The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  With that happy thought, he straightened his cuffs, inspected himself in the pier glass one last time, and went downstairs.

  He strode into the dining room with his letters, and came to an abrupt halt. For sitting there at the dining table, dressed in an elegant russet gown which set off her dark hair to perfection, was none other than the one woman he was determined to turn the Town upside down looking for.

  Belle.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "What are you doing here!" he gasped, hastening over to the chair to grasp Belle's arm as she sat at the dining table.

  Never mind that he had thought of nothing else but Belle ever since she had left the inn. Had come back to London expressly to find her. And the fact that she was more lovely even than he remembered.

  Panic made him harsh once more.

  "Is this some sort of game to discredit me, blackmail me over what happened on the road?"

  She stared at Blake in open-mouthed horror. "What are you doing here! Are you trying to follow me, finish what you started? Unhand me, sir!" she said, struggling to free herself.

  "Don't take me for a fool, Belle. You know full well why I'm here. I live here. You've come barging into my home, in front of my servants, insinuated yourself-"

  A bubble of hysterical laughter burst forth from her lips. She sat back down heavily, stunned.

  "No, it can't be. It can't…" she gasped in dismay.

  All of his thoughts of taking her as a mistress, marrying her, fled in the face of his conviction that she was dishonest, and had duped and tricked him in some way. She had not staged the accident, of course, but everything else she had done had been designed to entice him. To get him to commit some indiscretion.

  He simply had to get rid of her before she did exactly that, despite him knowing what she was…

  "What are you talking about? You must leave, Belle! This is a respectable household. I have a young ward coming in a few days' time, the step-sister of a friend, and this will never, ever do. What we shared was a remarkable experience, truly.

  "But it was a momentary aberration, no more. You must forget it ever happened, as perforce must I. You're so young. You need to get back on the straight and narrow. Stop this folly before you live to regret it!"

  Belle stared at him again, certain now there was no mistake. She laughed again, and did the only thing she could think of. She fell forward in a dead faint.

  The bottle of sal volatile under her nose brought her around soon enough. Too soon so far as she was concerned. Oblivion was what she really desired. Anything rather than have to face the truth.

  She found herself stretched on the chaise longue in the little gold sitting room.

  Dr. Sanderson's face was a mask of impassivity as she looked up at him.

  "Feeling better now?" he asked abruptly.

  She could scarce find her tongue. At last she replied, "Not really."

  "Well, no matter. I have to go out shortly. You can't stay here."

  "Please, Dr. Sanderson, we have to talk," she said as she struggled to sit up.

  "You and I can have nothing to say to each other, Madame. I don't know what sort of Banbury tale you told Travis to get into the house, but--"

  "You don't understand. Please, just listen to me! Listen!" she cried, at her wit's end. "This is all a dreadful misunderstanding."

  "Yes, and you've made it, Miss, if you think you can extort money from me for what happened at the inn. I never pressed my advances--"

  "Please! Stop this now. You must listen!" She took a deep breath. "I can't believe this has happened to us either. The plain fact is that for good or ill, Dr. Sanderson, you're my new guardian. I'm Arabella Neville, your friend Peter Davison's step-sister."

  At his look of complete disbelief and contempt she plunged on ahead. "I was rushing up to Town to see my step-brother before he left for India, when the coach accident occurred and you found me in the road. You took me to the inn and well, nursed me.

  "By the time I got here to London, though, Peter had already set sail. He had told me someone would come to see me to explain everything, our solicitor. I made my way to Mr. Brown's offices, but he won't be back until the third of this month. His clerk gave me this address as the address of my new guardian.

  "Since I had been travelling for days and was injured, and my brother's chambers had to be vacated, I thought it best if I came here to join this household rather than go all the way back home and wait. We could sort out the moving of my things and the closing of the property later.

  "I was told that you were the heir to the entire Jerome fortune, and your servants said to call you Mr. Blake. I had no idea that you of all people lived here. You introduced yourself as Dr. Sanderson. How could I possibly have seen any connection?

  "When I arrived, your servants were expecting me, and have been most kind. They never made any mention of your profession, or surname. All has been very pleasant here, with me mostly staying in my room tending to correspondence, or out shopping with the maid Betsey."

  She sighed. "I'm sorry if you thought I was trying to continue our acquaintanceship in a way which is evidently so distasteful to you. Or that I am a woman out for personal gain from you in any way. I thank you for my comfortable chamber and hospitality. I don't wish to be a burden, but I don't know what to do now either. This is all shocking and most distressing for us both. But bitterness and recrimination will avail us nothing at this point. What has been doe cann't be undone, Dr. Sanderson. The plain fact is that my brother Peter has left you in charge of me, and we need to try to get along."

  Blake shook his head, completely horrified at what she had told him. "Surely you realize that this is impossible. I remember you as a small child with a curly mop of hair, a little gipsy of a thing. How could Peter think a bachelor like myself could possibly cope with, with--"

  He swept his hands downwards, indicating her person. "A young lady such as yourself. Every buck in the Ton is going to be after you for your face and fortune. That is assuming of course that I can cope with the demands of society. I am a bachelor, as you know, with a profession which does not permit me the luxury of a great deal of free time. I work all sorts of unpredictable hours, whenever people need me.

  "You know of my work with the ladies at the special charitable clinic. To have you living here with me, even as a ward, will excite comment and suspicion whether we wish it to or not."

  He began to pace in front of her like a caged panther. "No, it is out of the question. I shall speak to Mr. Brown about Peter's intentions, and see if other arrangements cannot be made."

  "Surely you are not going to fob me off on someone even more of a stranger than you are?" she gasped.

  "Better a stranger than the man who almost-"

  Arabella shot him such a reproachful look that Blake did not dare finish the sentence.

  "I shall never speak of it again if you do not," she said tremulously. "Now that we know what we are to each other, we must forget it ever happened. Please, I do not hold it against you so much as myself. You have taught me a great deal. You can see the dangers. You know what I nearly became."

  She turned large, pleading blue eyes to his grim face. "Please, Dr. Sanderson, I need your protection, if only from myself. I need to know that when I marry I am making the right decision, a careful, reasoned choice. I know I've sinned. I want to be better. Surely you can understand that, you who sin yourself with your, um, friend, but always aspire to do better."

  He scowled at her reminder of his unguarded actions and his resultant candor at the inn. "So we are to make a pact of celibacy then," he laughed bitterly, "you and I? After we've pleasured each other? So nearly become lovers in every way? The idea is mad."

  "Not mad. No, not mad at all. It can work."

  He stared at her incredulously. "How on earth-"

  "Just think of yourself as my doctor as well as my guardian. What was it you said? Fresh air and exercise and cold baths. Trying to engage in useful activities which will take
my mind off these desires I have been having. I haven't had any more recently, but that is not to say I shall not backslide. I need you to help me reform my character. Teach me. Help me to be a good wife and mistress of a household."

  His manner was brusque. "I know nothing of either. I am a bachelor."

  "Surely you had a mother-"

  He scowled so fiercely she gasped.

  "I'm sorry, Doctor! I merely meant that you would understand what my role was to be based upon-"

  "I understand, but it's not possible," he said in a cold tone.

  She looked at the raw emotions on his face and said tentatively, "I'm sorry if I have spoke ill-advisedly. My only excuse is that I'm very young and foolish. I would like to be better, though. I would like to learn, be a help to you. Even at the clinic-"

  "Unacceptable for a girl like yourself."

  She looked at him sharply and said with a lift of her chin, "Unacceptable for girls even younger than me to have to be treated there, but it's a fact of life, is it not?"

  He sighed, and sat back in his chair. "Aye, a sad fact indeed."

  "Well, then. Perhaps it will be the best thing in the world for me to work there, as a salutary reminder of what my fate could have been, or may even be, if I do not conduct myself in an appropriate manner and curb my lascivious nature."

  Blake shot her a look of surprise and anger. "You really are serious about this, aren't you? You honestly want me to be your guardian? After everything that has happened between us?"

  She shrugged. "Peter would never have entrusted me to your care if he did not think you were equal to the task. If he did not trust you implicitly to look after me, Doctor. I have no idea what his precise reasons were. He was in desperate case, receiving such last minute orders to ship out so far away, and so quickly. He did the only thing he could think of in the circumstances. This was his first instinct, to trust you, and his instincts about people are generally sound."

  "That is true. He was desperate, but he is clever for all that."

  She nodded. "After all you've done and told me, I think you're an honest and decent person, sir. I wish to be one as well. We will never speak of what happened at the inn again. Those were two different people. Strangers on the road. It was a wonderfully pleasurable experience, but no harm was done by either of us so far as I can see, and it will never happen again.

  "You and I are guardian and ward. As such we will have a decent and respectable relationship until such time as Peter comes home, I attain my majority, or you give me permission to wed.

  "Until such time as any of those three events occur, you shall educate me as you see fit. Discipline me as a person who cares for my well-being and does not wish any harm to befall me. Does this seem fair?"

  Blake expelled his breath in a rush, his heart hammering in his chest, his loins surging despite his telling himself it was unthinkable.

  "It's a huge responsibility, one I would take seriously for the sake of your good self and the love I bear for my friend, your step-brother. But I'm not so sure I'm up to the task. My life is in a state of flux at the moment."

  She looked at him inquiringly.

  He unbent enough to cease his stiff pacing and sit down in a chair opposite her. "I have just been made heir to a large estate in Somerset, the Jeromes', just as you were told at Mr. Brown's. I will need to spend some time there as well. I can't leave you in Town. However, I'm not sure of my reception in what is supposed to eventually be my new home."

  "You do not have to look out for me every moment of the day and night. I am no toddler, sir, though your memory has played tricks upon you and made time stand still since we last saw one another. I can help you, Doctor. At least let me try. I am told I am not without some sense. And my mathematical ability is highly praised."

  "Your brother did say he thought you would be of assistance to me in the household. I dismissed the notion at the time, assuming you were very young. But as I have prescribed good sensible activities, perhaps I shall take Peter's suggestion."

  "You mean I can stay?" she said with a relieved smile.

  "For the moment at least," he said, trying not to look at her bright eyes, her lovely face. Good God, she was a tempting little thing…

  For Heaven's sake, he had wanted to make her his mistress, been all set to look for her for that express purpose. He had actually planned to try to ruin her. He, of all people. The sister of one of his dearest friends. What on earth was wrong with him!

  But he was her guardian now. And however fearful he was of his own rampaging desires, he feared those of others more. What would have happened to her had someone else come along at the site of the carriage wreck? He shuddered to think.

  No, hard as it was to imagine sharing his life with the gorgeous Arabella Neville under the same roof, even more unthinkable was to turn her away when she had pleaded for his help.

  He considered her question for a moment longer, and averred once more, "Yes, Miss Neville, I shall allow you to stay for the time being. At least until we get to see Mr. Brown and discuss matters with him further, and see what other options we might have.

  "But before you go thanking me," he added quickly, seeing the relief light her lovely face, "we must be clear on a few matters. Firstly, you will respect my wishes in all things, and you will follow my instructions to the letter. I am Dr. Blake Sanderson. You will address me as Dr. Sanderson.

  "Secondly, your paying calls and visits to soirees and balls will have to be restricted if I'm busy with my work. I believe I have found you a suitable chaperone for the times I cannot be with you and something urgent comes up. Finally, you will do me the courtesy of confiding in me if you feel yourself forming any sort of particular friendship or attachment. I will not have scandal attached to both our names by your eloping. Your step-brother would never, ever forgive either of us."

  She nodded with alacrity. "I know this. I shall not. My happiness rests in your hands. I shall seek your permission fairly to marry, and not behave in a furtive manner."

  His laughter at this remark had an unpleasant edge to it. "I have no doubt you will do exactly that, so my fourth rule is not to lie to me, Miss Neville, and not make me any promises you can't keep. I know young men well enough, you see. The stolen kisses, secret meetings in shadowy alcoves at balls. I was young once too. But there is a difference between mild flirtation and going too far. I hope you now know the difference."

  She nodded. "I do indeed, Dr. Sanderson. I'm very grateful that you saved me from myself," she said with a shiver of barely suppressed desire as she recalled the way she had felt in his arms, and a shudder of fear that she really was an evil person.

  "And I do not lie, sir. You were candid with me on the road. I admired that, even if it was painful for both of us. Therefore you may expect the same forthrightness from me. There is little point in asking for your help and protection if I then refuse to avail myself of it. If I stubbornly go my own way, to perdition or my own ruination, now is there?"

  She looked so wounded, so shocked by this unexpected and incredible turn of events, he wanted more than anything to reach out and take her hand to comfort her. But that would be certain doom.

  It would be a cataclysmic upheaval in his life, acceding to her request. Allowing her to remain under his roof, so close, just down the hall from his own room, when he wanted her so...

  He stood up from the chair and began to pace once more, before moving to the window to stare out of it moodily. He knew her remarkable blue-violet eyes were resting upon him with consternation. He could not look at her, or else he would be lost.

  It was madness to have her stay. But even more mad to let Arabella leave. He simply couldn't let her go out into the cold cruel world without being better prepared for it.

  Even if she did manage to marry well, marriage was not always a bed of roses. Men could be cruel, foolish, callous. She could be widowed, become ill. There were a million and one things which could go wrong. He couldn't protect her from all of them, any mo
re than he could protect the women in his clinic. But he could at least educate them. Give them somewhere to go when they had no one else to turn to.

  He turned from the window and sighed.

  She smiled up at him tremulously.

  "I confess to being rather at a loss, Miss Neville. I agree to serve as your guardian. I admit this isn't going to be easy. However, it will be what we make of it. We shall just have to do our best to take each day as it comes. I need to think a bit more about your role in my household and how I may best look after you and your interests."

  "Whatever you think best."

  "Not just me, though. I would like you to have some independence."

  Her eyes widened. At last, someone who believed women were not mere chattel.