The Rake

by Georgeanne Hayes

  Meekly, Demi left the room and walked ahead of her aunt to her aunt’s room. She’d never been in her aunt’s room more than once or twice and once they were in the sitting room, she glanced around curiously as her aunt disappeared into her bedchamber. A few moments later, she reappeared with a small vial and held it out. “A capful, I should think, will be enough to settle your nerves.”

  Nodding, Demi took the vial and studied it for several moments. She’d never taken any, but she knew that both Lady Moreland and Phoebe dosed themselves with it whenever they were overwrought and unable to rest. Removing the lid with fingers that shook, she studied it a moment and finally put the bottle to her lips and turned it up, taking a long swallow. It tasted ghastly.

  Before she could take another sip, her aunt slapped the bottle from her hand. “Are you out of your mind? You cannot … gulp it as if it were nothing but water! You will kill your fool self!”

  Demi stared at her wide eyed. “I have taken too much?” she gasped, horrified.

  Lady Moreland shook her head, though she looked distinctly unnerved as she picked up the bottle and examined it. “Most of it has spilled now. How am I to tell that, you wretched girl!”

  Demi placed a hand over her stomach and one over her wildly fluttering heart. “Do you think I should try to bring it up?” she asked, feeling a cold fear wash over her with the realization that she’d swallowed something potentially fatal. Her aunt wasn’t inclined to worry overmuch about her. If she was anxious, then Demi certainly felt that there was cause for alarm.

  “And have you arrive at the church smelling as if you’d just been sick!” Lady Moreland snapped. Finally, she shook her head. “I’m sure it was not more than a swallow and you will be fine. You have only just broke your fast, so you’ve enough food in your stomach to make it safe enough, I feel certain.”

  Demi stared at her aunt wide-eyed, wondering if she should admit that she hadn’t broken her fast. She’d felt too ill after the unsettling events the night before, and with lack of sleep, to feel up to tackling food so soon after she’d woken.

  With an effort, she calmed herself. She’d taken no more than a sip. It could not be enough to truly hurt her, she felt certain, and if it affected her more powerfully because of her empty stomach, she wasn’t convinced that was altogether a bad thing. Drawing in a calming breath, she nodded and followed her aunt from the room and down the corridor to the stairs.

  A faint dizziness washed over her as she descended the stairs, but she assured herself it was merely nerves and lack of sleep. She’d only just taken the medicine. It could not affect her so quickly. She would be fortunate if it had calmed her nerves by the time they reached the church.

  She discovered once they’d settle in the carriage, however, that she felt oddly peaceful for someone who was facing marriage with a dread not unlike someone facing the hangman. She even managed to smile at her cousin Phoebe when she settled beside her aunt.

  “Are you all right, Demitria?” Phoebe asked her after a bit.

  Demi dragged her gaze from the bizarre landscape they were passing and smiled at her cousin. “I think so. Yes.”

  “I gave her a bit of laudanum to settle her nerves,” Lady Moreland volunteered.

  Phoebe leaned forward, studying Demi’s eyes. Snickering, Demi leaned forward and put her nose to her cousin’s.

  Phoebe leaned back abruptly, frowning. “Do I look … like that, when I’ve had a dose of laudanum?” she asked in revulsion.

  Lady Moreland frowned and Demi snickered again. “I told her only a capful. She took a great swallow instead, but no more than that. I expect it was a bit more than she should have had though, for she is not accustomed to taking it. We shall have to hurry or we’ll end up having to hold her up to say her vows,” she added irritably, and leaned forward to rap on the panel behind the driver. The panel slid open. “Faster, if you please.”

  The panel closed again and the carriage began to rock rather alarmingly … at least, Phoebe and Lady Moreland looked rather alarmed. Demi grasped the strap on the side of the carriage above her seat and chuckled as she stared out the window dreamily at the landscape, which had turned into a wild blur of colors. As suddenly as the carriage had picked up speed, however, it decreased so sharply that Phoebe and Lady Moreland nearly slid out of their seats. They released little yelps of surprise, which Demi found extremely funny, and then began to babble excitedly, wondering aloud what was happening as the carriage abruptly rocked to a shuddering halt.

  The door was snatched open and Demi stared in surprise at Garrett. “Why, hallo, Garrett! You’ve come to see me married off to that great, hulking, prosy brute, Flemming?”

  He frowned, his lips settling in a thin, tight line. “Nay. I’ve come to put a stop to this insanity. Come with me!”

  Demi looked at him questioningly a moment but held out her hand readily. “Where are we going?”

  “Now see here, my lord! You cannot accost us on the king’s highway in broad day light like a … a brigand, and spirit my niece off for your nefarious purposes!” Lady Moreland gasped in outrage, having found her voice at last.

  “I already have,” he said tightly. “Come, Demi. You’ll not be marrying the pastor today … or any other day, for that matter.”

  “Don’t even think about it, my girl! If you get out of this carriage, I wash my hands of you!”

  Demi studied her aunt soberly for several moments. “I think it would be a relief, Aunt Alma.”

  “It won’t be when he tires of you and casts you into the gutter with all the other harlots, mark my words! And he will, you little fool! Think before you do this foolish thing. You needn’t think you can come crawling back to me when he discards you like an old shoe!”

  Demi nodded. “I’ll remember … I’m not to come back. Good-bye, Cousin Phoebe,” she said agreeably, allowing Garrett to help her from the carriage. When she’d gained the road and looked around, she saw that Garrett had a pistol trained on the driver. She looked at the pistol curiously and then at the driver. “You held up the carriage?”

  Garrett gave her a piercing look but returned his attention to the driver, motioning with the barrel of the gun for the driver to set the horses in motion once more.

  Demi turned to wave at her aunt and cousin. Lady Moreland, her nose in the air, was staring angrily at the seat across from her and didn’t even bother to glance her way. Phoebe was staring at both Demi and Garrett as if they had grown two heads. Shrugging, Demi turned back to Garrett, watching as he slipped his pistol into his saddle bag. When he’d fastened it, he turned to her, caught her around the waist, and then lifted her up and settled her on the front of his saddle. She grasped a fistful of the horse’s mane as he climbed up behind her. When he slipped an arm around her waist to steady her, she settled back against him trustingly, her lips curling in a smile.

  “Fitzhugh is to meet us on the Bath road. We’ll save time if we cut across country. I don’t expect Flemming to try anything, but I’ll feel better when I have you safely away from here.”

  Demi frowned, trying to decide whether she was particularly worried about it and finally decided that she wasn’t. She couldn’t seem to feel much of anything beyond a glorious sense of relief that she wasn’t going to have to marry Jonathan Flemming after all. Nodding, she stroked Garrett’s thigh lovingly for deciding to take her as his mistress after all, despite the awful things she’d said, after she’d nearly gotten him into trouble the night before.

  His hand tightened on her waist as he turned the horse and kicked it into a trot. It moved along the road for a short distance, then gathered itself and jumped the hedgerow at the side of the road. The jolt when they landed on the other side snapped Demi’s teeth together. Her head swum dizzily, making concentration difficult.

  She realized though that she was in Garrett’s arms and that was just the place she wanted to be. Now he was hers … for as long as it lasted, but she didn’t want to think about that. He was hers for now. He wanted her.
He would take her far away from her aunt and make love to her any time she wanted him to.

  It was a heady thought, and sent a spiral of warmth through her, making the muscles low in her belly clench in excitement and anticipation. After a moment, she pulled his hand from her waist and pushed it downward, cupping it against her femininity through her clothes. He stiffened slightly, but after a moment, his hand cupped her tightly, his fingers stroking her.

  Heat surged through her. The motion of his hands, and the movements of the horse beneath them reminded her of their lovemaking. Need began to thrum through her veins and the cloth became a nuisance, preventing her from enjoying his caress. Gathering her skirts, she pulled them out of the way and guided his hand to the slit in the crotch of her pantalets. A groan escaped her as she felt his touch on the tiny nub of flesh just above her woman’s place.

  She stroked his thighs as he stroked her and finally reached behind and between them to rub the erect member she felt digging into her back, stroking him through his breeches as he’d stroked her through her skirts. She felt his heated breath against her cheek a moment before he spoke.

  “As much as I’d like to accommodate you, this is not the time, my dear,” he growled against her ear.

  “We needn’t stop,” she gasped a little desperately. “Only let me touch you as you touch me.”

  He groaned. After a moment, however, he released her and unfastened his breeches and she slipped her hand around his heated length, stroking him as he slipped his arm around her again and began to stroke her once more. His breath became as ragged as her own. Finally, he pulled back on the reins. When the horse stopped, he pulled her hand from his flesh and Demi twisted around to give him a look of reproach. His lips twisted. “This is more insane, if at all possible, than holding up your aunt’s coach,” he growled, catching her face with one hand and leaning down to kiss her deeply.

  Demi kissed him back fervently, struggling to turn in the restricted space and face him. He tightened his arms around her, lifting her slightly so that she could turn to meet him fully and Demi wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself tightly against him. The horse sidled beneath them, jogging forward a couple of steps and he pulled back on the reins once more.

  Only peripherally aware of anything beyond the feel of Garrett against her and the heat surging through her as he kissed her, Demi shifted until she felt his erection slide along her cleft teasingly. She arched her hips, moving against him as she kissed him back with equal fervor, following him as he withdrew his tongue from her mouth and exploring his mouth as he’d caressed hers. He groaned. Reaching down, he lifted her hips slightly and aligned his own body with hers, rocking his hips until his erection began to slip inside of her inch by excruciating inch.

  At last, he plumbed her depths and a sense of triumph filtered through Demi’s heat fogged mind as pleasure radiated outward from the intimate caress. Tightening her thighs, she lifted upward slightly and then settled down on his lap again. Abruptly, the horse jogged forward again. This time, however, instead of pulling it to a halt, Garrett allowed it to break into a fast walk and the horse’s gait bounced them gently against each other, sending out shards of glorious sensation with each grinding contact of their bodies.

  Demi wanted it to go on forever, but within moments, she felt her body tensing toward completion. Groaning, she moved a little faster. As if her voice or her movements encouraged the horse, it began to move a little more quickly, jouncing them together harder and faster so that his manhood stroked her faster, harder, deeper each time they came together. Demi cried out abruptly as the pleasure built to a crescendo and crashed explosively through her. Garrett’s arms tightened around her, pulling the horse to a stop as he convulsed with pleasure moments behind her.

  Demi lay weakly against him, feeling wonderfully sated and vaguely pleased with herself. Dimly, she realized that at least a part of her satisfaction was that she’d provoked him into making love to her when he’d been reluctant to do so, but part, she knew was also because she couldn’t believe he would soon grow tired of her if she inspired his lust to the point where he threw caution to the wind as he just had … in the open where they might be seen, on the back of a horse.

  Almost as if he’d read her mind, he muttered, “That was more than a little insane.”

  Demi snuggled closer, feeling herself sinking toward sleep. “It felt wonderful, though,” she murmured groggily.

  His arms tightened around her briefly, but then he gently disentangled himself from her, reaching between them to adjust his clothing. Demi made a half hearted attempt to adjust her own clothing, but she found that she was so sleepy she really didn’t care. She could hardly keep her eyes open or hold her head upright. It seemed far too heavy for her neck.

  Garrett gave her a little shake and finally grasped her jaw, tilting her face up. She managed a faint smile but found she couldn’t lift her eyelids. Garrett pried one eyelid up with his thumb. It jolted her enough that she drew back, looking at him questioningly. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked harshly.

  Demi smiled. “Nothing, my lord. I’m just a little sleepy.”

  He shook her. “Demi, wake up!”

  She opened her eyes again.

  “What did you take?”

  She frowned, thinking it over. “Just a little laudanum,” she said finally, surprised to discover her words were as slurred as if she’d been drinking strong spirits. “Aunt Alma said it would relax me.”

  “Christ! I should have known.” He shook her again. “How much did you take?”

  “Doan know … big gulp.”

  “Right out of the bottle? Did you dilute it?”

  “Nope.”

  Dismounting abruptly, he dragged her off the horse and slowly lowered her until she was kneeling on the ground. “You’ve had too much. You need to expel what you can.”

  Demi looked at him in confusion. “Can’t spit it out. Done drank it.”

  He shook her again, harder this time. “Run your finger down your throat, or I will.”

  She glared at him. “I don’t want to be sick. I want to sleep.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he ground out, prying her jaws apart and running his finger down her throat. Gagging, she retched into the grass until she could retch no more. Somewhere in the rounds, the desperate need to sleep began to dissipate slightly. She was aware enough, at any rate, to realize she’d had quite enough.

  When Garrett caught her jaw once more, she opened her eyes wide. “Not sleepy anymore,” she lied.

  He studied her eyes grimly for several moments, but apparently he was satisfied. After a moment, he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She took it, sitting back on her heels as she wiped her mouth. Moving back to the horse, he pulled the flask from his saddle bag that he’d handed her once before and strode back to her.

  Pulling the top off, he held it to her lips. “Don’t swallow it. Just rinse your mouth with it. Understand?”

  She nodded and did as he told her. Finally, he helped her to her feet, lifted her and settled her on the horse again. With an effort, she held on until he was mounted behind her. Cursing again, he pulled the veil from her hair and tossed it to the ground. “Don’t go to sleep, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

  Nodding meekly, she cast around in her mind for something to say. Nothing came immediately to mind, however. “About what?”

  “Anything,” he said grimly, pulling her tightly against him and urging the horse into motion once more.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” she said finally. “I didn’t mean … any of that.”

  “None of it?” he asked absently.

  She frowned, thinking it over. “I wanted you to make love to me,” she said finally. “You didn’t, though, did you?”

  His arm tightened around her. “I’d as soon not talk about all of the incredibly stupid things I’ve said and done since we met, love. We’ll sort that out another time. Suffice to say Sarah gave
me a good dressing down and brought me to my senses in time to prevent complete disaster.”

  Demi twisted around to look at him. “Sarah?”

  Smiling faintly, he lifted his hand from her waist long enough to caress her cheek briefly. “Aye, Sarah.”

  Demi thought it over. Something had been nagging at her since the night before when she’d listened at the door to the conversation between Lord Wyndham and the servant. “You did not … share your bed with Sarah?”

  He looked taken aback. “Good God! I should think not!” A worried frown marred his brow in the next moment. “The opium in the laudanum … don’t allow that to take hold of your mind, love. The answer is most definitely not. I arranged another room for her at the inn. She did not sleep in my room and certainly not in my bed.

  “She’s a handsome woman, I’ll warrant you that, but I’ve no eyes … and no desire, for anyone but you. I would think that would be abundantly clear to you by now, love.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Garrett kept her talking for hours it seemed. They reached the Bath road eventually and rode along it for several miles before they came upon Garrett’s coach. Garrett dismounted, tied the reins to the back of the coach and finally helped her from the horse. Holding her arm and walking her around to the side of the coach, he helped her to climb in, then followed her inside. Fitzhugh gave Garrett a disapproving look as he closed the door. “I thought you would ride along side, my lord.”

  Garrett frowned. “Her aunt dosed her with laudanum to make certain she was … not difficult. I’ll stay with her for a bit, at least until I’m convinced she’s past the worst of it.”

  “Very good, sir,” Fitzhugh said at once and turned away, climbing up beside the driver.

  “I’m fine,” Demi assured him.

  “Still sleepy?”

  She bit her lip. “Only a little … but I did not sleep much last night,” she reminded him.