The Lady and the Rake_A Scandalous Arrangement

by Penelope Redmont

  "Done. In my stables. My head groom will make arrangements for the animal to be taken to Gostwicke Hall… in a month or so, and in slow stages. After good feeding and gentle exercise." He sounded amused.

  "I'll pay you, of course," she assured him.

  He shook his head at her.

  "What?" She asked.

  He stared at her soup plate.

  She'd finished her soup. "I was hungry. Although I do have a good appetite." She grinned. "If we were to marry in truth, you might bear the expense in mind — I'm not a lady who pretends to survive on one piece of bread a day. It's delicious soup, and other than a few mouthfuls, this is my first meal today."

  He smiled too, and looked happier. She realized that he had been concerned about her, and that warmed her. It occurred to her that Linton was much kinder than people expected. It also occurred to her that he didn't behave as a rake might — not that she knew a great deal about that race of beings.

  She didn't address his remark about their marriage until the servants had brought the next courses.

  Linton asked for the courses to be delivered together. They were set out on the long table, and Melly decided that she would do justice to them. "I'll serve you," he said.

  After the servants had left again, she decided to broach the topic. "Marriage? I assume you said that for the benefit of the servants?"

  Linton sighed. "You do see that we need to marry — and marry quickly." He steepled his fingers, with his elbows on the table, and met her gaze. "I trust my servants, but with the best will in the world, there will be talk."

  "Yes — we can't have another scandal. That would be disastrous…" She shuddered. "You've spoken to your grandmother?"

  "Yes. She thinks it best. We won’t marry with unseemly haste… But we'll let everyone know that we'll wait two months, but no longer."

  "Randall," she said gently. "You do realize that our engagement is a pretense, don't you? I can see that it would be wise to set a date, and go on as if we mean to marry in truth, but we will not marry."

  He smiled, his gaze warm. "Our betrothal was never a pretense, Mel."

  "What?"

  "I mean to marry you Mel, and it's best that you grow accustomed to the idea."

  Melly stared at him for a moment, wanting to argue with him, but she was too hungry. She busied herself with a chicken leg. Linton was kind to suggest that they "marry" quickly. She knew however that he would be outraged if he told her so.

  She decided not to pursue the topic of marriage for the moment. She wanted to know how he had found her so quickly. "What happened – why was I abducted?"

  Then something occurred to her. "It was Lady Ashby, wasn't it." As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew that she was right. Somehow, Lady Ashby had organized her abduction.

  That was the reason that Linton had taken this odd attitude — wanting them to marry — as if their betrothal were real. She struggled to understand what he was thinking. It was obvious that he blamed himself for her abduction, and that could only be because Lady Ashby was involved.

  Love

  Linton wondered when had he begun to love this exasperating woman. She refused to understand that their marriage would take place.

  Somehow he had to make her understand that they must marry. Moreover, he had to make her admit that she loved him too. He loved her, and he suspected and hoped that she could begin to reciprocate his feelings. He tried to imagine his life without Mel. He couldn't do it.

  He loved her, and her outrageous family, and she would make a perfect countess. He knew that his grandmother adored Mel, and thought that Mel would fit into the family perfectly. However, grandmother had warned him that Mel was very young, with no experience of life.

  As well, grandmother had pointed out that Mrs. Grove had a great deal of influence over Melly, and that Mrs. Grove didn't approve of him at all.

  Gritting his teeth, he bared his soul. He told Mel all about Lady Ashby and Hexham and their plot. Mel was outraged. She couldn't believe that Hexham had betrayed her.

  Linton remarked drily that Hexham owed a great deal of money. "I can see that he didn't have a choice, according to the way his mind works. Mel, he is not a good man. He wanted a fast and easy way to marry you."

  Her cheeks glowed when she was angry, and he almost smiled. To him, she was beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world.

  "What a beast. How dare he. I'm not an heiress! I shall tell him exactly what I think of him, you can count on that."

  He shook his head at her. He wanted to point it out that it was Mel's decision to confront Pierce that had set these events in train. However he couldn't do so. Mel would see it herself, and then she would proceed to blame herself.

  He felt frustrated at the knowledge that she believed that their marriage wouldn't happen. She seemed to be able to convince herself that their betrothal had always been a pretense, when it had always been anything but that.

  How could he convince her to marry him?

  "It's a pity," she said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "That Lady Ashby and Hexham will go unpunished — they should be punished, but of course they will not be. It would mean the most enormous scandal – and I won't be responsible for bringing another scandal down on the family. Henry and Elaine must both have a season. But it's a pity."

  "I've paid Hexham, and I'll see that he's bundled off to the army again. That's punishment enough. As for Lady Ashby, I've told my solicitor to ensure that she leaves the country. She has relatives in Ireland, and she is to join them. Or she is to go out to one of the colonies. I don't care which, as long as she leaves England. As you say, we can't have them taken up. That would lead to a court case, and while it would be satisfying, there is no doubt that it would be a scandal."

  "There," Mel sat back in her chair, and tossed her napkin onto the table. "Just another one of these delicious little cream cakes, and I'll stop eating. You set a fine table, Randall."

  "Thank you," he said, "I'm pleased that you approve."

  "Will you call around for the carriage? Bessie and I must return to Eardley House."

  "Not yet, we need to discuss our marriage. When you indulge me for half an hour?"

  She shrugged. "Of course, if you wish it."

  "Come." He tossed his napkin onto the table. "You'll be more comfortable in my study."

  An idea had come to him. He would make love to Mel.

  He'd treated her gently, with the result that she looked at him as if he were totally harmless. He knew that she had heard the stories about him, most of which were untrue. But it would do her no harm to realize that she had no idea of what marriage entailed at all, and that might be more exciting than she could have ever imagined.

  He smiled to himself as the servants came in to clear the table, and his butler bowed to Mel.

  Randall

  Her eyelids felt heavy. Melly closed them for a moment, thinking about the delicious meal, and Randall. He sat in a large chair opposite the sofa on which she lay.

  He had insisted that she recline on the sofa, and had covered her with a soft wool blanket. Her shins still ached, and her hands were sore, as was her entire body. Even her chest and belly were bruised, from where the man had thrown her over the front of his saddle. It would be at least a week before she recovered.

  Someone knocked on the door, and Linton went to answer it, but she didn't open her eyes. She heard him coming back.

  "Stay here, and rest," he said softly, touching the top of her head, and tugging gently at one of her curls.

  She smiled, then yawned. "I need to return home, otherwise I fear that I will fall asleep."

  "Go ahead — sleep, I will carry you out to the coach if need be. I will be a few moments… The Runners have returned, with some information for me."

  She heard him leave, and closed her eyes again. She thought about Linton. What if their marriage were real? What would her life be like as the Countess of Linton? She imagined herself as the mi
stress of this house, giving balls and parties.

  She would have great consequence as the countess. Elaine and Henry would have splendid come outs. She frowned. But no, that would never do… Catherine would never allow her to marry a rake. She remembered what Catherine said — when she saw more of Linton, she would develop a disgust of him.

  That had not happened.

  Half asleep, Melly opened her eyes to see Linton kneel beside the sofa and take her hand. His hand felt very warm. He studied the scratches on her fingertips and palm and shook his head. Then he bent his head and kissed her palm. Warmth spread from her hand, and engulfed her body.

  "I'm sorry – it seems I fell asleep." She pulled her hand away, and tossed the blanket aside. "What time is it? I must go home."

  He smiled, green-eyed gaze soft, and making her tremble inwardly. He set his lips on hers softly.

  She sighed, and did what she desperately wanted to do. She lifted her arms and embraced him, opening her mouth and touching his lips with her tongue. Foolish. She knew that she was foolish, but she'd missed Linton, and she wanted more. He felt so warm, so large, and strong. Nothing could harm her as long as she was in his arms.

  He tasted wonderful, of brandy, and himself.

  "Mel, I can't resist you," he murmured, lifting his mouth from hers for a moment. "I think that you will enjoy our marriage. As my wife, you would be mine…"

  His mouth captured hers again, and he plundered her mouth, tasting her and allowing her to feel his hunger and need.

  Melly gasped. His hand was on her breast; her naked breast. Where was her dress… she knew that she should push him away immediately, because he was taking an outrageous liberty. No one had ever touched her in such a way before, cupped her breast, and stroked, inciting heat in her body that glowed from her core.

  She needed to — what? She couldn't remember, because even as she felt her heartbeat increase, languor extended throughout her body. Suddenly she wanted more, much more, and she kissed Linton with passion she hadn't known she possessed. All she was aware of was Linton, and her desire, and she didn't even know what she desired.

  Linton seemed to know. He broke their kiss, but before she could complain, he'd moved her against the back of the sofa, and lay beside her. Her took her arm, and put it around his neck again, then lifted her other hand to his lips. She felt him against the length of her body, and turned, so that she was facing him.

  "Linton," she began, and then forgot what she intended to say, becoming lost in his eyes, which were intensely green in the candlelight.

  "What is it, my sweet?"

  She felt his deep voice in her core, and melted. She melted even more when his mouth moved across her breast, kissing her gently. The feelings were so intense that she gasped.

  What was happening to her? "I don't think…" she managed to say, and couldn't say anything more, because she wasn't thinking at all, as his mouth continued moving on her breast while his warm hand moved slowly down, past her waist and hips.

  Where… what? Melly realized that Linton's hand was now on the inside of her thigh, moving towards her heat, and she couldn't breathe at all.

  Then he stopped. He removed her hand from around his neck, and sat up.

  She blinked at him, her face heating.

  "Come." He stood up, and held out his hand. "Let's take you home." He cleared his throat. "The Runners have captured the men who abducted you. Hexham will be here shortly, to get his money."

  Hexham. "I want to —"

  "No," he said firmly, "you most assuredly will not speak with him. We wish to avoid scandal, you must recall… It's vital that you remember that nothing happened today, at all."

  She felt admonished. He was right, of course. She slid from the sofa, and couldn't meet his gaze as she adjusted the bodice of her gown and shook out her skirt.

  "Mel…" He sighed.

  She didn't want to talk about her odd reaction to him. Nor did she want to remember her dreamy thoughts about becoming the Countess of Linton. "Mother will be home — she will be concerned."

  "No, Catherine sent a note. She says that she told Mrs. Eardley that your mount took fright in the park. You fell, but were not injured. Your mother doesn't know what happened today — but we must get you home."

  Linton turned away from Mel. What had come over him? He ran his hand through his hair and decided that he had lost his mind. He'd been within minutes of making love to Mel, but he couldn't take advantage of her when she was injured.

  "Are you —" His words caught in his throat, and he coughed. "Come, Mel, I'll take you home."

  Mel wouldn't look at him when he helped her and her maid into his carriage, then climbed in after them. Mel tucked herself into the corner, and closed her eyes again.

  Mrs. Grove was waiting for them. She embraced her sister tightly, and whispered that Mrs. Eardley and Anne had retired. "We'll talk tomorrow, I'll come to you before Mother is awake. Go upstairs now. Bessie, look after your mistress."

  He watched Mel as she and her maid went up the stairs.

  "A word, my lord."

  He followed Mrs. Grove into the drawing room, prepared to do battle with her.

  When he told her about Hexham and Lady Ashby, she said nothing. Then she nodded. "Very well… Will there be a scandal?"

  "No. The men who abducted Mel will find themselves in the army. I'm seeing Hexham tonight, he's headed for his regiment, and Lady Ashby will not dare to return to London. Servants may talk, but the ball is on Saturday." He paused. "I mean to marry Mel, but she insists that our betrothal is a pretense."

  She smiled slightly. "She would. Melly can be stubborn — and thank you."

  He raised his eyebrows.

  "I think you do love her, my lord, and while I have reservations, I will help you."

  15. The dress

  Next morning, Bunny was ill with a cold, so Mrs. Eardley was distracted and merely gave Melly a brief lecture on the danger of horses, then turned away to look after her sister.

  "You might consider my feelings, my dear," Mrs. Eardley said, looking back at her daughter from the doorway of Melly's bedroom. "It's all very well for you girls to ride spirited horses, but if you do, you will come a cropper eventually. Yes, nothing is more certain. Let this be a lesson to you… As my father always said, horses have minds of their own. The calmest horse is more likely to kill you than one that's demon bred." Mrs. Eardley nodded and closed Melly's door.

  Melly released a long sigh of relief. She hated lying to her mother.

  "You look as if you've been placed into a sack and beaten with wooden cudgels," Catherine commented half an hour later in Melly's dressing room.

  Catherine and Anne stared at Melly, who was clad in a chemise. They hadn't been able to keep the secret of Melly's abduction from Anne, because Anne's skills with a needle were necessary to rework Melly's ball gown to hide her bruises.

  "Can you do anything about those arms, Anne?" Catherine asked.

  Catherine walked around Melly slowly. "Two problems… The neckline for one — Melly, is that very sore?" She reached out to touch the purple bruise on Melly's upper chest, and Melly winced.

  Anne shook her head. "Catherine," she said hesitantly, "I don't think that Melly should attend the ball."

  "She must. The ball is to announce her betrothal, recollect. All that's required is that you hide her bruises, and if anyone can do it, you can. Fill in the bodice and do something about the arms, too," Catherine said briskly.

  "Very well… Although how Melly will be able to dance, I don't know."

  "Stop making difficulties, do! She doesn't have to dance. She merely needs to put in an appearance," Catherine said. "We've put it about that she had a tumble from a runaway horse, so no one will think it odd if she refuses to dance."

  "I can dance," Melly said quickly. "Of course I can… Not every dance, perhaps."

  Anne gave in. "Two inserts I think — a fichu of lace set into the bodice, perhaps with an edging of seed pearls, rising up th
e neck a little. The sleeves of your robe must have lace too, Melly, over the silk… Otherwise your bruises will be visible to your dancing partners. Those arms… We can't allow anyone to see those arms."

  Catherine nodded. "Thank you — you're cunning with your needle."

  "Yes. I can do it," Anne assured them. "What about you Melly? How do you feel?"

  "Stiff, and sore," Melly admitted, but she had two days to recover. She stared at herself in the glass. The bruises on her arms and legs, and on her chest and stomach, shaded from very dark blue to purple. "I'll go for a walk today, and riding tomorrow. I must keep active."

  Anne threw up her arms in surrender. "Very well then — I see that there's no reasoning with you. Bessie, take Melly's ball gown to my sitting room… Catherine — you and I must go immediately and buy some pretty lace — I think I will make a feature of the lace – could we dye it, perhaps?"

  "What color do you think?" Catherine asked.

  Bessie lifted Melly's gown and robe so that Anne could inspect them. Catherine had told Bessie that her mistress had fallen from her horse, but that Bessie was to keep the extent of Melly's injuries to herself.

  Anne tapped her chin thoughtfully.

  Melly loved the gown. Pale red gossamer silk covered a pink satin petticoat, the silk embroidered with tiny rosebuds. The petticoat was finished with a broad pink ribbon, and the robe's silk matched the pink of the petticoat.

  "Lace dyed a dark rose for the fichu I think… and the under-sleeves of the robe." Anne said. "Unless we decide on another color… green perhaps?"

  The day of the ball arrived. It began with a dinner party at Linton House which the dowager countess hosted for the families.

  Linton took Melly aside into a small drawing-room before dinner was announced.

  "You look wonderful," he said. "You don't need to dance. I've told grandmother that you suffered a fall from your horse, and are a little uncomfortable. She will support you when you refuse partners." He smiled down at her. "I'm quite pleased that you won't be dancing, I don't want anyone else to take you in his arms."