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

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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.

      To be plain, he wanted to know more of her. Once they were bedded, he doubted not, he would become bored. Putting Clarissa from him when their kiss got so out of hand, when she had rubbed so sinuously against the throbbing evidence of his desire as to almost overset him, had not been easy. But passion was enhanced by anticipation, so postponement there would be—for a day or so, at least. Pouring the last of the claret into his glass, Kit looked up to find Clarissa’s green eyes fixed on him with resolution. ‘Speak, fair

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