The Rake's Mistress (8 page)

Read The Rake's Mistress Online

Authors: Nicola Cornick

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Historical, #Holidays, #Regency, #Historical Romance, #Series, #Harlequin Historical

BOOK: The Rake's Mistress
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Rebecca did not look at him. ‘You were different,’ she said softly.

Lucas felt his body tighten. He did not feel different. He wanted exactly what her journeyman and no doubt many another man had wanted from
Rebecca Raleigh, and it was the devil’s own job not to demand it from her.

‘Not so different,’ he said, wryly truthful. ‘I wanted the same thing.’

Their eyes met and the tension seemed to spin out between them for an eternity. Rebecca broke the contact with an effort.

‘You were quicker to understand,’ she said drily, ‘for with you I did not have to resort to physical violence.’ She shifted a little. ‘So once Malet had left, muttering of retribution, I was on my own but for Emma, the servant girl. I soon realised that when the men went they took all the work with them. So then I had to let Emma go too, since I could not pay her.’

Lucas’s gaze narrowed with incredulity. ‘You have been living here
alone
for four months?’

‘Three months.’ Rebecca’s gaze flicked to his face and then away. ‘Emma was with me for a few weeks after my uncle’s death. I have managed well enough on my own. I have some work in hand…’ She smiled. ‘Quite a lot, thanks to you, my lord. And to the Archangel Club.’

She had given Lucas the opening he needed. He was astounded to feel himself hesitating to take it. At each step he became more deeply mired in deception. He was trying to obtain information from her under false pretences and his honour revolted
at the thought. He ignored the squirming of his conscience and forced himself to press on.

‘Do you have any other clients currently?’ he questioned, allowing his gaze to range about the workshop as though the answer did not really matter to him.

Rebecca’s gaze flickered. She rubbed a hand across her forehead. ‘No, I have none,’ she said.

‘And no business outstanding from your uncle’s time?’

Rebecca rubbed her eyes. It made her look like a child and it smote Lucas’s heart. ‘There are a few pieces still to be collected,’ she said. ‘My uncle completed some work for a gentleman who is a prodigious collector, but he has yet to send for it. I have it in the storeroom.’

Lucas’s nerves prickled. If this mysterious collector was part of the Midwinter spy circle and he had yet to collect his order, then they might be about to catch him red-handed.

‘What sort of engraving interests your collector?’ he asked, as casually as he could.

Rebecca raised her brows. ‘Why, all sorts of designs, my lord. Ships and birds and anchors… My uncle did an entire set for him with an astronomical motif—the phases of the moon, and the sun and stars. He has a wide interest.’

Lucas’s attention was riveted. He had one of the Midwinter glasses in the pocket of his coat at that
very moment and it was a match for a design he could see on the display shelves. He could feel the hard edge of the glass pressing against his thigh, reminding of the exact reason why he was in this studio, questioning Miss Rebecca Raleigh, glass engraver.

‘What manner of man is he, this collector?’ he asked, hoping he was not pressing too hard and raising her suspicions. It was difficult to tell what she was thinking. She gave him a direct look from her very blue eyes, but he could not read her expression.

‘I have no notion, my lord. I never meet him. He sends his servant to place the orders and collect the finished engraving.’

Lucas shrugged, as though the matter was of no further interest to him. He would instruct Tom Bradshaw to keep the shop under observation until such time as the servant came to collect his order, and then he would have the man followed and see where that led them. He did not want to ask Rebecca any more questions on the topic now, both because he knew that she would become suspicious and also because he felt a traitor to be asking at all. He changed the subject to something more personal.

‘Your friend, Miss Astley,’ he said. ‘Was she responsible for your commission from the Archangel?’

‘No.’ Rebecca smiled again, turning her empty beaker between her hands. ‘My uncle did some work for the Club in the past, but Nan reminded Lord Fremantle of it when he was looking for an engraver to produce the rose bowl. She and I have been friends since we were children, for all that our way of life is quite divergent these days.’

‘And does she seek to persuade you that her way is preferable to yours?’

‘Of course,’ Rebecca said. She looked around the studio, a rueful smile on her lips. ‘Who is to say that she is not correct, my lord? There are easier ways than this to earn a living.’

‘Yet you do not believe it?’

Rebecca looked him straight in the eye. ‘Maybe it is a fault in me that the one commodity I am not prepared to sell is myself.’ A little frown creased her brow. ‘And that reminds me, my lord, that I must ask you not to give me any further charity. I cannot afford to pay you back.’

‘I am not asking you to do so,’ Lucas pointed out. He gestured to the fire. ‘I could dismantle that, I suppose, and take it with me, but I am loath to deprive you of its warmth.’ He stood up, smiling at her. ‘I fear, my dear Miss Raleigh, that you will just have to bear with my quixotic gifts—and bear with me.’

Rebecca got up too. ‘It would be better if you were not to call here again,’ she said.

Lucas could see the reluctance in her face. ‘Better for whom?’ he queried gently.

‘Better for me.’ Rebecca fidgeted with the pencils on her work desk. ‘Already people are starting to comment.’

Lucas raised his brows with arrogant disregard. He had never cared for the opinions of others. To him the most important thing was that Rebecca should not starve. ‘People are talking? Then tell them to go hang.’

Rebecca frowned slightly. He sensed that she was genuinely distressed. ‘Then you will not promise to leave me alone?’

‘I will not.’ Lucas sighed. ‘I cannot, Miss Raleigh.’

He waited, watching her try to work this out. There was a fugitive shyness in her blue eyes. These were the times when he sensed her vulnerability most acutely and it made him feel an utter scoundrel. He was torn in half. He genuinely wished to protect Rebecca and yet he knew he was taking advantage. This was caddish behaviour, abusing her growing trust in him in the hope that she might inadvertently pass on some useful information. Justin’s return could not happen any too soon, so that he might hand over the entire investigation to him and withdraw before he hurt Rebecca Raleigh—and before his own feelings
made a fool of him as well. Already he was in far too deep. And yet he had no real wish to withdraw.

He saw Rebecca’s brow creased into a deeper frown. ‘Why will you not promise to leave me be?’ she whispered.

‘Because I cannot keep my word.’ It was the absolute truth. Lucas took her hand and kissed her fingers. He felt her try to draw away but did not let her go. He looked directly into her eyes. ‘You see, Miss Raleigh, I have no
desire
to leave you alone. On the contrary, I wish to spend as much time as possible with you. So you see it would be quite foolish for me to make a promise that I have no intention of keeping.’

He watched the emotions flicker across Rebecca’s face. ‘You cannot spend time with me,’ she protested. ‘You distract me from my work too much. Besides…’ she gave a little shrug ‘…it is quite pointless.’

Lucas smiled. ‘Perhaps you will become accustomed to my presence?’

Rebecca shook her head. ‘I doubt that I shall become indifferent to it.’

Lucas drew her a little closer. ‘I am grateful for that. The last thing that I should wish for is that you be indifferent to me.’

Rebecca held him off with a hand against his chest. ‘And what would be the
first
thing that you would wish for, my lord? For whatever it is, I
cannot give it to you. I cannot see
any purpose
to your visits at all.’

Lucas turned her hand over and kissed the palm, feeling the shiver that went through her body as an echo deep within his own.

‘All I desire is to see you,’ he said. But already he was making a liar of himself, drawing her into his arms.

‘My lord,’ she said quietly, ‘I thought that I explained—’

‘It is only a kiss,’ Lucas said lightly, ‘and you can always decline.’ He smiled into her eyes. ‘You have already argued with me over countless other matters, Miss Raleigh. It should not be difficult for you to refuse me this…’

And as he spoke he drew her closer, allowing himself to forget the real reason that he was there, the purpose of his enquiries, the dual nature of his interest. Her softness and strength fascinated him. In that moment he wanted only her and everything else faded into complete insignificance as he bent his head to kiss her.

Rebecca was not sure why she had told Lucas so much, nor why she felt relieved to have done so. She had not confided in anyone since her uncle and aunt had died, but had kept her feelings locked tightly in her chest, repressed beneath the work that had kept her mind and body occupied from
dawn to dusk. Now, though, she felt lighter in spirit than she had done in a long while. It was this she blamed later for her poor judgement in allowing Lucas to kiss her.

‘It should not be difficult for you to refuse me this…’ he said.

Somehow his broad shoulders seemed to have blocked out the rest of the studio, the rest of the world. Rebecca could see only him.

‘May I?’ Lucas said softly.

Now that he was so close to her Rebecca found she seemed incapable of doing anything other than look at him. She knew the answer to his question was most definitely ‘No’, but she was having some difficulty with the word. Eventually what came out was ‘Yes’.

She would probably have added a ‘please’, for good measure, but Lucas was already kissing her by then, a slow, lazy, languorous kiss that should have been light and easy to dismiss, but somehow was not. His mouth was warm and firm on hers, promising the sorts of things that Rebecca was not even aware that she wanted. As his arms went around her she felt her whole body soften against his, pliant and suffused with heat. Her legs trembled and the ground seemed to tumble away beneath her, which did not matter since Lucas was holding her hard now. She leaned against him and felt the world start to spin.
Now
she knew why she
had never allowed a gentleman to kiss her properly before.
Now
she knew for sure that it was perilous and exciting and enough to make one forget everything—modesty and sense and propriety. Or, to be exact, that was what kissing Lucas did to her. She doubted that it would be the same with anyone else.

She was not sure how much time had passed before Lucas let her go, very gently, keeping a protective arm about her. Rebecca could not focus for a moment; all she was aware of was an intolerably strong ache to be in his arms again. She looked up into his face, saw the blaze of heat in his eyes, saw that he was about to pull her to him again, and stepped back in sudden panic.

‘No! I… Oh, no!’

Lucas moved away at once. His face was a little pale and he was breathing hard. He ran a hand over his hair. ‘Miss Raleigh—Rebecca—’

‘Do not,’ Rebecca said. There was a wrench in her voice. She could not believe that she had just invited Lucas Kestrel to kiss her. It seemed absurd, extraordinary. Yet she had ached to be in his arms and, once there, she had wanted him to hold her forever. And now that he had let her go she felt dreadfully lonely. She was evidently far more vulnerable than she had realised, to be drawn to the strength and assurance of a man she hardly knew.

She pressed a hand to her lips, moving to put some distance between them. ‘I do not know why I said yes,’ she murmured. ‘I never do such things—’ She cut the words off before she gave herself away further and moved behind the rosewood desk. It made her feel better to put something solid between them. She hoped that Lucas was going to leave soon. Her legs still felt shaky and her head felt light, and she was not at all sure what was wrong with her.

Lucas was watching her. It made her feel hot and nervous.

‘I think I have made a mistake,’ she said.

‘I am sorry that you should view my kiss in such a light,’ Lucas said. He started to move around the desk towards her. A quick, heated excitement gripped Rebecca and held her still.

‘Allowing for the fact that it was a mistake, how did you view the experience?’ Lucas continued.

Rebecca drew a short breath. ‘It was tolerable, my lord,’ she lied.

Lucas raised his dark brows. A spark of devilment came into his eyes. ‘Only tolerable? That is not how I would wish you to remember it, Miss Raleigh. You had better give me another chance.’

Rebecca backed away swiftly from her second error. ‘There is no need whatsoever. It was passable, my lord—perfectly acceptable…’

Lucas was laughing now. ‘I shall have to do better,’ he murmured, reaching to pull her closer again. His voice roughened. ‘Acceptable is simply not…acceptable.’

Rebecca wriggled, but Lucas had an arm about her and held her ruthlessly still. She felt his breath feather across her skin. She could see the shadow of his eyelashes, spiky against the hard line of his cheek. His lips brushed her jaw, then his mouth was suddenly on hers, his hand tangled in her hair, tilting her face up to his. Sensation flared within her. The rosewood desk was smooth, the back of it hard against her thighs. She felt herself tremble. Lucas’s hand brushed the cotton of her gown, his palm against her breast. He was kissing her with such urgency that her head reeled. His slightest touch could ignite her fiercest longings. She felt heavy, languid and tingly all over. Rebecca had never, ever imagined it could be like that.

The world shook. She felt herself lean back against the desk, scattering the pencil sketches all over the floor. The sound disturbed her and she tried instinctively to pull away, but Lucas did not break the kiss, prolonging it mercilessly until Rebecca had almost forgotten where she was and was held helpless and bewitched. This time when his lips left hers she gave a small gasp of disappointment that she could not repress, and she saw the masculine satisfaction in his expression as he
scanned her face. Useless to try to deny his effect on her, for it was evident in her shaking hands and her flushed, aroused face.

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