SubmittingtotheRake (2 page)

“And have you never requested to see a woman again when you
have done with her here?”

“Never. What better way to conclude a liaison than with
three nights of unforgettable passion? Why wait until I tire of her or she of
me? Why tempt what would no doubt be an awkward or painful end?”

“What a pragmatist you are, Cadwell.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“Love knows no pragmatism.”

“My dear,” Sebastian said, eying her with care, “have you
partaken of tainted waters?”

Lady Follet pursed her lips. “It is only…well, your
lady…never mind. I will not keep you.”

With a gracious bow and kiss to her hand, he took his leave
and headed up the stairs to see Miss Josephine. He resolved that he would make
it worth her while. He certainly would not have her echoing Anne Wesley’s
sentiments, fabricated or otherwise. The halls would ring with the cries of joy
he would wrest from his lovely guest. And then he would bid Miss Josephine
adieu
,
as he had to the dozens of others who had preceded her, and send he on her way
to a better future.

As he headed down the hall, he felt a renewed sense of
spirit. The desire he had lacked moments ago returned with new vigor. He would
take Miss Josephine, awake or not, into his arms and have her swooning like
never before.

* * * * *

Heloise clasped and unclasped her hands several times as she
stood looking out the window at the descending moon. To her surprise, she had
fallen asleep for an hour or two on the luxurious feather mattress. She was
hungry and considering ringing the maid for something to eat when she heard
footsteps approaching. It was
him
. Somehow she knew it was him. The long
strides, the swift and confident tread could belong to none other than the Earl
of Blythe.

A knock, and then the door opened. Heloise continued to
stare out the window, telling herself that she would not be intimidated by this
man.

“Good evening, my dear…”

Letting out a breath, Heloise turned to face him. He stood
on the threshold, his form filling much of the doorframe. His tailored cutaway
coat with brass buttons, fitted buff pantaloons, perfectly tied cravat and
gleaming Hessians made her aware of how mussed her own appearance must be, her
gown rumpled from having fallen asleep on the bed and her hair flying in wisps
about her face. His eyes narrowed at her. Feeling herself falter beneath his
imposing gaze, she lifted her chin.

“Where is Miss Josephine?” he asked.

The coldness in his tone sent a shiver down her spine.
Bracing herself, she replied, “Safe from harm. Safe from you.”

“Harm? What harm did you imagine she would come to?”

That he should ask that question amazed and riled her. Did
he think her a simpleton?

“Surely you could not be so dull of wit, Your Lordship?” she
returned, pleased that she managed a rejoinder. “You may be devoid of morals
but I thought at least you did not lack in perception.”

Little flames lit his eyes.

“You would take her innocence and ruin her,” Heloise
accused.

“Innocence?” he echoed. “Miss Merrill, how well do you know
your cousin?”

She took a sharp breath. The man was insufferable.

“Better than you,” Heloise said. “She is far too respectable
a person to merit your attentions.”

Is that a smirk floating on his lips
? she wondered.

“She is indeed,” he allowed, “and as such will not suffer
the injury you fear.”

“It is quite well known what manner of depravity occurs
here, sir!”

“No one save Lady Follet would have known she was here—lest
you spoke of it.”

Heloise felt her cheeks burning at the suggestion that she
would have exposed her cousin.

“I spoke of this to no one when I intercepted your note to
her,” she said. “And how could you protect her identity here? You will forgive
me if I do not profess great confidence in the likes of Lady Follet!”

“Miss Merrill, you are free to believe what you will. As for
Lady Follet, you speak too hastily of a lady you know not,” he said with an edge
to his voice.

Heloise felt a stab of remorse for speaking harshly, but she
had no need for the likes of
him
to point that out to her.

“I assumed…” she attempted, noticing with worry that the
pupils of his eyes constricted.

“Why are you here, Miss Merrill?”

“You would not grant me an audience. And I would have you
listen to me. I would have you listen!”

The earl folded his arms and waited. His frown did not
diminish.

“If there is a shred of decency in you,” she began.

He lifted his brows. “I thought I was devoid of morals.”

She winced, regretting her earlier words, but there was
nothing to be done. She could not retract what she had said, so she forged
ahead.

“You have no need of someone like Josephine. Someone of
your, well, stature can command any number of other women. Josephine is not
worth your time.”

“Rather harsh words for a cousin you adore.”

“I meant—” She bristled.

“I know what you meant, Miss Merrill, but my mind has not
changed on the matter since last we met, and I do not appreciate attempts to
meddle in my affairs. I wonder that your cousin approves of it, but I take it
she does not realize you are here?”

Again, she flushed. “I am here on her behalf, even if she
would not approve of what I do. I realize I risk her affection, but I could not
stand idly by and watch her demise. She may not know it, but she requires my
aid.”

“Noble if not condescending sentiments. Your cousin is a
grown woman, not in leading strings.”

“She is young and does not appreciate the arts a man of your
sort would employ.”

This time it was he who turned color. “A man of my sort?”

Would he have her explain all to him? Heloise wondered,
sensing a dangerous pit opening up before her.

“I think you know to what I allude,” she evaded.

“If by that you mean your shallow view of my association
with women…”

Heloise blinked.
He
was the rake and would yet
criticize
her
character? The man was beyond monstrous.

He continued. “I quite understand people of
your
sort
and how threatened you feel by my enlightened position on the fairer sex.”

“Enlightened? Is that how you defend your wanton ways?”

He clucked his tongue. “
Tsk, tsk.
You make it sound
vulgar, Miss Merrill. Why scorn the innate urges, the natural passions of our
bodies?”

Her heart began to pound once more. Something in the way he
spoke, the rich tenor of his voice, the enunciation—as if he were caressing the
words—made her skin warm.

“The rhetoric of one who lacks the resolve to resist the
base desires…” she began, but her tone lacked confidence even to her own ears.

He took a step toward her, and despite the lethargy she had
felt from her journey and lack of sleep, every nerve in her body came to life.

“Are you possessed of such resolve, Miss Merrill?” he
inquired.

His gaze seemed to probe into her past, and she was sure he
saw it all.

“That is none of your concern and irrelevant to the matter
at hand,” she said quickly.

“You made it my concern when you chose to meddle in my
affairs,” he replied grimly, advancing another step.

“I think I am not possessed of the same, er, passions as you,”
she answered, taking a step back.

“Indeed? How sad. Perhaps that can be changed.”

“I have no wish to change.”

“You may feel differently in three days time.”

Three days time? What did he mean by that? Instinctively,
she glanced toward the door, her escape, but it was too far. And
he
stood in her path.

“I have no plans to keep my own company for the next three
days,” he elaborated. “And as you have deprived me of Miss Josephine, you will
have to take her place.”

“I have no intention of staying,” she protested, trying to
stave off the panic that gripped her heart. But it was not the fear of
immediate harm that alarmed her. It was…the flush of excitement coursing in her
body, a sensation reminiscent of a time long ago when she did not ignore her
curiosity or the urges of the flesh.

“Your intentions matter not. My coach will return you home
only on my command.”

“You mean to keep me here? Against my will?” she cried.

“You came of your own free will, Miss Merrill. I would have
advised against it.”

“I am to be your prisoner?” She attempted with what little
indignation she could muster to mask her agitation.

He advanced toward her, but she stepped back until the back
of her knees struck the bed. The nearness of his body took the air from her.
The flush in her body grew.

“Do you know what I do with meddlers?” he asked.

Trapped between him and the bed behind her, all she could do
was hold his gaze. Her mind grasped for a rejoinder but came up empty.

“I punish them, Miss Merrill.”