The Rake's Proposition

by Bess Greenfield

  At the press of his arousal against her abdomen, her desire burned fiercely. She arched against him, clinging to his broad shoulders. His hands swept up her fitted jacket to cup and tease her breasts until she ached for the feel of his skin touching hers once again. “You’ll come to me tonight after they’ve all gone to sleep?” she whispered eagerly.

  His warm breath in her ear made her shiver with anticipation even before he replied, “No more waiting.” Then he lifted and cradled her body in his arms and brought her down with him onto the carpet of white flowers.

  Chapter Twenty

  Claudine awoke with a sense of discomfort. Leo’s hard shoulder made a poor pillow. As her eyes adjusted to the late afternoon sunshine streaming into their compartment, she recalled Alex’s surgery and afterward boarding a train bound for Newport. Aware of curious eyes upon her, she sat upright and adjusted her skirts on the tufted velvet cushioned bench. “Where are we?”

  Leo smoothed back a loose tendril from her cheek. “Connecticut.” There were faint circles under his eyes, and a slight beard shadowed his chiseled jaw. Probably, he hadn’t taken the time to shave this morning. They had all been very anxious. “You fell asleep shortly after we left Grand Central Depot,” he said softly.

  She could see why. The train rocked like a cradle, and she’d scarcely slept at all last night due to worries about the outcome of Alex’s surgery and excitement about her forthcoming marriage. Leo smelled as usual of lavender bergamot soap and exotic spices. She thought about their tryst in his garden the night before and feared she was blushing. It seemed wrong to feel any happiness at all in light of her cousin’s troubles, but she could do nothing to suppress the thrill of knowing she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man of her dreams.

  Alex and Madame Barnett, seated opposite, watched them with bemused fascination. Alex’s hand was heavily bandaged, and his arm was immobilized in a sling. The surgery had been lengthy and delicate, but Doctor Dixon seemed optimistic about the results.

  Alex lowered the novel he’d been holding in one hand, dropping all pretense of reading. “It may take me a while to accept the idea of the two of you as a couple. There’s quite an age gap.”

  Leo placed his hand over hers. She tried hard to appear unaffected as a thrill fluttered through her. “Seven years is of no consequence,” he said.

  “Now, maybe,” Alex persisted. The dashing striped necktie they’d bought for him contrasted to ill effect with his pallor. “I just keep thinking about the past. She was practically an infant when you first met her.”

  “I assure you I had no interest in her at all until recently.”

  Claudine’s ears burned, but she kept her face expressionless. “Nor I. We were at different stages of life during those years.” She vowed never to tell Leo about her infatuation. Alex’s lips quirked with amusement. She sent him a warning glare to drop the subject.

  “Claudine told me you compose popular music now,” Leo said smoothly.

  Alex’s expression turned bleak. “That was an aberration, a chapter of my life best forgotten.”

  “But your ballads were wildly successful,” Claudine reminded him. “This could be a new career for you.”

  “I know of a few different music publishing companies in Tin Pin Alley,” Leo added. “Shall I set up some appointments?”

  That veneer of amiability returned to Alex’s manner. “Why not? I suppose I’ll need to bring a two-handed pianist with me.”

  “It’s the music they care about, not the performance,” Leo said.

  Alex nodded pleasantly, mechanically. Claudine’s thoughts drifted to the senselessness of the violence done to her cousin, and she simply could not remain seated. “I’m famished, and I believe there’s a dining car attached to this train. Who would like to assist in my investigation of the matter?”

  Leo looked up at her. “We should be in Newport in an hour or two. The kitchen staff is planning a formal dinner.”

  “They must be excited to have something to do,” Madame Barnett commented without looking up from her knitting.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Leo asked wearily.

  “Why does a man need a house he doesn’t have time to live in?”

  It pained Claudine to listen to them quibble as they did. “I’m afraid I can’t wait for dinner.”

  Alex rose as well. “You mustn’t wander about the train alone. I’ll go with you.” The train shifted upon the track, and he stumbled but quickly regained his balance.

  “It takes a while to get used to having only one arm free,” Leo said.

  “When were you without an arm?” Madame Barnett asked, finally looking up.

  Leo shrugged. “A number of times during my circus days.”

  “You were a circus entertainer? Well, at least you left Harvard due to a worthwhile pursuit.”

  “You surely knew that already. That part of my history has been widely reported in articles about me.”

  Madame Barnett looked up at Claudine. “My son expects me to read articles about him because he can’t be bothered to speak to me in person.”

  “I speak to you all the time,” Leo said.

  “If every other month is all the time, then yes.” She again spoke to Claudine as though no one else were present. “He was such a help to me when he was young. I used to think he’d take over the directorship someday or become an advocate for those with no voice in the justice system, but apparently he felt another calling. In the circus.”

  Now Claudine felt guilty for attempting to abandon her fiancé. “Would anyone else care to join us?”

  No one answered. Leo looked out the window while his mother resumed her knitting with a ferocious clicking of needles.

  “We’ll see you in a short while then,” Claudine said with forced cheer.

  “They’re loads of laughs, aren’t they?” Alex said when they escaped the strained silence of their compartment a minute later.

  “That cannot continue.”

  “I know you can’t resist trying to repair their relationship, but I have the sense that bitterness has been brewing for years.”

  “All the more reason to put an end to it.”

  “I wish you luck.”

  The dining car offered a very limited menu, but it was stylishly furnished with brocade curtains, ornate paneling, globe lamps, tufted velvet benches, and tables draped in white linen. A uniformed waiter wearing a flat cap brought them tea and a tiered arrangement of pastries, and they talked about old times as they sampled the rich assortment.

  Claudine was trying very hard to avoid the subjects of Odette, Alex’s hand, or his future as a composer. She didn’t want to spoil the spirit of hope and positivity she was trying so hard to foster. Occasionally, he would grin at some silly remembrance of their childhood, but the weight of those taboo topics still bore down heavily upon them, and their overly sunny conversation about the past gradually petered out.

  They both watched the countryside pass by through the large curtained window. The cow pastures, windmills, and clapboard village stores made her think of her mother. She’d been born in such surroundings in upstate New York, spent an unhappy adolescence in Manhattan, and then found happiness in Paris. It struck Claudine that she’d made the same journey, only in the opposite direction.

  “Pardon me, but I have to ask… Aren’t you Alexandre Valencourt, the pianist?” The voice was deferential and feminine, and the speech pattern was highly refined.

  They both looked up at the woman standing by their table, a slender brunette wearing a mint and white satin striped dress and a wide brimmed hat bedecked with white flowers and billowing plumes. Her small mouth, dainty nose, glowing complexion, and full cheeks gave her a youthful appearance, but her poise suggested she might be in her mid-twenties. Her sea green eyes riveted upon Alex.

  “Yes,” he said too curtly.

  Claudine smiled warmly at the woman, who could not have known why the subject was a painful one for him. “I’m his
cousin, Claudine. Allow me to introduce you.”

  “Oh.” Her white glove rested upon her pink lips for a moment. “I fear I’ve been unforgivably forward. It’s just that I admire you so very much, sir. You moved me to tears when I heard you play last spring and raised my spirits at a difficult time. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me.” Her lovely wide eyes glimmered with emotion.

  Alex’s gaze lingered upon the woman’s pretty face. “Thank you. Your praise touches me deeply, but it distresses me to hear you ever experienced a difficult time.”

  His interest did not escape Claudine’s notice, and a vague plan began to take shape in her mind. Perhaps she could play matchmaker between her troubled cousin and this extraverted American. “We’re not ones to stand upon formality, Miss…?”

  “… Mrs. Horton… Olivia Horton,” she added, looking lost for a moment.

  “Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Horton,” Claudine replied, disappointed by the quick demise of her plan.

  The woman noticed Alex’s bandaged hand. “I see you’ve had an accident. No wonder you haven’t been performing lately. I’ll admit I’ve been waiting for you to return to Carnegie Hall.”

  Alex stared at the teapot.

  “Will you be staying in Newport long?” Claudine asked quickly.

  Reluctantly, the woman shifted her focus away from Alex. “Oh, yes. For at least month. It’s a family tradition. We used to go there every summer while my husband was alive, and I try to do everything just the same even though it’s not… the same.” That lost look returned.

  Alex seemed as surprised as Claudine by this disclosure. Mrs. Horton looked too young to be a widow. In any case, the plan revived. “We’ll be there for a few weeks at least,” Claudine said.

  The other woman’s round face brightened. “Do you have a house there?”

  “My fiancé does,” she said, feeling at once strange and thrilled to make such a claim. “It’s called Peregrine Point.”

  The woman’s eyes lit with amazement. “You are engaged to the elusive Mr. Barnett? He’s quite the subject of speculation in Newport.”

  Claudine was dying to know the nature of this gossip, but she was careful to keep her tone even. “Positive, I hope.”

  “I suppose that would depend upon one’s personal views. I, for one, appreciate colorful characters. Newport can be so mundane at times.”

  Claudine could not contain her curiosity. “What have you heard?”

  “It’s so ridiculous I feel silly repeating it.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a barely audible level. “I heard he used to be employed as a trapeze artist in the circus.”

  Claudine exhaled in relief. “Oh, that. Yes, he was a circus performer years ago. Now he’s just a stodgy businessman. He probably spread those rumors himself to make himself seem more interesting.”

  “It certainly did pique my interest. What fascinating stories he must tell. I can’t wait to make his acquaintance… You must all come to Brighton Cottage for my house party this weekend. It will be very informal. All you need is a bathing costume and something to wear for evening. We’ll have dancing, of course. Show up any time after noon on Saturday. My friends are late sleepers, and they’re far more entertaining at night.”

  It all sounded overwhelming for someone who’d just had surgery and now faced a long, painful recovery. Indeed, Leo did not look in the least bit inclined to participate.

  Again, Mrs. Horton touched her lips. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I? I’m afraid I’m quite hopeless at following the rules of etiquette. I know it’s sudden, and it’s not the thing to invite recent acquaintances to one’s home, but Mr. Barnett is my neighbor, and Mr. Valencourt is already well known by all.” She treated Alex to another worshipful look. “We’d all be so honored if you could make even the briefest appearance.”

  Again, Claudine noted that curious we. “I don’t think my cousin is feeling well enough for such activities.”

  “Nonsense. I’d love to,” Alex said.

  Claudine stared at him in surprise.

  The pretty widow clasped her gloved hands together with a muffled clap. “Wonderful! I can’t wait to tell mother. She loves meeting new people.”

  “Are you certain this won’t be too much for you?” Claudine asked Alex when they were alone again.

  “I’m sick to death of being treated like an invalid, and I haven’t been among people for months. I miss it.”

  This only added to her worry, but maybe the occasion was just what he needed. Miss Horton would distract him from all that pained him, physically and mentally. Alex liked adoration. He needed it. “Perhaps you’re right. It would be good for you to be out in society once again and make new friends. That woman is half in love with you, I suspect.”

  “I’m through with love. Love makes people do stupid things.”

  “Sometimes. But love can also heal and allow you to see the world in a different way. Just because you had one dreadful experience doesn’t mean you’ll have another. Odette is not a typical woman.”

  “Please never speak her name again.”

  Claudine nodded and silently vowed to broach the subject when he was healthier. In her experience, burying bad feelings only made them more destructive. She inched sideways to get up from the table. “We’d better inform the others.” She waited for him to join her, but he remained seated. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “No, thank you. I far prefer the peaceful atmosphere of the dining car.” He glanced down the aisle to the end of the car where Mrs. Horton chatted in animated fashion with an older woman. He was clearly interested in the lady, no matter what he said.

  Claudine felt more hopeful than ever as she made her way back through the narrow corridor to their compartment. She couldn’t wait to tell Leo about the party, but he was sleeping when she returned. His mother was gone.

  She tried not to wake him, but he awoke the moment the she closed the door behind her. “It’s my beautiful wife,” he said groggily, stretching in the sunlight.

  “We’re not married yet,” she pointed out as she snuggled beside him.

  His hands swept into her hair and tilted her head so he could trail teasing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “It feels like we are.”

  She giggled at the ticklish sensation but soon became breathless when his kisses grew more passionate. It took a great deal of effort to turn and face him. “There is something I must speak to you about.”

  The look on his face told her he had no intention of talking. “Later,” he said in a low, urgent tone. His thumbs slid along the underside of her jaw as his mouth slanted over hers. For several disorienting minutes, she was aware of nothing but his scent, his taste, the hard pressure of his lips, the gentle scrape of his teeth, and the friction of their tongues melding.

  His hand slid inside her fitted green jacket and cupped her breast over her blouse. His clever fingers found and toyed with her nipple until her other breast ached from neglect. When a whimper escaped her lips, she abruptly pulled away. “Are you mad? Your mother could open that door at any moment.”

  He looked dazed as he watched her try to cool her cheeks with her hands and slow her breathing. “You certainly know how to extinguish a mood.”

  She put more distance between them by moving to the opposite bench. “Someone needed to do so.” Blood still pounded in her ears and lower. This lack of privacy was torture. She pressed her legs together and tried to think of something else. “Where has your mother gone?”

  “One can only hope she disembarked and caught a train moving in the opposite direction.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, she pecks at me like a demented hen.”

  His characterization made her grin, just a little, because it was so accurate. “I’ll admit she seems displeased with your career choices.”

  He snorted. “I can do nothing to please her.”

  “You’ve wounded her with your coldness.
I can’t believe you’ve never invited her to your cottage.”

  “You’ll soon see why.”

  “She’s hurt and resentful because you cut her out of your life without explanation.” It was a relief to have no secrets left between them; she could be as direct as she chose to be. “You have to tell her about Wendell and Helen Treadway.”

  He looked out the window at a passing dairy farm. “I could not begin to speak of such things to my mother. She would be appalled.”

  “Don’t be so certain. Your mother is one of the most modern, forward thinking women I know. Have you forgotten that she once lived a bohemian life as a painter’s model?”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten a thing about those years.”

  His dark tone reminded her once again that he did not look back fondly upon his childhood. “You must tell her. I think she’d understand and be proud of how you succeeded despite the wrongs done to you. I would have no trouble explaining the incident to her, but I won’t say a word without your permission.”

  The train screeched as the brakes scraped against the steel tracks. A suitcase on the shelf above launched toward her. She leaned back to avoid it. In nearly the same moment, Leo leaped up to shield her from the projectile with his body.

  She cringed at a loud clunk followed by a grunt. The luggage had probably fallen upon him. He didn’t move for several seconds. With his weight pressing down upon her, she could feel his rapid heartbeat against her chest and his hard abdominal muscles against her pelvis. His mouth burrowed against her nape, and her breath came fast. Confusion and shock gave way to a powerful wave of lust. They were right back in the same predicament. “Don’t even consider it. Let me up,” she demanded.

  “I would, but your leg is wrapped around mine.”