He’d arrived back at the cottage that the Moorish family had graciously allowed them to stay in and found both of his friends already retired for the evening.
Which had been just as well. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he hadn’t felt like drinking or carousing. Rather, he’d gone to bed and lay awake wondering if Adrianna had recovered. Over and over he’d pictured the feel of her against his body, her tantalizing scent. Christ, he’d gotten up out of bed and found his jacket, pulling the cloth to his nose. Sure enough, the scent of violets had filled his nostrils. He’d returned to the bed, jacket in hand. Then he realized that he was acting like a lovesick schoolboy. He hadn’t behaved like this since Miranda.
His gut clenched as he’d tossed the jacket aside. Miranda had been a lovely blonde too. Unlike Adrianna, she’d been a model of sweet decorum, always behaving exactly as a lady should. He’d fallen hard for her angelic façade and her wholesome demeanor, and he’d courted her relentlessly. And she’d returned his affection, even allowing him liberties that she’d given no man before him. Which had convinced him that she did so because they had a possible future together.
His older brother, the current earl, had thrown a large soiree with the intention of finding a bride. With their father’s death, he’d taken the title and was intent upon continuing the family line with an heir.
Luke had invited Miranda and her family with the intent of also finding a bride. He’d purchased a ring and planned a proposal in the garden at exactly midnight. He’d even convinced his brother to buy fireworks and light them off at midnight as part of the party.
He’d danced with Miranda, holding her in his arms and whispering to meet him in the garden. She’d pressed close to him, and whispered back that he was such a rake, pulling her out for all these illicit meetings. He’d laughed in her ear and promised her he was only her rake. No one else’s.
At quarter to midnight, he’d made his way to the appointed spot, waiting for his love. She hadn’t come. At first, he’d thought she’d lost her way and looked for her. When he couldn’t find her, he’d circled closer to the house just as the first fireworks started to launch. As they exploded, lighting the veranda below, he saw the clear vision of Miranda tucked on his brother’s arm as he leaned down and spoke in her ear.
Miranda had been a perfect lady and perfect ladies married titled gentleman, not the spares.
Miranda should have taught him to never allow a woman past his defenses again but as he’d lain in bed, he’d stared at his now-crumpled jacket on the floor. Thank goodness he was leaving tomorrow, because Miss Adrianna Moorish had begun to do just that. She’d penetrated the thick walls he’d built around his emotions. Frightening, considering he’d only known her for a day.
He’d finally managed a few hours of sleep and then woke early to walk along the shore of Seabridge Gate. The sun sparkled on the water, the grass looking fresh and clean with dew. Last night what he thought had been disgustingly sweet, this morning looked fresh and clean. Wholesome in a way that quieted his restless soul.
By the time he’d returned to the cottage, both Dashlane and Craven were up and dressed. “Shall we go to the inn for breakfast?” he asked as he stepped into the kitchen.
Craven nodded his dark head, his gaze unreadable as always. “Did you secure passage?”
“I did,” he said, his gut clenching. The thought of going to Balstead’s suddenly unappealing.
Craven frowned. “I’ve decided not to join you.”
He raised a brow but didn’t have time to answer as Dashlane spoke next. “I’m not going either.”
Both his brows went up. “May I ask why?”
Dashlane shrugged. “We’re already ridiculously late. All the good ladies will be taken.”
Craven crossed his arms. “I just don’t want to go anymore.” He frowned. “I’m not certain I ever did.”
Craven was a man of few words but of strong convictions. “Of course,” he answered, his own mouth turning down. “I’ll venture on alone since my best travelling companions have abandoned me.”
Dashlane grunted. “You’re perfectly capable of getting yourself to Haversham.”
Crestwood looked down at his boots. “I am indeed.” He had the sudden feeling that he didn’t want to go either. Which was ridiculous. He’d not allow Adrianna or any other woman to change his character now. Doing so simply begged for trouble. He didn’t want to live through another letdown like the one Miranda had given him. “I’ll just take your ladies as well as mine.”
Dashlane gave him a smile and a clap on the back. “Now that sounds like the man I know and sort of despise.”
Luke glared at his friend as he opened the door. “And here I was going to offer to introduce you to the Moorish family.”
Dashlane paused, his nose wrinkling. “I’m not sure I wish to meet them anyhow.” He ran a hand through his golden hair. “Something about Ophelia unsettled me. Are they all as pretty as she is?”
“Yes,” he answered honestly. “All different, but each beautiful in her own way.”
“And are they as kind?” This from Craven, who rarely asked questions.
Luke gave Craven a sidelong glance as he stopped in the street, his gaze on the town square that flanked their left. “Each is as wholesome. I don’t know about kind. From the little I gathered, they all have something that makes them sparkle. I’ve never met a family quite like them. It’s…” He didn’t know how to complete the thought. Frightening, wonderful, annoying. He wasn’t certain.
The other two men paused next to him. Dashlane rubbed his neck. “Have either of you looked about this place and gotten the impression it holds some sort of youthful magic you lost when you grew up?”
Luke shifted. “I didn’t lose it. I thrust it away because it was an illusion and not real. That sort of feeling makes you do foolish things that end up getting a man hurt.”
Neither man answered as they continued to the inn entering the bustling establishment and looked about for a seat.
The place hummed with a happy energy as neighbors called to one another. Luke and his companions slipped into an empty table, remaining quiet. He didn’t know what Craven or Dashlane had on their minds, not that he cared. He’d carefully constructed a world that kept him safe from ever being hurt again and Seabridge Gate was trying to strip that defense away. He’d better get on the boat—and quick.
Adrianna took a large sip of tea, eager for the fortifying warmth the beverage would bring. She’d not slept well last night, plagued by dreams of rogues and their delightful kisses. Not that he’d kissed her, but apparently her imagination had gone wild with what such a touch might be like.
She had to admit Juliet might have had a point about practicing a few skills. Not that it mattered now. Lord Crestwood would get on a boat and be gone today, never to be seen again. And besides, she was more interested in honing her sparring skills than her kissing ones.
Not that she’d ever kissed a man before. Perhaps she should work on such activities after all. She was perfectly suited to protect her sisters, but perhaps lacking in the skills with which to find a husband of her own.
She tightened her grip on her teacup as a frown touched her lips. While she’d help all of her sisters find good matches, she’d like to be able to wed a husband of her own as well.
Adrianna brought her teacup to her lips, drawing in another generous sip of tea and then took a bite of her toast. It had to be half past ten and her family had already begun their daily activities. Her father would normally be upset she’d slept so late, but perhaps he’d forgive her because she’d nearly fainted the night before.
She let out a sigh as she took another bite. Juliet had been correct about something else as well. Very few appropriate eligible men came through these parts and Adrianna wondered when she might meet another again. Their father had been so busy with his business, he’d yet to take them to London for a season. Who knows when he might finally get around to such an event? E
specially now that their oldest sister was engaged.
Her father loved a good story and she could picture him crafting one in his mind where he firmly believed fate would intervene and provide a husband for each of his daughters. No wonder she needed to be so protective. They were a lovely family, but the lot had their heads in the clouds. Her father was the worst of all.
“Adrianna,” Juliet yelled breathlessly from the hall. “Adrianna, are you in there?”
“Yes,” she called back, rising from her chair. “Whatever is the matter?”
“Oh, Adrianna,” her sister called, sounding particularly dramatic. As children, her father had set up elaborate theatrical performances of a great many plays. Adrianna recognized Juliet’s theater voice instantly. “It’s my cat, Mittens. She and her three kittens are gone!”
Juliet came sailing into the room, Bianca just behind her. “You have to help me find them.”
Adrianna held in a sigh. She was busy moping. And this wasn’t a real emergency. She was certain of that. “Have you checked the kitchen? She often leads the kittens down there to snitch milk.”
Juliet rolled her eyes. “Of course, I did. And the barn, the music room, and the attic. We’ll need to expand our search and head toward the village.”
“The village?” Adrianna cried. “Why would she bring her kittens…”
“There is no time to argue,” Juliet called over her as she headed back out the door. “We must go. Hurry.”
Bianca lingered behind with a shrug. “I’ve tried reasoning with her. But there’s no hope. You know how Juliet is when she’s decided upon something.”
Adrianna picked up her second wedge of toast and took a large bite. “Let’s go then. I’ll get an empty flour sack from the kitchen. If we’re going to do a village-wide search for four tiny cats, we’d better get started.”
Bianca stepped in front of her sister, giving her a small hug. “You know that under your tough façade is a heart made of soft, squishy, sweet treats, don’t you?”
Adrianna snorted. “Hardly. I’m only doing this so she doesn’t chirp about me all day.”
Bianca winked. “Of course you are.” Then Bianca held up a finger. “Perhaps there will be a silver lining to this. The kittens will soon be old enough for new homes. Mayhap we can find them some while we’re in the village.”
Adrianna shook her head. Bianca had a sweet optimism that infected everyone around her. “I just hope this doesn’t take all day. I’ve a full schedule.”
“Doing what?” Bianca asked.
Adrianna frowned. Dreaming of kissing rogues.
Chapter Five
Luke ate another bite of eggs, understanding why the inn was full at breakfast. They were delicious. Or was that the fact that he wasn’t nursing a hangover? He decided he didn’t care as he stuffed another bite into his mouth.
The bell over the entry door gave another merry little ring as more patrons entered the establishment. It was busy.
But he didn’t bother to look up as he added a piece of pork to his bite of bread.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” a feminine voice called from just behind him. “I stopped at the cottage first, but you weren’t there. Which is obvious because you’re here.”
He blinked and looked up at Dashlane, sure that the woman talking couldn’t be speaking to them. They only knew a handful of people in the entire village and none of them were likely to come looking for them. But Dashlane lifted his brow as he stared just over Luke’s shoulder. A quick glance at Craven made Luke sit back in his chair. The man looked starstruck, which was the strangest thing Luke had seen in some time. Craven’s face always looked exactly the same, near expressionless. Except for right this very moment. His shaggy brows had lifted, revealing that his eyes were a shade of grey green while his mouth hung open a bit, showing two rows of perfectly straight teeth. Who would have guessed the man was sort of handsome under his constant scowl?
“Miss Juliet.” Dashlane stood, tossing his napkin into the seat of his chair. “How can we assist you?”
Luke turned in his seat to see it was, in fact, Juliet behind him, Bianca at her left shoulder. He swiveled back around to see Craven also rising from his chair. But it wasn’t Juliet his friend stared at. If Luke wasn’t mistaken, it was Bianca who’d captured his fancy.
Grinning despite himself, he rose too. While Bianca was far too airy for his own tastes, it occurred to him that someone as serious as Craven might do well with such a lady. He looked at his friend again. Craven’s mouth had finally snapped closed and his brow had returned to normal, but intensity rolled off the man in waves.
“Oh.” Juliet waved her hands. “I’m so glad you asked. I need your help and I’m not sure where else to turn.”
Luke didn’t respond as he waited for the young woman to finish. Even he had enough manners for that. But he did note that she’d lived in this village her entire life. In all likelihood, she could turn to literally every other person in this room before she asked them. “With what?” he asked as the silence stretched out. Apparently, it was his turn to talk.
Her hands fluttered as she drew in a big gulp of air and started to speak. “I’ve lost Mittens.”
Dashlane scrunched his forehead and scratched his chin. “Well. That’s all right. It’s spring. I’m sure you can make new ones before the winter comes.”
“Pardon me.” Bianca stepped around her sister and Craven visibly jolted. Luke fought to keep a grin from stretching across his face. It wouldn’t do to tease a man who’d been struck with emotion. “She doesn’t mean a pair of mittens. She means Mittens her cat. And as Mittens has three kittens, we’re particularly worried.”
Juliet nodded. “Mary, the maid attending your cottage, is her favorite. So I’d wondered if she’d turned up at the cottage this morning?”
Luke relaxed, glad that Juliet had a valid reason for seeking them out. For a moment he’d been afraid he’d be searching the entire village for a cat. “No. No sign of her. But I wish—”
Juliet slid toward him, grabbing his arm in both her gloved hands. “Oh but you must help me,” she cried.
He softly swore under his breath. It was as bad as he’d feared after all. “I don’t think—”
“What if her babies are eaten by bears or—”
Dashlane cleared his throat. “There are no bears in England.”
“No?” Juliet seemed unperturbed. “Wolves?”
“Nope. None of those either.” Dashlane grinned. “Perhaps there are very aggressive moles, which could be dangerous to tiny kittens?”
Juliet clapped her hands, finally letting go of his arm. “Exactly, my lord. Now would you all be so kind as to help?”
He didn’t answer as he glared at the woman. He had a plan. A good one and it involved him leaving this sleepy little hamlet and continuing on with his wickedly safe life. The one where he didn’t wake to see sunrises and he never held women in his arms that he cared a whit about.
Juliet gave him a sidelong glance. “Lord Crestwood, Adrianna is searching down on the beach near our house. Perhaps you could assist her?”
His eyes widened. Had he been that obvious that Juliet would know he’d like to see Adrianna again? He had a boat to catch and only a little more than an hour with which to get to the pier. But then again, it was an opportunity to see the woman who had plagued his thoughts all night. Had he dreamed that she was so fetching? Perhaps if he saw her, he’d realize she was just another country girl and then he could put his life back in the order it had happily existed in before he’d arrived at this place. A little voice whispered that the plan was complete folly, but he pushed it aside.
In the light of day, she’d be an ordinary girl and he could board that boat, free of any emotional entanglement.
Adrianna walked along the beach, breathing in the scent of fresh sea air. She’d been wrong. Searching for Mittens was exactly what she’d needed. The sun shone brightly down, casting her shadow toward the cliffs. She did a tiny spin a
nd watched her shadow mimic the movement and then she laughed.
Exercise and air had given her perspective. First, her father would surely bring them to London for a season soon. Adrianna herself had come of age, meaning that he had four daughters that needed husbands. He wasn’t going to allow them all to become spinsters. And Crestwood would never make good marriage material. She’d successfully frightened him off with her and her sisters’ virtues all intact. She should be celebrating, not moping.
In addition, she’d gained some potentially vital skills. She rubbed her cheeks. Of course, if she’d practiced kissing a man, that might have been even better, but there was no changing things now. He was boarding a boat and she was searching for a lost cat. And besides, even if Juliet had a point, Crestwood was not the man to learn such a skill. He was too dangerous. She felt it deep inside.
Better to see him gone. She’d sharpened her wit and she was ready to keep her sisters safe for a season in London. Being the youngest, she’d marry last, and in the meantime, she’d be sure all her sisters’ virtues remained intact. Crestwood had been right about one thing. London was a deceptive place that the Moorish girls were not prepared for.
“Hello there,” a deep voice called from just behind her. “Has anyone ever told you that you look lovely on the beach?”
She reached a hand up to place on top of her wide-brimmed straw hat to keep it in place. “You,” she called out, spinning in the sand. “You’re supposed to be on a boat.”
Luke stood behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. “It doesn’t leave for three quarters of an hour yet. I’ll make it, I’m sure, so you needn’t worry yourself on my account. I’m glad to see you too, my little peach.”
The little hairs on the back of her neck prickled at his term of endearment. “I’m not your little anything,” she answered, taking a step back. “And I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”
Romancing the Rake: Seven Regency Romances Page 12
