A Lady's Guide to Rakes (27 page)

A drop patted the top of her head, then another slapped her cheekbone. Meredith leaned back and looked up at the blackened sky and the slants of rain coming down as the balloon violently tugged and twisted against its tethers.

Fat drops of rain beat at her chest, sending rivulets coursing between her breasts. Bending toward her, Alexander ran his hand along the mounds of her breasts. The warmth of his palm against the coolness of her wet skin sent goose bumps across her chest.

He took the low neck of her damp gown, catching the chemise between his fingers at the same time, then dragged the fabric down, fully exposing her breasts to him. He glanced up into Meredith’s eyes, then lowered his mouth and took her nipples, hardened by the cool rain and need for him, one into his mouth, the other between his hot fingers. He sucked on one, and squeezed the other gently. It hurt a little, but in a way that only made her want him more.

Meredith moaned, but the sound was muted by the growl of the sky and pounding of the rain. At that moment, Alexander grabbed her hand and pressed it against the straining fabric between his legs. A little jolt made her tremble as she felt the hardness of flesh beneath her hand.

Then the basket jerked. The handlers were pulling it down.

“Alex, the balloon—”

“At this rate, we’ll be on the ground in ten minutes.”

Meredith looked into Alexander’s eyes and saw his were searching hers as well. She answered the question she saw there with a deep hiss.
Ten minutes.

As their tongues swirled together, Meredith hurriedly fumbled with Alexander’s wet buttons.

He shoved her hand away and tore up his buttons, then guided Meredith’s unsure hand inside.

He pushed his hips forward as she tightly gripped the hard smoothness of him. He closed his eyes, for but a moment, and sucked in gulps of moist air as she moved her hand up and down the now rain-slickened length of him.

The basket lurched again, and now, just above the rail lip, Meredith could see the uppermost leaves of the writhing treetops. She looked frantically at Alexander. With a look of determination, he forcefully grasped her hips and lifted her spread thighs over him.

Meredith pulled her skirt and chemise toward her waist as he positioned her above him. She felt the heat of his tip teasing her, dipping just barely inside her. They hadn’t time for this. The balloon was coming down, and so was she.

Meredith slapped splayed hands to Alexander’s chest; she pressed down and took him folly inside her. If it was possible, she felt him grow inside her. She wriggled for position as she rose a bit on her knees, then thrust down atop him again.

It took her a moment to find her pace as she moved against him, but Alexander held her hips firm and met her, thrust for thrust.

Suddenly she felt one of his large hands release her, and then, starting at her knee, slide along her inner thigh until he found the tiny sensitive nub between her legs. With his thumb, he circled the bit of flesh as she rode him, while he pushed deep into her.

Meredith looked down at Alexander and he nodded reassuringly; her confidence grew.

He reached his other hand upward then and pulled her closer. His mouth closed over her nipple and he began to thrust harder into her. Meredith began to tremble, and each breath became a gasp.

The basket lurched to the side again, knocking Alexander’s mouth from her. Then the balloon dropped several feet, lifting Meredith’s knees from the floor for an instant, then slamming her down on top of Alexander again, face-to-face.

Her head was spinning, her body throbbing madly as she looked up through the driving rain and saw the lower canopy of the trees beyond.

She turned her gaze back to Alexander as she lay straddled over him, her weight barely supported by her hands, while their bodies thrummed and pumped together.

Suddenly a sensation, like a crash of lightning, ripped through Meredith and she cried out as Alexander caught her hips and thrust furiously into her, again and again.

Then a wave of wet heat pulsed inside her, and Alexander squeezed his eyes tight and inhaled sharply. When he opened his eyes again, he smiled as he pushed his fingers through her tangled, wet hair and kissed the rain tenderly from Meredith’s face.

“I love you, Meredith,” he said softly.

Meredith’s eyes widened. She sat upright on his hips. “But rakes
never
say that! It’s one of the primary tenets of… of rakehood.”

“Then need you any more proof that I have reformed?” Alexander propped himself up on his elbows and looked directly into her eyes. “I love you.”

“Just another few feet and we’ll have you down, all safelike,” the Irishman yelled up from a distance not too far beneath the balloon. “Don’t you worry none, my lord!”

Meredith stared at Alexander for another moment, then lifted up from Alexander and sat in the comer of the basket, hurrying to straighten her clothing.

Lord above, what am I to do now?

———

They didn’t talk on the short ride back to Hanover Square—or rather, Meredith didn’t utter a word. Alexander, on the other hand, had tried out a number of arguments for Meredith’s jilting of Chillton and marrying him, instead.

Meredith just rested her dripping elbows on her sopping knees and peered out the carriage door window as the horses clopped their way into Mayfair.

She could not jilt Chillton. Yes, she might have been hurt and therefore accepted his proposal rashly, but she could not cry off. Why, it was against everything she believed in.

She would not destroy another’s self-worth, the way hers had been. Meredith knew she was better than that.

Without moving her head, her gaze sought out Alex and she felt a tug at her heart—for she didn’t love Chillton. She loved Alexander—a man who loved her too… So much did he love her, he was willing to give up everything just to be with her.

Tears budded in her eyes and trickled down her cheek.

Alexander sat bolt upright on the bench. He laid his hand on her knee. “Are you crying?”

Meredith exhaled a false laugh. “Certainly not.” She pushed a damp lock of hair from her face. “My hair is wet and dripping. I am perfectly fine.”

Alexander looked doubtful. Concern was plain in his eyes.

“
Really
, I am,” Meredith chirped.

What a terrible liar she was.

———

The carriage entered Hanover Square a mere two minutes later, much to Meredith’s great relief.

When the footman opened the door, and Alexander made to get up, Meredith thrust out her hand and slammed it to his chest, stopping him.

Alexander’s fingers folded around her wrist. “I am going with you. We need to explain to your aunts—” Alexander protested.

“No,
please
.” She released the pressure against his chest and looked up at him. He opened his hand and she pulled her arm back. “I am more than capable of explaining everything on my own. We were caught in a shower, ‘tis all. Nothing more.”

Alexander’s eyebrows migrated toward the bridge of his nose, making him look dreadfully stern. “ ‘Tis not the dampness of your gown I wish to help you explain.”

“I know.” Meredith lowered her head, then slowly raised it to look at him again. Her lower lip quivered and she drew in a shaky breath. “It is too late for us, Alex. I am promised to another. And you… you will lose everything you hold dear if you defy your father and marry me.”

“I don’t care.” Unlike her own, Alexander’s voice was sure and steady.

“I know, my love.” Her voice broke. “But I do.” Meredith stood as best she could inside the carriage, then leaned toward Alexander and lightly kissed him.

“Meredith,” he breathed. “Marry me—”

She touched the four fingers of her shaking right hand to his lips. “Shhh. Let me go.
Please.
“

Turning quickly then, she ducked through the open carriage door and hurried down the steps.

Clutching her wet skirt in her left hand, she raced up to the front door and, thankfully finding it unlocked, rushed inside. She pressed the door closed behind her, then threw her back against it and squeezed her eyelids tight. Unbearable pain filled her heaving chest and a loud sob burst through her lips.

“Dear me, Meredith. What is wrong?” came a horribly familiar voice.

She wrenched her head around and opened her tear-filled eyes, at once wishing she hadn’t. For there was Beth Augustine standing with her aunts just inside the parlor door.

Once a rake, always a rake.

As Beth Augustine’s dark-eyed gaze, brutally patronizing and pitying, met her own, fury scalded away all remnants of pain inside Meredith.

“You stole my book of notes.” Meredith pinned Beth with a look as sharp as a finely honed blade. “You sent it to the Earl of Harford.”

Rounding her mouth, Beth gave a fair approximation of astonishment. “I have no inkling of what you are on about, Meredith.”

“Yes, you do.” Meredith wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “And you will be happy to know that your plan worked brilliantly. Hats off to you, Beth.” She whirled her hand in the air, then bent briefly into a mock bow.

“Meredith, I—I can see that you are distraught, but on my honor, I do not know what you mean.”

“On
your
honor?” Meredith scoffed.

“Dear, you and Mrs. Augustine have been due to have a conversation for years now,” Aunt Viola began, “and though this mightn’t be the most opportune time, it is nevertheless the time that has chosen you.”

Meredith stood dumbfounded as both her aunts came to her and kissed either cheek, then started for the library.

Aunt Letitia turned back for an instant and raised a single finger. “Just send for us if you are in need.” When Meredith nodded, her aunt smiled. “That’s our strong gel. I’ll just send Mrs. Penny with some nice, hot tea.”

“Well?” Meredith straightened her back and gestured for Beth to follow her back into the parlor.

“I do not know what your aunts mean. I have nothing to discuss with you.” To Meredith’s surprise, Beth actually looked confused.

“You mightn’t, but I do. I have quite a lot to say to you, as a matter of fact.”

Beth followed Meredith to one of the two chairs situated on either side of the hearth, which had been set to a low burn to stave off the chill from the rainstorm.

As the rain hammered against the tall parlor windows, Meredith, oblivious to her dripping wet condition, recounted her years of emotional torture at Beth’s hand at Miss Belbury’s School for Girls. And then, how Beth had ridiculed her when she had been left at the altar.

Beth did not try to argue her innocence, which greatly amazed Meredith, but instead sat silently listening, seemingly astonished by every word spoken.

The door opened just then, shattering the tension that pervaded the parlor, and both women looked up.

“Don’t mind me,” quipped Annie. “Don’t mean to disturb you none, but I brought a dressing robe for Miss Meredith so she don’t catch her death.” Annie held the heavy brocade up. “Will you stand for me, Miss Meredith?”

Meredith knew she should not say another word until Annie, sower of house gossip, had left the room, but she knew too that if she quieted now, she’d never summon the courage to do this again.

“And now”—Meredith pulled air into her lungs to better propel her next words into Beth’s face—”you deliver my private book of notes to the Earl of Harford! My life will never be the same again. Why did you do it? Why?”

Beth’s eyes rounded like two drops of India ink. “I never!”

Annie turned her head and gave a dismissive glance to Mrs. Augustine. “Yes, you did. Saw you with my own eyes. You took it, all right.”

“What?” Meredith gasped. “You saw her take it?”

“Oh yes.”

“H-how can you believe a… a maid over me, Meredith?” Beth stammered.

“Oh, it weren’t just me,” Annie added almost casually. “One of the guests that night saw you do it too, Mrs. Augustine. It was that widow woman. You know, the one with all the smiling dead husbands.”

Beth sat very still. She dropped her big black eyes to her fingers, which were twisting nervously in her lap.

“Beth?” Meredith said as Annie fastened the dressing gown around her.

“I’ll leave you alone now—” Annie started from the parlor.

“No! Stay here, Annie,” Meredith boomed. Then, slightly embarrassed, she softened her voice.
“Please.”
Beth was quick with her words and Meredith knew she might require Annie’s proof in more detail.

Beth raised her gaze. “All right. I did it. I admit it. Are you pleased that you’ve finally pinned me?”

“No, I’m not.” Meredith slowly lowered herself in her chair. “I only want to know why… why you feel a need to hurt me. I’ve never done anything to you. I—I only ever wanted to be your friend.”

Tears suddenly glistened in Beth’s eyes. “In school, you were always so pretty. People like pretty things. Poor, lovely Meredith never had to earn praise, attention or friendship—it was always just given to her. But I—I had to work hard for everything. Always had to. It was unfair.”

“I never—” Meredith began, but Beth raised a silencing hand.

“You wanted to know.” Beth reached out for her teacup and brought it to her lips as she leaned back hi her chair. “And as we grew older, and left school, it never changed. I was in love with Lord Pomeroy, did you know that?”

Meredith shook her head.

“He loved me too—that is, until you showed him favor.” She settled her teacup back on the table, then shrugged and gave a little laugh. “Why should a titled gentleman pay me any mind when a flaming-haired siren called to him?”

“I didn’t know.” Meredith rose and knelt before Beth. “He left me at the altar. He ruined me, Beth. And had it not been me, it would have been you. I am sure of it.” She tenderly took Beth’s hand into her own and squeezed it gently. “He never really wanted either of us. He only wanted money to refill his empty family coffers.”

Beth looked into Meredith’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“When I could not break from my despair, my great-aunts shared some information that they had acquired from a runner they’d hired. It now seems, you and I were only two of several young ladies Pomeroy promised a ring of gold—all in his quest for money.”