Read Rapturous Rakes Bundle Online
Authors: Georgina Devon Nicola Cornick Diane Gaston
could hear the low murmur of voices from behind the
closed door and when he flung it open without cere-
mony or even the courtesy of knocking, Rebecca’s
maid scuttered away like a terrified mouse.
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‘Lucas?’ Rebecca was sitting at her dressing-table.
She had already undressed for the night and was in a
silky peignoir of a deep plum colour that made her
hair look rich and coppery. Lucas looked at her. She
looked puzzled and innocent and very, very desirable.
His insides twisted.
‘Tell me about your brother,’ he said. He saw a
flicker of bewilderment cross her face—and saw the
tiny flicker of fear grow.
‘I have told you before—’ she began.
‘No, you have not,’ Lucas said. ‘Tell me about Dan-
iel De Lancey.’
Rebecca did not deny anything. She put down her
silver-backed hairbrush very slowly and met his eyes
in the mirror. ‘How did you find out?’ she asked.
‘Tom Bradshaw has a way of discovering these
things.’ Lucas had thought his feelings in turmoil, but
now he found that he was furiously angry. He gripped
her by the shoulder, forcing her to her feet. She
yielded with a little gasp.
‘Lucas—’
‘Were you ever going to tell me?’ Lucas demanded.
Her eyelashes flickered down. ‘I thought about it.’
‘And?’
‘And decided probably not. It was not my secret to
tell.’
Lucas’s hands tightened. ‘Do not give me that! This
has all been a huge conspiracy from the start, has it
not?’
Rebecca’s eyes widened with what appeared to be
genuine shock. ‘I do not know what you mean.’
‘Come now! Your uncle did the engraving for the
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Mistress
Midwinter spies,’ Lucas spat out. ‘Your brother is a
privateer, no doubt in the pay of the French. And
you—’
‘Yes?’ Her gaze defied him. ‘What about me?’
Lucas let her go with a gesture of repudiation. She
stumbled back and almost tripped over the stool. Her
vulnerability just made him all the more angry. ‘You
knew all along, and played me like a fool,’ he said.
‘Did I?’ Rebecca swept away with an angry swish.
‘How strange. I thought that it was
you
who deceived
me
in order to gain information from me rather than
the other way around.’
‘And, in fact, all along it was you who has deceived
me to
keep
information from me,’ Lucas countered.
‘So we are equal, sweetheart.’
Rebecca looked disdainful. ‘Oh, no, we are not, my
lord! The only reason I omitted to tell you about this
was to protect Daniel.’
Lucas strode across to the window, moving with a
repressed fury. She seemed so honest and yet he could
not be taken in by any more of her lies. Was it only
a half-hour before that he had realised he loved her?
It felt like a whole century.
‘Next you will be telling me that it is mere coinci-
dence that brings you here to Midwinter!’ he said bit-
terly.
‘No!’ Rebecca’s eyes flashed. She drew the peignoir
close about her throat and Lucas could see that her
hands were shaking. ‘It was you who brought me here
to Midwinter, Lord Lucas. I did everything in my
power to avoid it.’
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‘Because you did not wish to draw danger to De
Lancey?’
‘Exactly.’ Rebecca stood braced as a bow. ‘I am no
traitor who schemed with my brother in order to come
to Midwinter as part of our treasonable plan, my lord!
I told you from the start that I knew nothing of the
spies!’
Lucas spun around. ‘You told me some things and
neglected to tell me many others. Why should I be-
lieve you now?’
He saw Rebecca whiten though the look in her eyes
was still defiant. ‘So you do not trust me,’ she said.
‘You have not answered my question.’
In reply she came very close to him, so close that
he could smell the scent of jasmine on her skin and
see the pale violet shadows beneath her eyes.
‘You should believe me because I have done every-
thing I could to help you since I have been here,’ she
said.
It was not enough. Lucas held her gaze, his eyes
hard. ‘Have you been in contact with your brother
since you came to Midwinter?’
‘No!’ Rebecca’s expression was as clear and honest
as it always had been, but there was a spark of anger
burning in the depths of her eyes as she searched his
face.
Lucas broke away. He felt a white-hot anger for her,
but in some odd way he felt even more angry with
himself and out of the depths of his despair and his
misery he dragged the words.
‘I am wondering,’ he said, ‘just what you would
have been ready to do to keep me from the truth. You
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Mistress
invited me to bed with you. You even told me you
loved me. There were not many things that you were
not prepared to do, were there, Miss De Lancey?’
Rebecca turned so pale that he thought she would
faint and he instinctively put out a hand to steady her,
but she knocked it aside.
‘You disgust me, Lord Lucas,’ she said between
shut teeth. ‘Get out of my room. I never wish to see
or speak with you again.’
He went.
It took Rebecca ten minutes to dress again. She did
not call the maid. She had never needed one. Her first
inclination—to walk straight out of Kestrel Court,
never to return—had not withstood the obvious con-
clusion that the Kestrels would never let her go. There
was only one thing to do and that was to take the fight
to the enemy.
Even so, it took every ounce of her courage to go
down the stairs and knock on the door of the study.
There was the low murmur of voices from within but,
to Rebecca’s inexpressible relief, when the door
opened it was to reveal Justin Kestrel talking to a man
she had never seen before. Of Lucas there was no sign.
Rebecca felt almost faint to be granted such a respite.
She had only managed to get this far by blocking all
thoughts of Lucas and his final words from her mind,
and she knew that once she started to think of him she
would be completely lost.
‘Miss Raleigh.’ Justin Kestrel did not seem partic-
ularly surprised to see her. He turned to the man at
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his side. ‘Thank you, Bradshaw. We shall speak
again.’
‘Your Grace.’ The man gave Rebecca an unmistak-
ably curious glance as he went out. Justin gestured
Rebecca to a seat.
‘Were you looking for Lucas, Miss Raleigh?’
‘No!’ Rebecca said. She gulped a steadying breath.
‘I wished to speak to you, your Grace.’
Justin gave her a flicker of a smile. ‘Then may I
offer you a glass of brandy? You are looking some-
what shaken.’
Rebecca accepted and sat down a little abruptly in
the chair that Bradshaw had vacated. Justin did not
speak whilst he poured for her and topped up his own
glass. When she took it from him she was surprised
to see that she was trembling. She took a grateful sip
and felt the brandy warm through her limbs, strength-
ening her. She gave a little sigh. ‘That is good.’
‘It should be,’ Justin said. ‘Your brother runs it.’
Rebecca almost choked. She put the glass down.
‘Your Grace—’
‘Miss Raleigh?’ Justin was not making it easy for
her but then, Rebecca acknowledged wryly, why
should he? She was the one who had some explaining
to do. She sat up a little straighter.
‘I came to tell you that it is true that I am Rebecca
De Lancey,’ she said. ‘I know that there must be a
connection between the Midwinter spies and my un-
cle’s work, but I swear to you that I am not that link.
Everything that I have told you is true. I am no traitor
and—’ her voice warmed ‘—I cannot believe that
Daniel is in the pay of the French either.’
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The
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Mistress
Justin Kestrel let that one go. His face was grave.
‘I cannot offer an opinion on your brother, of course,
but I must tell you, Miss Raleigh, that I never imag-
ined that you were playing us false. Anyone who
knows you at all well should surely realise that you
are no spy.’
Rebecca stared. ‘But I thought... Lord Lucas as-
sumed...’
‘Ah, Lucas,’ Justin said. He smiled at her. ‘Lucas
always was impulsive and I am afraid...’ he sighed
‘...that he is also labouring under strong emotion,
which is never conducive to making a man see
clearly.’
Rebecca bit her lip. Honesty prompted her to admit
that Lucas’s reaction was scarcely surprising, although
the intensity of his anger had stunned her and the cru-
elty of his words hurt her deeply.
‘I concede that the facts looked damning against
me,’ she said with a little shiver. ‘I cannot explain the
connection between the Midwinter spies and my uncle,
other than to repeat that it is nothing to do with me.’
‘The facts do indeed look damning,’ Justin agreed,
with the ghost of a smile. ‘Lucas was angry and dis-
illusioned to learn the truth, Miss Raleigh, but he may
realise his mistake if you grant him a little time.’
‘There is no more time for us,’ Rebecca said
bleakly. ‘Lord Lucas and I never could quite trust one
another sufficiently to make matters work and now we
never shall. I wish to go back to London immediately,
your Grace.’
Justin nodded slowly. ‘A pity, but I understand your
sentiments. If that is what you desire then it shall be
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so. However, I must ask you to wait a couple of days
more, Miss Raleigh.’ He saw her instinctive gesture of
denial and went on, ‘We move against Norton and
Lady Benedict the day after tomorrow. We cannot risk
any change of plan before then or it may alert suspi-
cion. After that, you are free to return home whenever
you wish.’
Rebecca stood up. She knew that it was the best she
could hope for and that under the circumstances Justin
was being more than generous. It was only the inevi-
tability of seeing Lucas again that made her heart ache
so fiercely she was not sure she could bear it. Between
them they had destroyed all the fragile trust that had
grown up against the odds, and they had hurt each
other beyond measure. She bore the responsibility for
that as much as Lucas, for although he had deceived
her first, she had never trusted him sufficiently to tell
him the truth about Daniel, and now it would never
be possible to gain his love.
Chapter
Eleven
It was odd to behave as though everything were as
normal and yet to know that everything had in fact
changed. Rebecca had been tempted to remain in her
room for the whole of the following day, but she hated
to be confined; she had also agreed to go shopping in
Woodbridge with Rachel Newlyn. Lucas and Cory
were to accompany them, but Lucas elected to ride
and did not acknowledge Rebecca’s presence with
more than a nod when they met in the hall. There was
not another look or a word or a touch that passed
between them. Rebecca knew that Rachel had noted
this new coldness, but fortunately she asked no ques-
tions, and when the carriage rolled into Woodbridge
and the gentlemen went off to the gunsmith’s, Rachel
headed towards the bookseller’s and Rebecca pleaded
a headache and told her friend she would await her on
the quay, where she hoped that the fresh sea air might
help quell the blue devils.
It was a misty morning and the sea fret hung about
the boats, muffling sound and casting a grey pall
across the water. The quay seemed quiet but for the
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scrape and hammer coming from the shipwright’s
yard. An old man was sitting in a wildfowling boat,
sorting methodically through nets and floats and whis-
tling soundlessly through his teeth as he did so. He