Society's Most Scandalous Rake

by Isabelle Goddard

  Her father was frowning, looking from one to the other, and when he spoke his tone was brisk. ‘I am sure it is an excellent way of keeping fit, but my daughter enjoys riding. In Argentina she was constantly in the saddle.’

  ‘And do you still ride in England?’

  ‘A little. The fresh air is beneficial, but trotting tamely on Rotten Row is hardly exacting.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should try something else.’

  ‘What would you suggest?’ she challenged, hardly daring to imagine what form of exercise he had in mind.

  ‘For something a little more demanding, why don’t you try sea bathing?’ His voice was bland, but she felt sure he was laughing just below the surface.

  ‘I hardly think that would be suitable,’ her father interrupted.

  ‘I assure you it is all the fashion. The ladies have their own part of the beach, you know, and are well looked after by the “dippers”—the bathing attendants.’

  ‘But still, it would not do. Your aunts…’ Alfredo left the sentence unfinished.

  ‘They would certainly not contemplate sea bathing.’ Domino’s face lit with amusement at what those very proper ladies would make of such a suggestion.

  ‘But should you not enjoy all that Brighton has to offer before you return to London?’

  ‘My daughter will not be returning to London,’ Alfredo said decisively.

  Joshua did not look at him, but instead fixed Domino with an intense gaze. ‘You will not be staying in town this autumn?’

  ‘I will be returning to Spain,’ she said quietly.

  ‘That is sad news.’ His voice held genuine regret. ‘But before you go, you can surely spare us a few weeks in the capital?’

  Her father once more intervened. ‘I regret not. My daughter has a very important date to keep and must leave for Spain immediately when the Brighton season ends.’

  Joshua looked at her enquiringly.

  ‘I am to be married, Mr Marchmain, and must return to Spain to meet my bridegroom.’ She touched her father’s arm and, with a brief bow in Joshua’s direction, they were gone.

  For a moment he stood motionless, hardly able to believe her words. Then he wheeled around abruptly and made for the changing room, his mind buzzing noisily. Married? But to whom? She had said that she was going to Spain to meet her bridegroom, which meant, dear God, that she did not yet know the man. She did not know the man with whom she was destined to spend the rest of her life. An arranged marriage! Fury welled up in him and he slashed blindly at the walls as he strode along the passageway. Whatever Charlotte had intimated, the girl was an innocent. How could her father dream of sacrificing her in such a way; how could she think of agreeing to give herself to a stranger? The idea that any young woman might offer herself to a man she did not know sat uneasily with him, but this was Domino. Domino! A girl so enchanting, so full of youthful joy, that he could have wept iron tears. He dressed quickly and every layer of clothing was donned in rage. He did not understand the fury that was shaking him, but he could not remember ever feeling so angry.

  He had to get himself under control. He hardly knew the girl—it was madness to react so strongly to an arranged marriage. In his world they were frequent; indeed, his personal world was built on them, he thought cynically. Loveless partnerships were the hunting ground for any self-respecting rake. And that was what he was—an ugly label, but one that suited him. A rake never pondered the past, for he had no past. He suffered no confusion, for he knew exactly who he was and so did the women who chose to tangle with him. And what he also knew was that innocent buds such as Domino were best avoided. That particular lesson had been seared early on this rake’s soul. He should need no reminding.

  * * *

  Seated beside her father as they rattled their way home, Domino was gratified that she had startled Joshua from his customary calm. He had looked genuinely shocked when she had announced she was to be married. Could it be that he cared for her, or was it simply that he found appalling the idea of an arranged marriage? Hardly. Over the years he must have benefited from any number, the comforter of wives who had no love for their husbands. Yet his face had shadowed with the news, as though he would wish to save her from that fate. Or preserve her for his own dishonourable intentions—that was more likely. He could not have developed a tendre for her, she reasoned. Rakes didn’t do that; it was more than their career was worth to care for the women they made their lovers.

  Her father’s words had brought home to her how swiftly the weeks were passing. Marriage was ceasing to be an abstract notion and rapidly becoming reality. Once Richard had disappeared from her life, she had not cared who she wed. She would endure the intimacies of married life, impassive and acquiescent. But the events of this morning suggested otherwise. Joshua Marchmain’s face and body were his stock in trade but, even knowing that, her response had been intense. Hungry, even. She had loved Richard passionately, but she had never experienced the sheer elemental need that just a short while ago had swept through her. And it was not the first time that she had been in danger of succumbing to this magnetic attraction. Every time Joshua arrived on the scene she had to exercise the tightest control over her emotions. Today she had lost that control. Surely she could not be seriously attracted to such an arrogant user of women. Yet those golden eyes had only to settle on her, that lazy smile flicker her way, that hard muscular body move close to her, and she became someone she hardly recognised.

  * * *

  Her restlessness reached a new peak in the days that followed. She needed to be constantly on the move and forgot her earlier reluctance to be seen abroad. Every morning she set off with her maid in tow to explore an unknown part of the Sussex landscape, winding through the town and up the hills to a viewpoint far above the sea, or along the shoreline itself, or following the pathways that circled the foot of the Downs. Poor Flora was hard put to keep up with her mistress. On one of their walks along the seafront, they came to the ladies’ beach that Joshua had spoken of.

  ‘Look, Flora.’ She drew her maid’s attention to the horse-drawn bathing machines carrying the swimmers into shallow waters. From there the professional dippers helped their female customers into the sea.

  Her maid shuddered. ‘It’s not proper, miss.’

  ‘The women change in the carriages and then just slip into the sea. It seems quite modest,’ Domino said thoughtfully.

  Flora sniffed, unconvinced. ‘Mebbe, but I don’t reckon Señor de Silva would be too keen, nor Miss Carmela neither.’

  ‘But if so many women take part, it must be acceptable,’ Domino pursued, her interest now thoroughly aroused.

  ‘You’re never thinking of joining them, Miss Domino.’ Flora’s tone was scandalised. ‘And think how dangerous it must be.’

  A number of apprehensive women, clad in flannel gowns and caps, emerged from the carriages and cautiously dipped their bare toes in the water. Courage gained, they were soon venturing further out and in no time at all a flurry of bonneted heads were bobbing up and down in the waves.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Domino reasoned. ‘The water is shallow close to the shore and the dippers are there to provide security. Once the women are used to the sea, they’re all right. Just look at them.’

  She had a sudden longing to be there with them, to ride the waves thundering into the distance, to cleave her way through the surf out to the far horizon, to swim to an escape.

  But seeing Flora’s concerned expression, she only laughed and said reassuringly, ‘Don’t fret, it’s merely a silly fancy.’

  * * *

  The next day she excused herself from accompanying Carmela to a lunchtime recital at St Nicholas’s Church. Her father, too, was engaged, dealing with the daily round of official business, and she was able to slip out of the house unseen. Flora had been given the af
ternoon off and was already deep in the excitements of the stalls at Bartholomews. A ten-minute walk brought Domino to the ladies’ bathing beach and another five saw her slipping into the flannel bathing costume provided by the attendant. She gave a little gasp as she glimpsed her bare arms and legs but, peering out of the carriage doorway, she saw other women happily disporting themselves, seemingly without anxiety for their unclad state. It was female territory after all, she comforted herself, and the water looked delightful.

  It was. Soon she was luxuriating in the feel of the flowing tide, her body tingling to its touch. At first she bobbed up and down amid the waves, allowing the foam to swirl and curl around her toes. But then, more daringly, she began to cut a path through the undulating waves, feeling the sun warm on her bare face and arms. She was lighter than air, her body and mind at one in a weightless existence, all her troubles and confusions suspended. She swam effortlessly, on and on as though she would reach the horizon. But there was a strict time limit imposed on the bathers and all too soon she was forced to begin the return.

  The horse-drawn carriages once more loomed into close view, lined up on the shore like so many sentries watching over precious treasure. Reaching the shallows, she found her feet and picked her way carefully over the pebbled seabed. The wet costume clung tenaciously to her body and a thrill of womanly pleasure passed through her at the sensuous form it revealed. Tearing the cap from her head, she waded the last few yards ashore, black curls streaming wildly down her back. For an instant before she reached the shelter of the bathing machine she looked towards the promenade and turned scarlet with vexation. Joshua Marchmain again! How dare he! This was an area reserved only for ladies and all men were banned. Of course, he would not care for that. He cared for no convention. He would embarrass anyone he wished for his own pleasure. He had suggested to her that she should try sea bathing; it was clear now why. Not from any wish to afford her enjoyment, but so that he could view her better and nearly naked. Her anger turned to chagrin. How could she have imagined that he might harbour any genuine feeling? He was a rake through and through.

  Chapter Four

  She had looked like a water sprite from the deep and Joshua, watching her voluptuous progress ashore, had to restrain himself from wading out into the shallows and catching her in his arms. He had barely seen her since that evening at Steine House, just those few moments at Angelo’s when he had reacted so angrily to news of her future marriage. He had known then that he should put all thought of her out of his mind and had tried very hard to do so. Nevertheless he’d found himself looking for her at every gathering and her unexplained absence had only increased his interest. His desire for her was becoming insistent. All too familiar, but this time complicated by something else, something deeper and unfathomable. Desire he knew, but not this nagging need to take her in his arms, to protect her from harm, to kiss her tenderly awake to the passion he was sure lay dormant within. Caught by her magic, transfixed by her fluid movement up the beach, he had remained in full view long enough for her to see him.

  * * *

  He was still there, an appreciative smile on his face, when she emerged fully dressed from the land side of the bathing machine. She did not speak and made to walk past him with a bare nod of acknowledgement, but he was too quick for her and barred the way.

  ‘Did sea bathing live up to its promise, Miss de Silva?’ he enquired laughingly.

  She turned abruptly and her voice sliced the air. ‘Did ogling female bathers live up to yours, Mr Marchmain?’

  He looked taken aback by her words and the fury in her voice, but in a moment had recovered his poise. ‘One bather did!’

  ‘You are insufferable!’

  ‘Because I appreciate female beauty? That is hardly fair.’

  ‘Because you seem intent on pressing your attentions on unwilling women.’

  ‘As I’ve mentioned before, they are not always unwilling,’ he said drily.

  ‘Let us be clear, sir. Whatever your customary experience, I find your attentions wholly distasteful.’

  ‘And what attentions would they be? All I have done is stand on this small spot of promenade and enjoy the pleasurable sight of women, for once free of the shackles imposed on them.’

  Since she was so much in tune with this sentiment, she found it difficult for the moment to continue the quarrel. But not for long.

  ‘The only reason you told me of the sea bathing was to enable you to spy on me.’

  ‘An over-dramatic interpretation, I think. I am no spy.’ His voice was no longer amused.

  ‘Call it what you will. I have no intention of being ogled by men, and particularly not by a man with your reputation.’

  ‘And what reputation would that be?’ he said dangerously.

  ‘I have no wish to continue this conversation. Please allow me to pass.’

  He made no move, but instead looked her fully in the face grimly.

  ‘You are a delightful girl, Domino, but young and naïve. You know nothing of me or my life, so take care in passing judgement.’

  ‘I am not so naïve that I cannot recognise a rake when I see one.’

  There, she had said the shocking word, and to his face. She waited for the explosion, but none came. Instead he was smiling down at her with a condescending expression on his face.

  ‘A rake, am I?’ he drawled. ‘And all because I dared to see one second of your beautiful body in a bathing costume—and not a particularly revealing one.’

  She flushed scarlet. ‘You have done nothing but distress me since our paths first crossed.’

  ‘A somewhat overwrought statement, wouldn’t you say? I have simply been going about my usual business. It is you who appears so eager to suffer distress.’

  ‘Are you suggesting that I have no cause for complaint?’ she fumed.

  ‘I am suggesting that you may be a little too prone to exaggerate my interest in you. Forgive me, but encouraging such fancies cannot be healthy.’

  She longed to hit him very hard, but by a supreme force of will managed to stay her hand. Instead she took a cold, calm breath and launched the most wounding insult she could think of.

  ‘You claim to be a gentleman. If you are indeed such, then you will leave me alone, now and in the future.’

  She saw him stiffen. It was one thing to fling at him the insult of rake but the insinuation that he was not a gentleman would cause the deepest rancour.

  ‘I regret, Miss de Silva,’ he said in a newly aloof manner, ‘that you have found meeting me so distasteful.’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘Then I will no longer discommode you with my presence. As far as I am able, I will stay out of your sight.’

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘Dare I enquire,’ he asked, his tone now heavy with irony, ‘if you intend to be at the Lewes race meeting tomorrow?’

  ‘I believe my father has reserved places for us.’

  ‘In that case you can be certain that I will spend the day a hundred miles from Lewes.’

  ‘I am delighted to hear it,’ she flung at him and stormed past, her cheeks still flaming and her head held high.

  * * *

  A blind rage had sustained her on the short walk back to Marine Parade, and it was only when she was in sight of the house that she began to question why Joshua Marchmain’s conduct had so infuriated her. His blatant voyeurism was, after all, only what she would have predicted. Why, then, was she so out of temper? Or was it that she had expected better of him? Somehow she must have held a secret hope that the stories about him were exaggerated, that gossip had distorted his true nature. In short, she had wanted to believe he was the kind of man she could trust. How very stupid! He was right, she was naïve. He was and always would be an inveterate rake, for, even though she might acquit him of
deliberately luring her to the bathing station, he had still gazed his fill. An honourable man would have turned away; an honourable man would not even have been there! She wondered wearily how many disappointments she must endure before she finally accepted that she was a very poor judge of men. Once back in Spain, she would trust her aunts to choose a husband. They could do no worse than she.

  Deep in these unpleasant thoughts, she walked through the door of Number Eight to hear her father’s voice raised in protest.

  ‘It is simply a day out, Carmela, a social occasion, nothing more.’

  ‘Naturally I realise that in this society a day at the races is just one more entertainment…’ Carmela shuddered ‘…but you cannot deny that a racecourse is a place of sin.’

  ‘Come, I know that you have—definite views.’ Her father phrased his words carefully. ‘But in this instance, are you not being just a little severe?’

  ‘I think not. Gambling wherever it occurs is sinful.’

  ‘Domino will not be gambling and neither will I. We will enjoy a day in the fresh air and the excitement of seeing horses compete.’

  ‘But you will be surrounded by every kind of vice!’ Fired by moral zeal, her cousin was not giving up easily. ‘We should be doing all we can to protect Domino from the work of the Devil, not exposing an innocent girl to temptation.’

  ‘Enough!’ Alfredo held up his hand. ‘I am taking my daughter on an outing of pleasure whether you approve or not. And I will personally guarantee that she returns as innocent as she went.’

  He strode along the hallway to his office, his shoulders stiff with annoyance, and closed the door rather too noisily. Carmela sniffed just as noisily and hastened back to the purity of her own room. Even after they had both disappeared, the atmosphere crackled with irritation and Domino was left thinking that for all kinds of reasons it might be a good idea to return to Spain sooner than she had hoped.