Romancing the Rake: Seven Regency Romances

by Tammy Andresen

  “And I’d like you to know that my friend, Lady Rainsville, really will be travelling with Charlie this summer. She’s in need of someone well-connected to help her.”

  “Why does a married woman need that sort of help?”

  “She’s widowed and penniless,” he grimaced. “You know what society would think if I provided for her financially. She needs a new husband.”

  “Why not marry her yourself?” Craven asked.

  “She’s the closest thing to a sister I have in this world.” And he’d made that vow. And he’d asked her out of obligation. It would have been a marriage in name only, so it hadn’t seemed like a betrayal of his promise.

  Craven eyed him. “So you’re alone with Charlie to help another woman?”

  He supposed that did sound odd but it was, at least partially, true. “Yes.”

  “And what does Charlie get out of all of this?” Craven asked.

  The ladies appeared below them on the path. They’d catch up soon.

  Raithe looked down as her brown hair shimmered in the sun. “You should ask her that question, but from what I understand, she’s lonely. Her brother and her cousin are married or about to be and her parents…” Something clicked. She’d been orphaned at the age of thirteen. And now her brother had left her to go on his honeymoon. Rathmore was marrying too. It was as if her entire family had melted away, leaving her all alone. How had he dealt with that loneliness? He’d chased every easy skirt this side of London.

  And Charlie was doing the same. Prior to this week, she’d flirted only as much as society would allow her. But as she faced all sorts of changes, she’d committed a few acts she’d be ostracized for having done. With him. “Feck,” he swore running a hand through his hair.

  “What?” Craven asked, giving him a sidelong glance.

  “She needs to get married and start a family of her own.” He looked at the ground, kicking at a pebble.

  “Of course she does. She’s a lady,” Craven’s hands went up as though Raithe had said the most obvious thing in the world.

  He shook his head. “I mean emotionally. She’s lost her parents and now her brother and cousin, her only family are moving on with their lives. She’s hurting and needs love to fill her life.”

  Craven’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought about that. Poor thing, losing her parents so young.” Then one side of Craven’s mouth turned down. “Odd. But after that comment, I feel less like hitting you.”

  “Too bad.” Raithe stood straighter. “We’re definitely boxing. I need to hit something and soon. I’ve got to have some sort of release or—” He stopped, looking at Craven.

  The other man notched his brows. “No release for you? That actually does make me feel better. But I’m warning you. I’m still watching, and at the end of the day, I’ll see her married to you before I see her ruined.”

  Raithe started up the hill. “We’ll meet in the garden in half an hour. And in terms of behaving myself, I’ve been warned.”

  Chapter Ten

  Charlie stood at the window watching the men below. Craven and Raithe were stripped to the waist, hitting each other for all they were worth. She could hear the thud of flesh against flesh. “It sounds like it hurts.”

  Ophelia smiled from her spot on the settee, her foot bandaged and raised. “Men are odd creatures. Interesting but odd.”

  Bianca joined her at the window. “They are beautiful to look at though, aren’t they?”

  Charlie had to agree. Even from here, she could see Raithe’s thick, rippling muscles, his more narrow waist, the bulge of his chest. “They certainly are.” Then she leaned closer to Bianca. “I’d like to have a better look.”

  Bianca winked but she gave her head a tiny little shake of dissent. “I’m afraid we can’t.”

  Charlie sighed. “Too bad.”

  Ophelia cleared her throat. “What is this I hear about you helping out Balstead’s friend?”

  “She’s a widow, titled but penniless. She needs a new husband.” Her eyes were still trained on the men below. Craven hit Raithe in the ribs, but he fired back with a punch to the other man’s gut.

  “Oh. That is terrible.” Ophelia shook her head. “It’s kind of you to help, of course, but I’m wondering why you would?”

  Charlie nibbled at her lip. The truth would not do her any favors here. “I could use the diversion, truthfully. I’ve never liked being alone and Dane will be busy with Juliet. The companionship will do me as much good as I do her.”

  Ophelia let out a soft breath. “I wish I could get up and hug you now.”

  Peeling her eyes from the men, she turned back to the woman she’d call family soon, crossed the room and wrapped Ophelia in a large hug. “I’m so glad we’ll be family.”

  “Me too,” Ophelia replied as she held Charlie tight. “I want to tell you that losing my mother was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. If you ever want to talk.”

  “And me too.” Bianca came up behind her, wrapping her in a hug from the other side. “And can I just say that when Ophelia and then Adrianna got engaged, I started to worry. Our family, which had held me up through my grief, was changing and I didn’t know how that would feel, at first.”

  Tears stung Charlie’s eyes as she sat there, wrapped in their arms. “I hate to be alone, dislike boredom. It gives my mind time to wander and remember.”

  “Remember what?” Bianca softly asked.

  “How awful it was. Knowing I’d never see them again.” Her voice shook. “Dane retreated to his room for several days. He’s a quiet man. And I just walked around wondering if anyone would hug me…” She stopped, her voice catching. “I was so afraid no one would love me ever again.”

  “Of course they will,” Bianca cried, rocking all three of them back and forth. “We love you already. Your family loves you. And when you finally decide to settle down, your husband will—” Bianca stopped, looking at her sister.

  Charlie turned back from Bianca to look at Ophelia, who brushed a stray hair of Charlie’s from her face. “Your husband will fill your heart to near bursting with love.”

  “I believe you. I used to think that the attention of men was enough to fill this void I have inside. The one that still misses having a whole family. But the past few days, I’ve wondered if one man wouldn’t be far better.” The image of a particular man unfurled in her mind, and her heart skipped a beat.

  “A man like Balstead?” Bianca asked, her voice full of teasing.

  But Ophelia frowned. “I worry about that man. Even among rakes he seems dangerous.”

  Charlie let out a long sigh. “I asked him how I would know the difference between a genuine man’s affection and a rake’s. He said that a genuine man would be far more concerned with my happiness than his own.”

  “That is beautifully said,” Ophelia gushed. “And good advice.”

  “How did you know that your men were the right men?” she asked, finally easing back from their hug.

  Ophelia twisted her hands together. “I didn’t have anyone to ask for their advice. The unfortunate part of being the first of my sisters to wed and not having my mother. But I did know that he was hurting and I knew I wanted to help him. So, I suppose I too was more concerned for him than for myself.”

  Bianca sat on the end of the settee, patting Ophelia’s leg. “That is so like you.” Then she giggled. “For me, Chris made me feel beautiful and desirable when no one else did. And it helped that he beat up several men in my defense.”

  Charlie had to smile at that. “I could see how that would have its appeal.” Then she crossed back to the window. “Mayhap, they hit one another to practice for the day they might need to defend one of us.”

  Bianca clapped her hands together once. “That’s an excellent conclusion.”

  Charlie pressed her cheek to the glass as she watched Raithe move with precision and grace. She’d take his attention over that of the entire army, she decided. Too bad he’d made it clear that he’d never marry
.

  But at least some good had come of this. She’d come to terms with what she needed in her life. It was time to find her future and the man who would fill it. Because the ladies were right. Filling her heart with love was the only thing that might help her to heal.

  Raithe stretched his muscles, which were perfectly sore from all the punches he’d taken. He’d hoped that a good fight might slow the constant thoughts of Charlie but they didn’t. Hell, he shouldn’t be surprised.

  Even back in London before he’d held her in his arms, he’d been completely infatuated. He rubbed his face with his hands. Every social engagement he’d attended, he’d been aware of her presence. Who she danced with, where she was in the room, the color of her dress and how it set off her hazel eyes.

  He might have stayed away from her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t constantly at the forefront of his mind.

  And now he’d had a delicious taste of her mouth, had peeked under her skirts. He was moving from smitten to complete infatuation.

  A bath was pulled into the room and hot water filled the tub. He removed his clothes and eased himself down for a warm, soothing soak before scrubbing his skin.

  If he married Charlie, he reasoned, it would be even easier to help Cassandra.

  Raithe closed his eyes. But what about Jenni and the promises he’d made on her behalf? He frowned as he scrubbed his skin harder. He’d wanted to honor her memory. The love they’d shared, the sacrifice of her life to give him a child. He couldn’t allow an infatuation to diminish her loss during childbirth.

  The tub was pushed close to the fire, despite the fact that no fire burned. He sat in the cooling water, no closer to an answer. He wanted Charlie in the worst way but he didn’t want to compromise his past.

  A soft tapping from the patio caught his attention. Was there a bird at his door? Twisting his neck around, he caught a strip of purple in the narrow view the curtains provided and the delicate fingers of a lady.

  He surged up from the tub, wrapping a towel about his waist as he made his way to the door. Sure enough, Charlie stood on the balcony of his room, one arm wrapped about her stomach, the other raised to knock again. Desire and irritation snaked down his body. He wanted to see her again. But he also knew, as he’d said earlier, they were playing with fire. He yanked open the door. “What are you doing here?”

  She swallowed, glancing over her shoulder. “May I come in? I’m not terribly fond of heights.”

  “Then why come out onto the balcony?” Many of the windows had individual balconies. But his was at the very top of the house and one long platform stretched across the entire floor, overlooking the ocean.

  “I needed to speak with you…privately.”

  He grabbed her elbow and pulled her into the room, leaving the doors open. “You shouldn’t have come.”

  Her eyes started at his neck and slid down his body, color blooming in her cheeks. “Perhaps not.” Her gaze stopped at his midriff. “I did expect to find you dressed.”

  “This is my private chamber. In which innocent ladies should not be present.”

  Rather than answer, she lifted a hand and touched his collarbone, tracing a single finger over the protrusion before she slid her hand lower, tracing the muscles of his chest, then she flattened her palm and trailed it down the flat of his stomach. He caught the hand at his waist, his wayward body betraying his need for her.

  “Charlie,” he groaned, squeezing her fingers in his own.

  She gave a tiny nod. “I know. I shouldn’t.” Then she swallowed. “But you’re so beautiful.”

  “Beautiful?” He couldn’t help it, that made him grin despite himself and he brought her fingers up to his lips, kissing her palm. “Not a word often used for men.”

  She moved a bit closer. “I know. But your muscles, the way your body moves, I saw you fighting with Lord Craven today.”

  He let out a low chuckle. She’d been impressed by masculinity, had she? His eyes drifted closed. There was so much simmering sexuality in Charlie just waiting for the right man to unlock it. Him.

  He touched her waist and drew her to his still-wet chest. “What are you doing here, Charlie?”

  She slid her fingers from his and rested them on the bare skin of his chest again. “I…” Her lashes fluttered as she looked down at his bare skin and then back up at his face. “I wanted to ask you something, but it required privacy.”

  He thought of what he’d been about to do on the beach, before they’d been interrupted. Here she was, tucked in his room where no one would find them. He snaked his other arm just under her ass and lifted her into his arms. She let out a small gasp as her other arm wrapped about his neck. “Is it more questions about pleasure? Did you want to know the specific ways a man might give a woman what she needs?”

  Her heart hammered against his chest as her fingers dug into his skin. “I do want to know that.”

  Everything in him tightened and his manhood was at full staff, which would be completely obvious in nothing but a towel. Her fingers were dancing little circles on his flesh as they reached the bed. “Did you come up here so that I might show you?”

  She shook her head, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. He tracked the movement, resisting the urge to nip at the flesh. “No. Maybe.” Then she leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on his mouth. “I told myself when I came here that I wouldn’t be distracted.”

  He kissed her again and eased her back on the bed. “I have to confess that I am really enjoying these lessons. Though, I should likely hold some back. You’ve yet to fulfill a single bit of your side of the bargain.”

  This time, her legs settled easily around his body, his rod poking into her skirts. The fabric irritated him and he reached for her hem, pulling it up. He’d suspected down on the beach but as his fingers grazed past her stockings, he realized she wasn’t wearing any pantaloons. His fingers hit her bare, creamy thighs and they both groaned. “Until you bring Cassandra here, it’s very difficult for me to uphold my end.”

  “True,” he murmured as he kissed a trail down her throat. “What I wouldn’t give to strip you naked and see every inch of you.”

  His fingers just brushed her soft folds and she gasped, parting for him in the most delicious way. “Can a woman give a man pleasure in multiple ways?”

  He nearly came undone. The very idea of her pleasing him in any fashion made him throb. “God, Charlie. You could undo a man.”

  He stroked his fingers down her seam, reveling in her slick folds. She was so wet for him and he wanted her so much.

  In response, her fingers danced down his body until they reached the towel and then she parted the fabric, reaching between them and wrapping her hand about his rod. Nearly every part of his mind turned off, the blood rushing south. He thrust into her hand, desperate for release and she seemed to understand, letting her hand slide along his staff.

  “Do you like that?” she asked.

  “Bloody hell,” he ground out. “Charlie. You’re so naturally good at…” He squeezed his eyes shut. He had to gain control. He’d tup her before he’d thought it out and then he’d have to marry her. “I can’t do this.” But he couldn’t make himself pull away, either, as one of his fingers sank into her wet channel.

  She moaned, melting into him even as she kissed him again, stroking her fingers up and down, making him pulse with need. “Is it because of your first wife?”

  Those words were like a bucket of icy water dumped upon his head.

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlie felt him withdraw a second before he actually jumped away from her. Her hand caught on the towel about his waist and he stood back completely naked, his hands coming to his hips.

  Her skirts were still up, her legs parted to accommodate his body. Charlie didn’t bother to close them or push down her skirts. He was still far more exposed then she was and that was what this conversation was really about. Stripping away the barriers between them.

  She dropped the towel and pushed u
p onto her elbows. His shoulders lowered a bit as he looked from her breasts down to the area between her legs, now completely exposed to him.

  For her part, she attempted to keep her eyes off his member jutting out from his body. It was both intimidating and exciting and she longed to hold it in her hand again. Even taste… She snapped her gaze back to his eyes.

  “Pull down your skirt,” he said through clenched teeth.

  In response, she pulled the hem higher, allowing her knees to fall further apart. “I want to know the truth. Why won’t you marry again?”

  He made a deep rumble in the back of his throat. Then he reached out and grabbed her ankle, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. “Is that the game we’re playing?”

  She shook her head. “Actually, I wanted it to be the opposite of a game. Just you and me and the truth.”

  One of his eyebrows went up. “Sans clothing?”

  “Well, that is one way to strip down…so to speak.” His fingers skimmed back up her leg.

  “Very well.” When he reached the top of her stocking, he traced his fingers along the edge. “I married my first sweetheart. Her name was Jennifer, but I called her Jenni.”

  The next words caught in her throat. “Were you in love?”

  “Yes,” he answered, his fingers stilling.

  “What did she look like?” She swallowed a raw lump, her voice barely working. Now she wished to close her legs but she held still.

  “She was very fair, and very fragile, and I tended her like a rare flower.”

  She winced, those words hurting far more than she’d expected. The love he’d felt for Jenni was so obvious that she could barely breathe. “And then what?”

  He raised a shoulder. “She became enceinte. Pregnant with my child. Neither made it through the birth.”

  Charlie ached for him. Her own jealousies were forgotten as she scrambled up onto her knees, her skirts falling back over her legs and she wrapped her arms about his neck, holding him tight to her chest. “I am so sorry.”