "They would be blind not to. You are utterly irresistible, Abby."

  Something inside of Abigail warmed at his words and she felt the icy fear that had gripped her at De La Croix's attack slowly begin to ebb away. "You are merely saying that to be kind, Adam."

  "Does this seem like kindness to you?" Adam asked as he drew Abigail even closer to him and tilted her chin up so that she would look at him. "For it does not to me."

  Then he kissed her. He knew he should not. It was likely too soon after De La Croix put his hands on her. Dear God, the fiend had tried to rape her! But Adam also needed to know that Abigail was safe. That no harm had come to her. For somewhere over the last few days, she had become utterly precious to him. And while he knew that it could not last for longer than the duration of this house party, mostly because she would not allow anything more, he would take from her what he could while he could. As long as she was freely offering it.

  When Adam had first pulled her close, Abigail's fear had flared again. But then she inhaled the warm scent of bergamot and sandalwood, the two fragrances that she most associated with him and the fear all but vanished. This was Adam. He would not hurt her. He cared for her. And she wanted him. She might not be able to have him, at least not forever, for he was so far above her touch.

  But in this moment, she could pretend that he was hers. And she gave into his kiss, drinking him in like he was the finest of wines and damning the consequences.

  Chapter Ten

  By the time evening arrived, it seemed that all of Fairhaven knew at least something about the incident in the music room with De La Croix - and Adam's part in preventing a tragedy. Even though no one truly seemed to know how close Abigail had come to being raped. That part, thankfully, had been left out and somehow, the story went that the French count had simply been trying to steal a kiss the lady was unwilling to give. And nothing more.

  Even so, Adam had no idea how even that much of the story had gotten out. He had it on excellent authority - namely Enwright himself - that the count had quietly disappeared around mid-morning, requesting that his trunks be packed and sent on after him, mentioning only that he had a family emergency. The man hadn't mentioned a word to anyone about his attempt to force Abigail into marriage, not that Adam had expected him to since the entire situation already reflected very badly upon him.

  So how anyone knew that something had transpired in the music room was beyond his comprehension, for he certainly hadn't told anyone. Neither had Abigail.

  However Fairhaven must have had spies everywhere, f
or all throughout dinner and during a round of port afterwards, Adam was routinely congratulated for saving both Miss Northrup's reputation and her person. To a man, they all commented on how fortunate it was that he had been passing by just at the very moment Abigail had screamed.

  Except that she hadn't screamed. She had been too terrified to utter more than a small squeak. And while Adam had been just outside the music room when the situation had turned ugly, it was because Lady Enwright - to his surprise - had mentioned that she thought Abigail was headed for the music room earlier. Which was a complete change from the night before.

  In short, Adam did not understand any of what was going on and had the distinct impression that he was being manipulated. He also knew that he was too exhausted to care.

  After rescuing Abigail from De La Croix, he scarcely had time to pull away from her before a veritable horde of young ladies, including Abigail's friend Lady Charlotte, had descended upon the music room. They had been looking specifically for Abigail, hoping to convince her to accompany them to the Roman ruins. However, Abigail had pleaded a megrim and had retreated to her room for the rest of the day. For his part, Adam had simply said that he was passing by and that he saw her begin to swoon, likely from the megrim, and had entered the room to steady her. Now everyone knew that his initial story had been a lie, but given that he was being painted as the hero, no one seemed to care.

  After Lady Charlotte and the others had swept Abigail away, calling for a physician in the process, Adam had hoped to retreat to the library or some place else where he could think - and calm himself before he went in search of De La Croix and challenged the man to a duel. Or worse, killed him outright. This sort of base behavior was not like him. Despite his unsavory reputation, Adam did not challenge men to duels or indulge in spirits or kiss young ladies senseless. He saved that last bit for widows, whores, and mistresses. Nor did he make cutting remarks as he had to Lady Josephine and Lady Florentina last evening.