Taming the Rake (17 page)

“Augusta is my friend.”

“And she is my sister. She needs my permission to marry, and you can be sure that I will never allow a match with Carrington.”

Her cheeks heated with anger. “And what if Augusta loves him?”

He sneered. “Then I’d be doing her a favor.”

He must have read the defiance in her expression. “I don’t know what foolish plans you have hatched in that beautiful little head of yours, but forget it.” Oblivious to the others in the room, he took her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “Do not interfere, Georgina. I’m warning you, this time I will not be so forgiving.”

The darkness of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She jerked her head free and looked away. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Bright and early the next morning, Gina sought out Augusta, finding her in the south sitting room bent over pen and parchment diligently attending to her correspondence.

“Here you are, Augusta. I wanted a chance to speak with you before we depart for the race.”

Augusta’s welcoming smile was quickly replaced by a frown of concern. “Is something wrong?”

“I hope not,” Gina said, taking a seat near the writing desk.

“What is it? You have such a grave expression on your face.” She gave a small nervous laugh. “I confess you’re making me quite anxious.”

“I am worried, Augusta,” Gina said in earnest. “About Lord Ashley.”

A blush crept up Augusta’s pale cheeks. She bit her bottom lip like a chastened child. “I know it was wrong of me to not tell you that Lord Ashley would be here, but I gathered his presence would upset you, and I was afraid you would not come if you knew. Please, don’t be angry with me.”

She looked so pathetically woebegone that Gina smiled and gathered Augusta’s hands in hers as a parent would a child. Coventry’s voice warning her not to interfere echoed in her head—which she promptly ignored. “Of course I’m not angry. I only want what’s best for you. I hoped your brother would step in, but as he has not, and as your mother is not here, as your friend, I feel I must say something.”

“Of course you must.”

“It is obvious that you are quite taken with Lord Ashley, but surely you know the type of man he is?”

Augusta’s blush intensified. “I’ve heard the rumors, of course, but he’s not like that with me, he is a perfect gentleman.”

Gina shook her head, regretting the need to explain. “Don’t you see? That is all part of the game to men like Lord Ashley. He is not a gentleman, he is a rake. Rakes are dangerous because they make you believe that you are special, but their intentions are rarely honorable.”

Augusta paled. “I’m sure you are wrong about him.”

Gina looked straight into her eyes, wishing she could do something to wipe the stricken sadness from her friend’s gaze. “I wish I was.”

“But he’s one of my brother’s closest friends, surely James would warn me off Lord Ashley if there were cause for alarm.”

“Your brother is blinded by friendship. And compared to Coventry’s own reputation Lord Ashley is a saint.”

Perplexed, Augusta studied her. “If that is so, then shouldn’t you be heeding your own advice?”

Touché
. Gina felt her cheeks heat, caught by the canny observation. Augusta was right, but Gina could not tell her that she was only pursuing her brother for a wager. “I am only trying to help your brother become more respectable, I have no other interest in him.”

From her amused expression, Gina could tell that Augusta did not believe her. Eager to turn the conversation from herself, Gina addressed the other purpose for her visit. “Mr. Carrington also seems quite taken with you.”

Augusta wrinkled her nose. “He’s amiable enough, but I confess his considerable attentions make me a bit uncomfortable.”

It was hardly the enthusiastic endorsement Gina had hoped for. Perhaps Augusta didn’t realize his many attributes? “Mr. Carrington is a fine gentleman of fortune and not without connections as the younger son of a baron. He has been nothing but a perfect gentleman in every respect. His manners are commendable, and he is handsome in a pleasant, unassuming fashion.”

“I suppose,” she said, unconvinced. “Though he is not very tall. And don’t you think his eyes are a trifle…
beady
.” Augusta leaned closer as if she feared being heard. “They remind me of a rat.”

“Augusta Coventry! To not give a man a chance because his eyes are a shade small? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Small and close together,” Augusta mumbled under her breath.

Gina started to admonish her, but something held her back. Weren’t the eyes the window into the soul? That was one of the first things she’d noticed about Coventry. His eyes were cold and bleak, like a frozen pond in the dark of winter. Nonetheless, Gina would not be dissuaded.

“Mr. Carrington would make an excellent suitor.”

Augusta was not so easily convinced. “Don’t you think he’s a bit of a dullard? The entire journey in the carriage I do not think I heard him speak of anything other than the weather or food. Even my aunt seemed quite put out by the limited conversation.”

Gina brushed off her concerns. “You make him nervous, that’s all. He so wants to impress you.”

“Do you think so?”

“I know so,” Gina said confidently.

Gina congratulated herself on a job well done. Augusta had forsaken the opportunity to ride in her brother’s carriage with Lord Ashley for a ride in Mr. Carrington’s carriage with Gina and Lord Rockingham. Although Lord Rockingham had dominated the conversation on their short journey to Newmarket with his humorous anecdotes of his previous racing adventures, Mr. Carrington had acquitted himself well, venturing safely beyond the realm of food and weather. Augusta had even managed a smile or two of encouragement in his direction.

As they strolled along the beautifully manicured green waiting for the race to begin, Gina was pleased to see Augusta continuing to curry Mr. Carrington’s favor, under the increasingly watchful eye of Mrs. Persimmons.

Surprised by how much she’d enjoyed herself on their journey, Gina agreed to accompany Lord Rockingham to watch the race in the grassy area that Coventry had secured directly below the judges’ box along the famous Rowley Mile—so named for Charles II, the king who’d made the races at Newmarket famous. Of course, sticking close to Lord Rockingham also enabled her to avoid the questions of a scowling Coventry.

Augusta’s sudden transfer of attentions had not gone unnoticed by her brother. When Gina caught Coventry staring in her direction with particular menace, as if he’d guessed what she’d done, she innocently shrugged her shoulders and turned her attentions back to her handsome escort.

“Have you picked a favorite for the race, Lady Georgina?”

Gina smiled up from under the wide brim of her bonnet. To avoid the plague of bees that had followed her yesterday, Gina prudently abandoned the fresh flowers she usually favored for a simple adornment of ribbon.

“Hmm. I’m no great study of horse-flesh, but I do like the one in blue.”

Lord Rockingham grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He really had the most stunning eyes. The vibrant blue against the ebony of his hair and exceptionally long lashes was truly something to behold. His features were almost too perfectly formed, high cheekbones, straight nose, and square jaw, marred only by a thin hairline scar along the upper lip of his roguish mouth. When he smiled, as he did now, one side of his mouth lifted higher than the other, resulting in a delightfully crooked grin.

“A very good choice. Darlington’s filly is a beauty. Would you allow me to place a wager for you?” Sensing that she was about to protest, he assured her, “Merely a trifle, I promise.”

Gina hesitated. “I’m not sure it’s proper.” She looked meaningfully in the direction of her chaperone.

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “It will be our little secret. The race will be much more exciting if you have a stake in the outcome.”

Gina twitched her mouth, charmed despite her better judgment. Though Lord Rockingham did not have the reputation of Coventry or Beaufort—he was quite a few years younger—Gina sensed the potential. “Very well, but here”—she dug into her reticule and pulled out a guinea—“Mrs. Persimmons can hardly object if I wager my own money.”

It was amazing how such a diminutive lady could demand such respect. Even Coventry had been on his best behavior. Not once since he’d first come upon them yesterday had Mrs. Persimmons had to scold him. Gina frowned, not knowing what to make of his sudden transformation.

Lord Rockingham hastened away to one of the betting posts that had been set up around the grounds to accommodate the hundreds of wagers that would be placed on the race today.

As soon as Lord Rockingham left her side, like a hovering vulture Coventry swooped in. “Gambling, Lady Georgina? I would have thought such a wicked vice beneath your delicate sensibilities?”

She flushed, given that gambling was indeed one of the vices she intended to eradicate from his dissolute lifestyle. How did he always manage to put her on the defensive? “Spying, Lord Coventry?” That provoked a reaction—even if it was only the tightening of his mouth. He’d been watching her. “A mere pittance, I assure you. I would never wager more than I could afford to lose.”

He lifted an eyebrow at that, probably in reference to her considerable fortune. She could afford to lose quite a bit.

“Can you say the same?” she challenged.

“What thrill is there in caution, Lady Georgina?” His voice reached out like a silky caress, suggesting thrills far more sensual than gambling. “Without significant risk, there are no significant rewards. But then again, I rarely lose.”

She bristled even as the warmth of desire spread over her limbs. “Fortunes,”
and virtues,
“have been lost with that sort of arrogance.”

“And fortunes have been won.”

“There are much less reckless ways of winning a fortune, my lord.”

“If you refer to marriage, I think I’d rather take my chances with Lady Luck at the gaming tables.” He let the matter drop. “What did you say to my sister?”

Gina looked around for Lord Rockingham. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He took hold of her arm, forcing her attention to him. Gazing up at him, with the sun striking his gorgeous face, Gina shivered. He was trying to keep his expression placid, but not doing a very good job of it. Neither was she. Gina hated the mixed feelings that swarmed over her whenever he was near, the breathlessness, the erratic heartbeat, the heightened sense of awareness, the overwhelming desire to touch him, imagining what it would feel like to be wrapped in those powerful arms, the heart-stopping fear that he might kiss her. The disappointment when he did not.

Each time he touched her, she felt something spark inside her.

And he couldn’t stop looking at her mouth. Like he was hungry to taste her. It was terribly disconcerting.

Aware that Mrs. Persimmons was watching them, Gina hoped the flush of emotions did not show on her face. Or that her knees didn’t buckle from lack of air.

“I think you know exactly what I speak of,” Coventry said. “I doubt it is a coincidence that Augusta has been mooning over Carrington all day.”

“I’m surprised you troubled to notice what your sister is doing at all.” When he took a threatening step toward her, she knew she had to stop him. Standing so close, she feared her helplessness would be read by everyone. “I’m sure Augusta is only being a good hostess. Mr. Carrington did travel all the way from London with us.”

He didn’t believe her, but it stopped him. “Stay out of it, Georgina. You’re wrong about Carrington—and Ash for that matter.”

Gina clamped her mouth closed, biting back the argument that sprang to her lips. She had noticed Lord Ashley sulking about, but it was only because his no doubt illicit plans had been foiled.

Gina wrenched her arm free. Sanity returned. “If you are done threatening me, I think I’ll see what is keeping Lord Rockingham. The race is about to start.”

His eyes flared and the white-hot flash of rage startled her.

“Rockingham can take care of himself,” he spat. “And it’s not safe for you to wander about by yourself.”

It was a feeble excuse. Why didn’t he want her to seek out Rockingham? Perhaps there had been more to the black scowl than she realized. Could he be jealous? The possibility was so tantalizing, Gina knew she had to find out. “I’ll take a footman. Lord Rockingham has proved to be quite an entertaining companion. I fear I may have been wrong about him.”

He stiffened. “Rockingham is a reprobate. I’m surprised you are so easily deceived.”

“But isn’t he your friend? That isn’t very gracious of you.”

“It’s the truth.”

Gina pretended to consider his warning. “Surely such a handsome man could not be all bad.”

If she hadn’t been watching carefully, she wouldn’t have noticed his fists clench, the vein pulsing at his temple, and the tiny white lines appear around his mouth. Elated, a bubble of happiness burst inside her.

She smiled sweetly. “Why Lord Coventry, if I didn’t know better I would think that you had care for my virtue. Careful,” she warned playfully, “such sentiment would put you in danger of losing your illustrious membership as a Hellfire Rake.” Before he could argue, she motioned to one of the young footmen and started off in the direction where Lord Rockingham had headed.

He wasn’t difficult to find as he was on his way back to the group.

At his look of surprise, she said, “I came to find you. The race is about to start.”

He looked inordinately pleased to see her. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. It took me a bit longer than I expected to place all the wagers.”

Sensing her confusion, he explained. “I placed Coventry’s bet as well. And as it was more than a thousand I had to go to a number of booths.”

Gina blanched. “More than a thousand guineas?” Could Coventry be that reckless? Was his mother right to be concerned?

Lord Rockingham smiled. “Significantly more.” He took her hand and patted it. “Don’t worry about Coventry, he has the devil’s own luck in these things.”