Taming the Rake (23 page)

Gina was surprised by how much the idea of ending her pursuit of Coventry disturbed her. Once again she admitted that Cecelia had been right. Gina had enjoyed herself the past few weeks. The challenge of the hunt had been invigorating; there was nothing boring about Lord Coventry. Pretending to pursue him, upsetting his life of debauchery, trying to convince him that he needed a wife, it had given her a purpose. One that she wasn’t ready to relinquish just yet. She hadn’t achieved her objectives.

But it wasn’t just losing a wager or conceding defeat that bothered her.

She didn’t want to stop seeing him. Didn’t want to stop experiencing that strange surge of energy whenever he stepped into the room. As if every nerve ending buzzed with awareness. No other man had ever made her heart pound and skip with the mere cast of his sultry gaze.

No other man had ever made her weak with desire.

A lump of dread settled low in her belly. Despite all the warnings, after what he’d done, had she actually begun to care for him? Could she really be that foolish?

She shook off the ridiculous notion before it could take root. There were dozens of gentlemen just in this room who were just as handsome and infinitely better choices for a husband. Dozens of men who her father would not refuse.

Determined to find one, she ran through the list of all the unmarried, suitable men swarming about the room before her: There was Lord Percy, Lord Ashley, and Mr. Dashwood. She frowned, knowing they would never do. Like Coventry and Rockingham, they were Hellfire Rakes. Why exchange one set of problems for another?

There was Lord Spencer (too old), Lord Dudley (too cold), Mr. Collins (too boring), the Compte d’Avignon (too foreign), Colonel Damer (too poor), Poodle Byng (too pretty), and Lord Harrowgate (already rejected). Gina bit her lip and surveyed the room again; perhaps she was being too choosey. There was Sir Walter (too short), Mr. Bridges (too thin), Lord Cameron (too florid), and… she couldn’t see anyone else. She felt a moment of panic before forcing herself to calm down. What was wrong with her? Any one of them would do.

Despite her brave thoughts, a feeling of helplessness settled over her. She pretended to join in the laughter at something Lady Penelope said, but her eyes kept darting about, trying to find someone, anyone, with whom she could see herself joined in eternity. Anyone who she could imagine allowing to touch her in the intimate way that Coventry had. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget the exquisite sensations he’d awakened inside her.

“Looking for someone? Perhaps I might be of some help?”

Surprised, Gina turned to find Lord Rockingham at her side. She took in his fine form, exceptionally handsome face, and laughing eyes. Except for his unfortunate choice of friends, Rockingham was otherwise perfect. Surely, kissing him would make her pulse race and her legs weak. Her mouth twisted. “Perhaps you might.”

The sudden heat in his gaze made her blush. “I’m intrigued.”

Embarrassed to have made her thoughts so clear, Gina changed the subject. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“I found myself unable to stay away from your side for one moment longer.” He lowered his voice to avoid the curious ears of her friends who were pretending, not very convincingly, not to listen.

Gina quirked a brow.

He put his hand over his heart. “You wound me, dear lady, with your unfeeling skepticism. What must I do to convince you?”

She laughed. “Tell me the truth. Were the cards unlucky?”

He grinned devilishly. “Very well, oh heartless jade, I have come along at the bequest of a friend, but I was anxious to see you. I called on you earlier but you were not at home. Do you realize it has been seven days since our parting at Newmarket?”

“Seven whole days?”

He sighed dramatically. “An eternity.”

She tried not to smile, but failed. “You’re incorrigible.”

He laughed. “Agreed. Now tell me, how can I be of help? What dragons must I vanquish to win the fair maiden’s heart?”

“Nothing quite so heroic, I’m afraid. I was simply thinking about taking some air in the garden.”

He bowed. “I would be honored to escort you.”

Gina took his arm, made her excuses to her twittering friends, and started across the ballroom toward the wall of glass doors that led to the veranda and garden.

“You seemed to be looking for someone?” Lord Rockingham asked pleasantly.

As she could hardly tell him that she was looking for a better choice of a husband she said, “I’d expected to see Lady Augusta tonight.”

He grinned crookedly. “Then I can truly be of help. Coventry was the friend I spoke of. I arrived with Lady Augusta only moments ago.”

A knot of trepidation twisted in her gut. Knowing what she would see, Gina glanced in the direction that he indicated. The whiplash of pain hit her hard. Looking more handsome than she remembered, Coventry stood near the door with his mother and Augusta, greeting their hosts. All the emotions she’d buried since their interlude in the game room came crashing back in full force. The joy, the awakening, the passion… the cruel devastation.

She remembered what it felt like to be wrapped in his arms, his mouth crushing hers in the heated embrace. She remembered how he tasted, how he smelled, how it felt to caress the hard muscles of his shoulders and arms, how he’d pressed against her. But most of all she remembered how it felt when he’d touched her, when he’d taken her breasts in his mouth, and stroked her with his finger until she’d come apart in his arms.

With all of the uncertainty and vulnerability of that moment exposed to his ruthless scrutiny, he chose that time to meet her gaze.

Perhaps if there had been a flicker of emotion in the bottomless depths of his glacial gaze—anything: uncertainty, compassion, desire—it might have changed her mind. But there was nothing. If he’d cut her with a knife, his feelings could not have been made more clear.

She meant nothing to him.

And if the pain twisting her chest was any indication, he meant much more to her than she wanted to acknowledge. She needed to clear the memories of their liaison from her head. To prove to herself that he’d simply unleashed the passion inside her, not that he owned it. Inwardly, she cringed with humiliation, recalling how she’d offered herself to the first man to bestow more than a chaste peck on her lips.

Purposely, she looked away, back to the sinfully handsome man at her side. She willed her body to bristle with awareness, willed her heart to race furiously in her chest, willed her body to heat under his appreciative gaze. And tried not to panic when it refused to comply.

She decided to test the waters of passion with someone else, if Rockingham attempted to kiss her, she would allow it. Perhaps then, she could erase the memories of what had happened in Newmarket.

Rockingham studied her thoughtfully. “Is something wrong?”

Everything was wrong. But Gina forced a smile back on her face. “Nothing that a change of scenery will not fix.”

Pleased by her answer, Rockingham steered her possessively toward the garden. Toward her future.

It physically hurt just to stand by and do nothing. To feign disinterest, to ignore Rockingham’s persistent wooing with cold dispassion, to pretend that the tightening in his chest was not constricting the very breath from his lungs. But Coventry didn’t have a choice, not if he wanted Lady Georgina Beauclerk safely exhumed from his life.

So when her gaze riveted on his, he forced himself not to react, giving no hint to the tumult of emotions stirring inside him.
Cold indifference,
he swore, even when the hurt swimming in her eyes sent shards of pain stabbing through his chest. It was for the best.

She made him feel far too much.

He wasn’t nearly as indifferent as he wanted to be about what had happened in the card room. His attempt to intimidate her with passion had failed. Miserably. Instead, he’d created an intimacy between them that could not be denied. And an insatiable hunger raging inside him that demanded to finish what they’d started.

Despite his best efforts she’d managed to get under his skin. The intensity of emotion he’d felt for her as she’d come apart in his arms had frightened him. He’d felt himself beginning to open up, beginning to ask what if?

Disgusted, he shook his head. He thought he’d left that foolishness in his past. The damned neediness inside him had always been his Achilles’ heel. It was what had made his parents’ cruelty and his wife’s betrayal so painful. Other men had suffered as much, why was he so weak? He’d spent years of time and effort ridding himself of this weakness—he wouldn’t open himself up again.

But knowing that he was doing the right thing didn’t make doing it any easier.

Time and distance had yet to work their magic.

He forced himself not to watch as Rockingham lured her to the garden like a spider with a fly. A rush of blood pounded through his veins, every impulse in his body strained to go after them.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he focused on finding Ash. Perhaps he couldn’t speed up the passage of time, but he could do something about distance. Once Augusta was married, he could return to his haunt in the bowels of society, avoiding any chance encounters with Lady Georgina. Already his temporary bout with propriety had ended upon his return to town. He’d returned to his usual pursuits with renewed vigor in the effort to erase his uncharacteristic lapse into the mundane. Not, he told himself, to blunt the guilt for his cruel words in the card room.

Thus, it was by fortuitous circumstance that he found Ash seeking refreshment, with Coventry craving the very thing himself.

Staring glumly into the bottom of his glass, Ash didn’t notice him right away. When Coventry cleared his throat, he glanced up. “How long have you been standing there?”

Coventry shrugged, picked up a glass and downed the contents in one gulp. “Not long.” He paused, carefully watching his friend’s reaction with his next words. “I arrived with my sister only a few minutes ago.”

Confirming his suspicions, Ash immediately scanned the room, searching for Augusta. When he located her in a group of young ladies, his expression softened.

Uncomfortable in the unfamiliar role of guardian, Coventry shuffled then blurted without preamble, “Look here, Ashley, what are your intentions toward my sister.”

A flush crept up Ash’s neck, but he squared his shoulders and looked Coventry directly in the eye. “Honorable.”

Pleased, Coventry nodded.
I told her so
.

“Not that it matters.” Ash shook his head, dejected.

“What do you mean?” Coventry asked.

“I thought she might return my regard, but lately she seems to prefer the attentions of Carrington,” Ash said with disgust. “I don’t understand it.”

Unfortunately, Coventry did. Thanks to one interfering busybody. But he would rectify matters soon. “I’d never allow such a match.”

Ash nodded, obviously relieved. “Glad to hear it. I can’t tolerate the fellow myself. There’s something about him…” He stopped when he noticed that Coventry’s attention had drifted elsewhere. “What’s wrong?”

Coventry frowned as the group of ladies that Gina had been standing with quickly broke off in different directions. Two nameless debutantes quickly descended on Beaufort and Dashwood, while Lady Blakemore and Lady Penelope headed purposefully in their direction. For a time Coventry thought he’d imagined it. But more and more he knew he had not. It seemed like every time he turned around, his friends were being dragged off on some ridiculous quest or another. “Something strange is going on.”

“Beyond the fact that we’ve spent more time at society balls in the past few weeks than in the past few years?”

Coventry smiled ruefully. “Beyond that. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Noticed what?

“How lately we are separated as soon as we enter a room.” Indeed, the only place that they were safe was in the catacombs of Wycombe.

Puzzled, Ash thought about it. “Now that you mention it, yes. Only last week at Pennington’s soirée, I was forced to climb a tree to rescue a foolish kitten at the bequest of Lady Caroline.”

“And it appears we are about to be sent on some other spurious errand.” Coventry nodded in the direction of Lady Blakemore and her sister-in-law.

“What do you make of it?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

And he knew just where to start looking. He’d bet his fortune that it had something to do with Lady Georgina.

Extricating himself from Lady Penelope proved easier in theory than in actual practice. While Lady Blakemore embroiled Ash in some false endeavor, he’d spent the better part of a half hour searching for a lost pearl earring only to have Lady Penelope, at his suggestion, miraculously “find” it in her reticule. If she wasn’t Blakemore’s sister, he would have soundly throttled the witless creature.

He didn’t know what game these women were at, but he was determined to find out.

Where is she?
The nagging voice inside him would not quiet.

The entire time spent looking for the blasted earring, he’d been all too conscious that Lady Georgina had not returned to the ballroom. He couldn’t keep his gaze from straying to the door. What could be keeping them?

Of course, it was obvious what was keeping them.

Though he wanted Georgina to leave him be, a part of him didn’t want to believe he could be so wrong about someone. Again. He’d half-believed her to be different. Changing targets so quickly bespoke a falseness of character that he would not have attributed to her. And the thought of her succumbing to Rockingham as easily as she had to him made him ill. Foolishly, he’d thought her passion had been something more than lust. Perhaps it was what he wanted to believe.

Waiting proved too much. The last of his restraint exhausted, he started toward the garden, dreading what he might find, but unable to keep from seeing it for himself.

There were two things that hit him the instant he stepped outside. First, it was a bloody shame to waste such a fine night parading around a stuffy ballroom and second, Lady Georgina and Rockingham were nowhere to be seen. A circle of iron lanterns lit the forefront of the garden, providing ample area for the guests to stretch their legs along the concentric circular paths laid out around a large fountain. Indeed, a good number of people were already making use of such.