How to Ravish a Rake

by Vicky Dreiling

  He wouldn’t tell her about some of the uglier things he’d witnessed at school and abroad. Young, pregnant women who lost their livelihoods, while the scoundrels who impregnated them walked away free as birds. He was fortunate that Hawk had instructed him about the use of French letters to prevent disease and pregnancy.

  Will helped her to rise and held her hands. “I just want you to know that you have a choice—or I should say, we have a choice to make. It was stupid of me not to even think of it. Last night, I was more worried about making sure I didn’t… hurt you.”

  She looked at him. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, Will.”

  “You know there were others in my life, and you know there were never any serious relationships. The thing is, I worried because I’d never made love to a virgin before. I didn’t know what to expect.”

  “You acquitted yourself very well.”

  He smiled a little. “The choice is yours. Do you want to let things happen naturally or do you want to delay a family?”

  “Do you have a preference?” she asked.

  “Since we’re still getting to know each other, we might want it to be just us for a little while longer.”

  “Yes, I agree,” she said. “Even with a nurse, a babe still requires a lot of attention, especially with feedings.”

  He held her hand as they walked back to the cottage. “My friends are very impressed with you.”

  “I liked them,” she said. “They are very different in their characters. Fordham is something of a charmer, though not nearly as handsome or clever as you are.”

  “He can be a slow top at times, but he’s a loyal friend.”

  She sighed. “Bell, on the other hand, is something of a mystery. His manners are polished and his conversation all that it should be. But I sense that he holds back a part of himself, as if he doesn’t want others to get too close.”

  “You’ve pegged him,” Will said. “But enough about my bachelor friends. We have three more weeks of courtship.”

  “So what should we talk about today?” she asked.

  “I think we should go for a drive during the fashionable hour,” he said. “I want to show off my fashionable wife.”

  She hadn’t wanted to go out into the social whirl so soon. In truth, she’d wanted to stay in their idyllic little cottage. Of course, there had been issues, but they had managed to resolve them. And she was feeling easier now that she’d made the decision not to take any more coin for her designs. In truth, the guilt over her deception had spoiled her pleasure in creating gown designs. As the days went on, she hoped that her bad feelings would dissipate, but for now, she meant to concentrate all of her attention on Will.

  He was proud of her and wanted to show her off to the ton. Of course, she was delighted that he was pleased. No, she was stunned, after all the years she had sat on the wallflower row, believing herself too plain, too tall, and too shy to attract the attention of any man, much less one as handsome as her husband.

  Will had made her feel desired and attractive. When she was alone with him, she had learned to shed her inhibitions and felt herself worthy of being loved. But while he was an attentive lover, he’d never directly expressed tender feelings for her. She counseled herself to be patient. He’d told her he wasn’t certain what he was capable of feeling, but she must trust that, in time, he would come to love her. Yet she found it difficult to hold back her own declaration. Only when she was certain that he was asleep did she find the courage to whisper what was in her heart. But now, he was expertly steering his curricle along the crowded, noisy streets of London, and she felt as if she were crossing from her private honeymoon world into the public social world. Anxiety flooded her chest. Supposedly their marriage had alleviated the worst of the scandal, but she knew that others would stare and gossip. There were a number of cynical and cruel people in the ton who thrived on controversy.

  “Amy, there is nothing to be nervous about. I want to see that sweet smile, and I promise to make you laugh today. We’re going to drive along Rotten Row. I doubt people will point their fingers and stare, all because we accidentally got locked in a wine cellar—or stolen by Gypsies if you prefer.”

  She laughed. Then she sighed. “You’re right. If I cower, they will assume the worst.”

  “Actually, the park is the easiest place to make our first appearance as husband and wife. I need only tip my hat and you can wave your pretty gloved hand. Ah, here we are.” He drove along the path and winked at her. “Oh, my, everyone is looking at us.” He looked sideways at her. “Are my devil horns showing?”

  “No, I’m so very sorry. You must have forgotten them,” she said.

  He grinned at her. “Surely my forked tail is swishing behind me.”

  She looked behind the seat. “Oops, I think you lost it along the way.”

  “Drat, my bad reputation will be in tatters,” he said.

  She laughed and waved as they passed Lady Wallingham, who was openly staring at them.

  “I suppose she thinks we should hide our indecent selves in the country,” Will said.

  She grinned at him. “I rather like being indecent with you in the country.”

  “This may prove to be a very short drive,” he said.

  “I have a very virile husband,” she said.

  “I’m so tempted to kiss you in front of everyone, but we’d probably have to face the inquisition at Ashdown House if I did.”

  She leaned forward. “Oh, look. It’s Georgette and Beau.” She waved enthusiastically.

  Will pulled his curricle alongside Beau’s and pointed ahead. “Follow me.”

  Georgette waved at Amy. “Oh, she looks radiant, and I’m sure Beau is thrilled,” Amy said.

  Will drove off the path and jumped down. Then he reached up for Amy. He pretended that he was about to drop her, making her laugh. A group of passing matrons walking along held up their quizzing glasses to get a better look.

  When Beau halted his vehicle, Amy bounced on her toes as Beau helped Georgette descend.

  Amy hurried to her friend and clasped her hands. “Congratulations to you and Beau. I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, heavens, I wanted to write, but you know my mother and her ridiculous ideas about the proprieties,” Georgette said. “Why she thinks newlyweds shouldn’t be disturbed with mail is beyond me.”

  “Julianne told me your mother forbade you to write to me. When did you return from your aunt’s house?” Amy asked.

  “Yesterday, and not a moment too soon. Aunt Marianne’s old hound, Herbert, gobbled up a tray of biscuits and cast them up on Mama’s slippers.”

  Beau laughed. “I’ve never heard such screeching in all my life.”

  “Mama’s nerves have still not settled. She’s taken to her bed, and Papa is hiding in his library. All is back to normal,” Georgette said, laughing. “But look at you, Amy. Your cheeks are rosy, and you look very happy.”

  “I am,” she said as Will clasped her hand. “But when is your wedding taking place?”

  “In a fortnight,” Beau said. “The banns were read last Sunday, so just twice more, and then we will marry. Afterward, we will retire to the country and live with my family.”

  “Eugenia will be my bridesmaid,” Georgette said. “I do hope you will come to the wedding.”

  “Of course we will,” Amy said. “I’m very happy for you both.”

  Beau asked Will a question about his curricle. The two men went over to examine the wheels.

  “Oh, heavens,” Georgette said. “Beau will go on for hours about axles and such. I pretend to be fascinated for his sake. But never mind that. Walk with me a little way and tell me how you really are.”

  “I will likely astonish you,” Amy said. “You know I was apprehensive about this marriage, with good reason. It was so strange at first, because we knew very little about each other. But we are getting to know each other, and I am truly happy.”

  “I’m glad,” Georgette said. “And really, how could he not lov
e you?”

  Amy’s smile faded. “Our marital relationship is still developing.”

  “Are you in love with him?” Georgette asked.

  Amy shaded her hand above her bonnet brim and looked out at the path. “I haven’t told him.”

  “He seems smitten with you,” Georgette said.

  “He said he is proud of me,” she said. It was so much more than she’d hoped for, but still it fell short of her ultimate dream of marriage.

  “That is very reassuring,” Georgette said.

  “Well, there can be no doubt about you and Beau,” Amy said, turning the conversation back to her friend. “Now tell me all about your plans for the wedding and the honeymoon.” Georgette told her about the dress that Madame DuPont was creating, and she explained that she and Beau would journey to the Lake District in Scotland for their honeymoon.

  All of Amy’s happiness ebbed slowly away. She found herself wishing she’d not expressed such jubilance over her marriage, because she felt foolish. In truth, she’d been ecstatic over the progress of her marriage, but when she compared her situation to Georgette’s, Amy realized she’d been thrilled over a marriage of necessity. She’d been happy with second-best, until hearing Georgette’s news.

  “I’m very glad I saw you today,” Amy said.

  “Lady Wallingham is planning a ball in celebration of the engagement,” Georgette said. “You must attend.”

  “Yes, of course.” Amy’s stomach tightened a little at the prospect of appearing at a public ball. She told herself that all would be well, and of course she couldn’t disappoint Georgette, but it seemed that the idyllic time she and Will had spent alone was quickly coming to a close.

  They turned round and walked back to the curricles. Amy waved as Beau drove Georgette away.

  “Do you want to walk?” Will asked.

  “No, I have a slight headache.” She’d manufactured the headache, because all of her happiness had burst like a soap bubble.

  “I hope you’re not unwell,” Will said.

  “It’s only a headache,” she said.

  “I’ll take you home to rest.”

  During the drive home, she told herself to be happy with the progress of her own marriage and not to compare her situation with that of her friend. In truth, she’d been quite happy until Georgette had said words that had made reality sink in. And really, how could he not love you?

  Her husband didn’t love her. He liked her. He was proud of her. He enjoyed spending time with her. And he desired her.

  She told herself it was enough, that it was far more than she’d expected from this marriage. It could have been so much worse. In truth, she’d never held out real hope for her dreams, even before she’d journeyed with Georgette to London. The only two men who had ever expressed interest were exact opposites: a vicar and a devil. Ironically, they shared one similarity—neither loved her.

  With a deep breath, she vowed to expunge this foolish envy and return her focus to her shared goal with Will. They would prove everyone wrong about them. Everyone would see that they were delighted with each other. No one would forget that he was the worst rakehell in London, and no one would forget that she was a wallflower. But they would not see what they undoubtedly expected: a couple living separate lives.

  That afternoon, she had gone to her room to rest and shortly thereafter discovered the reason for her dampened spirits. Her monthly cycle had begun. She ought to have known, but she’d told herself the slight ache in her back was a result of the lovemaking. Ordinarily, she kept track, but with all the upheaval in her life, she’d completely forgotten. She drank some tea dosed with willow bark that made her a bit sleepy and eased some of the cramping.

  Poppet followed Will to her room. “Amy, do you still have a headache?” he asked.

  The kitten jumped on the bed and sat on the pillow beside Amy. “My monthly cycle started,” she said.

  “Oh.” He sat on the edge of the mattress. “I hope it’s not too uncomfortable.”

  Here was more evidence of his vast experience with other women. His gentle manner made her even more cross. “I don’t feel well,” she snapped, “and yes, it is uncomfortable.”

  He winced. “Can I bring you anything? Or perhaps rub your back?”

  “No, thank you,” she muttered. Oh, she was in a horrid mood.

  He rose. “Try to rest.”

  She did manage to doze. The sigh of the door opening awoke her, and she realized the room had gotten considerably darker. Will walked in with a candle. “Ah, you’re awake. Are you feeling any better?”

  “The tea Anna made helped me sleep,” she said.

  “I don’t want to disturb you,” he said. “I’ll just go round to the club and let you rest.” He kissed her cheek. “Go back to sleep now. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

  After he left, she felt very sorry for herself, because her back hurt and she was irritable. She’d given her trust to him, but it was much easier to trust him when he was at home with her. Now he was gone, and she missed him. She wished the outside world would go away, and that it could just be the two of them, plus the servants and Poppet of course.

  Most of all, she wished Will would come home and talk to her.

  Will could not help noticing that Amy had not been herself all week. She withdrew inside herself and said little. She was never sharp-tongued, but she was also not forthcoming. Will grew tired of this strange behavior quickly, because it seemed too much like moping to him.

  On Friday morning, she’d joined him for breakfast and seemed to be her old self again. He set his newspaper aside. “Monday, I start my position. I’ll be working at Ashdown House most of the time, when I’m not out inspecting the property.”

  She set her toast aside. “I wish we had more time alone.”

  He patted her hand. “We’ll still talk at night. By the way, we received an invitation from Lady Wallingham to a ball in one week. Sorry, I’d misplaced it, but I sent an acceptance late yesterday.”

  “Georgette told me at the park. It is to honor her engagement to Beau,” Amy said.

  He frowned. “I assumed you wished to attend a ball given in your friend’s honor.”

  “Of course I do,” she said with no enthusiasm.

  Will’s temper snapped, but a footman came in to clear the dishes.

  He rose. “Amy, please come with me to the parlor.”

  She sighed and walked with him. Once there, he sat with her on the sofa. “Amy, what is wrong? I understand you did not feel well earlier in the week, but since you came down to breakfast, I assume you’ve recovered. What I don’t understand is why you’re ill-tempered about the ball in your friend’s honor.”

  She looked at her tightly clasped hands. “I prefer not to reveal it, because it is unworthy of me, and I should have let it go before now. I will do so immediately and will not perturb you again.”

  “I insist,” he said, “because you have been in a bad temper since the day we saw your friend and Beau at the park. Did you have a falling out with Georgette?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “Then tell me what is wrong, because I’m weary of your petulance.”

  “I have been resentful, without cause, and envied a dear friend. I am well aware I should not begrudge her.”

  He frowned. “Then why did you? She is a good friend to you.”

  “Sometimes it can seem that others’ lives are so much easier. Sometimes your friend gets what you want more than anything else in the world. You don’t resent them for getting it, you only resent that you cannot have it. That is why I have been in a foul mood, and I’m ashamed to admit it.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand; you’re speaking in generalities.”

  “Have you ever wanted something very badly, but circumstances conspired against you?”

  He thought of that day when his brother had told him that he would withhold his quarterly allowance to prevent him from traveling. “Yes.”

  “Georgette
made an offhand remark. It was meant kindly. She has no idea that it stung me, and I wish to leave it at that.”

  “You will not resolve this resentment until you release it.”

  “There is no resolution, Will. I was simply reminded that I will never have what she has. I was perfectly content until she made the remark, and I will find contentment again. I just have to accept things as they are, rather than as I wish them to be.”

  “You are unhappy because of this lack in your life. Tell me what it is you need, and I will give it to you,” he said.

  “You cannot give what you do not have to give,” she said. “Please excuse me. I wish to write a letter to my parents.”

  Will went for a ride because he was frustrated with Amy. He hoped a jaunt through the property would clear his head so that he could figure out what his wife wanted so badly that he supposedly couldn’t give her.

  When he returned home two hours later, he muttered “women” under his breath as he trudged up the path to the cottage. Damnation, he would make her tell him. She was the one who insisted they talk all the time, and now she suddenly wanted to retreat to silence. That was just too damned bad.

  He stomped into the foyer, no doubt leaving dust on the floor. Will decided to confront her and tell her that enough was enough. He strode across the marble floor and strode to the parlor where he heard voices. He found Amy entertaining three of her friends: Eugenia, Cecile, and Bernice. They were looking at Amy’s sketches.

  “Sorry,” Will said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  The ladies rose and curtsied. “We were on the verge of leaving, sir,” Lady Eugenia said. Cecile and Bernice regarded him with obvious apprehension. They apparently believed he was the devil.

  “Amy, we look forward to shopping with you next week,” Lady Eugenia said.

  After the three ladies departed, Will joined Amy on the sofa. “I hope I didn’t scare your friends away.”

  “No, they only wished to call and set a date for shopping,” she said. “They want my fashion advice.”

  He nodded. “I went for a ride, because I was frustrated and wanted to see if I could work out what you felt was lacking in your life that made you envy your friend. You said I couldn’t give you what I didn’t have to give. It took me some time to figure it out, because I was thinking it had to do with something visible. Then I recollected the night we quarreled, and I realized that you had told me the day we married. You wanted the fairy-tale romance.”