Seducing the Rake (Mad, Bad and Dangerous Heroes) (9 page)

Chessy’s lips pressed to a hard line. Morland swung down the hall to the right.

Blast the man, could he read her mind too? Chessy’s cheeks colored. If he really could read her mind, then he would know the rest of what she was thinking.

And that was how solid he felt, how her skin burned where his thigh brushed her hips.

How much she wanted to feel that warmth in other places …

With a ragged sound somewhere between a sob and a curse, Chessy raised her chin and glared up at the man who was carrying her so carefully in his arms.

Sweet heaven, why did it have to be
him
? Didn’t he know what he’d done to her when he left Macao ten years before without a farewell or a handshake?

No, she wasn’t about to have old wounds reopened. She had to make the man leave and leave now. Otherwise—

Morland’s boots scraped against wood. “Here we are. The salon, I believe.”

Chessy was lowered against the threadbare cushions of a shabby chintz settee in what her landlord had optimistically termed the Blue Salon.

She scowled at the streaked, faded wallpaper. At one time it might have been a pale ultramarine. Now it was the dismal color of a winter sky reflected in a muddy pool.

Back in Macao her walls had been hung with peach silk. The windows had been bordered with silk curtains of swaying bamboo and darting goldfish.

Chessy caught herself angrily.
Don’t think about it. If you don’t find your father, you can’t go back anyway.

Morland’s thigh brushed her hip.

Instantly she went rigid. With wary eyes she watched him reach over her for the blanket resting on the back of the settee.

Suddenly she was aware of heat—and sharpest cold. Of the vivid softness of the cushions—and the tense, corded strength of Morland’s thigh.

Of the acute, heart-stopping
nearness
of him.

Her mouth went dry as she watched him shake out the blanket, then settle it smoothly over her motionless form.

Then, oddly enough, he simply looked at her. His jaw hard, he studied her body, every curve and hollow outlined beneath the light wool covering. Chessy could have sworn she saw his hand rise, only to clench and drop back to his side a moment later.

Could it be that he, too, held memories of that summer? That sometimes he felt regret for the way things had turned out?

Dreamer!
Chessy cursed her stubborn, reckless imagination. She knew a great deal more of the world now than she had then.

She would not be fooled again.

Her eyes narrowed as the earl settled his long frame lazily in the wing chair beside the settee. “I’m waiting, Chessy.”

“And you can bloody well go
on
waiting, your lordship.”

His booted foot swung idly. “My, my. One would think that London didn’t agree with you.”

“It
doesn’t.
”

“I shouldn’t wonder at it, if you persist in going about dressed in that outlandish costume.”

Chessy’s cheeks flamed anew. “What’s wrong with this outfit? It is perfectly functional—and comfortable to boot. Which is a great deal more than the scandalous dresses I’ve seen
your
society women wearing about on the street!”

Morland’s brow arched. “Oh, not
my
women, certainly. I always see that they are properly dressed. In public, at least.”

Chessy bit down an angry retort. He was just trying to goad her!

With that thought in mind, she lowered her eyelids and shot Morland a smile that would have made
crème brûlée
taste bland in comparison. “So sorry to offend your refined sensibilities, my lord. Of course I wouldn’t
dream
of detaining you any longer. It must be excruciating to be in the presence of such a
boorish
rustic like myself.” 

Morland’s boot continued to swing slowly.

“Leave, damn you!”

“Out of the question, my dear. Not before I have answers.”

“Very well, since you show absolutely no sign of behaving as a gentleman ought, I see I shall have to call—”

A knock came from the doorway. A ruddy manservant in outdated livery appeared. “Feeling better, are you, miss? Right good thing the earl was on hand to catch you. Sheet-white, you was, and him lifting you like a bit of cotton fluff. Carried you straight up, he did, which was very civil-like, if you ask me.”

“I did
not
ask you, Swithin,” Chessy muttered. “Now throw the man out, if you please.”

“Throw him—” The servant’s eyes widened. “But why would I want to do a bird-brained thing like that, Miss Chessy?”

“Because I’m
ordering
you to, that’s why! And don’t be fooled by the man’s smooth manner. He’s a liar, a cheat, and the worst sort of rake!”

Swithin’s broad brow furrowed. “Is that a fact? Never would have thought it to look at him. Dresses well enough. And that’s one prime set of cattle waiting out in the street.” He scratched his head. “I reckon you’re sure about that, Miss Chessy? About him being a liar and a cheat and all?”

The object of this discussion merely continued to swing his foot, a lazy smile on his face.

“Of
course
I’m sure!”

Morland bent close, and his fingers curved around her wrist. “Enough, Chessy,” he said softly. “You’re overwrought. You ought to be resting, not digging up imagined offenses that took place ten years ago.”

Her violet eyes blazed. “
Imagined?
I suppose I imagined everything that happened while my father and I slept. Without a letter, without a single word, you slunk off in the middle of an important excavation, leaving us short-handed, with no way to finish before the monsoon set in. And you try to tell me I’m
overwrought
!”

Swithin scratched his jaw. “Now, now. Miss Chessy. It don’t pay to—”

Chessy ignored him, shoving at Morland’s hands and trying to sit up.

But the azure-eyed earl was having none of it. “Hush. We’ll have plenty of time to argue about that after you rest.” His fingers circled her trembling arms. They sketched soothing patterns against her skin.

And Chessy felt every touch, every hint of motion. They raced down to her toes, lanced deep into her stomach. Damn the man! Did he think all it took was a caress or two and she would forget what he’d done? That she would turn into the same moon-faced innocent she had been at fifteen?

The idea made her blood churn.
“Rest?
With you within a hundred yards? I’d as soon turn my back on a Malacca Straits pirate! What did you plan to do
this
time, steal my boots? Strip the room clean?”

And then, to Chessy’s utter horror and dismay, a tear worked free and crept down her cheek. Quickly she thrust it away with a sooty fist.

But not before Morland had seen it.

His jaw went rock-hard, his eyes unreadable. “Chessy, don’t.”

“
Don’t?
Don’t remind you of the ugly truth? Don’t tell you how you hurt my father when you left?” Her gaze slashed at Morland. “I’ll never forget the look on his face when he found you’d cleared off while we were at our busiest time. He’d put so much of himself into that excavation, such love and joy! And you—well, stupid as it was, he liked you immensely. Do you know that afterward he changed overnight? He never laughed as he used to do, never sang those disgraceful French shanties. He seemed to age years in a day, in fact. That was all
your
doing. And now you stand there, fine as five pence, and tell me to
forget?
I can never forget—nor forgive you!”

Abruptly she fell back against the settee. Her lips trembled slightly as she rubbed her throbbing forehead. “Oh, go away—just go
away!”

Morland’s lips thinned to a hard line. He turned to the anxious servant. “Swithin, isn’t it?”

“Aye, your lordship.”

“Go and fetch us some brandy. And also something to eat. Biscuits or cakes.”

The servant shuffled uncomfortably. “Don’t reckon I kin do that, your lordship.”

“Why in blazes not, man?”

The servant hesitated.

“Surely you don’t suspect me of planning an assault on her virtue? The woman’s half insensible!”

“Aye, that she is,” Swithin said unhappily.

“Well? Fetch the brandy and biscuits. That should restore her.”

“Most likely, your lordship. But I still can’t oblige you, for all that. We don’t have neither, you see.”

Morland began to wonder if he had stumbled headlong into Bedlam. “Then bring something else, man. Sherry will do, if need be. Or—”

Chessy uttered a ragged sound of protest.

Morland ignored her. “Don’t tell me you haven’t any of that either!”

Swithin shrugged uncomfortably.

“What in thunder
do
you have?”

The rangy servant scratched his head. “Precious little, truth be told. Few eggs. A bit o’ flour. Some ham, mebbe.”

Chessy stiffened as she heard Morland mutter a curse.

The kitchens
were
a shambles, but they’d only been in London for a month, and she still hadn’t gotten the hang of how business was managed here. She certainly couldn’t afford the hiring of a staff to help her.

And that miserable, sneaking coal vendor this morning had been the last straw!

White-faced, Chessy massaged her left temple, trying to will the waves of pain away.

Dimly she heard Morland rap out a volley of instructions to Swithin. Then came the clink of coins.

At that sound her eyes flashed open. “You go too far! We don’t need your money! What right have you—”

A large and very powerful palm planted itself flat on her chest and drove her back against the settee. “Stop ranting and let the poor man be about his work.”

“He’s not poor. And he’s
my
man, not yours, so I’ll thank you to—”

Behind her the door closed quietly.

“Swithin? Come back here, blast it all! Don’t you dare—”

Morland’s fingers tightened.

Suddenly Chessy felt
—really
felt—their hard contours against her shoulder. She remembered how those strong hands had slid over his mistress’s bare skin, driving her to a breathless, cresting pleasure.

Chessy’s face flushed and she began to struggle. Anything was better than thinking about
that!
“Let go of me, you—you brute!
Swithin!
Come back here!”

Morland smothered a curse as her nails grazed his cheek. In taut silence he caught her wrists tightly. “Swithin has infinitely more sense than
you
appear to have. Where is that wretched father of yours? I can’t believe he’s allowed matters to reach such a state. Sweet Lord, Chessy, how long have you been going on in this way? When did you last eat properly?”

Chessy answered with a furious squirming.

Frowning, Morland planted his thigh atop her legs. She felt the corded muscles bunch and ripple. Dear heaven, he was big. He was hot and hard and—

“Get
off
me!”

Morland’s body went rigid. “What are you trying to hide?”

“Hide?” Her heart lurched. “Why should I want to hide anything from
you?”

“I was just asking myself that question.” Morland’s elbow flexed slightly. “Where is he, Francesca? Off sermonizing at the British Museum? Sequestered with his cronies at the Royal Geographical Society? When I find the man, I’ll draw and quarter him!”

His face might have been carved out of granite, his eyes from Himalayan turquoise.

Chessy barely noticed.

Francesca
.

How she had always hated that name. She hadn’t heard it in years. Certainly she hadn’t heard it said the way he had.

He had used the name often that summer in Macao. Sometimes it had been voiced in simple, blunt camaraderie, sometimes in irritation, and sometimes with an infuriating blend of hauteur and disapproval.

Just as he had moments before.

Suddenly Chessy remembered the other times he had spoken to her that way. He had pulled her out of one scrape or other while her father had been busy with his maps and his exploration of the treacherous waters around the wrecked imperial Chinese treasure junk.

On one occasion a group of fishermen had been convinced that the foreign girl with violet eyes was an evil sea-devil stealing their fish. Morland had sauntered into their midst just as they were preparing to tie Chessy into a weighted sack and toss her overboard.

Chessy had been glad to see him
that
time.

Several weeks later, a powerful warlord from Canton, watching her swim near the wreck, had decided he
«
must have her for his twelfth concubine.
He
was not so easily routed as the fishermen, since one of his advisers had suggested that union with a violet-eyed virgin would give him the sexual stamina of a twenty-year-old.

It had taken Tony the better part of a day and a harrowing night to persuade the warlord that Francesca Cameron would not be at all good for his sexual energy. Among the major reasons Tony listed were that she was no longer a virgin, and that Morland himself could attest to her insatiable demands in bed, demands that rendered a man old before his time.