The Redemption of Lord Rawlings (5 page)

In that moment, Phillip decided to speak, and said the only thing he could manage without cursing or making an absolute spectacle of himself. “I think I need another drink.”

Chapter Four

My dear readers, it has come to my attention that the devil himself was dancing with the beautiful and innocent sister to the Duchess of Tempest. It begs the question, just where was her chaperone and what interest does the wicked man have? Some say they are family friends. Appalled they would even associate with such a heathen. Ladies, since it appears that the lecherous Earl of Rawlings will make a late manifestation this Season, might I suggest taking your prayer books along with you to the rest of the events?

—
Mrs. Peabody’s Society Papers

Abigail could tell Rawlings was more than a little irritated with her. A look of fear seemed to flash across his face as well. It hadn’t occurred to her that he would be so upset. She hated to admit how it pricked her pride that he would be so irritated in her presence. It reminded her of days when she was younger, when she was left out of the games they so often played without her.

Childhood memories came rushing back. Managing a large smile, she swallowed pride and fear and asked him to escort her. She knew full well that if he said
no
, he would be inviting more questions, and the others would wonder if he was ill after all that sitting in the rain. Rawlings glowered at her, then offered his arm to her. Triumphantly, she accepted but did not speak until they were out of earshot.

“
That was close,” she said.

Rawlings stopped abruptly. “Close? What are you trying to do, Abby? Ruin yourself completely before your first real Season on the marriage mart?” She watched, entranced by the way anger flashed in his crystal blue eyes. Men like Rawlings were dangerous. He moved with a panther-like grace unmatched by any man. Broad and muscular shoulders framed his body. Abigail had never seen a pirate, but she guessed they all looked exactly like Rawlings. All he needed was an eye patch and a sword in his belt. Dark hair curled around his ears, not at all in the current style. His appearance gave the casual observer the perception that he was anything but concerned about his manner of dress and his devil-may-care manner.

Rawlings broke eye contact and looked away. Entranced she watched his long fingers stretch around a crystal glass. Rawlings’ gaze seemed to scour the room, searching for anything and everyone but her.

“
Why won’t you look at me?”

Cold blue eyes locked with hers, but it wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her. In fact it was the exact opposite of what she expected. Lust, desire, desperation—that’s what she wanted to see. Instead, his face held no emotion but anger, and dare she suspect, irritation at her presence. Obviously he needed her more than she realized. Muscles tensed across his jaw.

Finally he spoke. “We will not discuss what happened in the park with anyone. Do you understand, Abby? I won’t have your reputation ruined. You do realize that even standing by me will cause enough gossip to last the rest of the Season.”

“
Because you’re such a rake?” she offered.

“
Because I’m the devil himself. Now go off and dance with a man your own age, and do not make me regret my decision not to say anything to your sister. Debutantes do not run around throwing themselves at strangers.”

Abigail stepped closer; his breath hitched in his throat. “But you’re no stranger. I’ve known you since I was just a girl in pigtails, remember? Surely being by your side cannot damage my reputation.” She laughed and leaned in a little closer. “It’s not as if I’m kissing you right now.”

****

Blast! So this was to be his punishment for leading such a debauched life? Seduced by an innocent of only one and eight? Phillip closed his eyes in vain effort to break his gaze from Abby’s face. She was beautiful. He hated to admit that even if he had known her identity, it would have taken Herculean effort for him not to give in to that kiss.

Luscious lips formed such a delicate mouth, begging to be kissed and suckled—a mouth that any man would kill to touch. Although petite, her body managed to have curves in all the right places. Swearing under his breath, he was unable to stop the betrayal of his dishonorable eyes as they raked over the succulent curve of her breasts. Her simple white muslin dress left nothing to the imagination as it wrapped around her body provocatively, giving the impression that she would fit quite perfectly in his arms.

“
Abby, go away.” His voice was husky. Oh, death take him, he could smell her. Intoxicating essence of rose water floated from her skin—it was magnificent. A tendril of silky blonde hair fell from her simple coiffure, making contact with her white shoulder. And that neck. Lust pounded through his veins; he was so angry and blasted aroused, he couldn’t see straight.

Naturally, Abby did not move a muscle, except to lift her arm to pull at the silky tendril and wrap it around a delicate finger. Could a man die this way? With a woman so tempting he might sell everything he owns for one night with her?

“
I will not.”

“
Will not?” What were they discussing again?

“
Go away.” She smiled encouragingly. “I will not. I want to dance.”

Phillip scowled. “A lovely idea. Let me find someone of a suitable age and you’ll be off.”

“
With you.” She touched his hand briefly.

He was unable to say no, because the minx had grabbed his other hand while he was scanning the room for a young buck more suitable. He led her onto the dance floor, praying the whole way that the next dance wouldn’t be a waltz or anything which meant he had to hold her closer than he already was.

Phillip’s body was screaming for her in ways a man of his nature oddly hadn’t experienced before. He snapped his fuzzy brain to attention. Focusing on everything around the room except her eyes, her scent, the curve of her body. The very idea that he was lusting after her felt wrong, considering he had always thought of her as a sister.

Unfortunately, she felt nothing like a blood relative. Her skin was soft, supple—and perfect.

“
What are you looking for?” Her sultry voice interrupted his brooding. “I might be able to help.”

Phillip let out an irritated huff. “Brilliant. You see all those gentleman standing by the lemonade?”

She nodded emphatically.

“
Any one of them will do.”

“
Do?” Abigail tilted her head. “I believe I’m lost, my lord. What will they do?”

Phillip tightened his grip on her waist out of a mixture of lust and anger. “I thought it would be obvious, my dear. Any one of them would be acceptable for your attentions. In fact, I’m convinced you can secure at least four marriage proposals tonight, if you so desire. Your hair alone would drive them wild.”

Abigail smiled triumphantly. “So, you like my hair now that it is out of pigtails?”

“
Forgive me for being misleading. I wasn’t aiming to compliment you, Abby.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, like you did not mean to enjoy the kiss we shared either. Yet I know you did. Oh, close your mouth, Rawlings, before you set the tongues wagging. Interesting. Your skin has turned a sort of red color. You wouldn’t happen to be embarrassed about our little tryst, now would you?”

Phillip bit back the cutting remark, knowing it was improper for a lady’s ears. “I do wonder how Sebastian would feel about my strangling your pretty little neck. It is doubtful that Emma would miss you, since you’re barely old enough to be out of the schoolroom.”

At her brilliant blush and the sudden chip in her haughty bearing Phillip continued, “Ah, I see I’ve hit a somewhat of a tender spot, haven’t I? Dare I say that was your first kiss, Abigail? And how did it fare? Was it so disappointing? I found it wasn’t even enough to become a memory I would hold on to. But that’s because I’ve had practice, which you obviously have not.” Gripping her even tighter around the waist, he pulled her closer, so he could whisper in her ear. “Run along now and play with those more suitable to your innocent charms and deceptions, my dear. I have more important things to worry about than your blackmail and adolescent kisses.”

Abigail’s eyes were glassy with tears. Good. She should stay away from him. Better that she hate him than she chase after him and leave with a broken heart. Selfishly, he was doing it as much for her as he was for himself. He needed a wife, a savior of sorts, not a young innocent girl out to ‘have’ him for the notoriety of sharing a kiss with the debauched and almost ruined Lord Rawlings. And even if she truly possessed a tendre for him, Phillip would die before fanning her ardor into a full flame of passion. What he deserved was to be shot—not, to his dismay, the lovely wide-eyed innocent sister of his powerful friends.

Chapter Five

Was that Miss Abigail Gates this author saw leaving her first Season event early? And dare I say that her eyes were a touch watery? Alas, let this be a lesson to you, dear readers. Some men are beyond saving.

—
Mrs. Peabody’s Society Papers

Phillip was so exhausted; his eyes seemed to be propped open, incapable of closing, even though he tried in vain. He sat by the fireplace, feeling much the same as he had earlier that day—empty, alone, and angry. The bitter taste of wine and brandy was still on his tongue from the night’s festivities. But the familiar drink had done nothing to numb his feelings toward Abby, therefore rendering the whole purpose moot.

Abby
. He closed his eyes as the name rolled around in his head. Abigail Gates, who would have thought? Not he. The girl was up to no good…obviously. She had taken to blackmailing rakes for sport. Just what had gotten into that pretty head of hers?

Conflicting emotions raged inside him. Part of him was smiling at the brilliant luck of events that had transpired. All he needed to do was reveal that he had compromised Miss Abigail and his problems would be resolved. They would marry, his money would be released into his care, and he could pay off all his debts.

Yet at this point, it would be impossible. It would mean breaking the weak bond which had begun to form between him, Sebastian, and Nicholas. It would mean the end of any sort of happiness he hoped to have for his future. Better for him to marry anyone but her. Girls such as Abigail had certain fantasies about marriage and love. He could give her one but never the other. However, the thought of being stuck for a lifetime with a woman he was not attracted to held no appeal. Leave it to him to develop a blasted conscience and emotions at the most inconvenient moment. Deuced bad timing if you asked him.

As much as it pained him to admit it, he would have to take Emma’s offer. She knew him well—at least as well as anyone could know him; he didn’t even know himself anymore. Paying mistresses and drinking the night away no longer held the same thrill. The only friend he could claim was Whitmore, and it was a long stretch to call him a friend.

Life had never been more confusing or overwhelming. But it seemed he was being given a second chance at it. If he married well, releasing his money, maybe he could start over. Begin investing in things that interested him, put more time into his friendship with Sebastian and Nicholas. Dare he consider children? A legacy of his own? There comes a time in a man’s life when he looks back at the things he’s done and wonders if any of it actually mattered. Were the sins of his past committed only out of selfish desire to go against what his father had demanded of him? Was he so ignorant to think life would always smile on him, while he continued to make poor choices at the expense of others?

Rubbing his eyes, he rested his head in his hands and released a long sigh. What was he to do?

After witnessing the happiness Nicholas and Sebastian had found, it was evident Phillip was jealous. He wanted what they had, but it seemed their wives had literally been dropped into their willing hands. Sara was given over to Nicholas for tutelage. Doubtful that Lady Fenton meant for the tutelage to get that out of hand. All things considered, it turned out quite well. And Sebastian, lucky dog, was so blasted attractive and well titled to boot. The man could be diagnosed with a flesh-eating disease, and women would still be pounding down his door.

The silence in the room was deafening. The cruel world seemed to continually remind Phillip how alone he was. As if he needed reminding that no lady was beating down his door except the one he couldn’t take, no matter how desperate he became. He sat and listened. The fire crackled and spat. Laughter danced in from the streets. And Phillip sat…empty-handed and alone.

It was time he did something about it. Time he changed his life, changed his reputation and his future. And he knew just how to do it.

An idea manifested, and as Phillip glanced into the wicked flames he smiled his first genuine smile in years. Yes, things were looking up.

****

Abigail hated that she was crying. Showing weakness was not tolerated in her family, and she held herself to a higher standard. But he had been so cruel. She thought they were merely exchanging witty banter. Instead the man had slain her with one well-placed phrase, paralyzing her tongue from snapping a vicious retort.

After he had abandoned her on the dance floor, her only choice had been to smile through clenched teeth and return to Emma’s side.