The Rake's Redemption Read online

  “Dom!” Freddie hailed from the hallway.

  “In here, Freddie,” Dominic answered, leaning back to stretch at ease in one of the comfortable armchairs set around the fireplace in the taproom of the Blue Boar.

  Freddie’s face was flushed with impatience. “Dom, the horses are standing. If we’re to be in London by tonight, we should leave.”

  “I think we’ll stay here for the night.” He slowed his voice to its habitual drawl. “The ale is quite good.”

  “And Juliana’s a dashed pretty girl,” Freddie snapped back.

  Dominic lifted one eyebrow sardonically. The disdain written across his face was not wasted on his best friend.

  Sighing, Freddie shrugged. “You’re right, of course. It’d be damn ungallant of us to leave before the poor girl’s even awake.”

  Consciousness returned with the scent of roses. Juliana opened her eyes to the late afternoon sun slanting through small window panes in a room she had never seen before. Turning her head wearily, she found with relief that the terrible pain was gone and saw her aunt sitting, peacefully knitting, in front of a stone fireplace.

  Memory returned to her and with it a curious dread that she had taken the first step down an unfamiliar and frightening path. Where was she? And how did she come to be in this pleasant low-ceilinged bedchamber?

  Anxiety made her sit up suddenly, glancing around for her blue merino traveling gown. “Where are we? And how did I get here?”

  Sophia looked at her as if it was the most normal thing in the world for her to awaken in a strange bed with nothing but her chemise covering her.

  “You are awake at last, love.”

  “What happened! And where are my clothes?” she asked in alarm.

  “One question at a time,” laughed Sophia. “We are at the Blue Boar Inn. And the Marquis of Aubrey carried you here.”

  “The marquis carried me!” Juliana sunk back onto the surprisingly soft pillows, a groan rising in her throat.

  A smile came into Sophia’s eyes. “Well, yes. He could hardly do less after you so neatly fainted right into his arms.”

  “I felt sure it was only a dream,” she mused in a hopeful voice, “that at one point I appeared to enjoy being carried.”

  Sophia gave her head a small shake.

  “I thought as much.” Juliana closed her eyes, a wave of acute, hot embarrassment making her again feel ill.

  She felt Sophia sit on the side of the bed. “No need for worry, love,” her aunt said, gently stroking back Juliana’s tousled auburn curls and touching with great care the sore spot on her temple. “When we discovered the lump on your forehead, we realized you were not yourself.”

  “I have a lump on my forehead!” Juliana’s lids flew open. “Tell me the truth, Aunt Sophia. Do I also have a black eye?”

  “I do detect a bruise over your eyebrow, my dear. But nothing to signify.”

  She had never been overly vain, but the vision of confronting the splendor of the Marquis of Aubrey and his friend Lord Liscombe with a great lump upon her head, and an unsightly bruise above her eye lowered her spirits considerably. The happy thought came to her that, perhaps, they had already departed. When asked, Sophia brightened with a smile.

  “Of course not, love. They were both most concerned about you.” Patting Juliana’s hand she rose from the bed. “When I’m downstairs preparing your gruel, I will inform them that you are awake. And I’ll tell Mrs. Forbes that her headache potion was successful.”

  Her aunt moved briskly toward the door. “Aunt Sophia, who is Mrs. Forbes?”

  Sophia drew back into the room and clapped her hands in delight. “She is a marvel, my dear! I was quite frantic when you fainted, but she took one look at you and declared her potion would cure you. And so it has. Before we leave, remind me to get the recipe.”

  Juliana lay back, dazed by her aunt’s bright spirits, and fell promptly asleep.

  A short time later the door opened waking her instantly. Sophia came in bearing a tray with a bowl, a spoon, a pristine white napkin, and a single, perfect red rose. She set the tray across Juliana’s lap and handed her the napkin. Juliana noticed an unusual sparkle in her aunt’s normally serene gray eyes.

  She hesitated, but couldn’t keep herself from asking, “Wherever did you find such a lovely rose?”

  “I did not,” replied her aunt. “Freddie asked for permission to cut it from Mrs. Forbes’s rose garden, which is below our window. I thought it quite sweet of him.”

  The marquis’s marvelous face flashed through her mind, and Juliana was aware of a slight feeling of disappointment, but she instantly put such thoughts from her. “Yes, very considerate,” she said brightly. “But, Aunt, when did you begin calling Lord Liscombe, Freddie?”

  “Oh, we are quite comfortable with one another now, my dear. You were asleep for several hours, you know. I allow them to call me Sophia. And they have asked me to call them Freddie and Dominic … you know, Juliana,” her aunt stood, chewing on her lower lip, a habit she had whenever her memory failed her. “Dominic reminds me of someone. Something in the way he speaks or moves. And his name … I’m sure it has a familiar ring to it.” A frown marred her pleasant countenance. “I have this dreadful feeling that it is extremely important for me to remember where I have heard of him.”

  The next morning Sophia was still trying to recall why Dominic seemed so familiar. Juliana was tempted to tell her that the marquis was not the kind of man who could be easily forgotten, but decided not to feed her aunt’s interest. To tell the truth, she could not share Sophia’s excitement that their two rescuers were still in attendance. She was not a fanciful young woman; indeed, her father had often told her she was alarmingly pragmatic, but she found the marquis … unsettling. Which was why she felt shy at the breakfast hour, even though she had pinched her cheeks so that they had a tinge of color and had skillfully pulled an auburn curl forward to hide both her lump and bruise. She found the marquis and Lord Liscombe in the small private parlor with her aunt, who had preceded her by a few minutes, when Juliana felt the need to spend a bit more time on her toilette.

  “We have been waiting for you, love.” Both gentlemen rose to their feet as Sophia gestured toward the chair nearest her.

  Lord Liscombe eyed her with undisguised appreciation, which did bring back a little of her usual confidence. “Good morning, Juliana.”

  The marquis sketched a bow and Juliana, her face feeling stiff from her forced smile, sat down next to her aunt.

  “We have just been sampling Mrs. Forbes’s marvelous tea. The woman is a genius in the kitchen,” Sophia remarked serenely.

  “I’d say so,” promptly replied Lord Liscombe. “Dominic offered her a place in charge of his kitchen in town, but she turned him down. Flat!” Crowing with laughter, Freddie’s round hazel eyes were as bright as new buttons. “Even the legendary Aubrey charm couldn’t change her mind.”

  “Indeed!” Relaxing a bit more, Juliana glanced at the marquis and found it difficult to believe any woman could refuse him when he set out to be charming.

  Dominic Crawford, Marquis of Aubrey, heir to one of England’s oldest and wealthiest dukedoms, felt his boredom lift. There was a decided sparkle of amusement in Juliana’s lovely eyes, and his interest, tickled at the first sight of her and aroused when she cuddled in his arms like a purring kitten, had been most definitely caught. He placed his cup firmly on its saucer. “Yes. She informed me that she could not allow herself to be dictated to by a demanding schoolboy.”

  “Schoolboy!” Juliana’s perfect brows rose in apparent delight to meet her glossy curls. He could still remember the fragrance of her hair, fresh, clean, and slightly perfumed when it had fallen over his chest.

  His lips twitched and his eyes watched the play of emotions across her face. “Yes. Mrs. Forbes is our innkeeper’s grandmothe
r. Not his wife. She views all of us in much the same way she does Robbie.” Seeing Juliana’s inquiring look, he added, “Mr. Forbes. His grandmother refers to him either as Robbie or lad.”

  The marquis remarked that in many ways Mrs. Forbes was a great deal like his own grandmama. Juliana was never to discover where this interesting thought might have led, for the parlor door opened and a robust young serving girl carrying an enormous tray entered. Kidneys grilled to perfection, succulent chops, eggs plucked fresh from the henhouse that very morning, flaky, marvelous-smelling rolls, jams and jellies, and more of Mrs. Forbes’s strong, rich tea was laid out before them.

  Some time later, Sophia sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That was truly wonderful. I shall miss Mrs. Forbes’s tea. I do hope she will share that secret with me.”

  Juliana laid down her napkin, feeling much stronger after eating, ready to again take charge. “Recipes will wait, Aunt Sophia. First we must inquire from Benjamin about our coach.”

  “I’ve already spoken to him,” Dominic stated, causing Juliana’s eyes to widen in surprise. Her first assumption had been correct. The man was overbearing! If he sensed her surprise at his presumption, it did not seem to bother him in the slightest, for he continued in the same casual voice. “A new pole is needed. The wheelwright told Benjamin it will take at least two days to repair. But I would be happy to send to London for one of my own coaches. It could be here by tomorrow morning.”

  A faint clucking from Sophia indicated her dismay, but Juliana lifted her chin, returning the marquis’s level look. “Thank you, my lord. But we would not think of inconveniencing you. Aunt Sophia and I shall be quite comfortable here until our coach is repaired.”

  “Whatever will you do to amuse yourselves for two days?” Freddie asked in frank bewilderment.

  “We shall walk in the lovely gardens I saw below my bedroom window, copy Mrs. Forbes’s excellent recipes, perhaps, even picnic in the woods. It shall be quite pleasant!” Juliana declared, glaring at the marquis, defying him to disagree.

  A smile played at the corners of Dominic’s lips. Juliana was not in the usual fashion of women of his acquaintance. That in itself was an enticement. “Indeed, Juliana, that sounds most intriguing. So much so, that I believe Freddie and I will break our journey here for a day or two.”

  At his words Juliana’s face became a delight, the long-lashed slanting eyes widened and her luscious, full lower lip fell open slightly.

  Freddie directed an astonished look at him, which he blandly returned. “But Timmings only packed three fresh neck cloths! Told you it wasn’t a good idea to send Pringle and Timmings ahead to London from Carstair’s hunting box.” He gestured toward Dominic. “Of course, you as creator of the Aubrey Nonpareil haven’t a problem. But I need Timmings’s touch to accomplish a respectable fold.”

  Sophia smiled complacently. “Nonsense, Freddie. Your cravat is all we could ask for. Besides, our lady’s maid has gone ahead of us, too. So we can be quite comfortable and informal here.”

  “Sophia is right, Freddie. And if need be, I’ll teach you my trick for the Waterfall,” Dominic offered lazily.

  Freddie’s response was ludicrously serious. “Is that so, Dom? Why now after all the times I’ve asked before?”

  “Because it pleases me now. As it pleases me to stay here with this charming company. After all, there is nothing pressing to attend to in London.” It was true. The endless soirees, gaming halls, and bagnios in which he sought surcease were not of the least importance.

  Juliana was a dazzler, and she intrigued him. She appeared to know nothing about him, so for these few days he would allow himself the pleasure of her company. No doubt, by then he would have his answer. She was either an exceptional actress who was playing her cards just right to interest him, or she would reveal herself to be as boring as all the other women of his acquaintance. Then he would be eager for London. But not just yet.

  His eyes encountered Sophia’s for a fleeting instant, just long enough for him to catch the glimmer of her amused smile. She rose from the table, picking out the folds of her gown. “That will be quite pleasant, Dominic. Now, I believe I shall begin in the kitchen with Mrs. Forbes. She spoke of gathering herbs that I might take to London with me.” She turned to her niece. “There is a stone bench in the center of the garden. You should rest there in the sun this morning, love, but be sure to take your sunshade.”

  Doing his best to engage Juliana’s attention, Freddie hovered beside her. “I would be most happy…”

  “To assist Sophia in gathering herbs,” finished Dominic, a man famed for his sword play.

  Freddie shot him a withering look, which had no affect whatsoever. Dominic sat draped back in his chair, his long legs stretched in front of him.

  With a nearly inaudible sigh, Freddie offered Sophia his arm and swept her out of the room, casting a last exasperated look at Dominic before shutting the parlor door with a bit more force than absolutely necessary.

  Finding himself alone with Juliana, a situation no chaperon in London would have allowed for an instant, especially given his reputation, Dominic was surprised to see her square her shoulders and look straight into his eyes. She looked proud, resentful, and begrudgingly grateful. She looked like a ruffled kitten.

  “I would like to take this opportunity to thank you, my lord, for your assistance yesterday,” she said properly.

  “It was my pleasure.” He deliberately kept his face and voice utterly innocent, but still a rush of color stained her lovely cheeks. He thought perhaps she recalled how she had snuggled against him, apparently enjoying being carried so intimately by a stranger.

  Nodding, she stood and moved quickly away from the table, but in one fluid motion he was in front of her. He could not allow her to leave him so quickly. Smiling, he took her hand leading her through the door, down the hall, and out into the sunlight before she quite realized what was happening.

  Mrs. Forbes’s garden was one of the loveliest spots Juliana had ever seen. Pink, white, and yellow roses climbed the low rosy brick wall of the courtyard. A burst of blue and white asters bordered the kitchen garden, so the scent of flowering trees, roses, and herbs mingled warmly.

  Goodness, Juliana, what are you doing! she scolded herself and hastily withdrew her fingers from his firm grasp where she had allowed them to rest. She seated herself on the cool stone bench, clasped her hands in her lap, and raised her eyes calmly to his face. “Thank you, my lord marquis.”

  He gave her another slow—Juliana blushed to even think it—beckoning smile. “Will you object to my sitting with you for a moment?” he asked. She moved slightly to make room when he sat crowding the bench. He half turned toward her. “I trust you are feeling no more ill effects from your accident.”

  “No, indeed! Last night Mrs. Forbes sent me a sleeping draught so that when I awoke this morning I felt as good as new.” She looked solemnly back into his arresting face and tried not to let it affect her pulse. “And, of course, Aunt Sophia’s first bowl of gruel always has amazing restorative properties … for one lives in mortal fear of the second.”

  Cornflower blue eyes lit with amusement. He reached toward her. Unable to help herself, Juliana stiffened, but he appeared not to notice as he plucked a rose from the bush directly behind her right shoulder.

  The marquis smiled with luxurious charm, placing the pink rose, drops of dew still clinging to its petals, or her lap. “I prefer to deliver my flowers in person.” His deep, rich voice made her feel decidedly warm.

  “It is very lovely. Thank you,” she murmured, raising the bloom to her lips. She had no idea why she should find it so difficult to behave normally around this man. After all, she was no green miss. She had been married!

  Suddenly, from behind a clump of berry bushes, a tiny birdlike woman carrying an enormous garden basket appeared. The marquis rose to his feet gi
ving the woman a smile that was, no doubt, famous throughout England. Although it had not been directed at Juliana, she felt its tug. Where was the arrogant, overbearing marquis? At the moment he looked very much like a sweet, slightly mischievous boy whom she wanted to hug. The woman with the garden basket obviously did not share her feelings.

  She gave a crack of laughter. “Don’t try your tricks with me, young lord. Won’t work.” Her mouth curved into a grin, causing her brown face to crease into a network of tiny lines. “Although you are bonny. More so than most.”

  Bowing deeply, the marquis took her thin, heavily veined fingers to his lips. “You are a joy, Mrs. Forbes. May I present Juliana, Sophia’s niece.”

  Juliana had guessed that this woman could be none other than the redoubtable Mrs. Forbes. The vivid, dark brown eyes that surveyed her face were full of a lively intelligence. “Glad to meet you, young lady. I see my herb drink helped you.”

  “Very much! Thank you. I am most sorry for any inconvenience we have caused you.”

  “Nonsense,” replied Mrs. Forbes in a practical spirit. “Good to have you young people here. Sophia’s in the kitchen brewing up a sleeping draught now. Lord Liscombe is with her. That’s why I came out here looking for these.” She held out a palm full of garlic bulbs. “That young lord shows too many late nights and too many bottles of brandy. I have just the potion for him.”

  Juliana carefully controlled her face when Mrs. Forbes’s eyes flickered across it and then to Dominic, whose unholy grin was nearly her undoing.

  “Come along, both of you. Elixir must be brewed before you leave for London.” Mrs. Forbes shook her head with such vigor, her large bun of grizzled white hair jiggled precariously. “Terrible place the city. Terrible!”