The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  The thought filled her with such alarm she bolted up the stairs, and locked her door behind her. Good Lord, how on earth had this happened? She, who could have the pick of a dozen fine gentlemen, had lost her heart completely to a simple country parson?

  Well, not so simple, she had to admit, thinking of his education and intelligence, and his impeccable manners. His dress was not always quite the latest mode, but he was tall, well built, his physique magnificent. He was handsome, so much so as to turn heads wherever he went. His conversation was always most interesting, his company highly sought after. So where was the objection?

  No fortune for one, she began to list, thinking of her Aunt Susan's hopes for a 'good' match for her. No title, no real home of his own, only a modest living, and that dependent upon the largesse of his friend the Duke.

  On the other hand, he had few bad habits. He was not the stereotypical country parson running with the hounds, or prowling after young ladies of good fortune. He had never led her to believe he was only interested in her money; quite the opposite in fact.

  She sighed as she began to undress. In fact, he had never indicated any romantic interest in her at all. Was he obligated elsewhere? Or just too staid and sober to marry?

  But when she was in his company, she found him highly entertaining. So did his friends, for they often laughed and joked together. He just did not behave in that manner toward her. Oh, it was all too confusing.

  Pamela settled in the bed and blew out the candle. She hated being so at odds with everyone. Especially Jonathan. She knew she would barely get a wink of sleep after the set down he had given her. But the dark soothed her. She had to think decide what to do. She did not want him to be miffed with her. She did not want his anger, nor his cool indifference, to continue.

  She had admired him ever since they had met. When exactly that admiration had turned to true love, she had no idea, but now she was sure she loved him, him and no one else. And she was tired of Bath, or at least wasting her time with any other man but him.

  So what to do now? she sighed inwardly as she thumped her pillow trying to find some comfort. To take it upon herself to alter the character of their friendship would be to risk everything. To place her heart upon her sleeve, and hope he would not shred it.

  On the other hand, what if it was possible for him to return her feelings?

  It was a bold thought. It made her giddy just contemplating it. The enormity of caused her to sit up in the bed and re-light the candle. She went to her wardrobe, and looked her clothes over. She was not the wealthiest of all the girls of her set, but she did have a good wardrobe and jewels. Tasteful, but not ostentatious. Modest, but with just that hint of allure, a baring of the shoulder, a flash of ankle.

  She went over to the mirror and assessed herself candidly. Thick blond hair, which, whilst fairly straight, positively gleamed like a crown. Once it was curled around her temple, it was perfection itself. A fine forehead and brow, good ears which did not stick out like an elephant's, she reflected, thinking of the poor Clarence girl, and pitying her, for all her fortune was one of the best in the County.

  Moving further in her catalogue of her own attributes, she noted the darker color of her brows and lashes, and the lush length of the latter. Blue eyes, tilted slightly upwards in the corners, and like a stormy sea when aroused, her father had always said. But now they were bright and shining with hope.

  Her creamy complexion had been assiduously protected by bonnets and enhanced by creams and washing with milk. She had never been prey to the awful spots that some girls and boys developed as they matured into adulthood. High cheekbones, a fine delicate chin, and a pair of well-shaped red lips completed her visage. She had been told several times that they were kissable, but she had thus far never allowed anyone the liberty.

  She put her hand to her mouth, and tried to imagine it. A vision of Jonathan standing over her, so tall and proud and handsome with his gray eyes looking at her warmly, instead of censoriously, thrilled her to the core. She could feel her lips tingle and a shiver run down her spine.

  She turned back to the wardrobe, and planned her campaign with the thoroughness of an Army general. She knew exactly what to do. She would make Jonathan fall in love with her. She would be witty, intelligent, comport herself well, and in short, prove to him that they would be an excellent match.

  Pamela had no illusions. It would difficult, for many different reasons.

  Firstly, she had to get him to notice her as a woman, without being too obvious. Secondly, she had to prove to him that she would make a good vicar's wife, which would be no mean feat considering how selfish she had always been, and how badly she had behaved since she had been in Bath.

  Finally, she would have to convince her aunt that she and Jonathan were made for each other. She had reached her majority, so that apart from informing her solicitor Mr. Bundy for the sake of politeness, she was free to do as she pleased.

  But if she feared Jonathan's tongue-lashings, they were as nothing compared to what her aunt could dispense when the mood struck her.

  So, she would just have to be careful, and move things far enough along that there could be no going back. But there was a fine line between getting engaged and causing scandal. People were bound to talk anyway: the divine Miss Ashton marrying Jonathan Deveril, a vicar, of all people. She could just here them all atwitter now.

  But Pamela didn't care. She loved Jonathan. She would summon up all the detailed knowledge she had gleaned from the popular novels, and make herself a match with the man she loved.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Pamela's scheme to woo Jonathan for her husband got under way the very next morning. Her plan of attack had to be subtle, but persuasive. Warm, but not too heated. And it had to take place in full view of a houseful of companions and chaperones.

  She started off with a fine day gown of white lawn trimmed with dark blue satin ribbon around the hem, neckline, and short sleeves, the ribbons there being tied into bows.

  Breakfast being a relatively informal meal, she timed her arrival to ensure she was not last down, and thus got to sit across from Jonathan. She asked him if he had time that morning to take her over to the poorer area of the town. He doubted the wisdom of it, dressed as she was, but asked his sister if she would like to accompany them.

  Pamela had not had very much time to sew for the poor with her never-ending round of entertainments, but she brought what she could, and donated some fabric and some of her own things as well. If he thought the batiste night dresses too fine and delicately made for poor Mrs. Jenkins, who had to be twenty stone at least, he said nothing. There was no opportunity for intimate conversation between them, but she could take his arm when walking, and his hand when he helped her in and out of the Duke's carriage.

  When Sarah saw someone with whom she particularly wanted to speak, Pamela made room for the newcomer by seating herself next to Jonathan.

  "I don't mind, honestly. I know you prefer to ride facing," said she to Sarah, enjoying the nearness of the compelling man by her side.

  On the way back to the house, she said in a low tone, "I have taken what you said very much to heart, and shall speak with my aunt about her indiscreet behavior. I'm sorry if Elizabeth has been harmed in any way by anything we might have said inadvertently, and will do our best to make it up to her."

  Jonathan smiled slightly. "It's enough if you try to be a better friend to her. She admires you, and wishes she were more sociable."

  "But as you have pointed out, that can be a bad thing."

  He nodded. "It can indeed, if her name is paired with the wrong person. But the Duke and I have cleared things up, and we hope that most right-minded people will forget they ever heard such arrant nonsense."

  Pamela wondered whom Elizabeth had been paired with. She had never noticed anyone paying especial court to her, though as a Duke's sister she was worth cultivating, even though she was still very young.

  "What are your plans for the rest of
the day?" he asked now.

  "I thought to go over to see my old school friend, Belinda Bassett, who is in West Avenue, and from there go on to the milliner's. I am also quite out of material, and as you can see, I have nothing left to give after our visit this morning."

  "If you would like my sister and I to accompany you-"

  "But Sarah has her friend Angela with her now. I would not like to deprive her of that society."

  "Then I shall ask Elizabeth to go with you."

  "I should like that."

  But when they arrived back at the house, Elizabeth was unavailable, having gone out with her sister-in-law to the fabric shop in Cheap Street.

  "If we go there first, we may be able to catch them," Jonathan suggested.

  Vanessa Stone agreed to go with them. She had a list of errands of her own to run. She also wasn't averse to a bit of matchmaking. She was no fool. She could see the way the couple looked at each other, both when they were conversing, and especially when they thought the other was not looking. She thought it would be a very fine thing for Jonathan, but knew he would never dream of doing anything improper.

  Now Pamela, on the other hand, was a most determined young woman. In this case, she thought that might be no bad thing. Jonathan had rigidly denied himself happiness for far too long. It was high time he wed and set up his nursery.

  She could not imagine a finer husband and father, excepting her own beloved Clifford of course. And possibly the Duke, for Charlotte did seem to be the happiest of women, and they were a most romantic couple. If Jonathan could attain the happiness of his two friends, they would all be most content.

  So she set her plan into motion. She had the handsome vicar help her with her cloak, and got into the carriage first.

  Before Pamela could sit down next to her in the facing coach seat, she plunked down her wicker basket. "No, no, sit by Jonathan. I need to sort these items while we go along."

  Pamela made no objection, and did not seem to notice that Vanessa was putting them together on purpose. She got in and sat next to the vicar, and all three of them chatted for a short while about the various fine pieces of fabric the auburn-haired woman needed trimming or patterns for.

  But soon Vanessa lapsed into silence to allow the couple a chance for further intimacies.

  Jonathan said to Pamela in a low voice, "If I may say so, Miss Ashton, you are looking particularly fine this morning."

  "How kind of you. Yes, I worked very hard on this dress. I do enjoy making my own clothes. I'm not quite as good as the professionals in the area, of course, but I do most of the work myself and let them finish it off."

  "Very clever, I'm sure."

  "Not at all. There are many other women who do the same. There's no sense in spending more than one has to in order to dress well."

  Delighted at how well her plan was working thus far, Vanessa moved on to the next phase. Once they completed Pamela's purchases at the fabric shop, Vanessa said, "I'm going to have to get some things for Baby now. Jonathan, why don't you take Miss Ashton across the street for some chocolate? I'll join you in a moment."

  "Are you sure you don't need our help?" Pamela asked, before Jonathan could say a word.

  "Yes, I am. They'll put the parcels right in the carriage. Go, and please ask them to wrap up some of their marzipan for me to take back for Clifford."

  "Yes, of course, his favorite," Pamela said, having taken note of it in an effort to learn as much about Jonathan's friends as possible."

  "Just so. How kind of you to notice."

  "And perhaps some gingerbread for Elizabeth, Sarah, and yourself."

  "Indeed." Vanessa smiled. "I can just smell it now. So hurry you two, off you go!"

  Pamela waited for Jonathan to lodge a protest, but he merely offered her his arm, and escorted her across the street.

  She walked very closely to him, causing him to ask, "Are you cold?"

  "The wind is a bit biting out of the sun," she lied.

  He stepped more closely to her to protect her from the light breeze. She thought she was in Heaven.

  Once inside the elegant little shop with a large bay window and gilt fittings, he seated her at a vacant table near the window, and caught the waiter's eye.

  "What will you have? Does anything in the case take your fancy?"

  "Just chocolate will be fine, thank you."

  "Two chocolates, a box of marzipan to take with us, the largest slab of gingerbread you have, plus two chocolate éclairs and a slice of warm gingerbread to eat here."

  "No, really, Mr. Deveril, I don't need--" she protested.

  "Please don't deny me the pleasure. I happen to have noticed how fond of them you are. And don't you dare tell me, with your lovely figure, that you need to worry about what you eat."

  She blushed at the compliment, and tried not to let her elation show. Really, this was working out far better than she could have planned.

  "Thank you for being so considerate. Whilst we wait for Vanessa, I wonder if you would tell me about your days at Oxford. I had an argument with my aunt not long ago about women attending university. She said it would never happen. But I think a time will come when all spheres open to men shall be available to women as well."

  Jonathan smiled at her warmly. "My time at Oxford, both before and after the war, were the happiest times of my life. Good friends, wonderful opportunities for study and stimulating discussion..."

  Pamela sat back and enjoyed herself. She had seldom seen him so animated, and she began to realize another thing. Men liked to be listened to. She did not always have to make the wittiest remark, or talk about her own interests all the time.

  It was not just because she was carrying out her plan of conquest that she listened carefully. He really was a most fascinating man once she got to know him. His stories were not racy or shocking, what passed for 'entertaining' with many of her associates in Bath. She learned something from every sentence he uttered, about the world and about him.

  If she had had any doubts about her feelings for him before, sitting in the bakery together drinking chocolate dispelled them. She was truly, irrevocably, in love. She admired his sandy hair, his expressive gray eyes, his fine black suit with a wine colored cravat. Yes, here was a man whom she could be justly proud of no matter what the social situation.

  At length Jonathan looked around, catching several glances as he did so. He knew they made a fine couple, but that was the last thing he ought to have allowed anyone to think of them.

  "Oh my. It would appear that Vanessa has taken a great deal longer than she intended." He pulled his gold fob watch out of his pocket. "We're going to be late for dinner at this rate, and I fear perhaps the pastry will have spoiled your appetite."

  "I own it's actually made me even more hungry. There's nothing better than a good solid roast beef and Yorkshire pudding."

  "Glad to hear you say so. It's a particular favorite of mine."

  She restrained a smile. She had noticed.

  "Ah, here Vanessa is now," Jonathan said with evident relief.

  Vanessa greeted them both and apologized for the delay.

  "Never mind that. Have your gingerbread," he said, raising his finger for the waiter to bring another chocolate.

  "I shall bolt this down so we're not late for dinner."

  "Not at all, my dear. Miss Ashton and I await your convenience."

  "Jonathan was just telling me about his days at Oxford. I had no idea your husband was such a great scholar as well."

  "And the Duke of course is also a most learned and accomplished man," Vanessa replied, "though in his position in society, he has no reason to be. But he does not ask his servants to do anything he cannot do himself."

  Jonathan nodded. "Yes, you should have seen him chopping wood and tending the wounded in Portugal and Spain. He's a most remarkable man."

  "Yes, I had noticed. I've been most privileged to enjoy such good society here in Bath. And your little son is just a joy to be with."


  "Yes, he is, isn't he?" Vanessa said with a fond smile. "I never imagined I could ever dote upon something as much as he. I always had my nose in a book. Speaking of books, how is the course of study I suggested for you progressing?"

  "Very well," she fibbed. "First thing in the morning, and last thing before I go to bed. But you would know all about rising early, with the baby."

  She congratulated herself on turning the conversation deftly. Vanessa was once again off singing the praises of her darling infant. But she made herself a firm promise to make up for the reading she had missed, and to attend more lectures in Bath from now on.

  At length Vanessa had finished her chocolate and cake. Jonathan took up the box of marzipan and the other of gingerbread, and clinked some coins down in the tray.