Rapturous Rakes Bundle (29 page)

‘It cannot be too soon for me!’

Rachel smiled and tied the ribbons of her bonnet

more securely beneath her chin. ‘You seem most put

out by Lady Benedict’s spite, Rebecca,’ she observed.

‘I know that she is a wicked scandalmonger, but I

wonder whether her barbs have upset you because they

have so much truth in them?’

Rebecca cast her a sideways glance. There was

nothing but concern in Rachel’s face; none of the cu-

riosity that she had encountered from the ladies of

Midwinter, none of the envious speculation.

‘I am sorry,’ she said, with difficulty. ‘You have

been the kindest of friends to me, Rachel, and I know

that I am very bad at confiding.’

Rachel gave a little elegant wave of the hand. ‘You

need confide nothing if you do not wish, Rebecca.

Once before I said that I would stand your friend if

you needed me; I merely wanted you to know that the

offer still stands.’

Rebecca nodded. ‘Thank you, Rachel. You are most

218

The
Rake’s
Mistress

kind.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose I
am
a little liverish be-

cause I am finding it difficult to remember that I dis-

like Lucas Kestrel. He is very good at making me

forget it.’

Rachel laughed. ‘Oh, dear—must you keep remind-

ing yourself?’

‘I think so,’ Rebecca said. ‘He did deceive me.’

‘And has been most sincerely repentant on the sub-

ject.’

‘And I am supposed to be spurning his advances.’

‘As part of a pretence, perhaps, but in real life?’

Rachel frowned. ‘If you like Lucas, Rebecca—if you

can forgive him—I would suggest that you give him

a chance to redeem himself. It is a melancholy thing

to punish both of you when you might be happier to-

gether.’

Rebecca clasped her gloved fingers together tightly.

‘It is not so simple, Rachel. I love Lucas. I loved him

even when I was angry with him. In fact...’ Rebecca

hesitated ‘...I was probably so angry because I loved

him so much, if that makes sense.’

‘Perfect sense,’ Rachel said sagely. ‘I see. You love

Lucas, but you are not certain if he loves you too.’

Rebecca shrugged dispiritedly. ‘I know that there

are those who hold that love is not essential for mar-

riage, but I am not amongst them.’

‘Nor I,’ Rachel said. ‘It is a melancholy thing to

settle for second best.’

‘So I believe,’ Rebecca said. ‘Which is why it is

easier for me to keep Lucas at arm’s length.’

Rachel looked unconvinced. ‘I do believe that Lucas

Nicola
Cornick

219

cares for you a great deal, Rebecca. One only requires

to watch him with you to realise that.’

Rebecca blushed. ‘Liking and wanting someone are

different from loving them, Rachel.’

‘I understand that. What I am unsure of is whether

Lucas does.’ Rachel glanced quickly at Rebecca.

‘Please do not misunderstand me. Lucas has not con-

fided in either Cory or myself. Having known him for

a little, however, I would say that he has been caught

off guard by his feelings for you, Rebecca, and may

not yet have realised quite how important they are.

Men,’ Rachel said, with a little sigh, ‘can be rather

slow in recognising these matters.’

They had reached the place where the path to Mid-

winter Royal split from that to Kestrel Court.

‘I will not come back for a cup of tea,’ Rachel said,

‘for Mama is expecting me back to help catalogue

some artifacts she has found in the burial field. We

shall see you tonight at Lady Benedict’s dinner, Ra-

chel.’

Dinner at Midwinter Bere was every bit as bad as

Rebecca had anticipated it would be. Lily Benedict

had elected to place Justin Kestrel on her right and

Lucas on her left, putting Rebecca at the very bottom

of the table between her husband and John Norton. It

was extremely unusual for Sir Edgar Benedict to be

present at any social occasion and he sat in his Bath

chair, a huddled figure smelling strongly of old, musty

clothes and cloying illness, and said not a single word.

Occasionally his hooded gaze would sweep the assem-

bled throng like a malignant crow until he would bend

220

The
Rake’s
Mistress

his head over his food once again, speaking only to

the assiduous servant who was by his side throughout.

That left Rebecca to the tender mercies of Sir John

Norton, who seemed delighted to be squiring her for

the evening and told her many, protracted tales of his

Arctic exploration and his sailing prowess. Rebecca

listened and smiled in all the right places and noted

that the crystal on the table was very fine, seventeenth-

century Dutch workmanship, but that it certainly was

not the glass engraved by her uncle for the Midwinter

spies.

It was later, when the ladies withdrew after dinner,

that she saw something that made her heart leap into

her throat and made her wonder whether there was,

after all, someone in the Benedict household with a

closer connection to her uncle than she had supposed.

On a pedestal in the shadowed alcove by the library

door was a tall glass vase with an exquisite engraving

of a sailing ship on it. It was certainly the work of

George Provost’s workshop. Rebecca’s heart started to

race. She could not see the detail of the vase clearly

in the dim light, but it roused her curiosity and made

her wonder whether there were any other pieces in the

house.

She allowed the other ladies to stroll on ahead of

her, then slipped unseen into the library. It seemed as

good a place as any to start. It was a gloomy chamber

that seemed to fit all too well Sir Edgar’s melancholy

personality, and whilst there were various pieces of

sculpture on plinths about the room, there were no

other pieces of engraved glass. Rebecca, aware that

Nicola
Cornick

221

she could not be missing for too long, heaved a sigh

and retraced her steps into the hall. She looked again

at the engraved vase. It was most definitely her uncle’s

work, which meant that someone in the household

must have placed a commission for work with George

Provost at some time. She had no recollection of it

having been made, but that was not extraordinary. In

her uncle’s heyday the engraving workshop had been

inundated with orders.

Deep in thought, Rebecca rounded the corner of the

corridor and walked straight into Lucas. He grabbed

her above the elbows and held her hard. He looked

absolutely furious.

‘I have been searching for you everywhere. What

the
devil
do you think you are doing, Rebecca?’

Rebecca was stung by his tone. ‘What do you think

I was doing? I was
trying
to find the engraved glass.

I thought that to be the purpose of our visit!’

‘You do
not
go off wandering about on your own!’

Lucas shook her slightly. ‘Good God, Rebecca, have

you understood nothing? This is dangerous work!’

Rebecca was shaken by the savage undertone in his

voice. ‘I am perfectly aware of that, Lucas,’ she said,

with dignity, ‘and I do not think it adds anything to

the secrecy of our situation for you to stand upbraiding

me in the corridor. Anyone might hear you!’

They stood glaring at one another. There was the

sound of a door closing, footsteps, raised voices. Re-

becca tried to move away but, quick as a flash, Lucas’s

arms went around her hard and his mouth came down

on hers in a ruthless kiss.

Rebecca could not move, could not break free, and

222

The
Rake’s
Mistress

did not want to. The moment Lucas had touched her

she was lost, knowing this was what she had wanted

through the long, lonely nights when she had lain

alone in her bed, tormented to know that Lucas was

so close to her and yet so far away. Her body trembled

and went soft with acquiescence and the kiss eased at

once. Lucas bit down gently on her full lower lip then

rubbed it with the tip of his tongue, teasing, dipping

inside her mouth and then retreating. It melted her and

made her reach blindly for him. In return he moved

his mouth over hers with a thoroughness that had her

sighing. She had forgotten about their audience until

there was the sound of gentle laughter close at hand

and Lady Sally Saltire spoke from out of the shadows.

‘I do believe,’ she said, and the amusement was

clear in her voice, ‘that your cousin has overcome her

indifference to Lord Lucas, Justin!’

Rebecca jumped as though scalded, but even then

Lucas was slow to let her go, releasing her with every

sign of reluctance. Justin Kestrel and Lady Sally were

standing a mere ten feet away, Lady Sally looking

speculative and Justin looking quite blank. Rebecca

could not tell whether he approved or not.

Lucas drew her close to his side. It was difficult to

resist the reassuring protectiveness of his gesture.

‘I wondered,’ Justin said in measured tone, ‘whether

you were ready to depart, Miss Raleigh? It is a shame

to cut the evening short, but I think it wise not to tax

Sir Edgar’s strength too much.’

The journey back to Kestrel Court was conducted

in simmering silence. As soon as they were through

the door, Lucas murmured an apology to his brother,

Nicola
Cornick

223

caught Rebecca’s arm and bundled her though the

door of the drawing room.

‘I do not believe that we had finished our conver-

sation,’ he said pleasantly.

‘No!’ Rebecca spun around. She was feeling edgy

and vulnerable. ‘You will not use kissing me as...as

an excuse for loitering in corridors, Lord Lucas!’

‘You were the one who was loitering,’ Lucas said,

a gleam in his eyes. ‘I could not be certain who was

about to come across us and needed to provide a good

reason as to why we should be standing in the shadows

outside Lady Benedict’s library.’

‘You are inexcusable!’

‘I am sorry that you should think that.’ Lucas

strolled over to the mantelpiece. ‘I confess I forgot my

original motive within a few seconds. Kissing you was

long overdue, Rebecca.’

The tension between them spun out and thickened

until it was almost tangible, then Rebecca shook her

head impatiently. ‘You make me forget... What I re-

ally needed to tell you was that Lady Benedict has a

glass vase that was engraved by my uncle.’

Lucas’s gaze had sharpened. ‘You are positive?’

‘Certain. There can be no mistake. The style is

slightly different from the glasses the spies have been

using, but I recognise his work. Someone at Midwinter

Bere had commissioned the piece from my uncle.’

Lucas let out a long sigh. ‘Yet Bradshaw has

searched both Midwinter Bere and Sir John Norton’s

house and neither has yielded a sign of the glasses.’

‘Which leads one to the only conclusion—that the

glasses are kept elsewhere.’

224

The
Rake’s
Mistress

Lucas nodded. Unexpectedly he caught her hand.

‘Thank you, Rebecca.’

Rebecca was startled. ‘For what?’

‘For helping us. I understand that there are many

reasons why you might not.’

Rebecca tugged gently to free her hand, but he held

her tight. He gestured to the sofa.

‘Rebecca...I need to speak with you. Will you hear

me out?’

After a moment Rebecca sat down. Her heart was

hammering and her legs trembling so much she had

no choice.

‘I know that I deceived you badly over my original

motive in coming to your workshop,’ Lucas said. ‘I

hurt you. It was very wrong of me and I regret the

way that I behaved.’

‘You were doing a job,’ Rebecca said. Her throat

ached.

Lucas did not take the excuse. He came to sit beside

her. ‘That is true, but it is no justification. My instinct

told me to trust you and I ignored it. That was my

mistake.’

Rebecca did not argue the point. She was achingly

aware of his presence beside her although he had made