by Heather Boyd
The smile on Lady Morgan’s face dropped away suddenly.
Rebecca almost laughed at the woman’s change of expression. Her brother really should be more careful of married women with older husbands. Many became bored by the choices they’d made with their lives and looked to others for attention.
Samuel grinned. “The more, the merrier, I always say.”
Rebecca eased back as the boys peppered their father with questions about visiting the lake and it became quite clear that their trip was imminent. She bid them an enjoyable afternoon together and turned for the manor.
Lady Ava’s hand slipped into hers. “What can I do this afternoon?”
“Well,” she began, but stopped when she caught sight of Lord Rafferty coming from the direction of the house. He seemed annoyed to see her, but then the expression vanished when he noticed his daughter. Rebecca approached Rafferty slowly, a little unsure of what to say to him now. She could not be rude to the first man who had wanted to kiss her since her husband’s demise.
Lady Ava’s hand slipped from hers when they reached him.
He stared at his daughter. “What are you doing outside?”
“Forgive me, my lord,” Rebecca cut in before the girl could answer. “I thought Lady Ava might enjoy the party, so I stole her away from her studies.”
His brow rose in surprise. “Is that right?”
“Yes, indeed,” she lied.
Rafferty seemed unconvinced but shrugged. “Are you still playing games with the twins?”
“Oh, no. Not now. The children have taken their father to the lake, and they will all most likely paddle in the shallows until the sun is setting.”
Rafferty glanced past her. “Not invited to go with them?”
She caught Rafferty’s eye. “It was my idea for them to go without me. I thought it about time I joined everyone else.”
Rafferty’s lips twitched. “Done organizing us all then?”
“That is a chore that might never end, my lord.”
“True.” He turned to his daughter. “Back to the nursery for you, my girl. Your luncheon is waiting.”
“Yes, Papa,” she promised. “Thank you for thinking of me, Mrs. Warner.”
Lady Ava dipped into a curtsy and disappeared inside.
Suddenly feeling awkward, Rebecca glanced down. It wasn’t a nice feeling being unsure what to say. Rebecca had no experience flirting with a gentleman.
Rafferty, however, seemed impervious to uncertainty. “Shall we go in together?”
She looked up quickly. “I’d like that.”
“I know you just lied to me to protect Ava,” he murmured after a few steps. “My daughter escaped all by herself, didn’t she?”
“Don’t be cross with her. She was lonely and could see the twins playing outside. Technically, she never left the house until I took her outside with me.”
Rafferty grunted. “This is why I don’t have another wife yet. I always suspected I’d be conspired against in any scenario involving my daughter’s misdeeds.”
She wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. “Wives and daughters will tend to stick together.”
“Do you remember your mother?”
She was surprised by the question. “Some things but not enough, really.”
“Ava doesn’t remember her mother at all,” he admitted.
“She was very young when your wife died.” Rebecca licked her lips. “Perhaps you should marry so she might have a mother again.”
Rafferty choked and then coughed. “I’ve considered it but…these things cannot be rushed.”
“True,” she agreed. “It is a momentous decision to make a second marriage.”
“Indeed.”
They walked into the dining room together. Many were already gathered around the sideboard and took no notice of their arrival. “It is a buffet luncheon today, my lord, and you may sit anywhere you please,” she told Rafferty.
“Excellent,” he muttered before striding toward the sideboard, and the waiting servants eager to do his bidding.
Rebecca cast her eye over the gathering, noted all was in order, and then followed Rafferty, waiting her turn to be served. He did not acknowledge her and turned away to the dining table. Rebecca chose only a little of the food offered, and then turned toward the table, too.
Lord Rafferty had decided to sit in the single empty chair between Lady Morgan and Mr. Whitfield. Disappointed she could not sit next to him and continue their conversation, Rebecca moved to the opposite end of the table, where there was space for her.
Even though the food was excellent, Rebecca picked at her food. Lady Morgan’s laugh reached her ears, and she looked up. Lord Rafferty was leaning toward the viscountess, clearly enjoying what she was telling him.
A little disappointed by Lord Rafferty’s interest in Lady Morgan, a married woman, Rebecca looked away. What should she have expected?
For a moment she had started to like Lord Rafferty, but he was a scoundrel, and scoundrels had broad tastes when it came to women. She hadn’t given him any sort of encouragement. Not the kind he must usually receive after a kiss, so he’d quickly found someone else to flatter.
A fog of perfume suddenly engulfed Rebecca as Fanny settled into the next chair. “Ah, there you are, Mrs. Warner.”
“Lady Rivers,” she said by way of greeting to her sister. She was not in the mood to spar with Fanny today. Fanny was popular, especially with unattached gentlemen.
They sat side by side, unspeaking for several minutes before Fanny leaned close. “Is that a scandal I see in the making?”
Rebecca followed the direction of Fanny’s gaze to the other end of the table. The only possible scandal would be if Lord Rafferty tried to seduce a married woman and succeeded. “I don’t see anything.”
“Of course you do. I think marriage has finally begun to bore Lady Morgan. How exciting for her.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened with alarm. “Don’t say that.”
Fanny shrugged. “Why not? Oh, I know you disapprove of women engaging in discreet affairs, but not all of us dislike men the way you seem to.”
Rebecca looked at her sister in surprise. “I do not dislike gentlemen.”
Fanny sipped her wine but her expression was assessing. “My dear, your scowl gives you away every time some poor man is nice to you.”
Rebecca’s cheeks heated with embarrassment and she quickly looked around. “I do not scowl that much. I’m thinking,” she insisted.
Fanny chuckled softly. “You were always so serious when we were young. I’d hoped that might change. At least we will never compete for the affections of the same gentleman ever again.”
“What?”
“Oh, come now. There’s no need to pretend any longer. I know you wanted River for your husband from the moment you met him.”
Rebecca gaped. “That is not true.”
“Rebecca dear, it was obvious to all that you were crushed when he proposed to me instead. Things haven’t been the same between us since.”
Rebecca set down her fork. “How could you believe that? I wanted you to marry him.”
“Is that why you made sure to dance with him at every ball? I don’t think so.”
Rebecca turned in her chair and gripped her sister’s arm urgently. “Yes, I may have danced with him often, but it was so I could decide if I liked him enough to consider him a worthy inclusion to the family. If he weren’t a decent man, worthy of marrying you, I would have informed father straight away.”
Fanny appeared skeptical but then clucked her tongue. “No one has ever asked you to interfere in our lives. And did we stop you marrying your choice? No, we did not.”
Rebecca sucked in a sharp breath of shock when she spotted Lady Ava peeking around the doorway across the room. The girl ducked back out of sight quickly but Rebecca was sure she was still there hiding. She glanced around the table but no one had noticed, least of all her father. But he was still busy flirting with Lady Morgan.
&nbs
p; “I don’t care what you do anymore,” Rebecca said absently, keeping watch for the girl.
Her father would not be pleased that she had disobeyed him a second time that day.
Fanny sighed. “Oh, don’t get in a huff.”
Ava poked her head out again, and when she waggled her brows, Rebecca choked on a laugh.
Everyone at the table looked at Rebecca but, to her relief, Ava had already slipped out of sight.
Rebecca had laughed because the girl had looked so much like her father that it had taken her by surprise. She glanced at him and caught him looking away from her.
Fanny nudged her arm. “What was so amusing?”
“Oh, nothing important.”
That girl was going to get them both into trouble. Rebecca really didn’t want Rafferty to yell at Ava today, so she quickly bid her sister goodbye and went to find her.
Once outside the dining room, she looked everywhere for the girl. Eventually, a servant asked if they could be of assistance. “I seem to have lost sight of Lord Rafferty’s daughter. She was right here a moment ago.”
The servant gulped suspiciously.
“Where is she hiding?”
He pointed behind her—at the servants’ staircase.
Rebecca entered the staircase, let her eyes adjust to the dark, and found the girl backed against the opposite wall. She held out her hand for the girl to take. “If you won’t do as you are told, you will come with me.”
She took the girl down to the servants’ quarters. The great kitchens were bustling with activity, and she did not distract them by making any requests. She found the keys to the wine cellar herself, collected a candle and unlocked the door. She slipped inside, pulling the girl with her. “Here we are.”
“I don’t like it here,” Ava said immediately.
The room was cold, cavernous and every step they made echoed. Rebecca hadn’t been down here in years.
Ava nearly clung to Rebecca’s skirts as Rebecca searched the dark corners for her stored possessions, but eventually, she found what she wanted—a long wooden case hidden under a bundle of discarded sacks. She opened the box and grinned. “I think this might change your mind. Look.”
She took out a padded vest, one worn for protection, and showed the girl what was underneath.
“Is this yours?”
“Yes, I was about your age when I last wore this vest. Father insisted I needed protection from my brothers.” She took it back and helped Lady Ava don the garment, buckling the straps firmly. “What do you think?”
The girl spun about in a circle as if wearing a pretty new gown. “It’s perfect.”
Then Rebecca slipped her fingers around the hilt of a small tarnished sword and showed the girl that, too.
“It’s not made of wood. It’s just my size!” Lady Ava cried.
Rebecca nodded. “It is only to be used for practice.”
She handed Ava the weapon by the hilt.
“She’s wearing protection, but you are not, Mrs. Warner,” Lord Rafferty warned from the open doorway. “Are you sure that is wise?”
“Papa, look at me!”
“I’m looking.” While Lord Rafferty and his daughter admired her padding, Rebecca found the old practice dummy leaning against one corner of the room and dragged it to the middle of the open space.
Ava was quick to join her. “What’s that for?”
“Practice dummies do not bleed like your father or I will.”
Ava approached the dummy and struck it once, awkwardly. “Like that?”
“No. Here, let me show you how we do it at Stapleton.”
Rebecca took possession of the weapon, recalling the instruction she’d been given as a child. She wielded the little sword a bit awkwardly at first but soon got a feel for the blade once more. She advanced on the dummy and then danced around it, striking as often as she could.
Lady Ava was right. Swordplay was invigorating—at any age, too.
When she stopped, Lord Rafferty clapped. “Now that was a performance I would have paid to see.”
A little flustered by the compliment, Rebecca handed the girl the weapon. In her renewed joy in the sport, she had forgotten she had an audience. “It will take practice, but if you apply yourself, you might one day be competent enough to face a real opponent.”
“Let us hope not,” Lord Rafferty muttered.
She glanced his way and noticed an odd smile on his face.
That man. Perhaps it was his size, but she couldn’t look away. He was broad in the chest, more substantial than most men in every room. He had attractive features, he wasn’t pretty, but he seemed assured. Confident. Perhaps that’s what she noticed most of all about him.
He drew closer. “One of these days, you and I will have to engage in swordplay.”
“Do you think I haven’t the skill to take your blade, my lord?” she asked.
He choked, and Rebecca suddenly realized what she’d actually said had a scandalous second meaning. She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, Lord Rafferty’s expression was utterly delighted.
He advanced a step to whisper, “I know you can take me.” His lips quirked. “But we’ll never know how well we fit until you invite me to your room. Tonight?”
“Did you see me, Papa?”
Rebecca whipped around, horrified she’d forgotten the girl could be listening. “You were wonderful,” she promised quickly.
“Yes, wonderful,” Lord Rafferty agreed, moving past Rebecca with a sigh. “How about you give your papa a turn with that little thing.”
Rebecca shrank back into the shadows but kept her gaze on Rafferty as he moved.
He was still interested in her, but she had a lot to lose if he was discovered in her bedchamber, or seen leaving it later. The respect of her family was important to her. She could not throw out her morals simply for one night in Lord Rafferty’s arms without considering the future. But Rebecca couldn’t deny he tempted her.
Chapter 9
Adam looked up as the door to his bedchamber creaked open just a bit—and then he was utterly dumbfounded to see Rebecca Warner dart inside. The door shut quietly behind her, and he stood still in shock. What the devil was Rebecca doing traipsing about the manor house in her nightgown or coming into his room at this time of night?
There must be something wrong. “What is it? Is Ava all right?”
“Your daughter is fast asleep already,” she assured him in a whisper. “I made sure she was before I decided to come see you.”
He drew closer, noting Rebecca appeared anxious, wringing her hands before her. She was dressed for the bedchamber—her hair tied in a loose plait that draped forward over her shoulder to her waist. “If not Ava, then what is wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, my lord.”
“Then why are you here?”
Rebecca remained by the door a moment, her eyes large and fixed on his, but then she took a single step in his direction. “I thought… You offered to…” she began, and then clamped her lips together.
He’d offered to share her bed, but she hadn’t invited him. He’d phrased his offer many different ways, and he’d definitely been understood. He’d kissed her and received no reaction to that, either. Certain he’d failed, he’d made one last attempt that afternoon but Ava had spoken, and he hadn’t been alone with Rebecca since.
Had he been entirely mistaken about his chances? Had Rebecca been thinking about his suggestion all this time and only now found her courage?
Adam ran his eyes over the woman again, liking what he saw very much. Her body was hidden beneath yards of soft white muslin and lace, but that didn’t diminish her appeal. He could hardly believe that the prim and proper woman had come to his bedchamber dressed like that—or for the purpose he hoped. “Are you here for me?”
Her head dipped quickly into a nod.
He had underestimated the woman—she might feel just as lonely as he did, but she was not confident of what she was doing. That much w
as evident in her nervous mannerisms now.
“Welcome then,” he murmured, and then slowly advanced on her.
Rebecca held her ground, but he could see her panic clearly. She was breathing too fast, and she wasn’t looking him in the eye as she usually would. He’d rather not have Rebecca in his bed if she was going to regret it afterward. “I know what I said to you was shocking. I’m a direct man, and I do want you. I didn’t expect you to take such a risk with your reputation by coming to me this way.”
“I would rather it be this way,” she whispered, and then looked up. “There will be no misunderstandings between us after.”
“You do realize you will not be able to claim you didn’t desire me, don’t you?”
She nodded. “You will not misunderstand my intentions, either. You do not own me. After tonight, we will never speak of this again.”
He frowned at her request. As a young man, he’d tried to avoid entanglements with lovers who’d expected a commitment. But he was older now and valued women more than he once had. What if he wanted another night with Rebecca? It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he would still desire her in his bed come morning.
But if she said no, then it was no, and he would not argue. If she changed her mind after tonight, he would not tease her for it or refuse her. “No one should own anyone,” he promised. “Come here.”
And she would come many times during the night if he had his way, too. Something about the prickly Rebecca had always gotten under his skin. He wanted to do indecent things with her. He needed to make her scream, make her moan and beg to come undone again and again.
She took a step toward him and stopped closer than she usually would dare in public.
She was a small thing, every woman was small compared to him, but her eyes were fixed on his chest, and her sharp intake of breath seemed quite loud in the quiet room. He watched the play of emotions on her face. He had already begun undressing for bed. All he had on was his shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a pair of thin unmentionables clinging to his hips.
He wondered when was the last time she’d seen a man without breeches. “I can hardly believe you are here,” he whispered, brushing his fingertips across her warm cheek.
