The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  "Clifford!"

  He looked at her outraged features coolly, hoping he had not overdone his man-of-the-world pose. "I'm just trying to foresee any eventuality, just as you are. I'm sorry if my blunt talk offends you. I am trying to be fair to us both. I did not say I would be the one ending the relationship. I am merely providing you with an out clause if you should find life with me unbearable. So long as you are honest in your dealings with me, Vanessa, you may expect no less from me."

  Vanessa stared at the carpet. She unaccountably felt like weeping. She had tested Clifford's greed, and should have been more than satisfied with his attitude. But the matter-of-fact way in which he had discussed all of their arrangements made her think the spark she had fancied between them was all in her imagination.

  "No, you haven't offended me, it's just that..." She shrugged.

  His dazzling blue eyes missed nothing. "You would have preferred a bit more romance, a few sighs and lover-like protestations and avowals," he said gently.

  She did not deny it.

  "Very well, my dear girl, you shall have them."

  Before Vanessa could prevent him, Clifford raised her up from her chair.

  He had meant to plant a simple light kiss on her cheek, but she raised her face to his, and the next thing he knew, his mouth was on hers, and he was tugging her gently into his arms. He ran his hands down her back from shoulder to hips in a languid caress. He parted her lips with his own, sipping at her like a bee at the nectar within soft moist petals.

  She opened her mouth even further with shivering delight. His tongue delicately, sinuously probed, peaking her nipples, and bringing a heady flush to her cheeks. She held her breath at the thrilling sensations, and allowed her hands to creep up to his face, and around his neck. She drew closer and closer into the torrid hard heat of his body. One arm looped around his waist, the other moved upwards to caress his silken hair at last.

  At last he could stand it no more, and pulled away shakily, before she discovered the full extent of his ferocious ardor. "I am sorry. That was badly done. Please forgive my less than gentlemanly behavior. My only excuse is being so near to you made me lose my head."

  He stepped away from her, putting at least an arm's length of distance between them. "The plain truth is that the last thing I want to talk about when I'm with you is business, Vanessa. You can have any terms you like, so long as you marry me. Soon. One look from those wonderful eyes of yours, and I feel as though I'm going to burst into a conflagration. And all this talk of death and children makes me want to prove to you I'm very much alive, and looking forward to starting a very large family."

  She giggled nervously, and turned away from him, coloring to the roots of her hair. He could she her retreating into herself shyly, as was her wont, and tucked one finger under her chin so that she was forced to look up at him.

  "I have promised you honesty, and that is what you shall have. I don't know what the future holds for us together, Vanessa. No one ever really can when they marry. But so long as we trust, respect and love each other, there will be no need for any more of these business discussions. The solicitors can keep themselves busy with their other clients' tricky legal matters. I have better things to do with my wife. Including living up to every single one of the vows we will exchange. With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow."

  Vanessa stroked his cheek tenderly. "I'm glad we are in full accord then."

  His blue eyes twinkled. "What, even about the death and children remark?"

  "Especially about that," she whispered shyly.

  He threw his head back and laughed, and then lifted her by the waist and spun her around once

  She squealed in delight, and laughed as she had not done in more years than she could count.

  He set her back down on her feet gently with a single heated kiss. "I'm sorry. There I go again, getting carried away. I hope I have not hurt you. Pray be seated and rest, my dear. My only excuse for my rambunctious behavior is you've made me feel like a schoolboy all over again.

  "I shall just fetch pen and paper so you can dash off a letter to your solicitors to come when they can, in a few days when you are fully recovered and appropriately settled at the Jeromes' home. Then we shall go have that cup of tea I promised you, and tell everyone the marvelous news. That you have consented to make me the happiest of men."

  Vanessa searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but found only a glowing pleasure and contentment. She stretched up on tiptoe to kiss him once again, and gauged his passion by the ardor of his kiss.

  She was nearly scorched by the heat which emanated from him as they clung together, pressing more and more tightly against one another, hands seeking, searching, thrilling. Only the sound of a throat clearing in the doorway brought them to their senses. Vanessa almost didn't hear it, so loud was the pounding of her heart as she lost herself in Clifford's embrace.

  Henry grinned from ear to ear. "Let me guess. I can now officially have the pleasure of welcoming you to the family, Vanessa."

  "She has consented to share her life with me, yes."

  "How wonderful. I might have known you would steal the march on me and marry first. But I don't mind. It will take the pressure off Josephine and I now, since there has not been a huge wedding in the district for some time, and ours would have been the first."

  "I had always imagined a quiet one, myself, but I suppose given the situation, the last thing we want is a hole-in-the-corner affair."

  "But Clifford, I'm still in mourning," Vanessa pointed out gently.

  "That's true, of course, my dear. We shall have to err on the side of respectability and arrange a quiet, sober and small-ish affair. And while I am dying to get started on our family, I think ensuring our first child is born at least a year after we wed will stop any future tongue-wagging."

  Vanessa flushed red as a peony. "But I thought--"

  "I'm more than delighted to take whatever the Lord gives us, but there are ways of preventing conception, as the good doctor will tell you. Abstinence of course is the most effective method of all."

  "Then you might as well not even be married," Henry said with a shake of his head.

  "Not that we should be discussing this in front of you, little brother, but I am not a satyr, for Heaven's sake. Moreover, there will be certain times each month, and then during pregnancy, when a wife will require our forbearance, as you well know. To give any woman less than the appropriate consideration for her welfare is most ungentlemanly."

  "I defer to your superior experience, then." Henry's face fell. "Oh, er, I didn't mean-"

  Vanessa gave a timid smile. "It's all right, Henry. Clifford has told me all I need to know of his past."

  Henry shook his head. "I shouldn't have started this conversation."

  She smiled slightly. "No, I'm glad you did. It has put my mind at ease on quite a number of points. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a letter to write."

  Clifford checked the top of the desk for ink and a quill, and some clean paper. "We will be in presently, Henry. Please ask Josephine if she will be so kind as to pour for us."

  "I shall. And once again, many congratulations, and so sorry for the, well, you know what I said."

  "All is forgiven. Now shoo, little brother."

  "Vanessa Stone," she said musingly.

  "My only wife, my only love," he declared softly, putting his arm around her shoulders with easy affection.

  She pulled away from him. "You don't have to say that. It can't possibly be true."

  He stroked her cheek lightly. "You ought to know by now, I don't say what I don't mean. I was fascinated by your beauty as a young lady, but never did I imagine we would be destined for one another."

  "Nor did I, but in your arms, it feels so, so perfect. Like nothing can ever harm me."

  "Yes, it does, doesn't it?" he said with a grin, as she returned once more to his embrace, nestling full against him perfectly, as though they were designed to
fit together in every respect.

  As he gave her a final kiss and strode from the room, he hoped all would be perfect in their life together. But with Gerald Hawkesworth still out there, doing the good Lord only knew what, and the solicitors having the power to prevent their marriage, Clifford was filled with a sudden sense of foreboding which all the kisses and caresses Vanessa gave him could do nothing to dispel.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Gerald climaxed with a satisfied grunt, tightening his fingers around the hapless woman's throat so that at last she ceased her struggles. Ceased to be.

  He rose from the ground and adjusted his clothing. He was so hot he removed his leather mask to mop his soaking brow. The cool night air upon his passion-flamed face was like a caress. He stuffed the mask in his pocket and went over to the young man they had tied to a tree and forced to watch. Though they had already beaten him within an inch of his life, the edge on Gerald's towering fury still had not been taken off.

  Just as well, since the man certainly could not be permitted to live. Dead men told no tales...

  He kicked and pummeled the man again with his fists until at last he tired, then grasped the rope which had been used to tie his hapless victim around the tree. He threw one end over a high branch. He pulled with all his might, lifting the tall dark man high above the ground, until he began to jig in the air in the manner which delighted so many witnesses to public executions.

  Except that the only thing this man had been guilty of was being in the wrong place at the wrong time when Gerald had heard that Vanessa was still alive after his attempt to poison her and prevent her from getting help.

  "Look at him dancing," one of his companions declared, running his fingers through his hair.

  The third man joined in the merciless mockery. "One, two, three, one, two, three," he taunted, removing his own mask to take a swill of rum, and wondering if he should have another turn on the wench, even though Gerald had spoiled their fun a bit by throttling her.

  Gerald manipulated the rope up and down, letting his victim's feet rest on the ground for a tantalizing second, so that he managed to catch a few desperate breaths before being hauled aloft once more. But eventually Gerald grew tired of the sport, and tied the end to a small knot on the trunk of the tree.

  "Interesting leaves on that tree, wouldn't you say, gentlemen?" Gerald sneered, still feeling a savage fury roiling inside of him.

  "What shall we do now?" the third man asked, offering him the bottle.

  "I think there's a small farm house over there. The Widow Marsters, and her three young daughters, if I'm not mistaken."

  The two men grinned from ear to ear.

  The second man's eyes lit up evilly. He growled, "What a good idea. Lead the way, Gerald, lead the way."

  Leaving the tall young man swinging and kicking, desperate for even the smallest puff of air, the trio gathered the reins of their horses, and vanished deep into the vastness of Millcote Forest.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  It was an idyllic summer's afternoon. The cerulean sky was cloudless, the birds twittered in the trees, and a cool breeze wafted though the ornate gardens behind the lovely red brick Elizabethan manor.

  It was a perfect day for a visit to the elegant maze. There knights consorted with their ladies, reciting poetry, plucking flowers for their beloveds' nosegays, and strumming upon their lutes. The sun beat down overhead, but that daunted not the many who had assembled for the tourneys that day. The most eagerly awaited event would be the jousting, but for the moment the archery butts had been put in place, and now the competing men assembled, while the ladies looked on in awe.

  A few of the couples had strayed down the primrose path of dalliance, and were still playing hide and seek amid the lofty green walls of the box hedge. What could be more perfect than a maze for flirtation. Concealment. Fairy tales come to life.

  Or to death.

  For as she sat on the ground weaving stems to make a daisy chain, a dark knight clad head to toe in ebony began to pursue a blue-gowned woman who had rejected his rose. She was determinedly making her way to where all the contestants had assembled. As the knights pace quickened, so too did hers.

  In her haste to get away, she did not see the danger. She stepped right out in front of a straw filled target, just as the contest started. The shadowy man who had been about to take his turn was shoved aside, and the dark knight let fly with a goose fletched arrow which whistled through the air like a banshee's scream.

  "No! No! Look out! Stop!"

  But it was too late. She heard the sickening crunch of steel into bone, flesh. Her daisy chain tumbled from her numb fingers, and now she was running toward the fair damsel with red hair, who was now no more than a sad-looking wraith who gave her a tender smile and kiss on the forehead.

  "Love never dies. Just like the fairy tales say. Find your brave golden knight and live happily ever after, my sweet."

  For a moment she felt the light touch upon her brow. It was warm, radiant even, and filled her with courage and hope.

  But bleak despair hovered on the fringes of her consciousness as the dark knight seemed to circle her like a wolf waiting to pounce.

  "Help me! Help me!"

  "I'm here!" came a voice from very far away.

  She was sure it was Clifford's.

  But before she could reach him, biting hands dragged her back toward the shadows.

  "Good God, Vanessa! What have you done!" a male voice cried in horrified accusation.

  Then all went black. The light of the sun was sucked from the sky as if into a void, and she was in an emptiness of nothingness in which all she could hear were her own protests. Her own screams.

  "I didn't do it! I'm innocent. I never--"

  Vanessa sat bolt up right, her hands blindly groping in front of her to search for anything to cling to. She clutched the bed covers so hard she yanked them right up off the foot and up to her neck.

  Her cries and sudden start scared the wits out of the young maid who had been bringing in the coals.

  The girl dropped the scuttle and leapt backwards with a small cry. With her back flat against the wall, she began to sidle out of the room.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. It was just a bad dream," Vanessa apologized quickly. "Please, please don't go."

  "No, Miss," she said dutifully. "I hope I didn't wake you."

  Vanessa let out a shaky laugh. "I'm glad you did."

  "If you please, Miss, you've got some visitors downstairs," the timid maid said, never once taking her wary eyes off Vanessa.

  "Visitors? At this hour?" she asked, squinting against the bright sunlight.

  "Yes, Miss. Your aunt and her sons."

  "I see. Can you not tell them I am indisposed?"

  "Dr. Gold did try, but they refuse to leave until they have seen you. They've tried to force their way up the stairs a few times already. Fortunately Mr. Branson has told them that if they don't sit still in the dining room partaking of refreshment, he has a nice cell down in the jail for the two gentleman."

  Vanessa felt a small smile tug at her lips. She pushed her heavy fall of auburn hair back from her face, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Can you let me have that black gown there, with the lace collar?"

  "Yes, Miss. Take your time. You've been ill. Are you sure you want to dress? I could just send them up when you--"

  "I dare not. They'll make too much of a fuss if I do that. Hot water?"

  "In the kettle on the hob, Miss. I'll help you." She introduced herself shyly as Mary, and laid out her clothing according to Vanessa's instructions.

  The two worked in tandem to get her decently clad and quite pretty, considering all she had been through in the past few days.

  "Can you tell Mr. Stone that I should like him to attend upon me with the Stephens?

  "Of course, Miss."

  "Do you think Dr. Gold will mind if we use his drawing room?"

  "Not at all. I'll shall show them in
there and convey your message. And bring tea."

  They shared a conspiratorial smile. "Ah, yes, such a great social asset, the tea tray. Able to smooth even the most ruffled feathers."

  "Forgive me for saying so, but you've been ruffled enough, Miss. If they upset you, just tell them to leave. The doctor won't mind."

  "Indeed, they will be only too glad to leave. I just have to make sure that they don't take me with them." She gave a wan smile, and the maid actually dared to pat the fine young lady on the shoulder.