A Rake's Redemption

by Cynthia Breeding

  …

  Alex tried to ignore the curious glances Caroline kept giving him later that afternoon as she came to instruct Inis on acceptable topics for polite conversation. Inis appeared animated and her dialect much less pronounced, while he had been unusually quiet.

  They were in the front parlor where Caroline had rearranged various potted plants around the room to serve as “guests” that Inis was supposed to make polite comments to and then move on the next “group.” Since the point of the exercise was to promote proper dialogue and the plants couldn’t speak, Caroline had moved Alex around to stand beside the various containers to do the talking. When his remarks sounded stilted, Caroline had joined in, although she’d given him a quizzical look.

  She probably wondered what was wrong with him. He was rarely at a loss for words and he’d certainly mastered the art of saying profoundly nothing of value while being completely charming, but today his mind was drifting to more important matters.

  Why was Inis so intent on going to America?

  He knew she was spirited and independent minded, but did she truly crave such adventure? Many of England’s poor indentured themselves to Americans in need of skills and services, so it was possible she did want to seek a better life for herself, given that she was an orphan. Enduring insults at a ball might even seem a smaller price to pay than having to work for an unknown employer for a set period of years.

  The idea might even make sense since the States were more tolerant in what jobs a woman could hold. Keeping her on wasn’t really feasible, as much as Alex enjoyed Inis’s company. In the two months she’d been here, she’d not made any friends, with the possible exception of Elsie. The other maids practically wrinkled their noses when Inis entered a room. The stable boys tolerated her only because Alex had proclaimed her his hostler. Jameson grudgingly admitted she did know how to handle horses, but it was hardly an acceptable occupation for a female and certainly would keep her from being accepted by respectable ladies of the common class.

  He probably shouldn’t have offered to set her up in a small house. He should have known she would take it the wrong way, but damn it. Alex found himself in the strange predicament of wanting to provide for Inis. He should have known she’d be too proud to accept charity. Not that he was feeling totally charitable. He could envision visits that would begin very properly clothed, taking tea in the parlor, and end up in a tangled mass of bed sheets with both of them naked. It stung his pride to realize she probably had not even been thinking along those lines, let alone considering such a thing. It was somewhat of a shock to him that he was even considering it. Never in his life had he ever wanted a mistress. And he knew, instinctively, that with Inis it would never be a one-time thing. That fact should have scared him, but it didn’t.

  “Alexander?”

  He started at the sound of Caroline’s voice. “Yes?”

  She gave an exasperated sigh. “I swear, you have been woolgathering all afternoon. How am I supposed to be teaching Inis the art of meaningless conversation if you do not contribute?”

  He managed an engaging grin. “If it is meaningless, why is it important?”

  “Now you have turned into a philosopher?”

  His grin widened. “That is an interesting question, is it not?”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “Yes, Socrates, it is. For the moment, however, I am trying to introduce Lady Inis O’Brien to you.”

  Alex turned and bowed in Inis direction, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. “Enchanted, I am sure, my lady.”

  Inis made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a gurgle as he kissed her hand. As his mouth touched her skin, a distinct tingle ran through him and he realized that “enchanted” might be the word that applied to him.

  …

  “I will come back tomorrow so we can begin the dance lessons,” Caroline said as she prepared to take her leave a short time later.

  “Dance lessons?” Inis asked.

  Caroline smiled. “You do not expect to attend a ball and not dance, do you?” Inis paled and Caroline patted her hand, hoping the girl didn’t have two left feet. “It will be all right. I will make sure you know the steps.”

  Inis threw Alex a startled look. “I had thought we would be putting in an appearance, perhaps staying on the sidelines.”

  “Not a chance,” Caroline said. “The ladies practically line up to get Alex to sign their dance cards, but do not worry. I will make sure your card is full as well.”

  Inis’s face turned even chalkier. “I will have to dance all evening?”

  “It is expected to do at least one set.” Alex studied her. “Do you wish to withdraw from our agreement?”

  Inis worried her bottom lip and then finally shook her head. “No. I will do what I need to do.”

  Caroline glanced from one to the other, aware of some undercurrent, but not sure what it was. “Well,” she said brightly as she pulled on her gloves. “Until tomorrow then.”

  Her carriage waited in front of the house, the door open, the steps down. Caroline gave instructions to her driver before the footman helped her inside. As the carriage rolled away she wondered what in the world had been wrong with Alex this afternoon. He had been unusually subdued and lost in thought. The last bit of conversation between him and Inis was interesting, too. Or perhaps worrisome was a better word. Had Alex been reconsidering going through with his plan to put egg on George’s face?

  Caroline sat back on the squab. When Alex had first explained what he planned to do, she had thought the idea too bizarre to work, but the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of His Pompous-Ass Grace being totally mortified when he found out the truth a day or two later. Alex would probably wait until Inis was on her way to America before he informed his brother of the hoax, but Caroline intended to be there when he did.

  Initially, she’d had her doubts also about teaching Inis enough to be able to carry through, but she was proving to be an apt pupil. Caroline supposed Inis’s panicked reaction today was natural for someone who’d never attended a ball, let alone been expected to dance with aristocrats. But, between herself and Alexander, Inis would be prepared. The more of George’s friends that they could fool, the better.

  Caroline hoped Alexander wasn’t going to change his mind. It would ruin her own plans for revenge.

  The carriage rolled to a stop on Regent Street. Caroline stepped out and smoothed her skirt, then looked up at the coachman. “I shall not be long,” she said and then turned to walk into Madame DuBois’s modiste shop. She had an order to place for a negligee.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Late the next afternoon, Inis had entered the ballroom of Dansworth House for the dance lesson when she finally realized why Jameson had given her surly looks ever since lunch. He was standing at the far end of the room. The stable master had changed clothes and, if her eyesight wasn’t failing her, there was something around his neck that might have been a cravat.

  Evans, the butler, stood alongside him looking resigned as did Alex’s valet, Higgins. Near them, Elsie and Fern and Mrs. Bradley were clustered. Elsie’s eyes were round as an owl’s, although Fern and the housekeeper looked more composed.

  “What…” Inis started to ask, but was interrupted when Caroline walked in, followed by Alex.

  “Oh, good. You are all here,” Caroline said. “This will be such fun.”

  Elsie giggled, and Fern smiled, but the men looked like they’d rather be drawn and quartered, and Inis heard Alex chuckle behind her. She turned around. “Why is everyone here?”

  “Apparently, Caroline didn’t think she could teach you the quadrille without the proper four pairs,” Alex replied, “so she pressed the men into service.”

  “Do not worry,” Caroline said sotto voce, “none of these servants will gossip about your not knowing how to dance. Alex demands loyalty.”

  Inis inwardly cringed. She was going to owe Jameson a big favor for this. He had mentioned a time or two how much he ha
ted visiting his wife’s relatives who believed no evening’s entertainment was complete without rolling up the rugs and doing a few country dances. She wasn’t sure how Evans and Higgins felt, but judging from their expressions, they both felt this beneath their job descriptions. On the other hand, Mrs. Bradley and Elsie seemed elated and even Fern looked interested.

  “Is Caroline going to be giving all of us lasses lessons?” Inis asked.

  Alex shook his head. “Before Mrs. Bradley was widowed, she and her husband did a fair amount of entertaining themselves. She interviewed the maids to see which of them might have had some prior practice.”

  The quadrille was danced in Dublin, although Inis only attended the balls her uncle forced her to. As far as she was concerned, ballrooms were too crowded and lacked fresh air. The speed at which the quadrille and Irish reels were done by men and women overdressed in formal clothes soon left the room reeking of sweat and a mix of overly sweet perfumes. So, for once, she was not totally lying when she said she didn’t have experience. “I do hope I can master the steps.”

  “Do not worry. You will be paired with me first.” Alex gave her a wink. “Rakes are notoriously good dancers, you know.”

  The wink was totally improper, of course, but it made Inis smile. Alex was probably trying to put her at ease so she wouldn’t clobber all over his feet. He offered his arm as Caroline moved to the center of the ballroom and motioned for the rest of the entourage to come forward. She positioned everyone and borrowed Alex to walk through the first figure, then had the other three couples repeat it while Inis watched. Caroline did the same with the remaining four parts of the dance while Inis took note of the footwork, her concentration only partly feigned. She definitely did not want to step on Alex’s feet nor did she want to trip over them and go sprawling.

  “All right,” Caroline said when everyone had completed the walk-through and she took her place at the pianoforte. “Let us try the first figure to ‘Le Pantalon.’”

  At least the song was a familiar one and Caroline played it in the slower 2/4 time rather than the regular 6/8 which kept the mistakes to a minimum. And Alex was right. He was a superb dancer and led expertly, lifting Inis’s arm a bit ahead of time to warn of a twirl and angling her hand slightly to indicate which direction she was to turn. She even managed not to mar his polished boots. She didn’t fare quite as well with the other men when they moved to a Scottish reel, but then she suspected they weren’t overly interested in performing well. Jameson growled at her as they did a passé, although he kept his face impassive. The stiff expressions Evans and Higgins wore slowly changed to winces and grimaces as Elsie—and Fern to a lesser extent—stomped through the steps.

  Even Alex was looking a little worse for the wear when Caroline finally stopped playing a half an hour later. There were scuff marks on his boots and his cravat was askew, probably from a flailing arm or two.

  “Does everyone need a rest before we go on?” Caroline asked.

  Inis thought she heard a collective groan from the men, but it might have been her imagination. At any rate, she didn’t want to try Jameson’s temper any longer. “I think I have the steps learned,” she said.

  “I think you do, too.” Alex nodded toward the men. “You may return to your tasks.”

  Inis wasn’t sure if Alex thought she had, but he might have been wanting to save his toes from more torture. In any case, Jameson, Evans, and Higgins lost no time in heading for the door. If it weren’t so undignified, Inis was sure they would have broken into a run. The maids lingered until Mrs. Bradley reminded them they still had chores as well.

  “Well, I had better change,” Inis said after they’d all left. “I have work to do in the stable.” She was sure that work would involve a lot of mucking out all of the stalls, given Jameson’s dour expression earlier.

  “Oh, we are not quite finished,” Alex said.

  Inis looked at him questioningly. So he hadn’t thought she’d mastered the steps? “If you thought I needed more practice, why did you dismiss everyone?”

  He grinned. “We do not need additional people to practice the waltz.”

  The waltz? The scandalous dance from France had not yet arrived in Dublin, although Inis had heard it had been introduced in London. She shouldn’t be surprised that Alex knew the steps; he did say rakes were good dancers. “I have never done a waltz.” At least, this time she was being totally truthful.

  “It is rather easy,” Alex said. “Just three steps, then another three to form a box.”

  Caroline smiled. “I have a perfect piece by Mozart that I have been practicing…the ‘Sussex Waltz.’ I will play a few bars so you can hear the cadence.”

  Inis tilted her head to listen. “I can definitely hear a ‘one, two, three’ in the music.”

  “Quite so,” Alex said and moved closer. “Now, the position is like this.” He placed Inis’s left hand on his shoulder and circled her waist with his right arm while he took her other hand in his.

  It was as though she were wrapped in a warm cocoon filled with Alex’s scent. The shoulder her fingers rested on felt like a marble sculpture beneath the superfine cloth of his coat and the arm at her waist was equally firm. Sensation flooded her. Although there was space between them, she was aware that her nipples had hardened and strained against her fitted bodice. She suppressed a strange urge to press against Alex’s broad, hard chest and relieve the sudden achiness of them. Alex’s fingers splayed along her lower back as he drew her marginally nearer to begin the dance, and the same dull throbbing from her breasts travelled to a suddenly damp place between her thighs.

  Sweet Mary, what was happening to her?

  Miraculously, her feet were moving—dancing—without any conscious effort, due to Alex’s expert maneuvering of the steps. It was a good thing rakes were good dancers, since she didn’t think she was capable of coherent thought at the moment. She was too aware of Alex’s strong arms around her and every nerve ending tingling in her body as they turned and swayed to the slow, sensual notes of the waltz.

  Inis blinked when she finally realized they were no longer moving. The music had stopped, although Alex still held her. His green eyes had turned dark as a night forest and were focused on her mouth. She had the oddest compulsion to kiss him. Her lips were unusually dry, and she instinctively licked them. Alex made a sound low in his throat that sounded like a growl before he quickly released her and stepped back. At his abrupt movement, the blanket-like warmth left her as though someone had opened a door to let winter in.

  Caroline was watching them curiously. “Do you want me to play another waltz?”

  “I think we have had enough dancing for one day,” Alex said. “Miss O’Brien obviously has natural talent.”

  It wasn’t talent; it was him. Inis had floated in his arms, her movements totally aligned to his. Her body had felt boneless and weightless, her mind empty of thought save for the close oneness with Alex. She bit her lip as her cheeks grew warm. How silly could a girl get? Alex had practically jumped away from her just now. Had he seen desire written on her face? Her fanciful imagination had taken flight like a faerie flitting among primroses. To Alex, this had been a practice waltz. Nothing more. A means to an end. He wasn’t interested in kissing a groom.

  “Thank ye, my lord.”

  One of his eyebrows rose, but he didn’t comment on her manner of address. Instead, he simply nodded. “You are excused.”

  Inis didn’t trust her voice to respond so she nodded, too, and turned toward the door. As she left, she told herself she would be wise to remember what her role was. To allow herself to fall for Alex’s rakish charms—and he was proud of being a rake—would be disastrous. Really disastrous.

  Leaving for the States once this debacle was over seemed like a better and better solution.

  …

  “Do not say a word,” Alex said to Caroline after Inis left the ballroom.

  Caroline gathered her sheet music. “What did you think I would say?”
/>
  “You were about to remark on the dance lesson, no doubt.”

  An amused expression crossed her face. “Which part? The part where Inis was floating on air?”

  “She was not floating,” Alex grumbled. “She just does not weigh much more than a sack of feathers.”

  “Ah, yes. That would account for why you had to hold her so close. She might go airborne if you did not.”

  “I was not…” Alex stopped, knowing full well he had held Inis much closer than was socially acceptable. That her breasts brushed against his chest when they turned proved it. There should never be direct contact other than hand positions. But Inis had felt so good, the hardened nubs of her nipples pressing through his shirt and causing a part of him to grow hard, too. She had fit into his embrace perfectly with her soft, gentle curves. He could still smell the heather scent of the soap she used to wash her hair. “I wanted to make sure she could follow the steps.”

  “If you say so.” Caroline put her music into a satchel. “Just remember what kind of impression you want to make at George’s ball.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you want to present Inis as a visiting lady or as someone you are courting?”

  Alex frowned. “I am not courting anyone.”

  “Well, it certainly looked like it from the way the two of you were waltzing.” Caroline considered him. “Inis might be a good choice for you. She is not aristocracy, but you don’t care about that anyway. Have you even considered marrying?”

  “No.” Alex nearly bit the word out and forced a smile. “Sorry. I did not mean to snap. I think you and I have been burned a bit too closely.”

  Pain flicked through Caroline’s eyes and then disappeared. “As you said, George and Amelia deserve each other. An ice queen married to a man with a glacier for a heart.”

  “Aptly put.” Alex gave her a veiled look. “Have you considered marrying?”

  There was that fleeting glimpse of pain again. Alex was about to apologize for asking when Caroline shook her head.

  “I have not thought about it since George…” She stopped. “Well, that is water over the dam and under the bridge and all that. To answer your question, no.”