The Rake Enraptured Read online

  "That I can't say, Miss Preston. No one has seen fit to tell me. I understand the Trent's are expected at the Riversham Ball on the first of August, so they'll likely go South to stay at Riversham house for a couple of days ahead of time as usual."

  "But that's still more than a fortnight away."

  "That it is. Are the guests disrupting the young ones in their studies?"

  "A little. It's more the general . . . turmoil within the house. It's so distracting, I wonder when we'll be done with it."

  "Not past the end of July, I daresay. It's such a congenial party, and everyone finds the house so comfortable," said the woman with some complacency, "people stay longer than they intended. And the Trents do set such a fine table." Unquestionably she accounted this to her own credit.

  "Yes, you are to be congratulated."

  "Oh, I don't know about that, though it's kind of you to say, Miss Preston. I do my best, and I've never heard any complaints."

  "There's no doubt your expert hand is to be seen everywhere. And I'm told you narrowly averted a crisis at supper time last night."

  "Did you hear about that, then? Well, people shouldn't gossip, but I suppose it was a good thing I was there. I can't imagine what Cook was thinking. Tripe, when all the menus had been agreed with Mrs Trent, and everyone's tastes taken into account. That's the problem with importing one of those Frenchies. They may make all the la di da sauces and whatnot to impress the guests, but then they fancy themselves as arteests and above such paltry worries. Well Lord Grayson abominates tripe, as his valet was at pains to let us all know, and there's Mrs Trent so concerned that everything should be done for his comfort. I'm sure I don't know why Mister Lacroix," she mangled the French pronunciation, "took it into his head tripe would be more fitting than trout. Not that there wasn't plenty else to enjoy on the table, for of course there was, but I should have cringed to see Lord Grayson's face when that salver was lifted, nor Mrs Trent's, for that matter. I told Mister Lacroix it wouldn't do, that I did, and I wouldn't hear of his French nonsense to tell me he was ruler of the kitchen."

  "Quite right," Julia murmured.

  "I pulled out the menu, with Mrs Trent's signature and all, and put it under his nose." Mrs Goodall gave a descriptive flourish that contained all the necessary assertion. "There, says I. Do you see. Not tripe, but trout, in cream sauce with capers, and what do you think I care for how fine the tripe is. No that," and here she snapped her fingers, "and so I said."

  "A timely intervention."

  "So I think. No, I won't have some Frenchie lording it above me or above the wishes of the Trents. No."

  "You are a gem."

  "Why Miss Preston, you're that kind," said Mrs Goodall, turning a blotchy pink. She hesitated, as if she would say more, obviously debating within herself, then opened her mouth. "Perhaps I'm speaking out of turn, but I hate to stay silent then be regretful. It's been noticed . . . That is to say . . . I've been told as one of the gentleman has his eye on you. Not . . . a man of the best reputation, if I may make bold to say it. We'd all be glad for you to see you well set up but a young lady ought not . . . Well, I wouldn't trust him, is all. I think-"

  "Thank you, Mrs Goodall. I know you mean well-"

  "I have said too much," Mrs Goodall continued unhappily, "and I never meant to breathe a word. You can trust Miss Preston to have a good head on her shoulders, is what I said, and never you mind what some may think. He won't turn her up sweet with his flattering."

  Julia stared at Mrs Goodall grimly, not really seeing her, wishing Mr Holbrook was immediately available so she could immolate him in oil and set him on fire. "Please don't worry yourself needlessly. I am quite able to manage any unwanted interference."

  "Quite. Yes, of course. Yes. And we shall all hope they'll soon be gone, and we can be peaceful again."

  "I'm sure we shall," said Julia with as much calm as she could muster, and turned blindly away to continue her interrupted journey to the lawn, where Mr Holbrook was playing rounders with her young charges in full sight of the house.

  "Join us, Miss Preston?" he called out the instant she appeared on the terrace.

  "I'm sorry, but no, Mr Holbrook. Unfortunately I must interrupt you-"

  "No, Pressie, don't say so. It's such a beautiful day. It can't be time already."

  "It can and it is, if young men are to learn enough mathematics to do them credit at school. Two more months, Albert. It's not long. Not nearly long enough, at this pace. Amy, Sophie, Elizabeth, you too."

  "We could all go for a walk. You could drill us as we go," Alfred wheedled, casting a look full of cunning at his governess.

  "Yes, please let's walk. Then Mr Holbrook can come too. I'm sure you're a fine mathematician, aren't you, Mr Holbrook?" Amy added.

  Julia shot Mr Holbrook a warning glance, but he only laughed and said, "Not as much as my tutor would have preferred when I was younger, but quite enough for my own needs."

  "There, you see? He can come too," said Amy, pleased by her own plan.

  "Much as I'm sure Mr Holbrook could benefit from a stern lesson or two, I've no desire to interrupt his enjoyment of his day. Inside, if you please."

  When she made the mistake of meeting Mr Holbrook's gaze she instantly regretted it. There was a light in his eyes that was uncomfortable to witness, unpleasantly akin to the one she had surprised there at cards two nights ago. Heat, and approval that she did not understand since she had set herself to be so at odds with him. A kind of hunger and determination that angered her and made her want to squirm with self-consciousness. She wished she did not know what it was like to be close to him in the darkness, for that expression made her think of those moments, of what it felt like to be pressed up against the firm maleness of his body, to be kissed by him and held by him until her head spun.

  She did not like it. No, not at all, and when he looked at her like that her own worse nature ran away with her. Such shocking pictures she could conjure up, that had never had a place in her head before. He was wicked, to inspire such thoughts in her.

  "Please, Pressie. Please, please, please."

  "Enough of this nagging. I have given you my answer. Inside."

  "Oh, don't hound them, Miss Preston," came the jovial voice she immediately recognized as Mr Trent, even before she turned to see him coming up to them, radiating paternal fondness. "Relax your stern rules this once. So little time and Bertie will be at Eton and then there's no more wandering the meadows and paddling in the stream. Childhood is so fleeting. Fleeting. Yes. Take them out in the sunshine, and save the lessons for another day."

  "But Mr Trent, I really think-"

  "You are too dutiful. Children must have time to be children. Run along, all of you. Miss Preston shall preside over fun for once, I command it." He was all benevolence, but even so Julia would not disobey a direct order from him. She was caught.

  "If you'll excuse us, Mr Holbrook,' she said firmly, and gestured the children to their favorite path in a way that deliberately excluded him. He ignored the clear indication and fell into step beside her, trailing the children by a gap that immediately widened. She quickened her pace and he matched her, but the children began to run.

  "Slow down!" she called out, but Amy's laugh ran out, pure mischief, and with their elder sister as the leader the younger three were bold and kept on running.

  "We can catch them," said Mr Holbrook. "Don't give up so easily." She had already slowed, considering the merits of letting them run wild and returning to the house.

  "I think I shall let you go on and enjoy their company. I can think of more worthwhile labors inside, if there are to be no lessons today."

  "Do you abandon duty so swiftly?"

  "I'm no champion of lost causes, Mr Holbrook. I've told you so already."

  "I'm disappointed in you. I thought you made of sterner stuff."

  "Is that a dare? Don't think me made of such paltry material, to be so manipulated." But she walked on, thinking twice about abandoning her w
ork. Best not to be seen wandering about the house idle.

  "Have you enjoyed a pleasant day thus far, Miss Preston?"

  "Tolerable, thank you."

  "It must be delightful to live in the midst of such a beautiful park."

  She mistrusted even his most innocuous small talk. "Yes."

  "Particularly when the weather is as fine as it has been."

  "Really? Are we really to discuss the weather? I thought we had agreed that was paltry."

  "So we had. Are there deeper topics you would like to explore?"

  "With you? No."

  "Only say the word, and I shall attempt to match you on any subject you please. Philosophy, the sciences, even the elusive mathematics."

  "I doubt you have much to say that would be of interest," she condemned him, wishing he would be like any reasonable creature and be repelled rather than amused by such barbs.

  "You don't think I might have devoted my life to study?"

  "Not study of academic subjects, Mr Holbrook."

  "But you think I have studied. In what area do you fancy me an expert?"

  "I think there can be no doubt where your main interests lie."

  "Enlighten me."

  "I won't be drawn into a discussion of them. I have no taste for lewd repartee."

  "Ah. Lewd repartee. So you imagine the only area in which I might excel would be lewd pursuits."

  Julia was silent, trapped once more by him.

  "It is true I might have some modest degree of experience in that field. Still I would consider myself far more the student than the master."

  "Oh please," she exclaimed sardonically. "Spare me the false humility."

  "I am flattered you think so highly of my prowess, on such a brief exposure to it. Obviously I made a considerable impression."

  Again she was quiet, determined not to let him goad her into further indiscretions. She walked more swiftly, her narrow skirts her enemy over the uneven ground of the woodland path. The wilderness was very pretty - lush and green - but she would have given a great deal for it to have been crowded with guests and groundskeepers and the fleet children instead of deserted and silent but for birdsong.

  "I can only imagine what you must have been told, to consistently think me such a dastardly creature. Is the gossip so heinous, then?"

  "There is nothing to be gained from reviewing it. Gossip is an evil thing. I should give it no credence," she said in stiff concession.

  "A human sin. You too may be permitted to err," he said magnanimously.

  "You are too kind."

  "So I've been told."

  When she slanted a suspicious look at him he met her gaze with a wicked glint in his eye that made her think of the most naughty kindnesses a man of his ilk might offer a woman. She stumbled and lowered her eyes to watch the ground before her feet, her palms beginning to sweat.

  "But truly," he said, "I'd like to know, from so relentlessly honest a source as you, what it is they say of me these days."

  "I'd rather not tell you."

  "Why not? Go on."

  "It would be ill-mannered and cruel."

  "That has not stopped you before," he said, and she gaped a little at the challenge of the naked observation. Yes, she had been both ill-mannered and cruel to him, as if he somehow deserved such usage. But then his very nature invited it.

  "It is not usually my habit." It was not quite an apology. More an admission she did not want him to think ill of her. A confounding admission.

  "Ah. So I am a special recipient. Truly I am honored. Pray continue, then. Tell me all."

  "Perhaps I . . . should not have said what I did before. It was very ill bred."

  "Yes. Nonetheless, continue."

  "Will you not stop? I have said I don't want to tell you."

  "And I thought you so impressively bold," he said with a mournful sigh, as if disappointed.

  "You really are a dreadful beast."

  "Is that what they say?"

  "Among other things, she said, exasperated.

  "Such as?"

  "Indiscriminate, was the term I heard."

  "Well that's false. I am very discriminating. Discerning, I would have said." He gave the matter fair consideration. "Definitely discerning."

  "Lewd, also."

  "We've covered that one already."

  "Depraved."

  "What depravities must one indulge in, to qualify as depraved?" he asked politely, his eyebrows raised in innocent enquiry.

  She scowled at him. "I imagine you know rather better than I."

  "Not at all. I have no idea where the boundaries lie. Exactly when is it one moves from natural to depraved?"

  "I think the boundaries are perfectly well known."

  "I would argue not so. It depends on one's position. For instance-"

  "I am not discussing positions with you. Pray refrain from such crudity."

  He laughed. "You misunderstand me. I meant if I take the position that we are all by nature filled with the passions and drives God endowed, then our indulgence of them is not depraved but natural."

  "Such indulgence is intended to be sanctified by the sacrament of marriage."

  "Ah. So anything at all, of any persuasion, may happen within the boundaries of marriage, and cannot be deemed depraved?"

  "That's not what I said."

  "Pardon my misunderstanding. What exactly did you say?"

  "Only that certain things may not happen outside the boundaries of marriage without being depraved."

  "What things?"

  "You know exactly what I mean."

  "You keep saying that, when all I am striving for is an education from one as learned as yourself."

  "I am hardly learned in this particular subject, Mr Holbrook!"

  "And yet you give your opinions so fervently. Am I not to regard you as some sort of authority, then?"

  "Say rather you should let your conscience be your guide."

  "No, that will never work," he said after a moment of solemn contemplation.

  "Pray and ask for guidance, then. Or consult a man of the cloth. I am sure they would be able to lead you far better than I."

  "But I prefer to learn from you. Your lessons are so much more compelling." His deep voice caressed the final word, and she saw in her mind's eye an image of lessons given and received, naked bodies entwined. She swallowed hard against the yearning that rose up in her throat, mute and warm.

  She had to fight to get the words out. "How can you possibly know until you have tried the alternatives?" She could hear how strangled her own voice sounded.

  "I believe I have an instinct for such things. You were about to tell me what cannot occur outside of marriage without the participants becoming depraved."

  "I was not."

  "Are you depraved, Miss Preston?"

  "I should think not!"

  "Then kissing is permissible," he said with a firm nod, as if setting down a new law. "Also intimate touching. Intimate, naked touching."

  "I said no such thing," she declared hotly.

  "But you participated in the same."

  "Rubbish. Never."

  "You did. I was naked, and you touched me. Let your body lie on mine. Don't fret. We have agreed that it was not depraved."

  "I think it was."

  "Oh? Then how is it you engaged in such behavior and yet are not depraved?"

  "Because I did not wish to engage in the behavior."

  "Yet you did not protest. I didn't hold you against your will. There was no struggle. You acquiesced."

  "I did not."

  "You most certainly did. I am very particular about such things."

  "I was dazed. When I was once again thinking straight, I removed myself from the situation."

  "So you weren't thinking straight? How did that come about?"

  "I think you know full well."

  "Explain it to me."

  "I don't think so."

  "Miss Preston," he said in a tone of discovery, "a
re you implying that you were dazed and not thinking straight because of me?"

  "You are very vain. Also misguided."

  "What other cause can there be?"

  "Rack your brains. I'm sure you will think of something. You seem to be perfectly inventive. Also deluded."

  "Depraved and deluded. What a combination. Such a burden to struggle under. Yet I will take comfort that even so encumbered, still I can daze a woman of your caliber."

  "Don't flatter yourself."

  "No flattery. My powers of deductive reasoning are perfectly sound."

  "I beg to differ."

  "There is no need to beg. I prefer my women assertive."

  "What on earth makes you imagine your preferences are of any interest to me?" she demanded, freshly thrilled to think she met his preferences, freshly revolted by her overheated nature.

  "I don't. That was merely offered in the nature of general information."

  "It is completely unnecessary."

  "It appears I like sharp-tongued women more than I ever realized." She pressed her lips together, refusing to rise to the lure. "Who would have thought it? I had always imagined joyful compliance to be the most attractive trait. Now I discover I was deceived."

  "You cannot expect me to imagine you find conversation with me more attractive than any other trait?"

  "Why not?"

  "What happened to discerning? You sound like a fool. Ranking either joyful compliance," she stammered over the evocative term, recovered then continued, "or a sharp tongue over any other consideration."

  "What do you think I should choose?"

  "How on earth should I know?" She threw up her hands.

  "But you clearly have some idea. Tell me, how should I choose?"

  "You ask me for advice on how to choose bed partners? You boggle the mind."

  "Clearly I have been doing it wrong, if it leads to the charge I am indiscriminate and depraved."

  "Depravity has nothing to do with the choice of bed partner-"

  "Oh, now it is I who begs to differ."

  "Mr Holbrook-"

  "Miss Preston. Help me to be more discriminating."