Too Hot For A Rake (17 page)

“It pleases me more than you know, ma’am. You could add to my pleasure if you would consent to call me Martin.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That goes beyond mere friendship, sir. Will you settle for Glynhaven?”

“A mere bone, but yes. I will if you allow me to call you Helena.”

Again, she felt trapped in a snare being carefully laid, “Of course. We are friends, are we not?”

When she led him to the terrace, she was comforted when she saw several gardeners at work nearby. They would not be alone—a good thing in her view, though what about the earl made her uneasy, she could not fathom.

“Waverley’s gardens are enchanting.” He smiled, but his eyes did not.

“They will be when the work is completed,” Helena said. “Lord Waverley has hired an inspired head gardener.”

“Lucky man. An inspired gardener is hard to come by these days. By the way, you have earned my sincerest admiration.”

“How so?”

“You behaved most properly in the face of my unruly guests.”

“How kind of you to say so.” She took a deep breath and added, “I’m going home to London shortly. Just as soon as the doctor says Waverley is well enough to fend for himself.”

He stopped near a stone bench. “Will you sit with me a moment?”

“If you wish,” she answered, yet she was again made to feel uneasy by the intent look on his face.

He sat by her side, lost in thought. When at last he spoke, he said, “I shall come soon to London to ask his grace for permission to pay my addresses to his daughter Helena. Will you marry me, my dear?”

She drew in her breath. “Glynhaven, did you not hear me? The last time you offered for my hand I refused you. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Perhaps your father can change it for you, then.”

She stiffened. “My father, sir, is not in the habit of forcing his children into wedlock against their wishes.”

“Then I suppose I shall have to win your love on my own, lovely Helena. And make no mistake—I love you and win you I will!” He pulled her to him with force and pressed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss.

She struggled to free herself, but he held her in a fierce grip, one hand on the back of her head and the other round her waist. Desperate, she swung her foot around and kicked him in his shin as hard as she could.

He yelped in pain and let her go, at which point Helena stood up and hovered over him, her arms hugging herself. “You…you brute! How dare you, sir! Didn’t your mother teach you how to behave toward a lady?”

Glynhaven fell to his knees before her and clutched her gown. “I beg pardon, Helena dearest. I—”

“How dare you! I. Am. Not. Your. Dearest! Let go of my gown. At once, do you hear!” She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed as hard as she was able. Hard enough for the earl to fall back and hit his head on the stone bench.

“All right, Helena, but—”

“And don’t call me Helena! You’ve lost that right by your unwanted assault.”

He rose and reached for her, but she took a step back. “I warn you, I’ll scream. There are enough gardeners within hearing who will come to my aid, sir!”

To her astonishment, a slow smile crept across his face. “Good God, Helena! You’re a bloody spitfire. Who would have thought it? If you think to deter my quest for your hand, you are mistaken, my love. We shall have some lively tussles together once we are married.”

“That, sir, will be never.”

“Never say never, my love. My sincerest apologies for being so clumsy, but I have never been in love before, you see. Give me time and I shall prove to you that I am worthy to be your husband.”

“You needn’t bother. My answer will remain the same. There’s no longer any need for us to pretend friendship either, for you have wounded me beyond repair.”

Glynhaven’s eyes narrowed. “It’s Waverley you love, isn’t it? Yes, I see it all now,” he said bitterly. “That rake has bested me since the days of our boyhood. And for no other reason than to show the other lads he could humiliate me.” Helena turned to leave, determined to hear no more of his vitriolic tongue, but he grasped her arm in a viselike grip. “No, don’t leave. And don’t scream for help. Stay and hear me out. That’s the last thing I’ll ask of you. I give you my word.”

“Let go of my arm, then.” She said it gently, for his tone was dangerous and she felt afraid.

“Won’t you sit down?”

“No, thank you. I prefer to stand, but I will listen to what you wish to say.”

“Waverley always had the edge here in Land’s End. Always. When we were children, he’d steal my friends from me. When we were old enough to want the young girls to notice us, it was always him they noticed. Not me. The other lads followed him as if he were the Pied Piper. And now he’s won the heart of the one woman in the world I want for a wife. Isn’t that ironic?”

She ignored the anger in his eyes and said, “He hasn’t won my heart, sir. Nor have you. I’ll take my leave of you now, if you don’t mind.” She turned and strode away. His final words assaulted her ears.

“Why so particular, my lady? How many more offers do you think you can garner, especially after everyone knows that Darlington jilted you?”

Tuesday, the Fifth of May, 1818

Glynhaven had terrified Helena. The recollection kept her tossing and turning until first light. She didn’t dare tell Waverley about the earl’s brutal assault, for fear he’d challenge the earl to yet another duel no matter the poor state of his health. When she woke, these unsettling events combined to cause her to suffer a violent headache and she groaned.

“What’s wrong, milady?” asked Amy in alarm.

“Oooh,” she wailed and held her head. “I have the worst headache….”

“Never fear, milady. Cook knows how to make a special posset, the perfect remedy for headaches. I’ll run down and have her prepare it for you.”

Helena lay back down and tried not to move a muscle, to lessen the pain.

“Find something simple in my wardrobe, such as a loose shirt and a large waistcoat. No neck cloth, if you please. Comfortable buckskin trousers and soft boots, as well.”

“But mastah…”

“No argument, my man. I’m determined to walk about a bit.”

A large tear ran down Rabu’s brown face.

“What is it?” Waverley asked in surprise.

“How have I failed you, mastah? You are still sick and…”

The marquis laughed at Rabu’s touching concern. “All right, you tyrant. You may accompany me to make sure I don’t die.”

“Thanks to your special posset, my headache is cured, Cook. Any progress in new hires?” Helena said.

“I sent Amy and Casper to the mop fair yesterday to find good people willin’ to work here. If anyone can, Amy will be able to convince ’em the wages are fair and the work is respectable and the Traskers are no longer in charge.”

“Good. We need more willing workers. I want to set Waverley to rights before I return to London.”

Cook bit her lip and cast her eyes down. “I been meanin’ to tell you…”

“What is it?”

“They had nowhere to go and they’re old, it be a pity to put ’em out to starve.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Brindle’s our tanner, though there be no work for him nowadays. He keeps a leather shop below stairs. Lives there, too.”

“In the cellar?”

“No ma’am. It be too drafty for him. There’s a small staircase at the end of the storage hall. His shop is below. Then there’s old Bridey, former nurse to the dowager. She sneaks down from the attic to see her lady from time to time. She lives next to Willa, milady’s seamstress. She can hardly see to sew a proper stitch, but she can mend. I give her torn sheets and aprons to repair and she does fine with ’em.”

Cook examined her hands before looking directly into Helena’s eyes. “That’s the lot, my lady. It’s either here or the poorhouse. I didn’t have the heart to send ’em there.”

“Who pays them their wages? They’re not listed in my account books.”

“No, my lady, they’re not. I pays ’em from me own wages and feeds ’em. The Traskers don’t know ’bout ’em, else they’d be long gone like all the others.”

“Who else knows about them?”

“Only me and me nieces.”

“We’ll keep them on, of course. You’re kind to share your wages, but that will no longer be necessary. Keep an account of what you have already paid them and I will see you are repaid. Perhaps Willa can mend some of my things. Does the marchioness enjoy Bridey’s company?”

“Oh yes, milady. The dowager misses her when she doesn’t visit.”

“Arrange for Bridey to visit, then. I will deal with the Traskers if it becomes necessary. But for the time being, continue to keep their presence a secret.” Helena rose, signaling the end of the interview. “Come. Show me the way to the tanner’s workshop.”

Helena entered a tiny shop richly smelling of leather and glue. The tanner Brindle had gnarled fingers and a timeworn face reminding her of an elf. “Good morning, sir. I am Lady Helena.”

“Hear tell.” He kept on gluing the sole of a well-worn boot.

“Whose boots are these, sir?”

“Eh, miss?” The stooped old man in the leather apron turned to her with a puzzled look.

“Whose boots are these?” she shouted, for Cook hadn’t told her the ancient tanner was almost completely deaf.

“The old marquis wore ’em fer huntin’ I recollec’. ’Tis a wonder they’s still here, what with things disappearin’ from my shop. Trasker’s been sellin’ all me bootster line his pockets. Right fine these boots were in the master’s day. Copied ’em from Weston’s in Lunnon,” he said. “I kep ’em fine, too. Wi’ my special leather polish.”

“Would you mind if I borrowed them?”

“No, milady. You’ll find no sorrow in ’em.”

Helena shouted the question again.

“Hep yerself, miss. Fixin’ to walk a bit?”

She smiled. “Yes. I thought I’d explore the cliffs by the sea.”

“Eh? It’s stiff ye be? No wonder, with all that jigglin’ and jogglin’ on them nasty roads from Lunnon. Them’s good boots fer walkin’, miss. Stuff ’em wi’ socks and they’ll fit ye right and tight. Hep yerself to one o’ the master’s walkin’ sticks, too.” He hesitated. “Mayhap…?”

“What is it?”

“I’ve hid away some bits o’ leather. Good stock, too. I’ll make ye a pair o’ sturdy walkin’ boots, if you like, milady. Be m’ pleasure. Jus’ sit a moment and let me draw both yer’ feet, if’n it ain’t too much bother.”

His kindness nearly brought Helena to tears. She touched his grizzled cheek. “Thank you, Brindle. You’re a good soul.” The man blushed from ear to ear.

When Brindle finished outlining her bare feet on paper, Helena took the boots—three sizes too large—and stuffed them with socks before she trudged toward the cliffs. She couldn’t wait to tell Waverley about Brindle. He might even remember him.

She felt a rush of pleasure when she reached the cliffs. The sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks and the heady smell of the salt air intoxicated her. She untied her hair and let the strong gusts of wind ruffle it. She’d brought her diary with her. It helped to record what was troubling her heart. She crawled into a small cave that would protect her from the salt spray, the rain beginning to fall and the fierce winds. It made her feel free for the moment. Free of those irritating Traskers. Free of the problems their surly servants continued to cause. Free of the difficulty of restoring a neglected castle in need of repair.

Two marriage proposals. Well, perhaps only one, since the earl’s was too ridiculous to be taken seriously. She pulled out her journal and began to write on a clean page.

Helena put her pen down and lay back in the cave, suddenly weary. She closed her eyes and thought of Waverley. His touch. His kisses. His hands. His thighs. Oh yes, especially the feel of his powerful thighs.
Is it a sin to lust after the man you love? Livy thinks passion is a joy with Sebastian.

She curled up inside her cloak, breathed in the heady salt of the sea, and fell asleep to the sound of gulls and terns squawking their dissonant tunes.

The rain turned back into a drizzle, allowing Waverley to continue prowling along the coast. He’d sent the terrified Rabu home and climbed carefully down to the pathway below, his thoughts on Helena. In a more innocent time when he might have courted a beautiful lass like Helena without the burden of a disreputable past.

Waverley stopped short at the sight of a pair of well-worn boots poking out of a cave. He inched toward the opening, his back against the rough stone. The boots did not move. Was the man dead or asleep? He removed the knife sheathed in his right boot, took a deep breath when he was close enough, and shouted, “Wake up if you want to live. Throw your weapons out and crawl out. Slowly, mind. Hands in the air.” The boots disappeared inside the cave.

“If you play hide-and-seek, I’ll cut your throat first and find out who you are later.”

Helena was terrified. The roar of the ocean distorted the man’s voice, rendering it impossible for her to recognize. That ominous voice might belong to Harry Trasker or worse yet, Glynhaven. She looked around for something she might use as a weapon and grasped a jagged rock.

“Out!”

“D-don’t harm me, sir. I’m coming.”

Was it the voice of a young lad, he wondered? If it was, the boy had large feet. Waverley cupped his mouth and shouted against the wind. “I’ll count to five. One. Two. Thr…”

Helena scrambled to her knees, turned and crawled out backward.

Waverley found himself eying the woman he loved. It took him a moment to recover from the shock. “Helena? What are you doing here?” He began to laugh.

“Are you laughing at me? Why?”

“If you could see yourself as I do…Where did you get those boots? Your clothes are filthy. How did you ever…?” The look of fear on her face stopped him. “Did I frighten you, love?”

“I…I thought I was about to be murdered by…I thought you were someone else.” Tears streaked her face. “I’m glad it’s only you, Desmond.” She rose as if to put her arms around him.

“Stay where you are, Helena dearest. If we fall off the cliff into the sea, we’ll die. I’ll come inside.” He inched the few steps along the wall to the cave’s small opening. “By the size of those boots, I thought you were a man. I might indeed have murdered you!”

She laughed like a schoolgirl. “But you didn’t, did you?”
Now. Do it now. Seduce him.

Her lips found his, but he stopped her. “Explain yourself, Helena. What are you doing here?” He tried to look stern, yet his grin gave him away.

Helena’s words tumbled out in a rush. “What do you think of my boots? They’re a tad too large, but I like them. I was taking a walk when the rain began. I found refuge in this cave, you see, and…”

Waverley couldn’t control himself any longer. He burst into a shout of laughter.

“You’re laughing at me again!” Helena tossed her head in irritation. “I find no humor in this situation. You might have murdered me.” Helena tried to scurry out of his reach.

“And where do you think you’re going, my girl?” He grabbed her rump with both hands, pulled her back and held her fast, still shaking with laughter. “If you could see yourself, my love, you would laugh with me. Your face is smudged. Your cloak is torn. Your hair is flying every which way and the hem of your gown is decorated with mud.” He pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. “Yet you smell like verbena and…” His lips closed on hers.
And you’re driving me mad.

He slid his tongue into her mouth, tasting, craving, wanting. She stirred beneath him and moaned little moans that engorged him. He spread her muddied cloak wide and tugged at the strings of her bodice, freeing her breasts. He kissed first one breast and then the other. Abruptly, he stopped. He sat up and held his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong? Why have you stopped? Are you in pain from your wound?”

“There’s no pain from my wound. Only from wanting you.” He glared at her. “Why the devil can’t you support me in my resolve to remain a gentleman?” he asked savagely.

“Hang your resolve if we love one another.”

“I won’t do it. Can’t you understand that I want you for my wife, not my mistress? I’d be much obliged if you didn’t put temptation in my way, you beautiful, irresistible temptress!”

He hurt her. “I beg pardon, my lord marquis, for foolishly allowing my desire to overcome my good sense. Perhaps we don’t suit after all, my lord. You needn’t worry. I can’t accept a marriage proposal that comes from mere gratitude, not love.” A gusty wind swept the rain into the cave and soaked them both, though it did nothing to dampen her anger.

“Helena, please! Listen to me. I won’t ruin you
because
I love you, don’t you see? The risk of getting you with child is too great.” He stopped, lifted his head and listened.

Loud shouts reached their ears. They seemed to come from above.

“Milady? Where are you? Can you hear me?”

“That’s Amy.” Helena began to rearrange her clothing.

Waverley frowned. “I’d best be gone, then.”

“She’ll see you leaving.”

“No she won’t. I know these cliffs better than the back of my hand.” He grabbed his cloak, kissed her hard and disappeared.

Helena climbed out of the cave and shouted, “I’m down here, Amy. Stay where you are. I’m coming up.”

“There you are, my lady! You gave me such a fright, me heart near stopped. Why didn’t you tell me you had a mind to wander these dangerous cliffs? I would have come with you to keep you safe.” Amy held her hand on her heart as if to emphasize the point. “I was afraid somethin’ fierce might have happened to you.

“Thank the Lord that Casper has such good eyesight. He spotted your cape sticking out of this here cave. Else we never would’ve found you. You’re soaked to the skin and it’s gettin’ powerful dark. How would you have made your way back?”

“I must have fallen asleep.” Helena let Amy pull her up from the final step to the path. “Thank you both for coming to my rescue. Foolish of me not to have told you, but you were nowhere about.”

Amy exchanged a significant glance with Casper. “We told you we was goin’ into town.”

“Indeed you did, but it slipped my mind. Did you have a nice day?”

Casper offered Helena his arm. “Here, let me help you, my lady. We have some news that will be to your likin’.”

“But first, we’ll get you safely back. I’ll wager you haven’t had a morsel to eat since breakfast. Well? Have you?”

Helena laughed. “You’re right, Amy. I’m wet and I’m fair to starving. Thank you for fussing over me.”