She had felt it the second Edward came in and sat behind her. If she leaned back slightly, she would be able to smell the glorious scent of sandalwood that one could only smell when standing closer than was acceptable. It was her favourite smell in the world.
What would it be like to be his wife so that he had leave to touch her in public, and she him? Would he caress her neck? Play with her hair?
Rebecca wondered if anyone would notice should she start to fan herself. She’d better stop her thoughts in their tracks. They were becoming far too heated.
The gentlemen left the box to procure some refreshments. Rebecca knew that now they would be inundated with visitors to their box.
People often used the interval as an opportunity to call on acquaintances and since they were in the ducal box it stood to reason that there would be a steady stream of well wishers heading their way.
Standing up, Rebecca begged the dowager and Caroline to excuse her while she stretched her legs. She did not really feel like making polite chit chat with boring old peers or young gentlemen who were desperate to court her dowry.
Slipping out before they were invaded, Rebecca made her way down the corridor, nodding politely to familiar faces but not stopping to speak to anyone. She headed in the opposite direction of the foyer in order to avoid the crowds and, to her relief, noted that the amount of people began to dwindle. Glancing up the corridor she wondered if she should return because, really, a single lady should not be alone for long and Caroline was sure to deliver a sermon on the subject if Rebecca did not get back, when she spotted Viscount Hadley’s face. It looked as if he’d just exited the duke’s box and was scanning the crowd.
In a panic, Rebecca whipped round and ducked behind a heavy velvet curtain hanging to her left. To her surprise, she had a straight view to the stage. How odd. Perhaps there was a purpose to the nook, perhaps something to do with the performances. She idly watched the crowed below for a few moments, enjoying the peace and quiet and for a moment, was tempted to stay here for the rest of the performance. But that would not do.
Reluctantly, she judged that it was time to return and turned to leave when she heard a distinctive tearing sound. What on earth? She stepped forward again and noticed that she was stuck. And there was the tear again.
Oh no. She was stuck on something. And her gown was ripped! Frantically she pulled at the material but it would not budge. It was too dark to make out what was catching the dress so she leaned forward, wincing at another audible tear, and moved the curtain slightly to allow some light into the tiny room.
It seemed her dress had gotten itself caught in the bottom of a disused chair and was hooked on a leg that had broken and come away slightly from the rest. The tearing, to her horror, was worse than she thought and her petticoat was almost completely exposed on her right side! The material had bunched on the bottom and every step or movement was tearing it more.
There came the distinctive sound of people beginning to return to their seats for the second half of the performance. Oh dear Lord. Caroline would kill her. Rebecca needed to think. She could not stand here with the curtain halfway parted and her dress hanging off a broken chair!
The only way to free her gown would be to let the curtain drop and try to free herself from the chair blindly. She let go of the heavy material and was immediately pitched back into darkness.
Where would they think she had gone? Would someone come to look for her? She prayed with all her might that if someone did come, it would be Caroline.
Rebecca had talked herself out of a lot of scrapes in the past but Mr. Crawdon or Edward seeing her undergarments? Even she could not think of a way out of the scandal of that one!
She began to feel her way down the dress, wincing as she fingered the massive tear. Madame would be distraught! If she found out, she’d probably force Rebecca to return all her creations and have her horsewhipped.
The material had bunched really, very tightly at the bottom of the tear. She tried to manipulate it in order to lift it off the leg but it was really wedged in. What to do?
Rebecca thought for a moment before deciding that there was nothing else for it. She had to get free. Nobody knew where she was! She would have to pull with all her might and hope that the dress gave way. As for returning to the public eye with half her dress torn and her petticoat on display? Well, she’d worry about that when the time came.
****
The dowager and Caroline did their best to look unfazed while they held a whispered, frantic conversation with Edward and Mr. Crawdon about the whereabouts of the little hoyden. Only Rebecca could get herself lost in a building with two exits.
Edward dampened the panic that reared up when he realised she wasn’t returning. It was highly unlikely that George Simons would have gotten to her here. For one thing, his mode of dress would have stood out immediately. For another, Rebecca was unlikely to calmly go anywhere with him or even speak to him when there were so many people around from whom she could get assistance.
Caroline made to rise from her seat. “I should go and find her.”
Edward, however, placed a hand gently on her shoulder and said, “You remain here with Mother, Lady Caroline. Tom, please look after the ladies. I will find Rebecca.
Caroline looked uncertain but the dowager patted her hand and reassured her that Edward would find her and return her to them.
“Quickly,” she finished with a glint in her eye.
Edward rolled his eyes and exited the box. Really, what did his mother think he was going to do? Seduce Rebecca in the middle of the corridor? The thought had appeal, he’d admit. But if he were to marry her he would treat her — wait! Marry her? He still hadn’t decided, had he?
She was still unsuitable. That had not changed. Or had it?
To be fair, Rebecca had hardly been scandalous at all since their arrival in London. Granted she was now missing, alone, in the middle of an opera performance. And she had poured a drink over Sir Roger’s head. Oh, and there had been the little set to with Lady Sarah in the park, though Rebecca had behaved like the perfect lady. Even if she’d looked like she wanted to gouge the other lady’s eyes out!
But those things were not so bad.
Of course, he could not forget their ride in Hyde Park the other day when he’d beaten her in a race and she’d issued a string of expletives, oblivious to the fact that her hair had come lose, her hat had flown off and they had an audience. He hadn’t been oblivious. Though he had been ridiculously distracted by her since he’d gone to pick her up that morning.
Her habit had been red for God’s sake. Red. The colour of sin. And the cut of it did nothing to diminish her curves. If anything the masculine, military style just highlighted them all the more. And it was red! Edward had wanted to weep.
But he had noted these things. He’d also noted the ‘incident’ where she’d dived in front of a carriage on Regents Street because a kitten had been standing in the road.
She had saved the kitten and completely charmed the driver of the carriage and the gentleman inside, unsurprisingly, but Edward had nearly lost his life. When he’d yelled at her, he could admit now that he’d yelled though he’d refused to at the time, she’d hotly defended herself by claiming that anyone would have done the same.
Edward had asked what she planned to do with the scrawny stray now that she’d almost caused a collision to save it. Suffice to say, his mother was now the proud owner of a cat.
All these things aside though, there was no denying Rebecca was a well brought up lady. She was kind, caring, funny and spirited. And more beautiful than was good for his common sense. And, quite simply, he loved her to distraction.
Perhaps she wasn’t duchess material but did it matter? She was all he could ever want in a partner. And he was starting to suspect that she was exactly what he needed to save him from a life that was ‘sensible and practical’.
He thought of presenting her to the stiff and staid members of his family and the peerag
e and could not supress a grin. He would pay money to see it!
His mind raced with thoughts while his heart fought desperately to get him to admit what he had subconsciously known for quite some time now; Rebecca was his destiny. He loved her. Loved her more than he ever thought possible. He loved her wholly and completely. And he would never be satisfied unless he had her by his side, every day, for the rest of his life. He resolved there and then to make her his own. To hell with propriety and what was expected of him. Rebecca was made for him and Edward would make her his wife.
Besides, she may not be exactly conventional but really, she had never done anything too sensational and—
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Lady Rebecca. Falling. Backwards. Through a curtain. Straight onto her backside. And yelling curses as she went.
—And maybe he’d spoken too soon.
It seemed that the lady had decided to stay on the floor, lying flat, gazing up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. Was that her petticoat?
“Good evening, my lady.” He approached slowly, wondering what on earth had happened.
Rebecca started at his voice and turned her head to watch him approach.
“Oh no,” she groaned and threw her arm over her eyes. “Go away.”
He hunkered down beside her and pried her arm gently from her face.
“I am afraid I cannot do that, darling.”
“Oh you can. It is really very simple. You just turn around and walk back the way you came.”
“Are you going to get up off the floor?”
She contemplated his question for a moment before heaving a sigh of resignation.
“I suppose I must.”
Edward smiled gently at her.
“Shall I assist you?”
“No that is quite alright. Although…” Here her face flushed and Edward was intrigued.
“My dress, it appears to have a, uh, a slight tear.”
Edward’s eyes raked her body. Her dress was torn completely open on one side, thankfully though, not past the bodice. He did not think he’d survive that. It was hard enough keeping his head together seeing her petticoat and the outline of her legs underneath it.
“Sweetheart, I can see your petticoat.”
“Yes, I would imagine that you can.”
“I think perhaps lying on the floor is not the best idea, given that it highlights the — what was it? — slight tear in your gown.”
She huffed again then sat up. Edward reached out a hand and Rebecca clasped it as he hauled her to her feet.
“Are you hurt?” he asked gently.
“Not at all. Apart from my pride,” she smiled ruefully and he could not have loved her more than he did in that moment. Had it been any other female she’d have been crying her eyes out now and scaring the wits out of him.
“So what are we to do about this ‘little tear’?”
“I must leave immediately,” she said, “before anyone sees it! I will be quite ruined and then murdered, I am sure, by Caroline.”
“I can imagine,” Edward agreed gravely. There was a moment’s pause before he spoke again.
“You stay here. I will make our excuses and then escort you home. Tom will stay, I am sure, to escort the other ladies.”
He made to leave and Rebecca reached out and grabbed his arm.
“No! Edward, no. You cannot, we cannot travel alone together. What will people think?”
Edward’s eyes swept down her gaping dress, her dishevelled hair. “Are you quite sure you want anyone else to see you like this?”
Rebecca looked down at herself and grimaced.
“Caroline will come with me.”
“Fine. I will tell your sister too. But I am not leaving two ladies to travel alone any more than I will leave one lady to travel alone so I shall escort you nonetheless.”
Rebecca smiled. Always the gentleman.
“Very well. Thank you.”
“Of course,” he continued with a sigh, “my mother will not stay with just Tom for company and she’d been so looking forward to the performance. One of her favourites, you understand. But she will not mind having to leave because you are afraid to be alone with me.”
“I am not afraid” Rebecca argued, “and I see what you are trying to do. Your mother will have plenty more opportunities to come to the Opera.”
“Of course she will. I will just go and tell her she must leave then. I shall return directly.”
He turned to go and could not supress his smile at yet another huff behind him before—
“Wait. Do not make her leave. I am certainly not afraid to travel alone with you. Do please give my apologies and tell the dowager and my sister I shall see them at home.”
Edward turned back and bowed then swept off to do as instructed. Damn the man. He knew exactly what he was doing. Blackmailing her! And forcing her to lie. She had said that she was not afraid to be alone with him. Nothing could be further from the truth; for she was terrified he would see how much she loved him. And even more terrified that she would not be able to resist him in the close confines of a darkened carriage.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Edward tried not to feel smug about how he’d gotten his way and was now sitting across from Rebecca in his carriage on the way back to Mayfair.
Of course, he’d used underhanded tactics. But that was allowed when you were in love. However, now that he was alone with her, he felt stupidly nervous and did not know quite what to say.
It did not help matters that her petticoat was still on display. And as hard as she tried to cover it up, his eyes could not un-see what they’d seen and his body certainly could not forget it.
“Now are you going to tell me what happened?” He broke the tension with the question he’d been dying to ask. Never had he known someone who managed to get herself into such ridiculous situations at such regular intervals.
There hadn’t been time to question her in the theatre. He’d bent down and whispered to his mother and Caroline that Rebecca was fine but had had a little incident and needed to be returned home. The fact that neither questioned him further was testament to how unsurprising this news was.
After asking Tom to ensure the ladies got home safely, he plucked up Rebecca’s cloak and was out of the box within minutes.
His heart had clenched when he came back down the corridor and spotted her, alone and forlorn. With her hair a mess and her dress torn, she looked miserable and utterly endearing.
Without a word, he threw her cloak over her and fastened it at the neck. Then, because he could not help it, he raised her chin and planted a swift, tender kiss on her lips. Her eyes widened fractionally but she smiled brilliantly at him and Edward thought if he hadn’t already tumbled into love with her he certainly would have in that moment.
Still silent, he turned her and led her down the stairs and onto the street where his carriage awaited. And now, here they were and he was more than a little curious as to how they ended up this way.
“I think it probably looked worse than it was, you know,” Rebecca started. Edward said nothing and waited for her to continue.
“I knew that people would be visiting during the interval and I did not feel like making polite chit chat so I left to stretch my legs. Only that blasted Viscount Hadley was sniffing me out so I ducked behind that curtain and got stuck in a chair.”
“I am sorry. Did you say ‘stuck in a chair’?”
“Yes, well my dress caught in it and when I went to leave it tore even worse. I had to keep pulling at it, it was quite stuck you understand, and eventually, it gave.”
“This would be the point where you came tumbling through the curtain, swearing like a sea captain, yes?”
“I did not swear like a sea captain,” she sniffed, “I am a lady.”
He burst into laughter and she looked mightily offended. But before she could speak a word or give way to that temper of hers, he leaned over and swept her onto his lap.
Re
becca gasped in shock.
“Edward! What are you doing? You cannot –”
“I can and I am,” was all he answered before his lips claimed hers.
He told himself to hold back. That they had not even spoken of a future together. That he had not told her how she owned his heart completely and utterly.
But as soon as their lips met the fire he’d been trying too hard to keep in check burst into the brightest of flames. Rebecca groaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
Her tongue reached out to dance with his and he thought he would explode right there and then.
Rebecca could not stop the moan that escaped her as Edward’s mouth crushed hers in a passionate kiss that left her mind blank and her body screaming. She was shocked by the visceral need that rose up inside her. She wanted him. In the most intimate way possible.
The fact that she loved him so only added fuel to the fire of her yearning. He kept her anchored to him with one strong hand while the other slipped beneath her cloak and began a slow, torturous exploration of her body.
He broke away from her mouth to rain kisses along her jaw, down her neck and to nibble wickedly on her ear. Rebecca felt like she would expire. Instinctively, she pressed closer to him and was rewarded by a desperate groan. She felt hot and flustered and more than a little excited by the evidence of his desire for her.
When did I become such a wanton, she wondered desperately. She felt a swift moment of disappointment when Edward’s hand left her body, only to be shocked all over again when he moved her to lie on the plush velvet cushion of the carriage seat and then stretch out above her.
He held himself away from her on his elbows before once again lowering his head to claim her mouth. Her thoughts scrambled wildly as she reached up and pulled at the lapels of his jacket. She wanted to feel his weight on he, wanted to run her hands over his broad shoulders, his muscled back and lower still. She wanted to explore every wonderful inch of him.
By this time, Edward’s hands had found the tear in her dress. While he once again administered kisses along her neck, his hand was stroking her thigh over the flimsy petticoat and the heat of his skin scorched her. When had he removed his gloves? He was driving her slowly mad and Rebecca felt a desperate need for more.
An Unlikely Duchess Page 22
