The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  He frowned darkly. "You accuse me of empty flattery? To yourself? Other women? What has brought this about?"

  She sighed and hung her head. "I'm sorry, Thomas. I didn't mean it. I don't know what devil gets into me when you are around, but-"

  He leaned closer to whisper intimately in her ear. "Perhaps the same devil that gets into me when I look at you. All I want to do is drag you behind closed doors and-"

  She blushed red as a peony, but moved her head to receive his kiss. It seemed ages since they had last been together, and she found herself craving the contact like a famished woman longed for food.

  Thomas pulled himself up to his full height once more and took a ragged breath. "Forgive me, my dear. At times your pulchritude is more than I can withstand."

  He bowed, and led the way through the house to the small chapel, which had been decorated with lovely green satin ribbons and a profusion of white flowers. The musicians were assembled at the back of the church, and played their opening selections while Jonathan presided over the rehearsal.

  Elizabeth came running up last. Thomas chucked her under the chin affectionately, before prodding her forward to pretend to scatter petals all over the long red carpet which had been laid down for the occasion.

  Everyone took their places, and as they went through the readings, she was pleased to find that Clifford and Vanessa had theirs word-perfect without having to look at the paper.

  All was well until she was asked to come down the aisle on her father's arm, and to place her hand in Thomas's. She had the strangest sensation they were the only two people in the chapel, and she found herself wishing he really loved her.

  He noted the faraway look in her eyes, and ground his teeth in frustration. Convinced she was thinking of Herbert, he cursed the man, and his own folly for ever thinking this could work. He had saved Charlotte from a terrible fate, true, but possibly condemned her to a life sentence of regret if they could not shake down together happily.

  On the other hand, he thought, his stomach burning with fury, even that was better than what Jane had...

  "I said, Thomas, do you want to do your reading now?" Jonathan prompted.

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and avoided looking at his friend. "Er, no. I think we can skip that part. I shall be ready. Let's try the musical selection for the recessional, and then go to supper. It's rather chilly in here, and I would not want Charlotte or any of the other ladies to fall ill."

  She gave him a timid smile, but there was no answering warmth in his gaze, and no kiss at the end of the practice, even though she allowed herself to move almost chest to chest with him at the altar.

  He conducted her outside, merely offering her an arm instead of taking her hand and stroking it as was his wont.

  When they had gone inside and were settled at the supper table, Thomas said to her, "So, what has started giving you second thoughts again?"

  She stared at him, stunned. "How did you-"

  He shrugged one shoulder and grimaced slightly. "It was easy enough to guess. You've been somewhat preoccupied, and have the look of a terrified rabbit about you."

  She sighed. "I'm sorry, truly. I don't mean to be so skittish. This is a huge decision, the biggest of my life."

  He looked at her carefully for some moments. "Let me guess. Your aunt or Agnes has been saying things about me," he said dryly.

  She blushed, but didn't bother to deny it. "I had actually heard something of what Aunt Margaret told me previous to her mentioning it. About you vanishing from the social rounds, and, well, being involved with another woman, one who has had a baby," she admitted in a low voice.

  "I am involved, as you put it, with a great many unfortunate women who come to me for help," he said impatiently. "Involved with men too who seek a better life than the criminal one they have been forced into. One of my closest friends Philip is a convict currently serving out his sentence for that very same crime."

  Her mouth dropped open. "Surely men don't--"

  "Service women?" he supplied in clipped tones. "Indeed they do. He harmed no one but himself. It was the only way to get his family out of debtor's prison. Until we have justice in this society people will continue to be bought and sold like slaves. Abused, exploited."

  "Oh my, I never thought..."

  He put one hand on her cheek. "I hate to be the violator of your innocence in any respect, my dear, but you're old enough now to know the truth about the world you live in, and decide for yourself how to make it a better place."

  She nodded. "If I can. But please, can you tell me more about your friend-"

  He shook his head slightly. "Perhaps another time. I am not ashamed of the associations I have formed, though I would ask you to be discreet about what I just told you about one of our Rakehell friends with anyone outside our circle."

  Then he looked at her more closely. "But you evidently think there is something improper in one particular association, with a woman. Well, I can assure you, there isn't. Ask Jonathan, my friend the vicar, if you don't believe me."

  "No, that's all right-" she stammed.

  "Jonathan, would you mind joining us in the library after supper?" the Duke called over to his friend.

  "Not at all."

  She gazed at Thomas sheepishly, miserable at the way his normally open and loving expression had closed up. He looked so forbidding and remote, she found herself willing to do anything to restore the closeness which had been growing between them these past few days.

  "Thomas, really, I don't think ill of you, for your friend, or your charitable works. If you give me your word, it shall be enough."

  "I already have given you my word, and long before today. You evidently choose not to believe me," he said coldly. "There's no need to lie."

  She shrugged her delicately clad shoulders. "Please forgive me. I do not mean to be severe upon you. I'd like to trust you, but you haven't exactly given me cause. I mean, you have to admit that I hardly know you, and your reasons for this marriage--"

  "Have I given you cause to doubt me in the past few days?"

  "No," she replied automatically, then pulled herself up and took a sip of the cordial he had pressed into her hand. "Yes, actually. I still have no idea why you would want to marry me."

  "I've already told you-"

  She met his gaze candidly. "I hear your words, Thomas, but your actions, facts, don't match your reasons."

  Thomas stood up from the table, looking grim. "Elizabeth, please bring everyone into the Wedgwood room when they're finished. We shall be along in a moment."

  He took Charlotte by the upper arm, and Jonathan followed along behind. They went into the library. Once they were behind closed doors. Thomas pulled her into his warm embrace and kissed her with a breathtaking thoroughness. She stiffened for a moment with surprise, but reveled in the kiss after only a few short moments. This was what she had felt in the carriage that first night they had been together, what she had been aching for all evening.

  "I shall just have to keep giving you the same answers, until you are convinced I'm telling you the truth about everything," he whispered against her lips. "Including the spark between us." A tap at the door had Charlotte spring away from him in guilty surprise, and cover her throbbing lips with the backs of her fingers. Thomas ushered him in, then fixed Jonathan with a dark glance. "Now, Mr. Deveril, can you please satisfy Charlotte as to my connection with a certain lady who had a child approximately three months ago. Did I do anything to cause her distress in such a manner, or do anything other than attempt to help her?"

  Jonathan started like a scalded cat, but declared, "No, you did nothing wrong. You have acted most nobly in all particulars relating to that case."

  He turned back to look at Charlotte. "Is there anything else your aunt accused me of?"

  "She said something absurd about your sister vanishing, but Elizabeth is fine, so that cannot be true."

  "Very well, then, Mr. Deveril. Has any sister of mine ever vanished through
any fault of my own, or due to any mysterious and sinister circumstances of my own making?"

  Jonathan released a ragged breath. "No, Thomas, never."

  Thomas looked back at Charlotte. "Are you satisfied now?"

  She squared her shoulders. "I expect I shall have to be."

  His emerald eyes narrowed. "I'm sure Mr. Deveril will be willing to swear on a stack of Bibles if that will make you feel better."

  "You mock me, sir," she said with a proud lift of her chin.

  "No more than you in repeating these groundless and base accusations to me," he gritted out.

  Her gaze locked with his, and she could see the effort it had cost him to remain calm in the face of the injustice that she had heaped upon him.

  Charlotte blushed and curtsied. "I ask your forgiveness most humbly. I do believe you and Mr. Deveril. I shall pay no more attention to my aunt's vile words than I would to the buzzing of a gnat."

  He nodded curtly. "Fair enough. And now, if you don't mind, Jonathan, I should like to speak with my intended alone for a moment."

  "I shall wait outside. If I hear any glass smashing, I shall come rescue you, Thomas," he warned with an airy wave before departing.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes, but could not help smiling.

  She waited with some trepidation as they stood by the door, and he began to reach toward the small table near it.

  He noted her uncontrollable trembling, and relaxed his severe expression into a gentle half-smile. "Pray calm yourself, Madam. Our previous subject has been dealt with, and I for one wish to put it behind me.

  "No, I would like you here with me for a different reason now. I just wanted to give you a proper engagement ring. I had to take it to a jeweler's to get it resized. I would be most pleased if you would honor me by accepting it."

  He held out the ring box, and she saw it was a huge diamond set within a circle of emeralds. The central stone easily had to be four carats.

  "Oh my, it's beautiful," she breathed, deeply touched. "Thank you."

  "It was also my mother's. Between that and the dress, we have the old traditions covered. I believe my sister is going to help with the new, borrowed and blue aspects. She was also responsible for the church decorations, and the cake, so please make a special point of thanking her."

  "I shall. But first I have to thank you for the engagement ring. I feel so honored."

  She reached up to kiss him on his cheek shyly. Having accomplished her goal, she looked at him from under her long eyelashes, and then stretched up again to kiss him on the lips. They parted, and allowed her to dart her tongue between them.

  Thomas shuddered with delight and pulled her more tightly to him. Resplendent in black evening clothes with a black satin waistcoat embroidered with gold, she could not help herself. In his arms, everything seemed to make perfect sense. And he was so compelling that one kiss naturally seemed to lead to another, and another.

  And from kisses to caresses, to an embrace so intimate she could feel every line of his lean hard body, and the huge ridge of flesh probing into her soft belly.

  "Charlotte," he groaned, flexing his hips to deepen the contact.

  Her breath nearly left her completely as the achingly empty space between her thighs grew lambently moist. He positioned her more squarely in front of him, rubbing her mound with the front of his tented trousers.

  "Oh God, Thomas, I need--"

  "Gadzookers, I've lost my peruke!" Jonathan exclaimed from the other side of the door, and then peeped his head around it. "That is quite enough, you two. Plenty of time for that AFTER the wedding."

  They both smiled at him tremulously, and Charlotte turned her back to for a moment to adjust her clothes and regain her shattered composure.

  He stroked his hand down her back, and took her by the elbow gently.

  "Come, my dear. Jonathan is right. Plenty of time for that once we become better friends."

  She opened her mouth to protest that they could be if only he would tell her the truth, but the vicar was looking at them both pointedly with his sharp gray eyes.

  She followed him numbly and went to the Wedgwood room. Clifford and Vanessa were performing a duet at the pianoforte, and Elizabeth was bubbling with excitement. She had been telling them about the wedding cake she had helped bake, but stopped as soon as they entered. Charlotte saw a little pile of parcels wrapped in silver paper.

  "For me?" she asked in surprise, when she saw everyone looking at her expectantly.

  The young girl nodded.

  Charlotte blushed, and looked at her fiance, who gave her an encouraging wink.

  She recalled her promise to act delighted no matter what the young girl had in store for her, and managed a warm smile. "I'm not sure what I've done to deserve all of this, but thank you."

  "Go on, open them!" Elizabeth urged.

  Charlotte looked around in embarrassment, for once disliking being the center of attention. She opened the first small package Thomas's sister handed her. It was a blue frilly garter, which caused everyone to giggle. The larger package was the most exquisite veil she had ever seen, embroidered with silver and gold thread, and seed pearls.

  "Oh, Elizabeth! It's exquisite. Thank you so much!"

  "It will go with the tiara which was with Mother's jewels," the young lady said with enthusiasm.

  "Perfect. Thank you for thinking of me, and putting in all of this hard work."

  "And finally, something borrowed, this little white reticule, with green flowers. I made it for myself last summer, but it will be perfect with your wedding dress and sash."

  "It will indeed. And what will you be wearing?"

  "White sprigged muslin with a green sash."

  She nodded approvingly. "Then we shall all match."

  "And I shall be standing up in church with the four most beautiful women in England," Thomas said with a smile, putting his arm around his sister's shoulders.

  "Well, very nice indeed. Now, if you'll forgive me for breaking this up," Charlotte's father said, rising from his chair, "we will have an early start in the morning. The boys and I shall get ready back at the house, and then bring Charlotte over to get her dressed here."

  "That will be fine. It will be a long day for all of us. Go home and get some rest, and try to have trouble-free dreams," Thomas said quietly to Charlotte.

  They took their leave of the rest of the party in the Wedgwood room. Thomas escorted them out onto the front steps.

  He squeezed her hand warmly. "I shall see you at the altar tomorrow."

  She nodded. "Thomas-"

  He placed a finger on her lips. "No more apologies, arguments, or questions. Just let yourself feel."

  He caressed her lower lip with his thumb, causing her to shiver with longing. She licked the thumb and sucked it sensually for a brief second, before he pulled it away as though scalded.

  "Oh Lord, my dear girl," he breathed, his eyes blazing, "you do like to play with fire."

  "You're pretty scorching yourself," she murmured, gazing up at him as though in a trance.

  He tried to get his convulsing loins under control. "I never have been before. You bring it out in me."

  "Then you do the same for me," she confessed in a low tone.

  "A promising start to our marriage indeed. Good night, dearest. Sweet dreams."

  He kissed her on the lips hard if fleetingly, and then lifted her into the carriage. He called for the driver to move on, leaving her mouth and heart throbbing, and her mind in a complete whirl.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  By seven in the next morning, that of her wedding day, Charlotte's mouth and heart were not the only things throbbing. She had barely got a wink of sleep, tossing and turning, for once she was on her one, she felt her misgivings return to the fore. Her aunt's words haunted her throughout the night despite Thomas's assurances that he was innocent of everything she had accused him of, and Jonathan's confirmation that the rumors were unfounded.

  She lifted her aching head fro
m the pillow, and splashed cold water on her face. The maids brought up her bath water, and she scented it with rose oil, which soothed her nerves a bit and made her feel slightly more awake.

  She put on a full set of brand new clean linen undergarments slowly, sensually, recalling how the Duke's caresses had made her feel like molten fire was coursing through her veins. She donned the simple dark-blue day gown she had laid out for herself, the sensation of the fabric sliding over her skin almost too much to be borne. The chiming of the clock at last tore her from her reverie. She gathered her things together, and took a last look around the chamber before descending to the breakfast room. She helped herself to toast and tea, and forced herself to partake of it, if only to busy her hands while she waited for the others to get ready.