Where Have All the Scoundrels Gone?

by Donna Cummings

  "We are inordinately fond of her, too, but please do not tell her so. It would spoil her enjoyment, as well as ours, if all of this fondness is revealed."

  Miss Lockhart started laughing again. "You are quite incorrigible, Mr. Hayward."

  "I cannot disagree. And I do wish you would call me Richard."

  "You will persist in the request if I deny you."

  He nodded, unable to keep from smiling. "See how much you have learned about me in this small space of time?"

  "I have indeed, Richard. And please call me Constance."

  "Such a perfect name. Constance. It fits you completely."

  "You are not only incorrigible, you are quite fanciful."

  "One of us must be. You shall be constant, and true, while I shall take on the role of flighty frippery, chasing after non-existent fairy sprites."

  Her expression became wistful, and all at once he knew she was missing things she would not permit herself to enjoy. She would not likely ask for them. Her surname was apropos, too, for she had locked her heart away, willingly or not. It was up to him to provide her with the silly joys she had yet to experience, and right then there was nothing he wanted more.

  Richard stopped their stroll and drew her close. She gazed up at him with unabashed curiosity, but not fear or concern. His battle was half won. He lifted her hand to his lips for a brief kiss.

  "Would you assist me in finding the fairy sprites, this very evening?"

  He saw her start to instantly dismiss the notion, but then her lips closed before the words could escape.

  "I would need you there to reassure the creatures that I mean them no harm," he continued. "I merely wish to enjoy their company. I do not mean to capture them, or cause them dismay of any sort."

  His words were meant to assure her of his intentions towards her, of course. He waited while she studied him for several moments, trying to decide if he was worthy of her trust. He began to withdraw the request, but she halted him.

  "I would be honored to assist you," she answered quickly. "After all, you provided such able assistance to me with Thomas. The least I can do is return the favor."

  He grinned. "Of course. Now let us plan this excursion. It should be an excellent night for hunting fairy sprites."

  Chapter 13

  Constance chided herself once more. Her wits had gone lacking. Why else would she be waiting for Richard to appear on her doorstep for a moonlit lark? Searching for fairy sprites, no less. It was merely a ruse for him to have her alone in the dark. She should have declined immediately. Any sensible woman would have done so.

  But his enthusiasm was hard to resist. She had closed herself off to much of the world's enjoyments the past few years. She had never really missed it, until now.

  If she were not careful, Richard would ensure she would miss a great deal more once he had returned to his previous life. Still, she could not contain her excitement at embarking on something that was pure folly. It made her feel hopeful, and carefree, and even youthful again. How could she hope to resist such feelings?

  In the next instant, Richard was standing in front of her, holding a lantern aloft. "Are you ready for an adventure?"

  His high spirits were unmistakable, and completely irresistible. Still, she could not help but tease him. "I believe you told Thomas that trouble was often disguised as a grand adventure."

  "Indeed, it often is. But that is no reason to avoid it. We merely prepare for it. Come." He held his hand out and she clasped it. "Let us see where these fairies might be hiding."

  They strolled down the country lane in a companionable silence. Constance was grateful for the moon shining so brightly, illuminating their path. It might have been impossible to see their way otherwise.

  Every once in a while, Richard would stop and hold the lantern up while he gazed around. He would then shake his head and insist they were not in the correct spot.

  "How are you so sure you know where they hide, if you were unable to find them previously?"

  "I availed myself of some research today," he said with a laugh.

  Several moments later, he halted and then nodded, muttering, "Yes, this is it." She began to step forward, but he stopped her. "The fairy sprites are a shy sort. They would prefer you cover your eyes before they make themselves known."

  She gave him a baleful expression. "When did they inform you of all this?"

  His laughter warmed her, even though she told herself to resist its effects. "I told you. I availed myself of the necessary research."

  "Fine." She covered her eyes with both hands, which required Richard to hold her arm to lead her forward. When she momentarily lost her footing, his arm shot out and gathered her close, ensuring she was safe. Her heart sped up, but not out of fear. She trusted him to look after her, and keep her unharmed.

  "It is just a bit farther," he said in a low voice, close to her ear. She shivered, despite the warmth of the evening. He seemed to always have that effect on her senses. Being unable to see him heightened the sensuality of it all.

  Before she could succumb to the madness he aroused in her so easily, he stopped them and said, "Here. You can look now."

  Constance let her hands drop slowly. Her breath caught, and she feared she might never breathe again. They were in the midst of a small clearing, and there were lanterns hanging from the trees, and tucked in amongst the greenery near the ground. When the wind lightly brushed the leaves aside, it made it seem as though the lights were twinkling. Even the moonlight played a part, illuminating the intimate spot in a magical fashion.

  It was the perfect depiction of a fairy wonderland.

  "You did this," she said.

  Richard shrugged, as if he could not believe his eyes. "I am as astounded as you are."

  "You did this," she repeated. "For me."

  Her voice broke on the last words. He dropped his comic pose and gently pulled her into his arms.

  "It was meant to bring you joy, not dismay."

  "It does," she said in a choked voice. "More than you can know."

  She felt his lips pressed against her temple, and then her eyelids. She tried to explain how happy she was at the fanciful surprise he had given her, but his mouth was on hers, tenderly, as if to provide comfort.

  She clung to him tightly, wrapping herself around him so he could not disappear in the darkness. He felt almost as much of an illusion as the fairy garden he had created. Yet her fear soon turned to caution. She knew how unwise it was to cling to this mercurial man, a man who was most likely entertaining himself before he set off on his next adventure. Alone.

  Just like another man to whom she had given her heart.

  She stepped back, smiling, and then brushed her clothing into place. He smiled, too, as if aware she was battling herself but he would not protest.

  "Come," he said, his hand outstretched. "Let us see if the fairy sprites left behind any treats or surprises."

  She placed her hand in his, comforted when she knew she should not be. "I count you as a surprise."

  His eyebrows lifted. "In what way?"

  "In every way. I will now be forced to confess I should never have condemned you as a useless frippery."

  "Except I excel at it." He walked her to a spot he had obviously arranged previously, where there were blankets draped over tree stumps and across the ground. "If you sit here, I shall see if there are any refreshments for us."

  "I am agog with wondering what the fairy sprites might have left behind."

  He grinned as he dragged his hand through some bushes near the ground. In the next moment he extracted a bottle of wine, holding it aloft triumphantly. "Fortunately they were unable to carry off the good stuff."

  "Understandably, since it is at least twice their size." She took the bottle from him. "Were they also unable to drag the glasses away?"

  "I would not suspect they use glasses," he teased. "Wouldn't fairy sprites merely fly inside the bottle, take a few gulps, and then return through the opening?"
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br />   His good humor was impossible to resist. "I shall soon find out." She popped the cork out of the bottle and then held it up to her eye. "No fairies that I can see. Which is probably a good thing."

  "We are blessed with good fortune, for they did indeed leave behind drinking vessels. And, even better..." More thrashing noises ensued as he bent over the surrounding greenery and explored it. "Just as I had hoped. They were in the midst of a delectable meal, and now we shall be able to enjoy it in their stead."

  Constance felt her heart expand at the mischievous joy on Richard's face. He set a large hamper on the ground between them, and began taking inventory of the contents. How could she not feel delight while watching him? He had done all of this for her.

  "Why?" she asked. "Why was all of this done?"

  He glanced up, clearly ready to toss out something about the fairy sprites, but the seriousness of her tone must have changed his mind. He sat back on his heels. "I wanted to bring some smiles to your face."

  "You have done that already. With a great deal less effort than this."

  "And your smiles have once again turned into a suspicious frown." He held up a hand to stave off her protest. "Next you will accuse me of attempting to woo you."

  "Are you not?"

  His lips lifted in another teasing grin, something she was finding much too irresistible. "It depends. Would my wooing meet with your approval?"

  Constance's heart thudded rather painfully. She did not want to allow any hopefulness in her life, not when she had finally become accustomed to existing without it, and especially not from this man, who would easily obliterate what was left of her heart.

  Yet in the shortest time, he had made her realize how much more interesting her life could be. She enjoyed her daily routine, helping the villagers, coaxing her pitiful rose bush into blooming. But she wanted to expand beyond that, and this tempting man might be the place to start. She would merely have to remember to stay on guard against falling too much, to prevent repeating the mistakes that had brought her to this guardedness in the first place.

  She took a deep breath and then smiled. "I am agog to see what your wooing entails."

  It seemed there was nothing she could have said to make him happier. He lifted the bottle out of her grip and set it aside, so that he could take her hands in his. He brushed his lips across her knuckles. "Now I am all aflutter with worry that I shall not meet your expectations."

  "You are the most incorrigible man I have ever met."

  "Good. I wish to remain so." He tossed her a wink and then added, "Let us partake of this fairy sprite meal."

  "I agree. Wooing requires fortitude, so you must restore yourself."

  His laugh warmed her in many ways, and in places she had kept locked away for so long, she had wrongfully assumed they were as nonexistent as fairy sprites.

  "You need have no worries about my fortitude." He handed her a pair of glasses he had extracted from the hamper, and then grabbed the wine again, filling both glasses. "But what of yours?"

  His gaze was filled with curiosity, not condemnation. He was giving her a chance to retreat, if she chose, and it made her heart soften at the realization that he was signaling he was aware of her reticence, even if he did not know the reasons for it.

  She took a gulp of wine, to fortify her nerves. "I have not been wooed for several years, and in truth, did not expect to be wooed again." She hesitated, debating whether to reveal her reasons. Perhaps he did not need to know. Why should she reveal her heartbreak to a man who was likely going to add to it?

  "I want to assure you I have no evil motives," he said quietly. "Unfortunately that is precisely what a fiendish seducer would say, is it not?"

  She laughed. "It would seem so, based on some of the novels I have read."

  "Well, then perhaps I can confess that it has been a while since I have wooed anyone—"

  "You cannot expect me to believe that!"

  He held up a hand. "I should have expected your incredulous response. After all, I have developed a reputation as a ladies' man, and it has served me well."

  She could not help but snort. "I imagine so."

  "As part of my work," he protested. "It is a gift, being able to elicit information from those whose secrets would benefit the Crown. Yet it may prove a curse to me now, when I do not want to benefit from secrets. I merely want to know more about someone who has piqued my interest in a way I have not experienced for a very long time."

  "What about me piques your interest? My initial disdain?"

  He laughed. "Of course! It was quite irresistible. But there was something else I could not retreat from—the sense that you, too, have experienced loss."

  His words startled her. "How could you know that?"

  "We all find our ways to cope with heartbreak. You hold everyone at bay. I engage them as a useless frippery, to keep people from uncovering my true nature."

  It took several moments for her heart to regain its normal rhythm. She had indeed misjudged this man. His perceptive nature took her by surprise, but the fact that he was so attuned to her reasons and motives...

  "You might be more dangerous than a fiendish seducer."

  "Now you shall have your guard up once more. I may never learn your secrets."

  She took a long sip of wine. "I could tell you everything, right this instant, if you like."

  "You are mocking me. You know it would demolish my enjoyment if you were to do that." He tapped his glass lightly against hers. "But to make it easier for you, I shall reveal something of myself first."

  "Once more I am breathless with anticipation."

  He clucked his tongue. "I should have guessed you would take every opportunity to bedevil me. I probably should not confess how much I enjoy it—"

  "If that is what you meant to reveal, I had discovered that quite some time ago. Perhaps I should guess something about you, and you can tell me if it is correct."

  He tipped his glass back and finished its contents. "This should prove amusing."

  "It is similar to how I determine what ails a patient," she replied, tilting her head as she considered him. He was impossibly handsome, his dark hair framing features that invited a woman to look her fill. And those eyes... Constance was bound to suffer some sort of heart ailment if he continued to gaze at her with such unabashed interest.

  "You already know what ails me," he teased, "so you cannot use that as your first guess."

  She laughed. "I have no idea what ails you, except for being impervious to refusal."

  That made his eyes twinkle. "Now you have made me sound like some sort of reprobate. I cannot believe that was your intention."

  "Indeed it was not. You have many years before you attain reprobate status."

  "You are unable to discern anything about me," he said triumphantly. "You are stalling, hoping I am unable to notice."

  "There is no need to declare victory just yet." She took another sip of wine, taking the opportunity to peruse him once more, allowing him to believe she was looking for clues. In truth, she was merely enjoying the camaraderie between them, with the hint of something else underlying it. How could she hope to resist something so tantalizing? It was even more powerful than when she had succumbed previously...

  She gulped the rest of her wine.

  He moved closer, until he was sitting next to her, his body brushing slightly against hers. "I hope you do not mind. I could not hear you over all the fairy sprite giggling and gossiping over there." He threw a frustrated glance over his shoulder. "I feared I might not be able to hear your guess about my character. Or lack of it."

  She could not help herself. She tipped her head back and laughed, so thoroughly enjoying this man and his utter silliness, all of it for her benefit. "I have not laughed like this for such a long time."

  "I had guessed as much," he said. "I hope I can provide you with much laughter in the days to come."

  His expression was serious, not teasing, causing her stomach a great deal of tu
mult. She knew it was not wise to read too much into his words, but they were a sorely needed balm, and she held them close to her heart.

  She leaned closer to him and then kissed him with a tenderness that could not be mistaken. "What can I provide you?"

  "Your company. Your kisses. More of your delightful laughter."

  "You are easily pleased then."

  "Is that what you have deduced about me?" He shook his head mournfully. "You have guessed quite wrongly then."

  She smiled at his mock woe. "Then you are impossible to please? That is just as devastating."

  His lips found hers again, and for several long moments there was no need for words. His mouth skillfully told her just how much he wanted her, and hers replied with all of the pent-up need inside of her. He trailed his fingers down her neck, causing a riot of shivers, even more so when his kiss became more insistent.

  She told herself to retreat, but then bargained with herself, certain there was no harm in reveling in the sensations a short while longer. His passion was rising, as was hers, but he seemed to know how to calm her fears, halting momentarily to rain kisses over her eyelids and murmur reassurances in her ear. They were not the actions of a seducer, though he was very easily seducing her with his promises of even more passion, if she found herself brave enough.

  She pressed against his chest. He bit back a groan, but complied with her silent request. She needed a moment to catch her breath, to rein in her own excitement before it convinced her this fairyland could forever protect her from the real world waiting outside.

  "What have you determined about me then, Miss Lockhart?"

  His words were a teasing reflection of their earlier banter. Yet his mien was serious. Her answer clearly mattered to him a great deal.

  "I have learned you are an intriguing blend of fanciful and stalwart. Someone who is both generous and kind yet unwilling to let anyone believe him capable of such qualities."

  A man who could easily steal her heart, if she permitted it.

  "From the outset, I had pegged you as a discerning woman," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Though I feared I might have misjudged you when you were completely disdainful of my initial approach."