A Lady's Guide to Rakes (10 page)

It did not take a great scholar to know that on Wednesday next, Chillton would seek from her aunts’ permission to many her.

Ah odd rawness scraped at the back of Meredith’s throat and her eyes prickled. It was ridiculous to feel disappointed in the man for testing her. He was Chillton, after all, and he abhorred risk. She should expect no less from him.

With a sniffle, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and moved from the window. What a goose she was being.

Mr. Chillton was going to marry her—the thing she wanted most in this world. This was a time of celebration.

Or, at least, it should be.

She sank down on the settee and, as she rested her forehead in her hand, released a long sigh.

———

Three days later, Meredith’s mood was bright once again. Her aunts, bless them, had accepted an invitation that would whisk the three of them from dreary London, albeit only for an afternoon, to a fashionable picnic at Brumley Court.

Instead of peering out her window at the tightly packed houses of Hanover Square, twiddling her thumbs and waiting for the days that stood between her and Wednesday to pass, Meredith now strolled atop Brumley Mount, drawing the country air blissfully deep into her lungs. Even from this distance, she could hear her aunt Letitia’s booming laugh and it made her smile.

Scores of turreted white tents dotted the rolling green lawns of Brumley Court, on what certainly had to be the most splendid day of the season. The sun shone brightly overhead, and the air was unusually cool, bringing to Meredith’s mind a day in mid-autumn rather than late June.

Ladies and gentlemen in straw hats sat on blankets, or on folding chairs clustered beneath the tents, supping on delicacies from wicker baskets. They strolled the hillsides hunting for a few late strawberries that had not been carried off by birds.

As Meredith walked around the perimeter of the glistening lake, she felt more relaxed than she had in weeks, for her future was all but assured. And so she could simply enjoy the day.

She turned and hiked up a gentle slope, where she could observe the picnic and the lake. Laying her paisley shawl on the dark green blades of grass, she sat down and turned her face upward to be warmed by the sun.

She lay on her back and amused herself by guessing which of the white-tufted clouds above might transform into a rabbit or a goose or some other fanciful shape as it moved across the rich cerulean sky.

She had just made out the lines of a horse, when someone passed between her and the sun, eclipsing it. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the dark silhouette of a large man.

Meredith jerked to a sitting position and cupped her hand to her brow in an attempt to discern his features.

“Why, Miss Merriweather,” came an astonishingly low, masculine voice. “Your aunts, who were so kind to invite me to join your picnic today, told me I might find you up here.”

“Lansing,”
came her yelp of a reply.

Oh no.

And the day had held such promise too.

She knew, though, that her aunts were only trying to help, and in their presence, she had vowed to do anything to expose the rake, hadn’t she?

Oh perdition!

Drawing in a fortifying breath, Meredith lifted her eyebrows and beamed at Lord Lansing, as if his arrival were a pleasant surprise.

She glanced surreptitiously at her reticule, wondering if she’d remembered to bring her miniature book of notes. No doubt she’d need it the very moment he left.

For there was no time like the present to begin. Besides, she had a question that needed answered: what made a rake advance and retreat?

Why, if a woman knew the answer, she could control the man to some extent, could she not?

First she’d have to lure him close. Simple enough, really. She probably wouldn’t even need to utter a word. Then an idea struck Meredith. What if she repelled him with her words, but invited him with her movements? Which cues would the rake read?

This was not going to be nearly as difficult as the other women were making it. They were just letting themselves fall under his spell.

And she wasn’t about to make that mistake.

And who knew, by nightfall, she might have another chapter for her guidebook.

———

Alexander sat down oh the grass next to her, perhaps just a mite too close for her ease, but she would suffer his proximity for the sake of her experiment

“Remember, you agreed at the musicale-----’Tis Alexander… or just Alex, if you prefer.”

“Very well…
Alex.
“ Her breath was coming fast and she knew she must slow it down if her body was to entice the rake to advance.

“Darling, I just love the way my name rolls off your pink tongue. Say it again. Slower this time.” The thin skin around his eyes crinkled with amusement.

Meredith fought back any display of enjoyment:
Repel him with your words.
“No, I do not think I will. Wouldn’t want to encourage the notion that speaking your Christian name is an invitation to… well, further familiarity.”
Well done. Now contradict those words with your body.
Meredith counted to three in her head, then reached out her fingers and patted the top of his hand, before snatching them back.

A delighted little smile burst upon the rake’s lips. “And simply speaking my name again would be wrong?”

Interesting.
He heard her words, responded to them, despite her touch. Could words be more powerful than… The thought burst from her mind as Alexander trailed his hand down her forearm and over the top of her fingers, making her tingle all over.

Test him again.
“Indeed, my lord, and well you know it. We’ve only shared the pleasure of each other’s company, oh, perhaps on three occasions. We are barely acquainted.” Meredith turned her face toward his and gazed deeply into his green eyes for several moments more than was appropriate.

Alexander worked his throat and swallowed deeply before responding.

That’s right, my lord. Let the rake come out and play. Stop fighting your nature,
she silently encouraged.

“Oh, I
know
you, darling.” His tone was as sweet and slow as clover honey. Still, he did not venture too far. Her touch, her movements, seemed to determine the pace of seduction.

Fancy that.
She
was in control of the situation. Here she was, with London’s most skilled rake, and yet she directed everything. Meredith felt almost giddy. La, the feeling of power was, well, rather exhilarating.

But then, Alexander’s gaze slid slowly over her body, and when his eyes finally met hers, he smiled wickedly, making her insides dance a little.

She wished he would not look at her that way. Suddenly she was strangely warm all over. At that moment, Meredith felt her command lurch from her grasp. Her heart pattered in her chest.

She had to be in control, or else her experiment would fail.

Straightening her back, Meredith sat up taller.
Stronger words. Use stronger words
. “And… there is my Mr. Chillton to consider.”

“Chillton?” Alex expelled a small laugh. “Why should Chillton object? You and I are merely new friends.” He gazed out over the water beyond. “A friend I value and do so enjoy talking with.”

“A friend?” Meredith had not anticipated this turn. Golly, she had to admit, she felt more than a little flattered. She leaned forward over her knees, trying to read his expression. “Truly, you think of me as
your friend?
“

———

As she waited almost breathlessly for his reply, Alexander pondered the truth of his avowal. And to his surprise, he realized that in all the years of speaking those exact words—for they instilled trust and tore down a woman’s defenses like no others in the English language—this was the first time he actually meant them. He did think of her as a friend.

Imagine that
, he speculated.

“I do.” He drew back his lips and smiled, feeling quite pleased that he did not have to revert back to his roguish ways and to lie to the woman. “You are a most amiable, intelligent and entertaining companion.”

As Alex looked into her teasing blue eyes and at the pleased little smile budding on her lips, he couldn’t help but notice that something seemed different. Somehow she seemed much more relaxed and happy this day.

“Well, Alexander, I honestly do not know what to say… except I like you quite well also.”

Alex glanced around. “Mr. Chillton isn’t here? If he is, I daresay I have seen nary a glimpse of the man.”

Miss Merriweather’s eyes darkened suddenly and she wrenched her hand away to tighten the strings of her reticule. “He is in Bristol, I believe… on important business.”

“Ah, I thought as much.”

She whipped her head around and faced him. “Did you? Why is that, my lord?”

Alex lifted a single brow. “Because your demeanor has changed. Until I mentioned his name, you were once again the Miss Merriweather I met at the stables in Hyde Park… more at ease.”

Her eyes went large and round. “Sir, I was certainly
not
a tease in Hyde Park!”

“I did not say a
tease
—I said
at
ease
… within your own skin.”

She laid the reticule on the grass beside her and pinned him with her gaze. “Just what, pray, do you mean by that?”

Alexander gave a small laugh. “You know, I think I’d rather not say. Might cause a bit of strife—and I do not need that.”

Miss Merriweather snatched up her reticule, then stood and quickly bent to swipe her paisley shawl from the ground. As she rose up again, her eyes flashed an imperious warning. “I’ll give you plenty of strife if you do not explain yourself, for I have the distinct impression that you have somehow insulted me.”

“Good Lord. No insult. Just an observation… which I will share with you in exchange for leave to address you as Meredith.” Alexander raised both brows and awaited her reply.

She stared at him, as if pondering the propriety of agreeing. “Fine. Call me Meredith—call me whatever you like… though not in the presence of others. Agreed?”

“Agreed, my darling
Meredith.
“

She gave her eyes an exasperated roll. “Now that I have given you what you asked, will you please explain your so-called
observation?
“

A grin twitched at Alexander’s mouth as he rose and offered Meredith his arm—which she begrudgingly took—for a stroll down to the sunlit lake at the bottom of the hill.

“It is not so great a secret, for I am sure others have made the very same observation as well.”

Meredith stopped walking. She yanked her hand from his coat sleeve and folded her arms across her delightfully low-cut bodice. “I have grown weary of your folly, Lansing. Tell me what you mean,
please.
“

“Very well.” He sucked in a breath, then cocked his head to better observe her shifting expressions. “When you are in the company of Mr. Chillton, you are not the headstrong, mischievous and adorable Meredith I first met.”

“I’m not?” Laughter burst from Meredith’s lips. “I daresay, this is a bold observation, since we are only new friends and you have only had the occasion to see Chillton and me together at my aunts’ musicale.”

“That one time was all I required. You were anxious and stiff. You acted as though you doubted your every move. And that girlish white frock you wore—heaven forbid.”

“You gleaned all of this from observing me for a few short hours?”

“I’ve always been a brilliant judge of people. I know when a person is pretending to be someone she is not.”

“Then who am I, Lansing, if I am not my natural self when I am in Chillton’s company?”

“I—I honestly don’t know.” Alexander looked deep into her eyes, attempting to make it clear that he was not playing some rakish game. “I do know that you are not the rigid, dreary, manner-cuffed miss I met at the musicale.”

By God, from the shocked pallor of Meredith’s face, one would think he’d gone and chucked her into the icy lake. This wasn’t going at all the way he planned. His intent was to charm her, woo her, make her want him—not to antagonize her. He sought to convince her that Mr. Chillton was not the right man for her. How the bloody hell had everything gone so wrong?

“Y-you know not of what you speak.”

“Argue all you like. Though you know in your heart, Meredith, that I speak the truth.”

———

Meredith broke away from Alexander and, taming her back to him, stalked down the earthen path bordering the lake. She walked only twenty paces, as haughtily as she could manage, then stopped and watched the dust she’d kicked up overtake her and swirl about her hem.

What was she doing?

She was supposed to be coaxing him into dropping his gentlemanly facade. Instead, she’d let him rile her… make her emotions flare.

Jupiter, his assessment of her was correct, wasn’t it? He was right. Otherwise, his words would not upset her so. This rake was too clever.
Damn him. Damn him to Hades.

Yes, she was different when with Chillton. The man demanded it… Well, all right, he
implied
that he expected better from her. It didn’t really matter how he delivered it, anyway, for she’d gotten the message just the same.

Meredith whirled around, just as Alex closed the gap between them. “What is so wrong with a certain amount of decorum and manners, will you tell me that?”

“Why, nothing, darling.”

“And will you please stop calling me
darling?
“

“No.”
Alexander caught her arm and turned her so they could step along the path again. “Please do allow me to finish. There is nothing wrong with decorum and manners. What I find fault with is changing the person you are simply to please another.”

“And you believe this is what I am doing?”

“I not only believe it, I know it to be the absolute truth.”

Something in the surety of his tone rankled Meredith to her very core. Who was he, after all, to lecture anyone about changing who they are—when he himself was attempting that very same feat! For he was a rake pretending to be a gentleman—she just wasn’t sure why he was doing it. Yet.

Granted, she couldn’t lob that contrary fact back at him, not without totally mining her own experiment.