The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 4 (The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Sets)

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  "How can you be so sure," he asked with interest.

  "Because we faced her together, Matthew and I, and both told her where she stood in no uncertain terms.

  Philip raised his brows. "Good for you, my little tigress."

  She made a meowing sound and clawing gesture with her hands that set them both laughing.

  "Matthew is worth fighting for. So it was easy to stand up to her in the end."

  "And you lived to tell the tale."

  "In the end, she didn't even put up that much of a fuss. She knew when she was defeated. In fact, she knew all along that Matthew loved me. That we belonged together. It just took him a bit longer to figure it out than the rest of us."

  "I'm glad he did. It's nice to see him so happy. I couldn't wish for better for all the Rakehells."

  "Amen to that."

  "How much further do you think?" she asked after a time, peering out the window once more.

  "About another three hours. You should rest. I'll wake you just before we have to get down."

  "Thanks, Philip, I'll do that. I want to be rested and refreshed for our next move."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A quick stop at the tavern at Bartlet to leave word for all the Rakehells that they had arrived safely, some food, water, and an adjustment to her toilette, and Althea declared herself ready to meet her nemesis.

  Philip, to be fair, tried to talk her out of it one more time, but Althea was adamant that this was the only way.

  "Just remember, if I'm not out of the house within two hours, start to worry."

  "Wonderful," he groaned.

  "Trust me, it will be all right."

  She swept up to the door of her old home, recalling the front garden when it had rung with happy laughter as Matthew and she had played there together not all that long ago. Well, it was a new game now. Life and death. And she had every intention of winning.

  Her former servant Barkins was surprised but pleased to see her, and did not act in the least nervous or suspicion. Good, an ally, she thought to herself with an inward sigh of relief.

  Barkins informed her that the mistress was out, but she could join her step-brother Charles in the drawing room.

  She thought she was more than ready for her role, but the sight of her step-brother Charles hit her broadsides. For moment she could feel her fists clench and her smile turn to a snarl.

  But she gritted her teeth, thinking of the poor girl somewhere nearby, cold, frightened, alone, possibly injured, and her certain dire fate, and propelled herself forward into the room, girding herself mentally to put on the performance of her life.

  He looked shocked to see her, and wary, as she had anticipated. So her first move would have to be to get him receptive to her overtures.

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him on both cheeks, and then more lingeringly on the lips, a taste to tempt the lascivious man.

  Althea reminded herself it was all an act, and tried not to jerk away or spit as he returned the kiss for a moment until she came down off her tiptoes and ended it. She could never allow her new-found confidence to waver for an instant, or she would be their victim once more.

  She told herself that she was a goddess. Eswara had taught her well. Matthew worshipped her. She would have her enemies at her feet if she just held her nerve a little while longer...

  "Hello, Charles. So delightful to find you home alone. Perfect for a tete a tete. I must say you're looking very well," she said, dredging up one of the long lusty looks she usually reserved for her husband. "Very well indeed."

  "And you, my dear. Positively blooming" he said with a leer.

  She resisted the temptation to slap him.

  "Though you appear a bit anxious, my dear. Don't tell me married life is not all you imagined it to be," he said, circling her now like a wolf its prey.

  She sighed, fluttering her lashes. "You always did know me so well, Brother," she said with a vulpine smile. "I do find that though my husband is a fine man, there is something missing from my life on occasion. He's so gentlemanly, respectable. Lord save a girl from a reformed Rake. Oh, he has taught me much, but that's just the trouble, isn't it?"

  "What is?" Charles asked softly.

  "Once one discovers the er, delights of Venus," she said in a stage whisper, "it's so hard to get enough of them."

  "You don't say," he said, his voice lowering in timbre.

  It vibrated through her, not setting off desire, but rather filling her with disgust. But he was playing the game according to her rules, and she needed to keep him in thrall now that she'd got him to sport with her.

  "I find I've got a prodigious appetite for, um, all the delights of the senses, and Somerset is such a sleepy little backwater that I find the opportunity to expand my education and try, um, some new dishes is sadly limited. One can only dine at a few select houses, and even then the fare is only middling to good."

  "You don't say." His ears were not the only things pricking up now.

  "I find that some of the ladies of the house are very good card players, but indifferent to what is spread on the table. Some of them are most obliging, but there aren't enough couples at table. Especially damning is the way the men retire with the port and cigars, and keep their amusements to themselves."

  Her step-brother was almost drooling as he gathered the underlying message in her veiled discourse.

  "I do so like some good lamb, don't you? But not old mutton. Of course, the ram has the fullest flavour, as I've discovered thanks to you. And I adore the shank."

  She licked her lips suggestively, and then took her forefinger into her mouth for a brief second before giving him her most winning smile.

  "Would you care to dine now?" he growled, reaching for her.

  "Not now, but thank you for the offer of your, er, warm hospitality," she said, sidestepping him neatly. "I find as with all excellent meals, anticipation is at least half of the pleasure. But I can give you something of a taste if you like."

  He moved to kiss her again, but she ducked her head and reached for the fastenings of his trousers boldly. His brows shot up.

  "Someone might come in. My mother-"

  "She knows. Doesn't she? And she likes to dine too, with our friends, doesn't she? So why be so hypocritical?"

  "Well, yes, when you put it that way, but--"

  She had unfastened his drawers enough by now to be able to reach in and under, and without touching him in any other way she unerringly found the dimple Eswara had called the sacred spot and pressed hard.

  He gasped and cried out, and she pulled her hand away before it was flooded with dampness. He fell backwards onto the sofa clutching himself and trembling as weakly as a sick kitten.

  "My God, how did you-"

  "I've learned about all sorts of exotic cooking. Did you know the banquets in India last for hours and hours, with all sorts of hot, spicy dishes?" she drawled in a husky tone.

  She managed to keep her gaze steady, the smile inviting on her face, though inside she would have liked nothing better than to grabbed his cullions and twist them until they snapped off. "But all in good time."

  "Hours, you say?" he gasped, licking his lips.

  "Hours," she confirmed. "And I'm getting so hungry."

  "We have a nice little squab, now that you mention it. But she needs to be dressed and made ready. We can let you work you culinary skills with her so long as you promise not to get too spicy and stuff her. She's very, very fresh."

  "Mm, sounds delicious. But bound for the cook pot soon, I hope?"

  He nodded, not the least bit suspicious as he boasted, "Oh, yes, very soon. Who knows, perhaps even tonight. We're expecting more guests for dinner shortly."

  Althea gave a broad smile. "How wonderful. The more the merrier." She rose from the sofa. "In that case, I believe I'd like a bath and to change for dinner? I'd like to be sufficiently er, dressed for the occasion."

  "May I join you?"

  She kept her gaze level. "So lon
g as you don't mind just watching for now. It's been a fatiguing journey and I want to last through all of the courses at dinner."

  "Watching you would be a pleasure. So long as you don't mind giving me a hand stirring the pot."

  "Not at all. I think you'll find I can stir for ages without getting tired."

  By the time she finished in the bathroom Charles was a quivering mass of need. She paused as if hesitating to tug on her chemise. "No point getting dressed, now is there?"

  "Our, ah, dinner party is a distance away outdoors. So do don it, and you can put on your boots and cloak if you like. Otherwise, you can dispense with a gown. I rather fancy the rest of you just like that, all rosy and creamy and ripe, just ready for dessert."

  He reached for her, but she stepped away and threw the chemise over her head.

  She slapped his hand away coquettishly when he tried again. "Now, now, I can't abide a chef who dabbles his fingers into all the pots."

  "Ah, but you must admit a taste is good every now and again. Helps keep things on track."

  "Ah, but I have a few things I'd like to taste myself first. Is it dark enough to go now, do you think? I find I'm so famished, if I don't get something soon, I'm just going to have to lie down and expire."

  He shivered at her double entendre, and began to pleasure himself. She pretended to watch avidly from under veiled lids and toyed with her breasts, the better to get him to finish as soon as possible. He did so a short time later, pulled himself together and got ready to leave.

  It was still quite light, and the hands of his watch pointed to only five, but Charles was so eager to possess Althea that he decided to go with her early. The others would be along soon enough.

  She could only hope that several of his accomplices would decide to go to their secret hiding place early as well. But she really needed to be sure. "Is it too soon for the others?" she asked as they checked their garments once more.

  "No, I can send the signal as soon as we get there telling them that all is well. I can also send a signal to hurry."

  "Yes, please, hurry," she purred, running her hand along his chest lingeringly. "If we are going outside, then let me just get my cloak."

  Since she was naked under the chemise, Charles never took much notice of the weight of the cloak as she swirled it around her, nor the fact that she carried her reticule underneath.

  He took her right arm, and she forced herself to smile up at him as he stroked along its bare inner length. She told herself she would walk over hot coals if it meant bringing Charles and his colleagues to justice.

  As Althea had guessed, he led her out the back of the house over the fields and along the hedgerow and into the back entrance of the parish graveyard, to the ancient chapel there. It was seldom used now except for special feast days since the new church had been built about ten years before.

  The door to the ancient bell tower yielded with the twist of a key, and he instructed, "Here, this is the latch."

  She looked as he pointed to what appeared to be a small gargoyle's head. But when he took her hand and pressed it over the stone, the wall shifted, opening a gap wide enough to let a man pass through. She could see the altar in the distance, and he now pressed a second stone in the floor.

  "The old crypt. You head down and start to er, dine. I'll get the others."

  She was about to descend when he grabbed her wrist. For a moment she wondered if he had sensed her terror in having to descend into the pit once more, or the brief second when she had paused to reconsider what she was doing going down in the Devil's own lair.

  But he only handed her a small bottle, pressing it into her fingers so intimately she had to fight off her revulsion at his slimy touch.

  "You might need to give her some of this if she's not amenable. She can be a little wildcat when roused. Worse even than you were."

  "Don't worry. I have a very persuasive tongue, as I'm sure you recall."

  He licked his lips lewdly, fondled her buttocks, and left her. He headed up to the bell tower, whilst she hurried downstairs to see how the poor girl had fared.

  Althea gasped as she saw the wild-eyed, tiny brunette tied to the table. She looked like a feral cat with her glowing green gaze. The stream of invective which came from her mouth was so vile it made even Althea blush.

  "Sush, your cousin Philip sent me," she whispered hurriedly, loosening her bonds in preparation for their eventual flight. "He was under the impression you were retiring and demure. Just goes to show that it's impossible to ever really know another human being."

  Her eyes flew wide. "Philip sent you? A woman? Are you a whore?"

  "Nay! A decent married woman."

  "My God, have you any idea what they're going to do to you?"

  She said, nodding grimly. "I do. They already did it to me. I escaped. I'm here to help you, but you need to trust me, play along."

  "Play along? This is no game! Those bastards--"

  "I need to buy us some time. We can't flee just yet. We need to wait long enough for the others to come, so they can be caught in the act and pay for the crime against both of us. Do you understand? I'm supposed to, er, warm you up so to speak."

  "No, no you don't--"

  "Not like that," Althea hastened to assure her. "I can do something called massage. I promise not to hurt you, touch you in a bad way, but we need to play the game just a little while longer. Then Philip will get these horrible men arrested and we can all go home. Do you understand?"

  She looked at her for a time longer, the nodded.

  "Do you trust me?"

  The girl eyed her, then shrugged. "I haven't got much choice, so yes, I do."

  She looked at Patrice in surprise. She seemed lucid. "Have they not been drugging you?"

  "They have. But I've been throwing it up again and trying to find a way out."

  "Listen, my step-brother Charles will be here in a minute. Get on the table, pretend to be drugged. If I tap you twice with my finger like this, pretend to groan with pleasure."

  "I'll try. God, I'm so thirsty."

  She flicked off her cloak and opened her reticule. "I'm sorry I don't have any water with me, but I do have a brace of pistols."

  "That'll do," she said with evident relief, and less of a wary look in her eyes now.

  Althea stared. "I must say, you're nothing like Philip-"

  "Oh he's so protective, I might as well live in a nunnery. But I'm no fool. I know what men are like. They've been trying to get into my knickers since I was twelve and grew breasts. I want to have as little to do with them as possible as a result. But I'm not a naive country bumpkin, and certainly not naive after what this lot have been doing to me. The bastards."

  "Just relax, don't tense up so. We need to be ready for a fight," she whispered, bringing her head parallel with the girl's on the splintered wooden table which had served as the platform for many of the acts the men had subjected both women to.

  Patrice had positioned herself with her head toward the single chair in the crypt and now Charles came downstairs and sat in it.

  "They're on their way," he said, settling back and prepared to watch and enjoy the show. "Did you need to drug her?"

  "I gave her more, yes, but she's already a bit out of this world from whatever you gave her last time. No sense in dabbling with her if she's like a corpse. Unless of course some of you like the whole dead thing. I can't recall the naughty word for it."

  He shook his head. "No, I like mine fresh and lively enough. I even prefer a good fight, as you know, little sister. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I just got so excited. But the drug saves a lot of time and energy, and Mother swears it heightens the pleasure for the woman."

  "Yes, just where is your dear mama?"

  "On her way. She couldn't wait for supper either."

  Althea should not have been surprised to see her arrive a short time later with the two Conroys, though they were both so much younger than she. It was evident what they had all been doing by their state of undr
ess under their cloaks. What did shock her was the third man, for he was none other than the handsome young vicar Mr. Simpson.

  He stripped off and stood naked and at the ready faster than any of them, and leered at Althea as he began to oil his body all over with great gusto from a bottle he took from a recess full of supplies which she shuddered to look at once more.

  "How lovely to see you again, Althea," he purred. "We missed the finale with you. But I have a feeling that being married has taught you all sorts of interesting things. Virgin sacrifice is all very well in its place, but there's nothing quite like the bounce of a good experienced woman of the world, eh, Lucy?" he said with a grin over at Charles' mother. "Anyway, my dear Althea, welcome home."