Rapturous Rakes Bundle (3 page)

of his plight at the hands of his friends, who had aban-

doned him in a bordello, I agreed to convey him home.

That is the sum total of our acquaintance.’ She looked

at him defiantly. ‘On the basis of that short meeting,

however, I can assure you that his company is far pref-

erable to yours!’

Lucas laughed. ‘I imagine so,’ he agreed. ‘I expect

that Stephen was most charming to you, whereas I,

having knocked about the world a good deal more than

he has, am not as gullible as a youth in his salad days.’

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Once again, his gaze assessed her, studying the curve

of her breast beneath the thick, unfashionable worsted

of her dress and returning to linger with disturbing

concentration on her mouth.

‘How much did you take him for, Miss Raleigh?’

he asked softly. ‘One hundred guineas? More? What

is your price?’

Rebecca shrugged, feeling inordinately angry.

‘Your judgement is not as sound as you pretend, my

lord,’ she forced out. It was an effort to speak politely,

but years of dealing with her uncle’s customers had

schooled her temper. ‘A gentleman who cannot tell the

difference between a Cyprian and an artisan has little

discernment indeed.’

Lucas looked incredulous. He lay back on the seat,

crossing his long legs at the ankle. Rebecca moved her

skirts aside to avoid touching him. He watched her

manoeuvre with amusement.

‘My dear Miss Raleigh,’ he said, ‘surely the facts

speak for themselves?’ He gestured about them. ‘This

is a carriage owned by the Archangel Club for the

exclusive use of their customers. I find you inside it,

with my brother. He is half-naked, smelling of drink

and perfume, and covered in painted kisses. You

are—’

‘I am what?’ Rebecca retorted. ‘Fully dressed? Your

imagination runs away with you, Lord Lucas. Matters

fell out precisely as I told you, as you will find when

you interrogate your brother. In fact, I suggest that you

go and do so now. I find your company grates on me!’

Lucas was laughing. ‘What a charming manner you

have, Miss Raleigh. Do you practise it on your cli-

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Mistress

ents—in whatever trade it is that you profess to per-

form?’

Rebecca bit her lip. Hard. She found that she wanted

to do him some sort of injury, preferably a painful and

nasty one.

‘My customers deserve civility, my lord,’ she said.

‘You forfeited that right by your own discourtesy.’

Lucas gave her an ironic half-bow. ‘I beg your par-

don, Miss Raleigh. Would you care to explain the

manner in which I have insulted you?’

Rebecca glared at him. ‘Surely that is quite obvious,

my lord? You are a gentleman who has a positive

talent for offending a lady. I deeply regret the act of

kindness that led me to offer my help to your brother.

If I had known that it would require me to spend any

amount of time with you, then I would have thought

not once but twice!’

She saw the gleam of Lucas’s teeth as he smiled.

‘A neat insult of your own, Miss Raleigh. You defend

yourself with spirit. Alas, you are doing it too brown.’

His tone changed, became cynical. ‘No one associated

with the Angels ever acts out of kindness. Why not

come clean and tell me the truth? You may be sure

that Stephen will not hold out for long when I speak

to him.’

Rebecca closed her eyes, counted to ten and opened

them again. Her voice was measured.

‘I assure you, my lord, that my meeting with your

brother fell out exactly as I have related it. As for

myself, I would say that that is none of your business.

I am not a Cyprian, I am not out to fleece your brother

or drag him down into the moral depravity you evi-

Nicola
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23

dently fear. In fact, I am not in the employ of the

Archangel Club at all...’ She hesitated for a fraction

of a second, for that was not entirely correct, and Lu-

cas pounced.

‘Why the hesitation, Miss Raleigh? You had almost

convinced me there...’

Rebecca shrugged angrily. ‘Very well. The reason

that I am in this carriage is that I have undertaken a

piece of engraving work for the Archangel Club. I

have a commission from them—’ She broke off as she

saw Lucas’s expression of sardonic amusement.

‘A commission,’ he murmured. ‘I suppose one

might call it that.’

‘I do not see why I have to protest my virtue to you,

my lord!’ Rebecca said hotly. ‘It is none of your busi-

ness.’

‘Indeed, you have no need to protest at all, Miss

Raleigh,’ Lucas agreed smoothly. ‘Not when there are

easier ways to prove your innocence.’

Before she could guess his intentions, he took her

hand in his and with studied deliberation stripped off

her glove. His gesture was so sudden and so sensually

provocative that Rebecca gasped. She tried to with-

draw her hand, but Lucas held it firmly between both

of his, running his fingers over her skin with the light-

est of strokes. His touch was cool and she felt the

effect of it jolt right through her body. The colour

flooded her face; her nerves prickled. She was unable

to repress a shiver.

‘You will see that they are not the hands of a lady,’

she said, ‘but an artisan.’

Her voice came out a little huskily and she hoped

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The
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Mistress

that Lucas had not noticed. He was insufferably ar-

rogant as it was, without giving him the advantage.

He looked up and met her gaze, and Rebecca real-

ised that it was a vain hope. Lord Lucas Kestrel was

quite experienced enough with women to know when

he had an effect upon them. She could see it in his

eyes.

His thumb was stroking her palm gently now, send-

ing flickers of feeling along her skin. ‘I agree that they

are the hands of someone who works for a living,’ he

agreed softly. ‘That does not make you any less of a

lady, Miss Raleigh.’

‘I do not wish to discuss semantics with you, my

lord,’ Rebecca said. ‘In fact, I do not wish to discuss

anything at all. However, I will accept an apology.’

Lucas gave her a very straight look. There was the

very faintest hint of a smile in the depths of his eyes

and Rebecca’s insides trembled. She was aware of an

insidious feeling of attraction growing between them

and fought against it wholeheartedly. Lord Lucas Kes-

trel was clearly a dangerous man.

‘You have it, Miss Raleigh,’ he said softly. ‘My

most humble apologies.’

Rebecca drew her hand from his grasp and cleared

her throat.

‘I think that it is time for you to go now, my lord.’

She rapped on the roof of the carriage. ‘Stop, please!

Lord Lucas will be leaving us here.’

She half-expected the Archangel’s coachman to ig-

nore her command, but the carriage slowed obediently

to a halt. Lord Lucas was not so biddable. He sat

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25

watching her, a challenge in his gaze as though he

were defying her to throw him out bodily.

‘What, are you to abandon me here?’

‘I am certain that you will be able to navigate the

streets of London better than your brother,’ Rebecca

said sweetly, ‘and since I have no desire to remove

your clothes you will not be in need of begging a cloak

from a kindly traveller.’

Lucas grinned. ‘You put ideas into my head, Miss

Raleigh.’

Rebecca blushed. The ideas were in her head as

well, erotic and disturbing, no matter that she tried to

ignore them.

‘Disabuse yourself of them, my lord. I will bid you

good night.’

Lucas held her gaze for a long moment. There was

something lazy but watchful about his scrutiny. ‘I am

not entirely sure that I wish to go, Miss Raleigh,’ he

murmured.

Rebecca slipped her free hand into her reticule. Her

fingers closed around the cold, reassuring shape of her

engraving scribe. She whipped it out and levelled it at

his throat. ‘Allow me to encourage your departure, my

lord.’

‘The devil!’ Lucas’s eyes lit with unholy amuse-

ment. He kept his gaze on the wickedly sharp diamond

point. ‘What is that?’

‘A diamond-pin scribe for cutting glass. I use it for

the very profession you derided a short while ago.’

Rebecca touched the point of the pin with one gloved

finger. ‘Diamonds are the hardest substance known to

man, my lord.’

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Lucas rubbed his chin ruefully. ‘Then it seems that

you have something in common with them, Miss Ra-

leigh.’

‘I do not think that you should be in any doubt of

my profession now, nor of my sincerity in wishing you

gone,’ Rebecca said.

‘No, indeed.’ Lucas’s gaze came up to her face and

he smiled again, a real smile, wholly disarming, seri-

ously dangerous. Rebecca felt her pulse skip. He in-

clined his head in a gesture of acknowledgement.

‘Very well, Miss Raleigh, I shall leave you, but I shall

see that your property is returned to you, all the same.’

‘Please do not trouble yourself,’ Rebecca said.

‘It is no trouble. Cloaks are expensive commodities,

particularly for a lady obliged to earn her own living.

I shall return it in person.’

Rebecca felt her temper flicker again. ‘Pray save

yourself a tiresome task, my lord, and send a servant

with it. That would surely be more appropriate.’

She saw Lucas’s amusement that he had got under

her skin. ‘That would be too shabby. Will you furnish

me with your direction, Miss Raleigh?’

‘Certainly not,’ Rebecca said.

Lucas sighed. ‘I shall find it out anyway.’

‘But not from me.’

Lucas sighed again. ‘Then I shall leave you, Miss

Raleigh, with the promise to see you again soon.’

He opened the door of the carriage and sprang down

without bothering to lower the steps. Rebecca’s last

view of him was a tall figure standing beneath the

street lamp, a dusting of raindrops already on his hair.

She sat back as the carriage moved off again and

Nicola
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27

gave a huge sigh. She did not regret helping Stephen

Kestrel for he seemed a pleasant enough young man.

His elder brother was another matter. Forceful, confi-

dent, with a face like a fallen angel and a touch that

threatened to overset all good sense... Rebecca shook

her head. She had a rule about staying away from gen-

tlemen like Lucas Kestrel, men who were rakish and

dangerous and who could spell disaster for a woman

who had her own way to make in the world.

She hoped that he would not seek her out again.

She knew he would.

Lucas Kestrel stood on the wet pavement and

looked about himself in some perplexity. He realised

that he had no notion where he was. He had spent the

entire journey with his attention focussed on Miss Re-

becca Raleigh to the exclusion of all else. They could

have been halfway down the London to Brighton road

for all he knew. He could not remember the last time

that had happened to him when he had been in con-

versation with a woman.

He started walking. He knew that he would soon

see a familiar landmark. Having navigated his regi-

ment across half of Egypt, he had no concern that he

would get lost in the outskirts of London. The only

thing that he regretted was failing to put a coat on.

That showed lack of foresight. He had not thought that

Miss Raleigh would occupy him for long and certainly

had not foreseen that she would throw him out of her

coach and leave him to walk home.

A rueful smile tugged at his mouth. He found Miss

Rebecca Raleigh a fascinating combination of confi-

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Mistress

dence and vulnerability, strength and innocence. When

he had first set eyes on her he had felt her gaze like

a physical blow to the heart. He had never known

anything quite like it.

He had had ample proof that night that Miss Raleigh

was no Cyprian. Despite the misleading circumstance