How To Build The Perfect Rake (14 page)

‘Are you all right?’

‘Oh! Oh yes… perfectly all right, thank
you.’ Not. Not perfectly all right at all. Not in the least.

He gave her a doubtful look before turning
his eyes back to the water. Sure enough, moments later, a ball of
golden light burst across the velvety night sky, drawing gasps of
appreciation from the spectators. It was followed almost
immediately by a scarlet explosion and then a silver starburst,
turning the calm waters of the Serpentine into a river of
shimmering light until it slowly faded from the sky. Prinny did
love his grand exhibits and spared no expense when he organized
fireworks.

Olympia looked up at the
display but she did not really see it. Her thoughts were turned
inward, wondering if she had misunderstood something, somewhere.
For, unless she was much mistaken, she had been given a revelation.
It should not, perhaps, have come as such as a surprise,
considering their history but she had always assumed her love for
Lucien St James was that of friendship, nothing more. Whilst she
loved him, she never thought that she could be
in
love with him. Not with Luc. Her
best friend, her confidant, her co-conspirator when he could not
talk sense into her. She had always assumed love swept you up in a
whirl of madness and set you on fire. At least, that was what the
books – and one or two of her more emotionally inclined friends –
claimed. But then she remembered the fire that had ignited when he
had looked down at her with smoky blue eyes. They had promised her
delights, mysteries, wicked revelations and she had been completely
taken aback by her reaction.

Dear God above!

She
did
love Luc. She loved him so much
that the idea of him marrying somebody else made her feel a little
sick. Olympia released a breath she had not known she was holding
and stared at nothing in particular, wondering what she was going
to do about it. If there was anything she
could
do about it for, while Luc
obviously cared for her as a friend, he had never shown the
slightest interest in her as a woman. Why should he? She was
Olympia Grayson, the girl he had tried to best at tree climbing, or
riding or any number of other extremely tomboyish pursuits designed
to make a male look at a female as anything other than a future
wife. She was Ollie, good old Ollie, the girl he asked for advice
regarding
other
women.

Which was all well and good. But it was
going to break her heart when he married Carisse Houghton.

Luc was pleased that he’d had another
opportunity to intrigue Miss Houghton, thereby undoing some of
Jasper’s work. He really did like Olympia’s brothers but they could
be damned nuisances when the opposite sex were concerned. They were
magnets, all four of them. It was enough to put a fellow off his
game entirely.

Fortunately, he had positioned himself
rather well, knowing that the fireworks were going to start at a
given time. He had already determined Carisse’s position in the
crowd and had finagled his way forward so that he was quite close.
The dreadful Endymion was with her, along with Branson, his only
real competition. Still, Branson was no prize, looks wise and he
really did have a very unfortunate speech impediment. Luc was
confident that he would measure up to both men favorably.

Sure enough, when a ripple of expectation
passed through the crowd, Luc took the opportunity to move forward
and insinuate himself next to Miss Houghton, close enough to be
heard. ‘Miss Houghton. May I stand here?’

‘Mr. St James,’ she smiled, apparently
pleased to see him and a warm glow of satisfaction suffused his
chest. ‘Of course you may.’

‘Have you been enjoying yourself?’ It was
rather heavenly to be standing so close to a woman who, up until
ten days ago, he had only ever really seen across a crowded room.
As Lucien St James, amiable but unremarkable man about town, he had
been pleasant enough, if not particularly memorable. But as Lucien
St James, youthful young devil with a wicked eye for the ladies, he
had been transformed into somebody a girl like Carisse wished to
know.

It was little short of a miracle.

‘It’s been lovely. Don’t you think?’

‘Very entertaining.’ He
thought about saying that it wasn’t nearly as lovely as she was but
it sounded dreadfully hackneyed even to his ears. Howe had told him
that if he wanted to stand out, he needed to avoid telling a woman
exactly the same thing every other man told her. Easier said than
done but the default was to say nothing at all, a useful piece of
information as it tended to make a man seem interesting, even if he
was not. Women could not stand silence (this was a well known fact)
and silence usually prompted
them
initiating a conversation.

Up close, the perfection of Miss Houghton’s
creamy white skin became delightfully evident, along with the
glorious color of her golden hair. Up close, Carisse was even more
dazzling than she was from a distance and he felt his chest tighten
as he looked into her divine blue eyes. How could a creature such
as this be anything other than perfection? Kind, gentle, sweet
natured…

‘I had not realized that Miss Grayson had
any brothers,’ Carisse observed, after a moment.

‘Four, I believe.’ He did not want her to
dwell on Jasper. Damn Jasper.

‘Imagine that. She should have said. She’s a
funny thing, don’t you think?’

‘Funny? In what way?’ Olympia could be very
funny, upon occasion but he sensed that his idea of funny and Miss
Houghton’s would not jell.

‘Oh I don’t know,’ Carisse
shrugged vaguely, ‘she doesn’t seem to care for the things she
ought. Do you know, she doesn’t even
think
about her
freckles?’

Luc was taken aback. ‘Doesn’t she?’

‘No. Don’t you think that odd?’

‘Why is it odd? Why should she think about
her freckles?’ He was all at sea, having lost his footing in the
conversation. This was not the conversation he had been hoping for
when he had finessed this meeting.

Carisse looked astonished.
‘Why, because they’re
blemishes
! Very sad, of course but
you would think that she would try and get rid of them. Ass’ milk.
I told her it would help but she didn’t listen. I cannot imagine
how she will make a suitable match if she takes so little interest
in her appearance.’

Luc remained silent for several reasons. The
first was that he did not know what to say. He could not think why
Olympia should give a fig for her freckles although clearly, Miss
Houghton regarded them as a hideous disfigurement. And the second
was that he found himself wanting to defend his friend’s freckles
to his beloved, a ridiculous urge that was, never-the-less,
surprisingly strong. He had always liked Ollie’s freckles. They
were only a small spray across her nose and frankly, if he’d been
forced to offer an opinion then he would have said that he found
them charming. They were part of her, as much as her dark curls or
her twinkling brown eyes.

It was an absurd situation to find himself
in, wanting to protest about anything so silly. Surely Miss
Houghton was funning with him? A small, niggling doubt made itself
known somewhere in the region of his sternum, always a tricky place
to get a feeling of any kind. He knew that there was more to
Carisse Houghton than just her dazzling beauty, despite Olympia’s
comments to the contrary. Surely all he needed to do was dig a
little deeper. The problem was that, in the guise of a
ne’er-do-well it was difficult to ask the right kind of questions
to tease out the inner Carisse. He was supposed not to give a fig
about anything very much so questions about her taste in literature
or classical art were impossible. Clearly, he needed to spend a
little more time with his intended and he addressed himself to this
end.

‘Would you object to a morning call, Miss
Houghton?’ he murmured, aiming for that dark, slightly devilish
tone that usually got a girl’s attention. It was, of course,
apropos of nothing for they had not been talking about him paying a
visit but fortunately, Miss Houghton was more than happy to
accommodate this segue.

‘A morning call? Why… that would be very
nice.’

It was a word that dearest Carisse – and her
mother – used a great deal. Luc wondered why, if they cared for it
so much, they had not cared for the nice young man he used to be.
‘Excellent. I will call on you tomorrow.’ And he offered a bow
before turning and taking himself off.

Never give them too much, Howe had advised.
Even if you have the opportunity to linger in the company, exit
gracefully with an eye on a distant horizon. A female hates to be
left wanting more. He felt quite pleased with himself.

Having successfully
executed his plan to spend a little more private time in Miss
Houghton’s company, he decided to find Olympia so he could say
goodnight. There had been a rather strange, unfamiliar feeling
between them, which he had been unable to fathom. A tension, which
probably meant that she was still prickly about his recent
behavior. The evening had not gone exactly as he had hoped in that
respect, despite his resolution to set things right between them
and he wanted to have a word before he left, just to reassure her
that all was well. She was not far removed, as it happened but his
feet slowed to a stop when he realized that the tall, lanky figure
beside her did not belong to her brother Jasper. In fact, it was
the all too familiar figure of Lord Howe who had taken her a little
to one side – much as Luc had taken Carisse, minutes before – and
was now plying her delicate feminine susceptibilities with his
rubbish. Luc’s eyes narrowed at the sight and suddenly he was
moving forward again, with a great deal more determination in his
step. Olympia was most assuredly
not
grist for the renowned rake’s
mill although it occurred to Luc that she must appear perfect to
Howe, in terms of a marital target. When he and Howe had been away
together the man had confessed that he was looking for a wealthy
female to tie the knot with.

‘For I cannot out run the bailiffs forever,’
he had said heavily, knocking back yet another glassful of Luc’s
excellent wine, ‘I need a wife to see me straight.’

‘A wife?’ Luc had been incredulous.

‘Ay, and a rich one at that. Rich and
pretty,’ Howe had given his student a slow, cunning smile. ‘Much as
I don’t like to admit it, I’m getting to that dreaded stage in
life. Wedlock looms.’

Luc hadn’t really thought in terms of a rake
marrying but they did, of course. Most men had the desire to
continue their line, which meant an heir was required. And for men
like Howe, a wife would have to come with a sizeable dowry. He had
pitied the poor female the man’s attention fell on then but there
was no hint of pity in his breast when he saw the man making up to
Ollie, just out and out indignation.

She was pretty, she had a sizeable dowry and
she was on the marriage mart.

But he would run Howe through rather than
see Olympia married to a man like Lord Howe.

‘Olympia!’ he said, a little more loudly
than he had intended. Several heads turned, two of which were her
brother and her aunt who both moved in unison towards Miss
Grayson.

She jumped a little, turning a flushed face
towards him. Ha! Clearly Howe had been whispering all manner of
nonsense in her ear. Arriving at her side before either Jasper or
Florence Richmond, he laid a hand on Olympia’s sleeve. She looked
down at it, apparently in some confusion.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, sounding
breathless.

Breathless! ‘I was looking for you,’ he
said, catching Howe’s gaze. The black eyes glimmered with amusement
for a moment before he stepped back, melting away just as Jasper,
followed by a puzzled Aunt Flora, arrived.

‘Well… you found me,’ she muttered, edging
away from him a little.

‘Olympia?’ Jasper enquired, sounding a
little perplexed. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Yes! Oh yes, it’s fine. I’m just a little
tired. Do you think we could go home now?’

‘A capital idea,’ Luc said
firmly, glancing about. Howe would be very unlikely to put in an
appearance again tonight but at the first opportunity he would warn
Ollie about the man. Not that she didn’t already know but a loose
fish like that was both cunning
and
charming. She might
think
she knew what he was capable
of, but it probably wasn’t the case. He would call on her in the
morning and let her know the situation. Forewarned was forearmed;
he wondered if he should mention it to Jasper as well.

Jasper was eying his sister quizzically.
‘Certainly we can go home. Can you manage the walk back?’

This drew an exasperated look from Olympia.
Clearly she was not so overset by exhaustion that a comment like
this could go unnoticed. ‘I think I can manage.’

‘Are you all right?’ Luc demanded.

She gave him a look. It
was a peculiar look and not at all like the ones she usually gave
him. He didn’t recognize what it meant and he felt momentarily
disconcerted for he knew Olympia through and through. He
always
knew what a
speaking look from those brown eyes meant. It must have been
something Howe said.

‘Yes. I’m just tired. I will go home and go
to be and tomorrow…’ she paused, then drew a deep breath, ‘tomorrow
I shall be quite myself again.’

‘Shall I walk with you?’

‘I think Jasper and Aunt Flora should be
perfectly adequate. You stay and enjoy yourself.’

‘Oh. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.’