The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  She shoved hard at his shoulders, and ducked and squirmed as his moist, fleshy lips pressed closer and closer to her own.

  Egad, anything but that! she thought desperately as his mouth descended.

  The sound of a throat clearing behind them on the snowy forest path caused both to start.

  Pamela took the opportunity to stamp hard on the groping young man's foot. As soon as the cad released her, she fled to the side of her rescuer. "Mr. Deveril, you've come at a most fortuitous moment."

  "So I see." The handsome young sandy-haired clergyman planted himself between Pamela and her assailant.

  Mr. Prine sidled up to the clergyman. "I am of course willing to marry the girl immediately to protect her from any hint of scandal," he said, his huge Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he spoke.

  Jonathan appraised Prine with his sharp gray eyes, the color of a storm-tossed sea. "Yes, I'm sure you are. But Miss Ashton isn't willing to marry YOU."

  His bulbous eyes bulged still further. "Pamela, please--"

  She cringed away from his eagerly questing hand.

  Jonathan grabbed hold instead and twisted it up behind Prine's back in an instant. "I should thrash you within an inch of your life," he said through tight lips. "Don't ever pester Miss Ashton in such a deplorable manner again."

  "But I love--"

  Jonathan twisted the arm harder, until Prine let out a pained whimper. "If you try to harm her again, Prine, I shall have you arrested. I suggest you leave now, or else I shall read you out from the pulpit every Sunday for being a fortune-hunting seducer of women."

  All the fight fled Prine then. He wisely determined that though Jonathan Deveril might well be only a vicar, he was not to be trifled with. He scuttled off like a demented crab, leaving Pamela both relieved and faintly amused now that it was at last all over and she was safe.

  She sighed, checked the damage to her gown, and drew her cloak more tightly about her once more with a small shiver.

  "Thank you, Mr. Deveril. I'm so very grateful. One minute I was walking with his sister. The next she vanished into thin air, and he appeared out of the shrubbery."

  He shook his head, his normally handsome mouth a thin line of outraged disapproval. "Like the serpent in the Garden of Eden."

  "At least he could have offered me an apple before he started to, well, you know." She blushed profusely, but they could not resist giggling over her witticism.

  Jonathan sobered and said earnestly, "You're going to have to be much more careful in future. You did well for yourself trying to fend him off, but I dread to think what might have happened had I not chanced to come along."

  "So do I." She shivered again.

  His brown eyebrows knit in consternation. "And some men are far more dangerous than that milquetoast."

  "I know."

  "I can't believe he dared behave like that," he said with a shake of his head. "What on earth could have possessed him?"

  Pamela grimaced. "I can well believe it. My money, of course. The nerve of him. I want to twist those awful ears of his right off."

  He reproved mildly, "Now, now, temper, dear girl. Not everyone is as affluent as yourself, you know. He may need to marry well to support an elderly mother and multiple siblings."

  She looked at him pertly out of the corner of her gleaming blue eyes. "Does he?"

  He gave a tight smile. "I'm afraid not. He's simply trying to pay off his excesses at Boodle's."

  She lifted her chin in triumph. "Hah, I thought so. It's one thing to play for amusement. It's another thing entirely to stake your entire estate upon games of chance. Disgraceful."

  "I couldn't agree with you more, Miss Ashton. But that's not to say I haven't indulged in the past. I've even seen you engage in a small flutter on occasion."

  She nodded. "I confess it, but I wouldn't risk all for mere money."

  "Ah, for love, then, obviously," he said with a tiny smile.

  "Perhaps not even that," she said after a moment's consideration. "I'm beginning to wonder if love really exists, or if it's just something written about to sell novels. Every man I've met in the past six months has done nothing but pursue me for my fortune. It makes me wonder if anyone can see me for who I really am."

  He paused to look at her closely. "And who ARE you, pray?"

  Pamela shrugged and toyed with the ribbons of her fashionable gray bonnet, feeling unaccountably despondent by the turn of the conversation. She took his proffered arm and stepped closer. "Are you going into the village?"

  "Yes, I have some things for the Millers," he said, indicating the baskets he had put down under a tree before coming to her rescue. "And I need to drop some items over at the school. But I can't possibly leave you alone, Miss Ashton. I should take you back to the Manor."

  Loath to part with his company, she replied, "No, not at all. I'm eager for some fresh air and exercise. Here, let me help you." She reached out for a basket handle.

  He stayed her. "Your ordeal must have been most distressing. Are you sure--"

  "I'm fine, truly, now that you're here. No real harm was done. Just a few strained stitches in my gown and a valuable lesson learned about how unscrupulous some men can be."

  He sighed. "I'm sorry you had to find out in so violent a manner. If it ever happens again, raise your knee hard into the man's groin. It will render him incapable of harming you."

  She blushed and looked away. "I'm fine, truly. Just startled, that's all. And I can assure you I shan't be letting any man get so close ever again."

  "I really ought to get you home," he said, taking her arm more firmly. "We're alone here, and I would not wish to cause you any further unease. Not to mention the chill in the air, and night setting in. Your family will worry."

  She shook her head and took a handle at last, which he yielded only with great reluctance. "Step-mama's time is taken up with the younger children. And Aunt Susan is too busy making up her gowns for our journey to Bath."

  He stiffened slightly. "How delightful. When do you plan to depart?"

  Pamela did not notice the alteration in his demeanor, so caught up was she in her excitement. "As soon as the weather improves. The roads have been well nigh impassable for weeks."

  He tried to keep the reproach out of his tone. "You're naturally eager to participate in the pursuits of a town."

  He was relieved when she said, "The concerts and lecture series are most edifying. While Aunt is soaking in the Hot Baths for her rheumatism, I can catch up on my reading. You've been so kind lending me so many excellent books. But ever since Papa died and I've come of age, I've been so busy I've scarcely had a moment to myself."

  He nodded. "I understand. I lost both my parents not too long ago."

  "I'm so sorry."

  "Thank you." He inclined his head politely.

  She wondered at his impassivity, but pressed on with her theme. "I'm trying to learn more about the holdings at Ashton Manor. I'm certain our steward is a decent man, but he's getting on in years, and apt to overlook things. He can't see a jot without his glasses, and takes hours to do things which should require only minutes. Things need to be attended to properly until little Bertie comes of age. It's a great responsibility being one of his guardians."

  He restrained a small smile. "Yes, I dare say there's a great deal of paperwork."

  "You mock me, Mr. Deveril," she said with a pettish toss of her blonde curls. "I'll have you know that I take my duties seriously. I'm only sorry I wasn't a better pupil at school."

  "Yet you sing and play the harp and pianoforte so beautifully."

  She shot him a sharp look. "You really are intent upon picking a fight with me, or mocking me, aren't you?"

  He shook his head and gave a small smile. "I do apologize, Miss Ashton. I had no right to tease. It's just that most men of your acquaintance would find those attributes highly desirable, whilst a knowledge of sums and other intellectual fields of inquiry would be far less so."

  Her face relaxed into her usual g
entle expression once more as she admitted with a sigh, "I didn't place much value on them myself until Father died. Now I'm eager to do better. You've helped show me the way. Thank you."

  He felt a curious uplifting of his heart and snugged her arm closer to his body. "I'm glad to be of service. It's never too late to learn."

  They walked along in the woods for a few moments in comfortable silence, keeping pace perfectly with one another despite him being almost a foot taller than the dainty Pamela, only two inches above five feet.

  "And after Bath?" he eventually asked. "Will you go on to London from there? It is to be your Season, after all. You must be so excited about being introduced at Court."

  Her blue eyes lit up like beacons. "At the risk of earning your censure yet again, I am. I missed my chance last year with Father being so ill, and passing. I want to do my duty to his loving memory. But if I don't come out this year the Ton will think I have three heads."

  He chuckled and gave her an admiring glance. "I'm sure you won't be thought badly of for doing your filial duty. If I were seeking a wife, I should think it a desirable quality."

  The mention of his single state made her suddenly feel self-conscious in his presence. Odd, it had never seemed to bother her in the past....

  She withdrew her arm from his ever so gradually, until merely her fingertips rested upon the crook of his elbow. "And do you think you shall be? In the market for a wife soon? After all, it would be a good thing for the parish, would it not, for you to have a helpmeet?"

  Jonathan took a deep breath and said evenly, "No, it is not to be. As you know, the clerical ideal is chastity. And a poor parson has a limited number of choices available to him. Moreover, my sister Sarah is a most excellent housekeeper. Thus for a variety of reasons, I have no wish to alter my state."

  "Not even to have the comfort of a good loving woman and children by your side?"

  He ground his teeth together audibly, trying to tamp down the stabbing pain of regret he always felt at his circumstances. But oddly, the pair of mournful green eyes he usually saw did not appear in his mind's eye.

  Pamela's face seemed to loom in front of him, larger than life. He could smell her perfume now, though it only was light and the wind was gusting. The floral essence hit him with the force of a sledgehammer, right in the solar plexus, and further down.

  Realizing she was staring at him, he managed to grit out, "Some horses pull well as a team. Others are better on their own. I am the latter type of horse."

  "Not to be yoked then," she said with a lift of her pert nose, wondering why it was suddenly so urgent for her to appear not to care in the least. "But you're still young enough yet. I imagine several women left on the shelf might jump at the chance of a man not quite thirty."

  He shot her a scorchingly furious look. "Thank you so much."

  "Oh, no, I didn't mean--" She clapped her gloved hand over her mouth, mortified that her flippancy had wounded his pride.

  When she had regained the use of her tongue she declared, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Deveril. I spoke without thinking. I very much regret my inadvertent slight."

  He knit his sandy brows and said nothing. Now his face really had aged to something far beyond its usual boyishly charming and open expression.

  "Come, Mr. Deveril," she said more softly, "we've always been such good friends, ever since you moved here to Somerset. Please don't hold my thoughtless remark against me. I know you're not quite as old as all that. And I would so hate it if you dismissed me as an empty-headed little miss, only interested in the company of young men."

  "No, I'm not angry," Jonathan said. "And I could never dismiss you, Miss Ashton. You are many things, but certainly not easily dismissed."

  She looked at him timidly from under her lush sweep of dark lashes, which contrasted strongly with her glowing blond hair. "Thank you, I think. I wouldn't like to fall out with you. Now that I'm an orphan, I should like someone paternal, or at the very least fraternal," she added, seeing his glowering expression return, "to keep me on the straight and narrow. Who better than a clergyman?"

  "Who indeed," he muttered, trying to think of anything but her lovely face and person.

  "I can see I've vexed you again. I'm sorry."

  "Not at all, Miss Ashton. I'm simply feeling the chill. My advanced years, you know," he said in a mocking tone.

  He sighed inwardly, and told himself not to keep punishing himself by pursuing his friendship with this light young butterfly. Not when his own inner darkness plagued him so.

  She laughed merrily, not catching the grimness in his steely-gray eyes. "Oh, you do tease awfully. I shall taunt you right back. If you're so aching and bent with age, it's a wonder you don't come to Bath with my aunt and myself. You could serve as chaperon for us, and sit in the spa with her to cure your rheumatism."

  Jonathan knew he was going to regret ever opening his mouth, but the temptation was simply too much to resist. "As it happens, I do have business there. The Duke and Duchess of Ellesmere have often asked me to stay. I believe you have a nodding acquaintance with her? Formerly Charlotte Castlemaine?"

  "Yes, of course I remember. They were married last winter."

  "Indeed. They have a fine townhouse in Bath. I should be most pleased to wait upon you and your aunt. In fact, I don't see why we could not be their guests."

  She blinked. "Really? Why, how wonderful! They're delightful people, with most excellent conversation and strong principles, even if I don't quite understand them all. We can talk of books and music, and oh, a million things. But I mustn't be so selfish," she said, her face falling. "If we were to accept your kind offer, who would take over your Sunday duties here?"

  Jonathan was gratified to hear that she did not seem unduly impressed with the nobility of their proposed host. "I have a fairly good curate. He can manage to fill in for a fortnight."

  "How marvelous. Now I shan't dread going to Bath quite so much."

  He looked at her sharply. "You just said you were looking forward to it."

  She nodded. "So I did. But the prospect of being with my aunt night and day is enough to drive even the most placid of temperaments to distraction."

  He patted her hand. "I understand fully. She's a good woman, but, er, rather wearing in her enthusiasms."

  She beamed at him gratefully, her rosy lips curved into a smile so alluring he struggled not to taste their succulent ripeness. "Yes, just so. I knew you'd phrase it precisely the right way."

  He distanced himself from her overwhelming beauty, stepping away from her to bow smartly. "Consider me yours to command for Bath, Miss Ashton. Name the departure date, and I shall make all the arrangements."

  "Are you sure the Duke won't mind you inviting us without even asking him?"

  "The house is almost fully separated into two. Your aunt and you shall have one half. I shall stay with Thomas and his wife in the other. Only please don't mention my friend's full title to your aunt at this point. Else I fear she'll decide her wardrobe still is not sufficiently grand enough, and we'll never get to Bath."

  Pamela's laughter pealed out in the frosty air. "We shall aim for mid-February then, and see what the weather does."

  "Very good. I shall look forward to it."

  She gazed up at his earnest face, and saw he was telling her no less than the truth. As she stared, she wondered why she had never noticed how exceptionally handsome the young clergyman was.

  She blinked and turned away, fumbling with her reticule. He caught it before it fell, restored it to her, and took her other hand in his own for a brief moment. He tucked it back into the crook of his arm, and warned her against a couple of icy patches on the path. Then they continued upon their way.

  They walked on in silence to the road and continued on until they reached the outskirts of the village, enjoying the mild weather and the quiet companionship.

  Jonathan told himself there was no harm in being in so public a place with Pamela. It wasn't as if he got to see her all that often. Eve
n when he did, they did not get the chance to speak privately, and were certainly never completely alone. He spent so much time avoiding her, or at least trying to. Why not just relax for once and enjoy her charming company for an all too brief moment?

  "Are you coming with me to the Millers?" she asked as they reached the first thatched cottage in the row.

  He curbed his desires with every ounce of willpower he possessed. "If you're going in, I'll just give you this basket. I shall go on to the school with the promised supplies."

  She looked at him for a moment, wondering why she felt so reluctant to part with him. "All right, if you're busy."

  "Not busy, exactly, my dear Miss Ashton, but I did promise," he said quickly, not wishing to offend, but fearful he had been too bold with her already. "It's late. I need to get you home safely. It will save time if we separate for a short while."