Regan giggled as Dare grabbed the sheet and pulled it over their heads. He had a few hours to demonstrate how wicked he could be with her between the sheets.
Chapter Twenty-one
With Dare watching for any sign of life coming from Frost’s bedchamber, Regan slipped into hers and swiftly dressed. When she emerged, they stealthily made their way down to the kitchen hand in hand.
Both of them were ravenous. This time for food.
Sitting on the kitchen floorboards with a lighted candle between them, Regan and Dare supped on cold lobster pie, thick buttered slices of bread, Cheshire cheese, and apple compote.
When they spoke, it was rarely above a whisper because they did not want to rouse any of the servants. Dare presented Regan with a fork laden with lobster pie. It was a novel experience to have a gentleman feed her. Leaning forward, her lips parted so she could accept his offering.
“You are not climbing the balconies again,” Dare said, stabbing a lobster morsel for himself. “I will not tolerate it.”
Regan’s eyes narrowed as she was chewed and swallowed the food in her mouth. “Very clever of you to stuff my mouth before you lectured me on my conduct.”
“Be reasonable, Regan. You could have slipped and broken your neck.” He waved the fork to emphasize his point. “What if Frost had opened the doors to his balcony and caught you leaping about like an acrobat?”
Regan brushed the crumbs from her fingers. “My brother did not discover me, so what I would have said or done is moot.” She selected a slice of cheese, broke it, and offered him half. “Stop worrying about Frost.”
His fingers covered hers. “I still have not gained your oath that you will never traverse the balconies in that manner again.”
She tilted her head to the side, mildly curious to see how far she could push him. “And what will you do if I do not give it?”
Dare’s blue-gray eyes gleamed with something akin to anticipation. “I will drag you into my bed and fuck you until you are so weak, you will be incapable of denying me anything.”
Regan shivered at the thought of his hands and mouth on her body again. “You are supposed to be discouraging me, my lord.”
He took the cheese from her hand and popped it in his mouth. “Your promise, Regan.”
She shrugged. “Very well. You have it. No more acrobatics.”
Dare nodded, apparently satisfied that she would keep her promise. “How is your arm?”
Regan glanced down at her bare arm. “Fine. I had forgotten about it till now.” When he reached over for one of the buttered slices of bread, she noticed the shadow of a bruise along his jaw. “Earlier, at Sin’s house, you looked like you had been brawling with someone.”
“Charles.”
Had Lady Pashley summoned her brother-in-law once again? “Why did your brother punch you?”
“Who said he needed a reason,” he replied, rubbing his jaw. “He also tried to break a chair over my head.”
Regan was infuriated on his behalf. “And what did you do?”
“Return the favor,” he said nonchalantly.
She crossed her arms. “I do not believe this. Where were your mother and father while your brother did his best to murder you?”
And where was Lady Pashley? Regan silently asked. Had she been the one to provoke the fight?
“I do not know where my mother was. I had come to speak to my father about Charles and—” He glanced down at his hands, reluctant to continue.
“And?”
He picked up the glass of wine that they had been sharing. “I suppose you have heard the news about Mrs. Randall.”
It was Regan’s turn to glance away. “Yes. I heard the tragic news when I called on Juliana and Sin.” She stared sadly at the dishes about them, realizing that her appetite had fled. “Is your connection to Mrs. Randall causing some concern?”
Dare put down the glass of wine. “My connection?”
“You were seen speaking to her at the Trussells’ ball.”
“Not exactly a crime.”
“You told me that you had escorted Mrs. Randall home that evening. There was some speculation that you and the widow were lovers.”
“Damn. I had wondered why you were so upset about Mrs. Randall. Who told you that we were lovers?”
“Well, Mrs. Randall told me—”
Dare was taken aback by her admission. “You spoke to the widow about me?”
Regan wrinkled her nose. “At Lady Harper’s literary salon, Mrs. Randall confided that a certain gentleman had caught her interest. I did not know that she was referring to you until I saw you approach her at Lord and Lady Trussell’s ball. Lady Pashley seemed to think that if you were not already Mrs. Randall’s lover, you planned to be soon.”
Dare muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He bent his knee and casually braced his arms against it. “I told you the truth that night in the library. I escorted Mrs. Randall home. Nothing more. Allegra lied. Mrs. Randall and I were never lovers.”
But you desired her, Regan wanted to say, but she held her tongue. Her jealousy seemed petty since the poor woman was dead.
Dare pushed aside the various dishes that separated them, so he could crawl to her side. Sitting on his knees, he pulled her into his arms. “Listen to me, Regan Alice. Before your arrival, I will admit that I had contemplated an intimate liaison with the widow.”
He tipped her chin up with his fingers when she lowered her head. “Then I saw you at the theater, and suddenly all my thoughts wended their way back to you. I told myself a dozen times that it was wrong. Still, I thought I might go mad if I could not have you in my bed.”
Desire flared to life between them. Her body responded to the intent that she read the intent in his eyes. Regan’s eyelashes fluttered downward as she leaned in for a kiss.
“Not here,” she whispered. “Anyone might stumble across us.”
“Indeed,” Frost said, his palms planted firmly on the long wooden table behind them.
Regan and Dare sprang apart, but the damage was done.
Frost stared down at his friend with cold amusement. “If you wish to deflower my sister, Dare, might I suggest something more discreet like the library or better still, your bedchamber. Then again, a clever gent like you has already figured out how to take what you want.”
* * *
“Dear sister, now that you have enjoyed your repast, I would suggest that you return to your bedchamber,” Frost said mildly.
Dare helped Regan to her feet. “No.”
“Utterly charming,” Frost said to Dare. “You seduce my sister, and I am the villain for wanting to protect her.”
On the surface, his friend did not seem particularly violent. Still dressed in his evening clothes, Frost had been home long enough to remove his frock coat and untie his cravat. His hands were empty, but that did not mean that the earl was not fully capable of using his fists to express his displeasure.
“This is not what is seems,” Regan began.
Dare winced. Frost was an expert at seduction. There was no lie she could utter that he would believe. “Yes, it is.”
Regan gaped at him as if he were crazy.
“How did you know?”
“About the library?” Frost pushed off from the table and approached them. “There were two glasses of unfinished brandy on the desk. One of the servants reported that he heard odd noises coming from within. It was not difficult to deduce what might have occurred in my absence.”
“And my bedchamber?”
Frost tapped his earlobe. “I have excellent hearing, and, oh, by the by, your bed squeaks.”
Both gentlemen ignored the soft choking sound coming from Regan.
“A few weeks ago, I had assumed that the charming Mrs. Randall had coaxed you away from your self-imposed celibacy.” He glanced down at Regan, who had begun picking up the dishes and candlestick that littered the floor. “One might have thought our Dare had the makings of a monk until the widow began
flirting with him.”
If his friend persisted, Regan was likely to think that Dare had lied about his connection to Mrs. Randall. “Can we not leave your sister out of this?”
Regan screamed and scrambled backward as Frost lunged for Dare and seized him by the front of his shirt. “You involved my sister the second you took her maidenhead.”
“It wasn’t his fault, Frost,” Regan said, her voice laced with desperation.
Her brother glanced over his shoulder at her. Regan looked very much as if she had been thoroughly ravished. Her long black hair was tousled, her lips red from Dare’s kisses, and she had not bothered with a corset. “Was it not? I asked Dare to look after you on my behalf. Not fuck you senseless.”
Regan cringed at her brother’s crudeness.
“Do you want an apology, Frost?” Dare demanded. “You have it. I should have never touched her. If you wanted to issue a formal challenge, I will accept. I deserve a bullet for what I have done.”
Frost bared his clenched teeth at Dare. “Why could you not keep your bloody cock in your trousers?”
“I seduced him,” Regan said quietly.
Dare and Frost glanced at her.
She brought her hand to her heart. “I am the one who is responsible. I planned to seduce Dare even before I had returned to London.”
“Regan.” Dare realized that she was willing to toss aside her pride if it would keep Frost from harming him.
Regan wrapped her arms across her breasts. “I wrote my goals in my diary. I can show you, if you like.”
Frost released Dare. “Childish games. All girls play them.”
Regan lifted her shoulder. “Perhaps. It still does not negate that I did everything I could to tempt him.”
“Do not listen to her,” Dare murmured. “She will say anything to keep us from fighting.” He did not need to hide behind Regan’s skirts. Her lack of faith in him was starting to annoy him.
“I see. So when is the wedding?” Frost asked.
Regan shot Dare a wary glance. “Well, I-I…”
Frost grinned evilly at Dare. “And what say you, my friend? Now that you have sampled marital bliss in the arms of my sister, are you prepared to give her your name?”
Knowing where this was heading, Dare’s face hardened.
“Dare?” Regan asked, confusion and hurt creeping into her voice.
“His silence should make his intentions clear enough for you, dear sister.” Frost placed his hands on Regan’s shoulders. His expression was not unkind when he explained, “Dare will never marry you.”
Her gaze sought out and locked onto his. “Is this true?”
He could not shake the feeling of being hunted. “You have met my family,” Dare said harshly, cursing Frost for putting him into the position of hurting Regan. “I have nothing to offer you, or any woman.”
Regan’s dark blue eyes had a glassy cast as she fought back her tears. “I see.”
Dare was half tempted to knock out Frost just so he would have a few minutes of privacy to speak with Regan. He was certain that he could make her understand why marriage was not something he contemplated.
Regan stepped away from her brother’s embrace. Knowing her, she was probably unhappy with both of them. “Thank you for your honesty, Dare,” she said, her face expressionless and pale. “Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I will retire.”
Dare knew he was in the wrong. His hands clenched impotently at his sides as he watched Regan leave the room. “You son of a bitch. Was that necessary?”
Frost picked up Regan’s untouched wine and brought it to his lips. “Yes. My sister fancies herself in love with you, Dare. A clean, sharp thrust is kinder all around since we both know you would never allow yourself to yield again to the maddening sentiment.” He sipped the wine.
“How can you be so certain?” Dare demanded belligerently.
His friend glanced away from the empty doorway, and Dare felt uncomfortable scrutiny of those knowing turquoise-blue eyes. “You and I are more alike than we care to admit.”
Dare brushed by his friend. “Go to hell, Frost.”
“Oh, one more thing,” Frost said, halting Dare’s departure. “You might find the limited accommodations at Nox more to your liking.”
Dare nodded brusquely. “I will leave immediately.”
“Trust me, it is for the best. I would regret putting a bullet in you, Dare, really I would. However, if you touch my sister again, I will overcome my distaste for the task.”
* * *
Regan lifted her tearstained face when she heard the soft knock at the door. She knew the man on the other side was not Dare. From the window, she had observed his departure from the residence. If he had sensed her presence, he had resisted the urge to glance up and offer a silent farewell.
The door to her bedchamber opened and closed. Regan counted her brother’s confident footfalls as he strode toward her bed.
“I thought you might be awake.”
He crouched down at her feet so she was forced to look at him. Regan stared, unmoved by the regret she saw in his eyes. Frost possessed the almost otherworldly masculine beauty of a fallen angel. This evening was proof that he had the devil in him.
“Have you come to gloat?” Regan brought the handkerchief to her damp cheek. “Congratulate me for making a fool of myself over Dare?”
Frost took her hand. “Dare sends his apologies, but he thought it best that he take up residence at Nox until he can find better accommodations.”
“No, you thought it best.” Regan sniffed. “Please, do not bother lying. Besides, it no longer matters. Dare is gone.”
Her brother sighed. “Your pain matters to me.”
Regan flinched when Frost unexpectedly seized her elbow and scowled at her upper arm. “You have been wounded. Why did you not tell me? How did this happen?”
It was uncharacteristic for her brother to fuss over an inconsequential scratch. Regan sighed. “Are you terribly disappointed in me?”
“Am I—?” Comprehension bled into his handsome face. Frost shook his head. “No, love, one youthful indiscretion has not turned you into our mother. I just wish that I had trusted Dare less, and paid closer attention. I thought his brief infatuation for you had faded when he started sniffing after the pretty widow.”
Mrs. Randall.
“So you did send me away because Dare kissed me!” she said, sounding indignant. “I knew I had been banished for that blasted kiss.”
“In part,” Frost admitted. “The day I had discovered you in Dare’s arms, Lady Karmack had been blistering my ears over my negligence with regard to you. She was concerned that you would end up a—”
“A courtesan,” Regan finished. “Lady Karmack voiced her concerns on numerous occasions. She feared that I would succumb to my wicked nature.”
The viscountess had been correct, after all.
“Or marry one of the Lords of Vice.” Frost retrieved a clean handkerchief from his waistcoat. Her brother despised a lady’s tears. He had often claimed that they were a cunning weapon to manipulate hapless fools. Regan remained motionless as Frost tenderly wiped away the evidence of her grief.
A surge of frustration washed through her at the outrageous suggestion that she had been nudging Dare toward marriage. She pounded her fist against her upper thigh. “I was not trying to trick Dare into marrying me.”
“Of course not.”
“I do not see you proposing marriage to every lady you tumble.” Regan jabbed her finger in her brother’s face. “And do not presume to tell me that different rules apply to gentlemen.”
Frost chuckled at her displeasure. He reached out, pulled her into his lap, and cuddled her as if she were a child. “But darling, they do, and you are too intelligent to dally with a gent who will only break your heart.”
“Are you telling me that Dare is incapable of love? Of marriage?”
“No,” Frost said in measured tones. “I am telling you that his heart belongs to the
one woman who will never be his. Marrying Dare would be disastrous.”
Chapter Twenty-two
A less optimistic man might have declared the night a complete disaster. The fact that he had exited Frost’s town house unscathed warranted a small amount of rejoicing.
He supposed he had Regan to thank for his good health. If the lady had demanded his head, Frost would have gladly fetched his sword.
Dare braced his boot against the empty bench and tried to get comfortable as the coachman drove him to Nox. Despite the late hour, the lower club rooms would be filled and perhaps the private rooms as well. He was not concerned about finding a bed. Berus would prepare a room for him. If Dare desired, the steward could procure one of Madame Venna’s girls to soothe his bruised pride, and to provide a distraction for the remaining hours of the night.
Dare intended to climb into bed alone. He did not want another woman, not when his body still ached from the hours he had dallied with Regan in his bed. The intoxicating musk of their lovemaking lingered on his skin and in his nostrils. Just as he had marked her delicate flesh, she had returned the favor. His left shoulder bore evidence of her sharp teeth, and his back was crisscrossed with long scratches made by her fingernails, the result of several powerful releases Dare had managed to wring from her body.
No, another female would not do. Nor did he want to sully the memory of his time with Regan. This evening, she had come to his bedchamber needing him as much as he needed her.
Not enough to marry her, his mind whispered, adding to his guilt.
Frost was within his rights to toss his arse out of the town house.
Had Regan been willing to risk her reputation to get him to come up to scratch? She had told Frost that she had intended to seduce Dare, and had written her goals in a damn diary. Had she been telling the truth, or had she lied to protect him from her brother’s wrath?
Dare ordered the coachman to halt as he recognized his surroundings. Nox was not far, and there was enough activity on the streets that he was not worried about footpads. He left his belongings in the coach. Berus would send someone to collect them later. The coachman gave him a wave of farewell, and Dare continued down the dimly lit street toward the club.
After Dark with a Scoundrel Page 15
