Redeeming a Rake (9 page)

Dear Geoffrey,

I’m so pleased to hear from you. I was
starting to think you were a figment of my imagination. I blame
your pale blue eyes; you do have pale blue eyes don’t you? I didn’t
imagine them? The one note you’d sent me (my one tangible proof
that you were real) disappeared from my desk leaving me to rely on
my memory which isn’t always reliable. I can’t imagine the Duke of
Lyndhurst haunting my local gaslight. I can see the papers now…Duke
thrown into gaol for lurking. It would be an excuse to see you, but
I don’t recommend gaol as a place to ponder anyone’s health. I
assure you I’m not suffering from any plagues, agues or distempers.
That should punish you for eavesdropping, but it’s very kind of you
to worry. I’m just relieved to hear that you’re sleeping through
the night. At the risk of sounding like a nanny (and receiving a
well deserved reprimand) I hope you’re taking time to eat three
separate meals a day and not eating three meals at one sitting. You
don’t want to die of starvation before you’ve made restitution and
I’d miss you.

As for the people on the list, it doesn’t
matter if they think you’re the devil incarnate. It only matters
that you do the right thing. My prayers go with you. Please write
and let me know if there is anything I can do to help.

Sincerely your friend,

Tolerance

Geoffrey didn’t know he was smiling, but he
could feel his tension ease away into the straw. He reread the
heart-warming words until the light faded forcing him to fold the
letter and tuck it into a trouser pocket. There was nothing left to
do, but close his eyes and imagine his friend lying beside him. Had
she really written that she’d miss him if he died? He was too tired
to get up and shout for a candle. He’d have to wait till morning. A
ragged sigh escaped his lips as he turned onto his side. The
emptiness of his arms left him aching for his angel until
exhaustion spared him the horror of trying to think what he’d do if
he couldn’t persuade her to be his Duchess.

Falling asleep he waded through nonsensical
scenes until he fell off into nothingness. Opening his eyes he
found himself standing under a sunny blue sky next to a weathered
wooden gate that swung open with the slightest touch. Inhaling the
sweet scent of grass and clipped yew he followed the curving path
until it opened into a vista of strange flowers and plants, but his
eyes were pulled past the plants to the woman in white lying in the
grass. Her skirts entangled around crossed ankles, her hands were
propped under her neck as she calmly contemplated the sky. His bare
feet made only a slight sound, barely audible over the birdsong.
Stoping just out of her vision he watched her chest rise and fall
until the need to be a part of her world made him speak. “Hello
Sunshine!”

Her head jerked in his direction as if
shocked to see him. “Geoffrey?” Her warm smile was all the
encouragement he needed. Dropping down next to her, his toes curled
in ecstasy as the woman he wanted looked up at him with pleasure.
“I’m glad you’ve come…I’ve never seen you in trousers.”

Geoffrey looked down at his legs in
surprise. “Odd. I never wear them. I think they make me look…” he
shot a bashful look at his smiling companion. “…inordinately
thin.”

“You look healthier than the last time I saw
you.”

The admiration in her eyes made him feel
elated. “I’ve been eating three meals a day. It gives me three
separate occasions a day when I can think of you without fear of
falling off my horse and breaking my neck.”

“Now you’re making me blush in my dreams.
You shouldn’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I know I’ve never seen an angel lying in
the grass.” Geoffrey laughed as Tolerance yanked up a handful of
grass and threw it in his face. He leaned closer and fingered the
nearest tendril of white blonde hair draping the grass. “Show me
the garden…”

“Demanding Duke, this is my dream. What do
you think that cloud looks like?”

“No, this is my dream and I want to kiss you
behind those trees in the far corner where no one will see us. With
my luck, if I try to kiss you here a convent of nuns will come
rushing in to have a picnic.”

“You’re the first person I’ve seen in days
and I never said you could kiss me.”

“I don’t need your permission in my dream.
Kiss me over there or I’ll kiss you here.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Geoffrey leaned over to make good his
threat, but she rolled away and stood up. “Don’t be heartless
Sunshine…”

“You said you wanted to see the garden.”
Geoffrey reluctantly got to his feet. “I’m surprised an ageing
rake-hell can care about something so seemly as flowers…”

“Ageing rake-hell? I’m not old!”

The angel smiled as if he wasn’t mortified.
“Then catch me if you can!” Snatching up her skirts she ran off
towards the far end of the garden and disappeared behind a giant
yew tree. Geoffrey hadn’t literally chased a female since he was a
lad. It took him several long seconds to realise she was inviting
him to kiss her. Jumping to his feet he ran after feeling fit
enough to run for miles. He nearly caught her several times, but
she slipped out of reach and ran on. It seemed an eternity before
she collapsed in laughter on the bench under the willow and he sat
down beside her in triumph. “What did you think of the garden my
Lord?”

Geoffrey slid an arm along the back of the
bench and leant close enough to inhale the scent of her cheek. “It
was breathtaking and I believe I won.”

“Won what?”

“You know exactly what.” She stretched out
her legs and tipped her head back, resting it against his arm. “I
think you want me to kiss you.”

“Do I?” She took hold of his long hair
wrapped in a white queue and gently pulled his face closer. “Has
anyone ever told you that your eyes are like the sky on a perfect
day? Who could resist a perfect day?” He lightly touched her leg as
she leaned into his arms. Her lips were a hair’s breadth away when
he felt himself being pulled away from distraught eyes and out of
the garden. “Geoffrey!” Her call was in vain as the garden faded
into darkness and then he was blinking in pain at a blinding
light.

Opening his eyes, he found sunlight pouring
in through the open window. He was back in his wretched aching body
of flesh and bone. Tenderly stretching his arms and legs; he smiled
as he remembered the dream garden and the angel’s adoring smile.
For the first time in years he felt refreshed, but he didn’t want
to be awake. He wanted to be in the dream garden kissing his
angel’s waiting lips. He lay there oblivious to the physical
discomfort caused by sleeping fully clothed and tried to mentally
capture the dream. He could still feel the weight of his angel’s
head resting against his arm as she looked at him as if he was
somehow worthy of her. His innocent thoughts were no barrier to the
physical need that flooded his senses with force. Clenching his
teeth he rolled off the bed to escape its emptiness and blindly
lurched to the window. Gulping cool morning air, he was suddenly
aware of birds celebrating the early sunlight creating endless
shades of green as it drank up the morning dew. Geoffrey leaned
against the open shutter and watched the world awake while
pretending his Sunshine was fast asleep on the bed behind him until
his stomach insisted it was time to eat.

Tolerance woke up feeling unsatisfied again.
Since the dream Geoffrey’s first night in the garden he hadn’t
tried to kiss her. After several weeks, she wasn’t sure what to
think. She’d often turn to find him watching her with a shy boyish
smile that would gooseflesh her arms and legs, but he hadn’t even
tried to kiss her hand. After a night in the dream garden the
waking world had more life, but each day seemed to last a thousand
hours before she could crawl into bed and pray she’d soon find
herself standing in front of the wooden gate wearing the long white
dress.

A week later the dream started out like all
the others. The wooden gate creaked open, the grass was soft
underfoot and the birds were singing. Stepping out of the clipped
yew tunnel into the full sunlight she sighed in relief as she
looked across to see her friend sitting under the willow waiting
for her, but his profile was scowling as the visible one eye
swivelled to look at her. “Where have you been?” The angry roar
made the birds fall silent in shock. “This is my dream and I
shouldn’t have to sit here alone waiting hours to see you.”
Avoiding her gaze, he turned away, but not before she’d seen a
glimpse of bruising.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“It’s bruised.”

“Have you been brawling with some Innkeeper
over his bill?”

“At my age?” The words were bitter.

“Are you now preparing to live in a
bath-chair?”

“You could offer some sympathy. I had an
interview this morning. The reinstated heir expressed his gratitude
for my largesse by punching me. When I refused to return the blow
he called me a coward and hit me again. I could have wrung his neck
with my bare hands. I’m no coward!” Pain filled eyes swung back
towards her. “He said if I wasn’t in my dotage he’d have called me
out for ruining his family’s honour…as if his family ever had any
honour to ruin, the trumped up snivelling little worm.”

“I wouldn’t have said you were in your
dotage.” His head snapped towards her, the anger fading on seeing
her smile.

“I’m thirty-seven not seventy-seven and I’m
in no mood to be teased about looking half-dead.”

“You don’t look half-dead to me Geoffrey.
Your colouring is much improved and you look like you’ve been
eating. I think…” She cast an admiring glance over his person. “…I
think you’re looking very much alive.”

“She admits it; she finds me
attractive.”

“I didn’t say that…”

“Your delicious pink cheeks give you away.”
The humiliations of the day were forgotten as his eyes glinted with
that boyish smile tinged with longing. “One of these days you’re
going to wake up and find you’re wrapped so tight around my finger
you won’t be able to imagine life without me.”

“Did you want to talk about the
interview?”

“Changing the subject won’t help you
Sunshine. One day you’ll be mine.”

What would he do if he knew the day had
already come and gone? She sat down beside him and leaned against
him. “I’m proud of you Geoffrey, but you don’t need to let people
hurt you.”

“I was on one knee. It’s not a position
conducive to self-defence.”

“You walked out of that room the better man.
Besides, I don’t think thirty-seven is very old.”

“You don’t?” His voice sounded hopeful as
Tolerance jumped up and looked down, her eyes gleaming with
mischief.

“No, but thirty-eight sounds positively
ancient.”

She backed away laughing at his exaggerated
expression of offence. “Do you know what I’m going to do when I
catch you?”

“If you can catch me you’ll do what?”

“I’m going to demonstrate just how young my
lips are…” He was on his feet and running after her. When they were
pulled out of the dream garden back into the real world they were
both laughing as they opened their eyes to meet the morning
sunlight, but several days later Tolerance received a letter from
her friend reminding her that the bruises on her dream Geoffrey’s
face were still healing.

My dear tolerant friend,

How I wish you were sitting across from me.
I wouldn’t have to fend off murderous inclinations with pen and
paper, these vexing instruments of torture. I’ve already snapped
two quills. I’d much rather have your kind ear to bend, but no,
perhaps it’s better this way. In my present mood I would not be a
suitable companion for an angel. The latest reinstated heir didn’t
find my charity in any way agreeable. I’m so angry I can barely see
straight, but you’ll be pleased to know that I didn’t kill the
ungrateful worm. The young jackanapes sneered at my offering of one
year’s income in cash on top of the deeds to his father’s gambled
estate as if they were his due and then had the nerve to ask me if
I’d spent the previous seven years income on…something not fit for
your lovely eyes to read, blast his impudence. I didn’t have to
give the property back to the family. The least he could do was
keep his mouth shut. Forgive me dearest friend for ranting.
Normally I’d have called him out. I find it inexplicably irritating
to know that if I killed the worm the ache in my chest would not
only become unbearable, but that you’d… The worm has no idea how
much he owes you. I hope the next one won’t be so blasted hateful.
I haven’t felt so humiliated since I learned my Father had
convinced the surrounding shires that I was mentally unsound. I’d
been looking forward to being allowed to call on certain young
lady. Oddly, after twenty years I still crave the same thing only
this time the lady is an angel instead of a snotty self important
hussy.

I may return to London for a few weeks and
vent my spleen in a more constructive manner. There are a few rooms
I need to refresh in The Ancient House, my bachelor abode. You may
not see me, but I hope to catch a glimpse of you enjoying the
remains of the summer. I promise I won’t alarm your neighbours by
skulking in the evening shadows, no matter how tempting.

I hope you’ll forgive my impudent hypocrisy,
but I pray you’ll be cautious of whom you allow into your home or
who you agree to dance with. Some of the vilest men have the purest
reputations. I’d give you a list of malefactors only my name would
come at the top. Now I feel even worse. I wish you were here or I
was there, however, I am sincerely grateful that I can write this
letter and know that you’ll still be my friend after reading
it.

Sincerely your most obedient servant,