Date with a Regency Rake: The Wicked Lord Rasenby / The Rake's Rebellious Lady

‘Yes, and I heard you the first time. I am not dim-witted, Clarissa, I do understand simple English.’

His bland tone provoked rather than calmed her. ‘Then you will understand the simple fact that we must leave at once and return to London, sir.’ This, through gritted teeth. ‘I would not wish to be at odds with you, but we seem to have rather different interpretations of the phrase a short drive in the park.’

He smiled at this sally, but she received no other response. Kit seemed more intent on the refreshing draught of ale he had poured himself, and the warmth of the fire. His very indifference made her throw caution to the winds. Clarissa stamped her foot in a fair imitation of her sister that very morning, had she been inclined to notice. It did not occur to her, however, so intent was she on gaining Kit’s attention. She really needed to get back home.

‘If you will not rouse yourself from your beer, then I will just have to commandeer a carriage myself.’ She had nowhere near sufficient funds in her purse to do so, but she tried not to think about that obstacle for the moment. Clarissa moved purposefully to the looking glass above the fire in order to adjust the strings of her bonnet.

He moved like a cat. One second he was lolling in a hard wooden chair, drinking from a brimming tankard, the next he was on his feet, standing all too close, his presence dominating her slim form, his face not angry exactly but stern. Forbidding. The full extent of her predicament struck Clarissa forcibly. No one knew where she was or who she was with. She had little money. And this man, this impossibly attractive, intimidating, overpoweringly strong man, was in full command of the situation. Nervously, Clarissa licked her dry lips, and decided to try a different tack.

‘You are teasing me, Kit, I know you are. But really, the joke has gone too far. I must go home now. We have agreed terms. You are happy with my proposal, you said so yourself. You’ll be wanting your dinner soon. And surely your horses will be rested by now. You will no doubt wish to have a think about our adventure too, to spend some time planning it. So we should go now, and make arrangements to meet in a few days. Should we not?’ Her voice faltered, seeing no change on his face, no response at her attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Kit?’

He was looking down at her, scrutinising her closely. There was confusion and fear lurking in her wide-open green eyes. He knew perfectly well what she was thinking, for he had fully intended to frighten her just a little, to let her know that whatever her game was, she wasn’t going to have it all her own way. But he had been unprepared for this feeling of pity, tenderness even, that her fear invoked. With difficulty, Kit resisted the sudden urge to reassure her, to soothe her anxiety. He reminded himself that she was an excellent actress. All the talk of Mama, the show of bravado, even the slight tremble of that full, sensuous bottom lip. Really, Mrs Siddons could not have acted better than this wench. She had no need of tenderness.

Grasping her small determined chin, he moved closer, feeling her light breath on his hand, inhaling that alluring combination of roses and vanilla. His thumb stroked the corner of her mouth, and ran over her full bottom lip. She was staring up at him, those huge green eyes pleading, the lashes so dark and long that she must employ some artifice, no matter how natural they looked. He could drown in those eyes. For a timeless moment they stood thus, Clarissa silently pleading, Kit coolly assessing, implacable.

‘Kit, please take me home.’ Her words were spoken softly, a gentle request, for somehow she was no longer frightened.

‘I’m not planning to abduct you Clarissa, although I know you fear that is my intention. I have no need to take you by force. Anything we do together, you’ll do willingly or not at all. I would not have it any other way, and you know it.’ As he spoke, Kit pulled Clarissa to him, holding her with one hand lightly by the waist. ‘You can leave directly, only say the word. Ask me again, I’ll take you home and we can forget everything. Our adventure. Our kisses. The union of our bodies will be consigned for ever to our imaginations. It will be as if we had never met. We can forgo it all, Clarissa, if you tell me that is what you truly desire.’

The closeness of their bodies invoked memories of last night. His words were a whisper on her face. His mouth, his tempting, cool, hot mouth, was inches away. His thumb continued its slow, languorous caress as he spoke, the line of her jaw, back to her mouth, over the planes of her cheek. Brushing gently. Soothing her. Distracting her. Hypnotising her. But the clasp on her waist remained light. She could leave now, she believed him. Instead of turning away, Clarrie moved forwards, drawn closer as if mesmerised, casting aside all doubts and reservations, any sense of the danger of her situation, in the need to taste him once more.

Her tongue flicked over the tip of Kit’s thumb. And flicked over it again, her teeth just grazing the skin, before she closed her lips around it and sucked with a slow, sensuous and purely instinctive movement. She sucked harder, drawing the length of his finger into her mouth, closing her eyes to delight all the more in the sensations it was arousing all over her body. She moaned slightly as his finger was withdrawn, only to purr with satisfaction when it was replaced by the lips she craved.

Opening her mouth to receive his kiss, Clarrie gave a mewl of frustration as Kit’s lips moved slowly, deliberately, delicately, when she wanted hard, hot, fast. Reaching up to pull his head down more firmly, relishing the rough graze of his chin on her tender skin, Clarrie drew tight against his hard, aroused body, and stopped thinking. Their kiss deepened, rocketing her body temperature, causing the flames that had flickered somewhere in her belly to strengthen and focus lower down. She could feel the male hardness of him between her thighs through the delicate wool of her walking dress, and tilted slightly to press herself against him.

The action was too much for Kit’s self-control. Suddenly she was free, a cold distance between them, the room silent save for their ragged breathing. The flame of passion was replaced by a deep blush of shame.

Clarrie looked up to find Kit’s eyes on her, that sardonic, devilish look of his accentuated by his slightly raised brow, the half-smile on his mouth. ‘Well? Are you going to persist in your demands to be taken back to your mama? Have you decided, after all, that to deal with so notorious a rake as me is just a mite too dangerous? Speak now, Clarissa, or for ever hold your peace. Is it to be safe home? Or is it to be onwards into the unknown with me? Think carefully, for if you choose onwards, my bold Clarissa, your adventure begins this very day.’

Chapter Five

What on earth had she done? Clarrie wondered. Broken all her resolutions, and some she hadn’t even thought she’d need to make, for a start. Betrayed by her own body, tricked by her own desires, she had placed herself in a position of real peril. She had thrown herself—quite literally—at this man, when only moments before she had been terrified of abduction, and protesting her innocence. Clarissa turned to look bleakly out of the window. How stupid her plans had been. How poorly she understood her own true nature. A few hours in his company, and here she was launching herself at Kit like one possessed. If she persisted in such brazen behaviour, he would tire of her far too quickly and return to his pursuit of Amelia, and then she’d have sacrificed herself for nothing.

Leaning her hot cheeks against the cool of the glass, Clarissa realised that her scathing denunciations of romantic heroines had been naïve in the extreme. Here she was with a notorious rake, and succumbing to his charms—nay, hurling herself wholeheartedly at them— with nary a thought for the consequences. Stupid, stupid Clarissa!

As if that wasn’t enough, she had walked with eyes wide open into this impossible situation. A situation, she was forced to acknowledge, of her own making. She had asked for an adventure. It was natural to assume that adventures involved surprise, and foolish of her to suppose that one so impetuous as Kit would do anything other than rise immediately to her challenge.

What on earth was she going to do? Return home and forget her plan? Clarissa had no doubt that Kit would take her back if she wished. He might be a rake, but he was an honest one, she was sure of it. He said he would not abduct her against her will and she believed him. But to return home was to put an end to everything. She would have failed in her attempts to save Amelia. And she would never see Kit again. Never. At the thought, a huge chasm seemed to open at her feet. Never share a joke with him. Never test her wit against his. Never see that smile, so rarely given, of genuine amusement, which lit up his face, changing him from devilish to absurdly, overwhelmingly handsome. Never taste his lips on hers. Never feel his hard body pressed against hers.

Reminding herself that she had no intention of succumbing to more intimate advances did not prevent Clarrie from craving more of the forbidden fruit she had already tasted. Surely a few more kisses would be no compromise? Surely a few more hours, a few more days in his company, would satisfy her, and suffice to save her sister? Suffice to subdue this fire. Surely a better acquaintance with Kit would cure her of this irrational infatuation? A surfeit of his presence would ensure she saw him in a more rational light, and would have the happy consequence of doing Amelia good too.

Lost in her thoughts, Clarissa stared unseeingly out of the window. Kit watched, judging it best to give her this time to adjust her thinking, refusing to attempt further persuasion. She would come, of that he was certain. She would accede to his terms. He had neither the desire nor the need for an abduction. She would come. He was sure of it.

Checking his watch, he tugged the bell by the fireplace, summoning the landlady. ‘We will dine in twenty minutes. You’ll oblige me by bringing some writing materials immediately, and some brandy too.’ The woman curtsied and left.

‘Dine?’ The words startled Clarissa from her musings.

‘Yes. I know it’s early, but we have a long journey ahead of us. If you’re not hungry now, you should be. And I’m ravenous.’

‘But we can’t be much more than an hour from town. I’d rather wait if you don’t mind, Kit.’

‘We’re not going back to London. I had credited you with more wit than that, Clarissa. You demanded an adventure, but you also demanded secrecy you may recall. You may not be particularly well known in town, but I am. How can we conduct any sort of private liaison with the eyes of the world upon us?’

‘Yes, I suppose—that is, I had not thought …’

‘You had not thought? I find that difficult to believe. Well, you can think now. We are not going back to London unless it is to abandon all. And if we are to continue, we must dine. So Clarissa, for the last time, do you wish to continue?’ He was growing weary of her prevaricating. Had she not been so very tempting, he would have readied them both for the journey home with no regrets. But he was finding her inordinately tempting.

And he wanted, more than he realised, for their liaison to continue. ‘Well?’

It was yes. It had to be yes, she knew that. But some instinct for self-preservation made her stall. ‘What about Mama? I can’t just disappear. She’ll be beside herself with worry.’ Actually, Mama would probably indulge in a fit of the vapours, then simply assume Clarissa had forgotten to inform her of a visit to Aunt Constance, but that was neither here nor there.

‘You can write her a note. You forget, I am already familiar with your ability to deceive. How else did you manage to escape your mama’s tender care for two evenings in a row, and on your own? I am sure you can think of something to allay her fears.’

‘Yes, but why the need for haste? I don’t understand, Kit, why could you not have informed me in advance of your arrangements, then I could have been prepared, packed a bag, told Mama some tale. Surely there was no need for such a rush?’

‘Where would be the adventure then? You wanted a surprise, something memorable—you were most specific. Isn’t the unexpected part of the thrill?’ Kit had been sitting by the fire, watching her from a distance, but now he moved to stand beside her at the window. His voice became huskier as he looked at the small, defiant, and strangely alluring woman at his side. ‘The kisses you bestowed so willingly a few moments ago, my lovely Clarissa, simply confirmed what I already knew. I wish to have the preliminaries of our liaison over as soon as possible in order to enjoy the fruits of my labour more quickly. Your charms, as I am sure you are perfectly well aware, are considerable, and I wish to wait no longer than necessary to sample them more fully. I was persuaded by our kiss last night you know, although your reminder was very pleasant—I thank you.’ A brief, ironic bow accompanied this last remark.

‘I’m sorry, I hadn’t meant to—I don’t know what came over me.’

‘No? Well, whatever it was, I’m grateful. But it might be best to save it until a more convenient time. You won’t have to wait long, Clarissa, never fear. Nor will there be any gainsaying me when it happens. Once I have fulfilled my part of the bargain, I won’t let you renege on yours.’

The glint in his eye was uncompromising. She had known it from the start, he was not a man to cross. Yet she had tried to ensnare him. He had pulled the ground from beneath her feet, but still she fought to recover it, as a general rallies his troops even at the eleventh hour. ‘You are premature, my lord. I won’t go back on my promise, but I must remind you that you have an obligation to fulfil first. My adventure, lest you need reminding.’

‘Strangely, Clarissa, I need no reminding at all. Your adventure has already started. Had you not realised?’

‘I had not mere abduction in mind, and well you know it. I particularly remember, for ‘twas but last night, that we said it should be fun. Lest it has escaped your notice, this is not fun for me, and I am not enjoying myself. So you must try harder, sir, or you will have failed.’

‘This is no mere abduction madam, I assure you. No matter what you may think of my morals, or lack of them, I pride myself on my finesse, as you will find out when the time comes for me to bed you. No, this is but the preliminary to the fun you are so intent on receiving.’

He was angry, frustrated at her refusal to give an inch, unused to being cross-questioned. It made him all the more determined that she would comply. With an effort, Kit bit down on his temper, deciding wisely that an explanation would be more likely to result in cooperation.

‘We drive tonight to the coast, and thence we board my yacht, the Sea Wolf. You seemed so interested in the plight of the French refugees that it seemed only fair to allow you to experience first hand the kind of daring rescue mission required to deliver them from the fate that surely awaits them. It is an illicit undertaking which I confess I am intimately familiar with.’

‘Why, Kit, I had no idea you were involved in such work when we discussed it last night. How exciting. And how very noble of you.’

‘Don’t be deluded, Clarissa, there is naught noble in my motives. ‘Tis a sport to me, is all, but I hope it will be an exciting adventure for you. Especially since we’ll be clapped in gaol if we’re caught. I trust you will find the experience fun enough. Now, you may write your note to your concerned mama to ensure you are not looked for. Then we must dine and be on our way.’

Silencing the words of protest forming on her lips with a swift, brutal kiss, Kit grasped Clarissa’s chin and looked straight into her troubled eyes. ‘I will brook no further discussion. Write your note and we shall dine. The innkeeper’s wife is famed for her table, we would not wish to disappoint her.’ A smile curled his sensuous mouth, but did not reach his eyes. ‘And you will need sustenance, my dear, if you are to make the most of your adventure.’

Clarissa vouchsafed no answer, but she sat obediently to write her note, consigning her worries about the future to the back of her mind. Her adventure was indeed about to begin. She might as well make the most of it, now that she was committed.

As Kit had promised, the landlady’s cooking was a delight, but the neat’s-tongue, the platter of delicate sole and the side-dish of artichokes sautéed in butter might as well have been cooked in ashes, for all Clarissa could taste. Conversation was desultory, both Kit and Clarissa being distracted by their own reflections.

Despite his earlier threats, Kit had no wish for an unwilling companion, and no taste for a resistant lover. Watchfully, he poured himself another glass of the excellent claret and waited for Clarissa to come to terms with the situation. She had been bested and she was not happy to have been forced to relinquish the reins, but she was yet determined on her course. She would go along with his scheme, he knew that, yet her real intentions were still unclear.

She was a puzzle, this beautiful woman before him, and one he wished to unravel. Her claims to virtue and the preposterous tale she spun him last night about wishing to enjoy herself before settling to the boredom of matrimony, Kit dismissed out of hand. She was no innocent, that was for sure. And if perchance there was some unsuspecting dotard waiting in the wings to wed her, he was sure she would continue in her scheming, wanton ways, whether she was married or no. Her plotting would come to light in the end, and he would deal with it then. For the present, he resolved simply to enjoy himself as much as possible.

Rather to his own surprise, Kit found himself reconciled to postponing their physical union for the present, content enough as he was with Clarissa’s company. She was challenging. Her habit of speaking without thinking, of never saying quite what he expected, even her frankness, all were a refreshing change. And she seemed to understand him too—her attack on his rakish reputation had so nearly reflected his own cynical view of himself as to make him wonder if she could somehow eavesdrop on his very thoughts.