Lord Rakehell

by Virginia Henley

  “Don’t tempt me. We’re here to give you a swimming lesson, not play wicked games.”

  Anne gave the water a hesitant glance. “How deep do you think it is?”

  “It’s graduated. It starts out shallow, then deepens to about six feet.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Are you game for a dip? Or does it intimidate you too much?”

  Anne’s look of hesitation vanished immediately. “Of course not. I trust you implicitly.”

  “Foolish wench. You can trust me not to drown you, but that’s the only promise I’ll make, my beauty.”

  “I would expect nothing more, Lord Rakehell. Turn your back while I remove my clothes.”

  James began to chuckle.

  “You are laughing at me,” she accused.

  “I’m laughing at your innocence. You offer to let me be your bath slave, then order me to turn my back while you undress.”

  Anne tossed her head. “On second thought, that’s completely unnecessary.” She took off her shirt, removed her riding skirt, and stood before him in a silk half corset and white drawers edged with lavender ruffles.

  His appreciative glance swept over her. “If all your undergarments are this provocative, then God help me!”

  Her mouth curved in a smile, and she gave him back his own words. “We are here to give me a swimming lesson, not play wicked games.”

  “Perhaps we can do both.” James stripped down to his underdrawers and stepped into the water. “I would advise you to remove your riding boots.”

  “The sight of you taking off your clothes robbed me of my senses. I didn’t realize I was still wearing them,” she confessed. She took off her boots and sat down on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water.

  James took hold of her corset strings and pulled her toward him. She opened her legs and wrapped them about his waist. His hands slid beneath her bum cheeks, and he carried her out into deeper water.

  “It’s so warm and inviting.”

  He brushed his lips against her brow. “Mmm, and the water feels lovely too.” He groaned as he brushed his palm along her tempting thigh. “With your long legs wrapped about the small of my back, I could stay this way forever.”

  It was Anne’s turn to groan. “You make me feel utterly desirable.”

  The wet slide of skin produced liquid tremors until they were both almost drowning with need. James was well aware that desire was capable of overcoming every scruple of what was right and proper. He forced himself to think of her innocence. This was supposed to be a swimming lesson, not an exercise in foreplay and arousal. He removed his hands from her thighs and spoke as a tutor rather than a lover. “I want you to learn how to float. I’ll place my arms beneath your back so you won’t sink. If you fill your lungs with air, it will make you buoyant.”

  She took a shuddering breath and tried to focus her thoughts on his instructions. When her body threatened to sink, she was immediately reassured when she felt her back come in contact with his strong arms.

  “It’s a matter of confidence. Put your head all the way back and trust me.”

  Within minutes, Anne was floating.

  “To propel you backward or forward, gently waft your hands as if they were fins.”

  She did as he suggested, and to her amazement began to float away from him.

  He followed her slowly and gave her a thumbs-up sign to add to her confidence. “You don’t need me anymore. All you have to do, if you feel yourself start to sink, is put your feet on the bottom and stand up.”

  She began to laugh and brought her feet down. “How did such simple logic elude me?”

  “Perhaps your thoughts were filled with flights of fancy rather than the task at hand.”

  She threw him a provocative smile. “You stole my senses.”

  “Can you recover them long enough for that swimming lesson?”

  “Does it involve touching me?” she asked hopefully.

  “Not intimately. I place my hand beneath your chin to keep you from swallowing water, while you move your limbs in imitation of a frog.”

  “Show me how.”

  As James cut smoothly through the water to the deep end of the pool and returned to her side, Anne watched him, mesmerized by his male beauty. He could have posed for the Roman statues in the villa’s gardens.

  “You make it look so easy.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “Yes . . . I know,” she teased. “I’m looking forward to all my lessons.”

  With infinite patience he instructed her until she was able to take a few strokes on her own without sinking. He rewarded her with a lingering kiss. “You’ll have to dry yourself, sweetheart. I don’t trust myself with a towel.”

  When they arrived back at the villa, the servants were stirring and appetizing aromas were coming from the kitchen.

  “If you hurry, you will have time to change and be in the breakfast room before Alexandra arises, and none will know the scandalous things we’ve been up to.” He cupped her shoulders, drew her close, and pressed his lips to the damp curls on her brow.

  “Must you leave now, James?”

  “I must. I have things to do. I’m going to start looking for a house for us.”

  “You have a house.”

  “That’s just a town house. I’m talking about a big house, with a garden, and stables, and a nursery of course. When you become Lady Hamilton, I want you to be a full-time wife and mother. Isn’t that what you want, my beauty?”

  “Yes. With all my heart.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “I t’s out of the question!” Richard Curzon-Howe stared fiercely across his desk at James Hamilton. “How you have the barefaced effrontery to ask for my daughter’s hand in marriage is beyond me.”

  Though James was both shocked and offended at Earl Howe’s vehement reaction to his proposal of marriage, he masked his emotions. He remained silent in the face of the man’s outrage, knowing that Anne’s father had not finished his tirade.

  “I have given approval for my daughter’s marriage to John Claud Hamilton, with whom she has had an understanding for years.”

  “With due respect, my lord, Lady Anne has assured me that she has no intention of becoming my brother’s wife,” James stated firmly.

  The earl’s face contorted with anger. “It is obvious that during John Claud’s absence in Ireland, you have gone behind his back and tried your utmost to seduce my daughter. ’Tis unconscionable!”

  “I assure you, Lord Howe, that I would never attempt to seduce Lady Anne. I have only the highest respect for your daughter. I asked her to become my wife, and she has accepted my proposal.”

  The earl jumped to his feet and thumped his fist on his polished desk. “And I, sir, am refusing it! I will never consent to a marriage between you. Your morals stink to high heaven; your reputation as a womanizer is as legendary as the profligate prince you serve.”

  James Hamilton stood up, and bowed his head politely. “Good day, my lord.”

  • • •

  James felt as stunned as a bird flown into a wall as he left Grosvenor Square. This was in stark contrast to the way he had felt when he arrived for his appointment with Anne’s father. He had been on top of the world, brimming with confidence that he had finally decided to marry the beauty with whom he was in love. The decision felt so right; he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Anne, and he was overjoyed that she felt the same way.

  As he made his way to his town house in White Horse Street, he laid the blame for his thwarted plans squarely on the rigid shoulders of Richard Curzon-Howe. James was highly offended at the accusations the earl had hurled at him, and self-righteously denied that he was in any way to blame for the scandalous things that were circulated about him.

  By the time night descended, however, his innate honesty forced him to
admit that there was perhaps a grain of truth in the fact that his morals had not always been of the highest standard. Where Anne was concerned, however, his intentions were above reproach, and he truly believed that it was completely unfair to be dismissed out of hand by the sanctimonious earl. He paced about his study, as one thought chased another.

  Lord Howe completely rejects me as a son-in-law, but would welcome John Claud with open arms. How bloody ironic is that?

  I am heir to the dukedom of Abercorn. Any other noble in England would consider it an honor to give me his daughter in marriage! After a moment’s reflection he admitted, Trouble is, I don’t want the daughter of any other noble in England.

  James opened the window and leaned on the sill, going over every insulting word Earl Howe had flung at him.

  I have given approval for my daughter’s marriage to John Claud Hamilton.

  James crashed his fist on the windowsill. “God in heaven, both of us must have asked Anne’s father for her hand in the same week, and the earl has given his consent to my brother!”

  Lord Hamilton, who was never at a loss when presented with a problem, found himself with a dilemma on his hands that would be hard to resolve. Of course it was all the more difficult that John Claud was his brother, and not some random suitor. Difficult perhaps, but not impossible, he vowed.

  Though the hour was late, James retied his cravat and donned his jacket. He took a hansom cab to Hampden House, and opened the door with his own key. Inside, the house was quiet and in semidarkness. He was on his way to his brother’s bedchamber when he spotted a light coming from beneath the library door. He quietly opened it and found John Claud sitting behind the desk.

  “I see the member from Londonderry is burning the midnight oil to catch up on his parliamentary paperwork. Politics comes with responsibilities. You’ll soon get used to it.”

  “What the devil are you doing here at this hour?” John Claud asked warily.

  “I came to see you.”

  John Claud threw down his pen. “What’s this about?”

  “A few days ago I asked Lady Anne Howe to become my wife. She said yes.”

  John Claud jumped to his feet. “Damn you, James. I proposed to her the day I returned from Ireland at the Royal Academy of Arts.”

  James closed the distance between them. “And I believe her answer was no.” He placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “In spite of her refusal, you have somehow managed to get her father’s approval.”

  John Claud sneered. “Earl Howe has made it plain that he has chosen me for his daughter’s husband.”

  “That is irrelevant. Lady Anne has not chosen you for her husband. She has chosen me. Tomorrow, you will go to the earl and withdraw your offer.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “I’ll beat the shit out of you.” James reached across the desk and grabbed his brother by the throat.

  Rising fear caused John Claud to gabble. “I didn’t ask him for his daughter’s hand. I told him I’d proposed to Anne, and admitted she hadn’t accepted me.”

  James loosened his hands and demanded, “Then why did he tell me that he had given approval for his daughter’s marriage to John Claud Hamilton?”

  “Oh my God, you asked him for Anne’s hand in marriage, and he refused you?!” John Claud began to laugh. “Well, well, James, it seems we are at an impasse. She won’t become my wife, but without her father’s consent, she won’t become your wife either!”

  The look of contempt James gave his brother would have shamed a more ethical man, but John Claud relished his role of dog in the manger.

  The library door opened and their mother looked from one son to the other. It was obvious they were having an altercation of some sort. She knew that when young men engaged in heated quarrels, the source of their conflict was usually a woman, and she was almost certain it was Anne Howe. In her wisdom, however, Lady Lu knew better than to interfere between brothers.

  “I apologize for disturbing you, Mother. I was just leaving.”

  “Apology accepted, James. Make sure the door is locked.”

  • • •

  Two dozen invitations to Princess Alexandra’s garden party had been issued and accepted by the leading ladies of the ton. The number of guests who arrived, however, was greater than twenty-four, as Anne and Frances had predicted, since both mothers and daughters of those invited had begged to be included.

  Anne was delighted when her mother arrived, driving her own carriage. She took great pride in formally introducing the Princess of Wales to Countess Howe, and was particularly pleased when Alix asked her mother to sit at her table.

  Anne and Frances greeted Caroline Chandos, who came with her widowed grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Harrington, in tow.

  “Thank you so much for the lovely invitation. My grandmother is simply dying to meet Princess Alexandra.”

  “How do you do, Lady Harrington. If you come with me, I’ll present you now.” Anne hid her amusement. No doubt the dowager will sing the praises of Caroline in hope the Princess of Wales will appoint her as a lady-in-waiting.

  The prime minister’s wife rubbed shoulders with the Duchess of Abercorn, and her titled daughters Harry and Trixy, the Countesses of Lichfield and Durham. Even thirteen-year-old Maud had persuaded her mother to let her attend the tea party.

  Frances led them to a table beneath a chestnut tree, and rolled her eyes. “I warrant there are so many Hamiltons here, there won’t be enough cucumber and watercress sandwiches for the other guests.”

  Lady Lu waved her hand. “Then let them eat cake, darling.”

  Anne and Frances greeted their friend Florence Hastings, who had arrived alone, and invited her to sit with them at their table.

  “I was hesitant about coming to the garden party today. I feared everyone would be gossiping about my husband. The rivalry between Henry Chaplin and Hastings has intensified to an alarming degree. Last week at Tattersall’s auction they were trying to outbid each other on a racehorse called Hermit. It turned into a bidding war between the two of them. Hastings bid the astronomical sum of two hundred thousand pounds; then Henry Chaplin, determined to outdo him, offered two hundred and fifty thousand.”

  “Well, think of the money your husband saved,” Frances said.

  Florence pressed her lips together. “The Prince of Wales cheered when Henry Chaplin outbid my husband for Hermit. Hastings has been in a drunken rage ever since.”

  “I’m so sorry, Florence. Frances and I should never have encouraged you to marry him. We thought you were in love with each other.”

  “Hastings didn’t love me. It was rivalry, pure and simple, that was driving him. I don’t think men are capable of love.”

  You’re wrong, Florence. Anne thought of the rivalry between James and John Claud, and dismissed it immediately. “I’m glad you decided to come today. An afternoon with your friends is just what you needed.”

  Florence smiled brightly and shook off her cares. “This Thames-side villa is so inviting. It’s the perfect place for a garden party.”

  The tables were set with fine Irish linen, Georgian silver, exquisite Meissen porcelain with its delicate birds and butterflies, and Venetian crystal glasses. Every table had a large centerpiece of fragrant flowers cut that morning by the proud head gardener, Harry Hargrave, and artistically arranged by Lady Elizabeth. And at each place setting was a delicate camellia from the conservatory.

  All the fashion-conscious ladies had ordered new gowns for the occasion, but all agreed that the Princess of Wales, wearing crisp white muslin, whose sash matched her blue silk parasol, had never looked more elegant. One or two of the ladies speculated, behind their fans of course, whether Princess Alexandra was already with child. It would certainly explain why she was spending the summer in such a tranquil setting, rather than accompanying the Prince of Wales on the racing ci
rcuit.

  The guests strolled about the Italian gardens, admiring the sculptures of the naked Roman gods, and exclaiming over blossoms in the orange orchard. Most were agog over a visit to the pagan temple dedicated to the goddess Venus, where sandalwood incense burned on the altar and a pair of colorful lovebirds flitted about among the whimsical wind chimes.

  Lady Lu declared to her daughters, “Venus is the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility. Thankfully, we have all three.” On the way out of the temple, she spied Lady Anne, who was wearing a gown of leaf green muslin and carrying a white silk parasol. “My dear, you look absolutely beautiful. You are radiating happiness.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. I do feel exceptionally happy today.” She smiled at James’s mother, knowing it wouldn’t be long before the Hamiltons learned her secret. Perhaps Lady Lu has already guessed.

  The guests seemed reluctant to leave and the sun had begun its descent before the ladies decided to take their leave. Anne spied her mother entering the villa with the princess and hurried to catch up with them. When she saw Lady Elizabeth sorting through the post, she said, “I heard so many compliments about your lovely flower arrangements. They made the tables look delightfully festive.”

  “Thank you, my dear. The tea party was a resounding success.” She held up a few envelopes. “Some of the acceptances are only just arriving. It’s a good thing we assumed everyone we invited would turn up.”

  Anne laughed. “Not many people turn down a royal invitation.”

  “The post delivered a letter for you, my dear.”

  Anne’s pulse began to race as she took the envelope from Elizabeth. When she saw it was from James, she was filled with joy. My first love letter! She tore open the envelope and took out the note, breathless with anticipation.

  Her eyes focused on the beautiful script: My darling Anne. Her mouth curved as she read the endearment. Her smile faded as she continued to read.

  It pains me to tell you that when I formally asked your father for your hand in marriage, he refused me outright.