To Kiss a Rake (Scandalous Kisses)

by Monajem, Barbara

  “She told you that?” Melinda demanded, appalled.

  “No, she said it to my nurse.” Her eyes widened, and a guilty expression crossed her face.

  “And you overheard her?” Melinda asked.

  Rebecca hung her head. “I’m sorry. It is rude to eavesdrop.” Her gaze drifted longingly to the rock cakes.

  “Mrs. Timms shouldn’t have said that about you, because it’s complete nonsense,” Melinda retorted, stuffing down her fury. “You may eat the rock cakes, and don’t worry if you get crumbs on the sofa. I’ll get some ointment for your bum.”

  She went to her bedchamber to get a clean, wet cloth, a towel, and some comfrey ointment. By the time she returned, the rock cakes were gone, and not a single crumb remained on the sofa. Evidently the girl feared punishment for the slightest error. Melinda cleaned the blood off the little girl’s bottom, dabbed it dry, and applied the ointment. Rebecca winced a few times, but suffered it all bravely.

  “Where is your mama? I must speak to her,” Melinda asked at last.

  “I don’t have a mama,” Rebecca said. “My mama is dead.”

  “Very well, your papa, then.”

  “My papa’s in . . . in India. I only have a guardian.”

  Yes, Melinda remembered—the governess had spoken of a guardian.

  Rebecca began to sob. “He’s going to send me away with Miss Jenks to live with some people who will whip me into shape, and I’ll never see Mrs. Rawley again.”

  Melinda’s stomach roiled. “Who is Mrs. Rawley?”

  “My nurse,” Rebecca said. “She went to Islington because her daughter had a baby. Miss Jenks says Mrs. Rawley is too busy to take care of me now.”

  Melinda wanted to comfort the little girl but couldn’t bring herself to give false assurances. “Why did you climb out onto the ivy, sweetheart?”

  Rebecca said, “I was going to―” Her confiding expression vanished, replaced by a sullen glare.

  “Run away?” Melinda finished for her.

  “To Mrs. Rawley,” Rebecca confessed. “I would ride to Islington on one of the farmers’ carts.”

  “Would you, then? I don’t blame you for running away, Rebecca, really I don’t. I ran away from my grandmother several times, because she birched me and sent me to bed without supper, too. But you could have fallen and been badly hurt. There must be a better solution to your problems. Let me ask Lord Garrison to speak to your guardian, and―”

  “No! Don’t!” The little girl scrambled off the sofa, tears coursing down her cheeks. “Miss Jenks says Lord Garrison wants the devil beaten out of me. He’ll tell Miss Jenks to birch me again.”

  “Lord Garrison said that?” Melinda gasped. She didn’t believe it, but something about this rang true, and realization dawned. “Lord Garrison is your guardian?”

  Rebecca nodded, and all at once Melinda knew—both why she’d thought Rebecca reminded her of someone, and why Grandma had gone away cackling in the bookshop.

  Miles returned from Kensington in a worse mood than when he’d left. He’d given in to Wilson’s pleas and visited one of the couples the man recommended. He’d had to control his disgust; he hadn’t the slightest intention of giving his daughter to a pair of toad-eating mushrooms.

  He stalked into the house and had a foot on the bottom stair when a strident cry from the servants’ quarters stopped him short.

  “His lordship will never forgive me!” That sounded like Miss Jenks.

  “However did you manage to lose her?” asked Mrs. Timms.

  “I don’t know!” Miss Jenks moaned. “I punished her and sent her to bed to think about her sinful behavior. When I returned later to wake her, she was gone.”

  What the devil? Miles heartbeat quickened. He hastened toward the rear of the house.

  “You’ve searched everywhere?” asked Mrs. Timms.

  “From attics to cellars, all the servants and I. The garden, too. She is nowhere to be found.”

  Miles marched into the kitchen. “What in God’s name is going on? Where is Rebecca?”

  “I’m terribly sorry, my lord, but she is gone,” Miss Jenks said. “We can’t find her anywhere.”

  “That’s absurd. Where could she have gone? And why?”

  “Oh, my lord,” Miss Jenks said, “I fear she has run away from home.”

  “Why would she do such a foolish thing?” Mrs. Timms demanded.

  “This morning, when I punished her for stealing food and then lying about it, she said she would run away. I have never been burdened with such a stubborn, disobedient, thoroughly evil child.” She caught Miles’s eye and blenched. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but―”

  Miles ignored her. “Mrs. Timms, pray have the entire house next door searched again, and send the footmen out to see if anyone has seen Rebecca in the street.”

  A housemaid scurried into the kitchen and curtsied. “Beg pardon, my lord, but her ladyship requests your presence in her bedchamber on an urgent matter.”

  What could possibly be more urgent than the disappearance of his child? A child Melinda should know nothing about, but now he would have no choice but to tell her—unless it transpired that the girl was hiding under a bed and no one had noticed. “Inform her ladyship that I shall be up as soon as I can.”

  The housemaid hurried away.

  “As for you, Miss Jenks―”

  “It’s not my fault,” she cried. “I have done my best to eradicate her undesirable traits, but nothing can be done. She was conceived in evil and born in sin.”

  What in God’s name? The woman was mad. “Miss Jenks, I―” Miles began.

  “My lord.”

  Miles turned at the sound of Melinda’s voice. She stood framed in the kitchen doorway, pale as chalk, her mouth tight, her eyes ablaze. “My lord, I must speak to you immediately.”

  “Very well,” Miles said.

  Melinda must have overheard something, or perhaps someone had told her about Rebecca’s existence—although he’d thought that few people knew. He would deal with her quickly and then join in the search. “I shall speak to you later, Miss Jenks. Mrs. Timms, you have my orders.”

  Melinda turned and marched up the stairs. He followed, wondering how to put it. If only Mrs. Rawley had been here, if only he’d found some acceptable foster parents, if only he’d had more time . . .

  On the second landing, Melinda stopped, barring his way. “Rebecca is in my bedchamber, my lord. She is weak from hunger and in pain from a vicious birching.”

  “She’s here?” He glanced past his wife, but the bedroom door was shut, and Melinda didn’t move. “How did she get here?”

  “She climbed off the balcony next door onto the ivy but didn’t know how to climb down it. Fortunately, I heard her crying for help and rescued her.”

  Miles stared, aghast. “She could have fallen to her death.”

  Melinda nodded.

  “Thank you for saving her life,” Miles said, “but why the devil didn’t you say something? They’ve been looking for her everywhere. Surely you must have heard people calling for her in the garden.”

  “I did indeed hear them, my lord,” Melinda said, “but she was terrified of being found, and rightly so. After seeing the condition she was in, I could not bring myself to return her to that dreadful woman’s care—or rather, complete lack of it.”

  Miles reddened. “Yes, Miss Jenks seems to have some absurd notions, but nevertheless―”

  “Rebecca is little more than a baby, my lord,” Melinda said. “One does not birch a young child, or deprive her of food or―or call her a spawn of the devil!”

  Appalled, he couldn’t get a word out.

  “Did you or did you not tell Miss Jenks to beat the devil out of Rebecca?” Melinda asked.

  “G
ood God, no!” he cried. “Of course not. Miss Jenks must be a lunatic to suggest such a thing.”

  “It is not only Miss Jenks, my lord. Rebecca told me that Mrs. Timms calls her a child of sin, although not to her face.”

  He cursed under his breath.

  “My lord, Rebecca tells me you are her guardian.” Melinda must be furious at him to continue milording him even when no servants were about—and if she believed him capable of such cruelty, he didn’t blame her.

  “Yes,” he said heavily, wondering how he could ensure a happy future for Rebecca when he couldn’t even hire a decent governess. “I shall ask her nurse, Mrs. Rawley, to return for the present, but in any event, Rebecca will not be living next door much longer.”

  “What do you mean? Why shouldn’t she live next door?”

  “Oh, hell,” Miles muttered. “I thought you understood.”

  Melinda put her nose in the air. “I understand that she is your illegitimate daughter, my lord.”

  He nodded bleakly.

  “I assume her existence is related to the past you are so very reluctant to explain to me.” His lovely new wife was the personification of dignity.

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “I fail to see why you didn’t tell me about her. Did you think I would have hysterics? I’m not such a fool, my lord. Instead of informing me like one civilized being to another, you made an entirely unnecessary secret out of something quite commonplace and left me to sort it out for myself, with the help of an unpleasant hint from my grandmother.”

  “I meant to tell you,” Miles said, “once I had her safely fostered out.”

  Melinda’s already pale face drained to stark white.

  “Oh, no,” Melinda whispered, clutching the baluster; she had to get a hold of herself and convince him to keep Rebecca here. She couldn’t let Rebecca suffer as she had done. Meanwhile, Mrs. Timms’ voice wafted up, giving orders.

  Miles had been frowning at her, but now he put up a hand. “Mrs. Timms! Call off the search. Rebecca is with Lady Garrison.”

  Mrs. Timms clucked from below. “That naughty girl. I’ll take her back home, my lord.”

  “No!” Melinda clutched Miles’s arm. “You mustn’t send her to be punished again.”

  “What sort of ogre do you think I am?” Miles snapped, moving as if to shake off her arm and then stilling himself—the picture of controlled fury.

  “I don’t think you’re an ogre,” Melinda said. “I could never think that. I thought you didn’t know what was going on next door.”

  “We cannot discuss this matter on the landing.” With extreme gentleness, he removed his arm from her grasp.

  “Very well, but please, no talk of sin or bad ends, either,” Melinda said.

  He turned without answering and went partway down the stairs. “Mrs. Timms, kindly send Miss Jenks next door to pack her things.”

  “Oh, dearie me,” Mrs. Timms said. “I’m so sorry, my lord. I thought, as my cousin, that she would be suitable, but . . .”

  “Your cousin, quite simply, is a madwoman. Once she is off the premises, you may come and fetch Rebecca. Lady Garrison tells me Rebecca has been beaten and deprived of food. She will remain in your care until I can send for Mrs. Rawley.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  “There must be no talk of naughtiness or punishment, Mrs. Timms,” he said. “If I ever again learn that you have spoken of her as a child of sin or the like, I shall dismiss you without a reference.”

  “Yes, my lord.” A tremor in her voice, Mrs. Timms curtsied and hurried away.

  Miles returned to the landing. “Will that do?” His sarcasm was leaking out again. He was no doubt embarrassed by his failure to choose a good governess and therefore not in the mood to listen to any more recriminations, but what choice did Melinda have?

  “Is Rebecca awake?” he said. “I should like to see her.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, my lord.”

  “Why not? We get along very well together.”

  “Because she’s had enough of a fright for today.” Melinda tried to block the way to the door.

  His brow lowered. “If you’re referring to that nonsense about beating the devil out of her, I shall explain that it’s no such thing.” He pushed past her toward the bedchamber.

  “And then you’ll tell her you mean to send her away,” Melinda said, “to live with horrid strangers who don’t care about her.”

  “Come now,” Miles said, but uneasiness crossed his face. “Why should they be horrid? Illegitimate children are frequently fostered out and do very well.”

  “She’s your daughter,” Melinda said. “Your own flesh and blood! How can you bear to send her to people you don’t even know? How can you be sure they won’t be just like Miss Jenks, proper and pious on the outside and vicious and cruel the moment your back is turned?”

  “Melinda, you’re exaggerating, and―”

  Mrs. Timm’s footsteps sounded again, and Melinda whirled away. “I shall go tell her that Miss Jenks has been dismissed, so she won’t be afraid to go with Mrs. Timms.” She composed herself and went into the bedchamber, with Miles right behind her. Rebecca was curled up under the coverlet, eyes wide.

  “I have good news for you, Rebecca,” Melinda said. “Lord Garrison is going to dismiss Miss Jenks. She will never beat you again.”

  Rebecca’s wary eyes went from Melinda to Lord Garrison.

  Miles nodded. “That’s right, Rebecca. Miss Jenks will go away, and I shall fetch Mrs. Rawley to care for you. In the meantime, you may stay in the housekeeper’s room with Mrs. Timms.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Rebecca whispered shyly. How could anyone say this child wasn’t polite?

  “You’ll have something to eat now and a good, warm supper before you go to bed,” Melinda said. “Ah, here she comes. Mrs. Timms, please give Rebecca something nourishing to eat straightaway.” She smiled at Rebecca. “I shall come see you again in a while, darling.”

  After Mrs. Timms and Rebecca had gone—Mrs. Timms looking anxious and Rebecca much more cheerful—Miles shut the bedchamber door behind them and faced Melinda. His face was closed, his voice impatient.

  “Now, let’s be rational, Melinda. There is no reason to assume that all foster parents are hateful and unkind.”

  “I don’t assume they are all that way. It’s just that there is no way to tell. Once Rebecca is elsewhere, you won’t know how they are treating her. They will not value her, but rather will say that she is there only by virtue of their charity―”

  Miles snorted. “No, by virtue of my money.”

  “Money doesn’t buy love, my lord, and whether you believe in it or not, children need love. I know what it is like to be torn from one’s mother’s arms and sent away to suffer cruelty and hatred instead.”

  “Your grandmother’s treatment of you was incomprehensible, but . . .”

  “To you, perhaps,” she snapped. She shouldn’t have said that. He would want an explanation.

  He considered her gravely and indicated the sofa. “Come sit beside me. Tell me all about it.”

  She complied; maybe if she recounted what had happened to her, his heart would soften towards Rebecca. If only she could find a way to do it without confessing the true reason for Grandmama’s hatred.

  “I suppose in some ways it was my fault,” she said. “If I’d been an obedient daughter who liked doing stitchery, I might have been allowed to stay at home. Instead, I played with my brothers and their friends, climbing trees and riding astride, and when I swam naked with Stephen and Colin, Papa became enraged. He was afraid that if he left it up to my mother, I would become wild and unprincipled.” She waited for Miles to ask in what way her mother was unprincipled . . . but he didn’t.

 
Melinda let out a secret sigh of relief. “Mama wept when he sent me to Grandmama to learn to be a lady. I was older than Rebecca, so I had more resilience, but it was horrid all the same. Grandmama loathes my mother. She couldn’t help it that my hair is ginger like Mama’s, but she was determined to weed out everything else that resembled her.”

  “Obnoxious old bat.” He put out a hand and toyed with one of her curls. “You have gorgeous hair, like a flaming flower.”