The Rake (20 page)

She nodded and did as he told her. Finally,
he helped her to her feet, lifted her and settled her on the horse
again. With an effort, she held on until he was mounted behind her.
Cursing again, he pulled the veil from her hair and tossed it to
the ground. “Don’t go to sleep, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Nodding meekly, she cast around in her mind
for something to say. Nothing came immediately to mind, however.
“About what?”

“
Anything,” he said grimly,
pulling her tightly against him and urging the horse into motion
once more.

“
I’m sorry about last
night,” she said finally. “I didn’t mean … any of that.”

“
None of it?” he asked
absently.

She frowned, thinking it over. “I wanted you
to make love to me,” she said finally. “You didn’t, though, did
you?”

His arm tightened around her. “I’d as soon
not talk about all of the incredibly stupid things I’ve said and
done since we met, love. We’ll sort that out another time. Suffice
to say Sarah gave me a good dressing down and brought me to my
senses in time to prevent complete disaster.”

Demi twisted around to look at him.
“Sarah?”

Smiling faintly, he lifted his hand from her
waist long enough to caress her cheek briefly. “Aye, Sarah.”

Demi thought it over. Something had been
nagging at her since the night before when she’d listened at the
door to the conversation between Lord Wyndham and the servant. “You
did not … share your bed with Sarah?”

He looked taken aback.
“Good God! I should think not!” A worried frown marred his brow in
the next moment. “The opium in the laudanum … don’t allow that to
take hold of your mind, love. The answer is most definitely not. I
arranged
another
room for her at the inn. She did not sleep in my room and
certainly not in my bed.

“
She’s a handsome woman,
I’ll warrant you that, but I’ve no eyes … and no desire, for anyone
but you. I would think that would be abundantly clear to you by
now, love.”

Chapter Fourteen

Garrett kept her talking for hours it
seemed. They reached the Bath road eventually and rode along it for
several miles before they came upon Garrett’s coach. Garrett
dismounted, tied the reins to the back of the coach and finally
helped her from the horse. Holding her arm and walking her around
to the side of the coach, he helped her to climb in, then followed
her inside. Fitzhugh gave Garrett a disapproving look as he closed
the door. “I thought you would ride along side, my lord.”

Garrett frowned. “Her aunt dosed her with
laudanum to make certain she was … not difficult. I’ll stay with
her for a bit, at least until I’m convinced she’s past the worst of
it.”

“
Very good, sir,” Fitzhugh
said at once and turned away, climbing up beside the
driver.

“
I’m fine,” Demi assured
him.

“
Still sleepy?”

She bit her lip. “Only a little … but I did
not sleep much last night,” she reminded him.

“
Indulge me,
then.”

Smiling, Demi leaned toward him as the coach
lurched into motion and walked her fingers up his chest teasingly.
“Gladly.”

He caught her hand, but he chuckled. “As
happily as I would accept that particular form of indulgence, I’ve
been told I must be on my best behavior by both Fitzhugh and Sarah.
And I can well imagine my mother would vociferously second them. I
cannot allow you to lead me into further temptation … at the
moment. Particularly since I’m well aware you’re still suffering
the effects of the drug you took.

“
That was not at all wise
of you, love. What possessed you to take so much?”

Demi settled her cheek against his shoulder.
“Aunt Alma said she would summon the footmen and make me take it if
I was determined to be difficult. I knew she and Phoebe had taken
it often enough for their nerves. I only thought that it would
relax me, so I wouldn’t be so afra--nervous.”

Garrett relaxed fractionally. “I’m relieved
to hear it was no more than an oversight. You are most
unfortunately accident prone, love. I can see I will have to keep
my eye on you,” he said pensively. “As for your aunt … as much as
it grieves me, I’m afraid there is little I can do in retaliation
for what she put you through.”

When they stopped at the first post, he sent
Fitzhugh into the inn to procure a light luncheon in a basket for
them. Demi thought it strange at first that they ate in the coach,
but she said nothing, finally realizing that it was the impropriety
of their situation. It hardly seemed to matter now. She felt
certain she was the most scandalous of fallen women in all of
England by now, but she didn’t particularly wish to be stared at,
nor publicly shunned either.

She wasn’t particularly hungry, despite the
fact that she hadn’t eaten since she’d risen, but she ate a little
at Garrett’s insistence. The food only seemed to make her more
sleepy rather than less so, but to her relief, Garrett held her
close and at last allowed her to sleep.

It was dark when she awoke. She stirred
sleepily, confused by the rocking of the coach and the hardness of
her bed. Finally, she realized that Garrett had dragged her across
his lap, cradling her head against his shoulder. She tipped her
head back, placing a light kiss along his jaw.

“
Feeling better?” he
asked.

The moment she moved, her head had begun to
pound as if someone was hammering on her skull. “Yes,” she lied,
but groaned as he shifted, settling her on the seat beside him and
leaning forward to stretch his cramped muscles. “My head hurts,
though.”

“
I would be surprised if it
didn’t,” he muttered. “In the future, you will avoid laudanum, my
dear.”

Demi massaged her throbbing temples. “I will
certainly not be tempted to repeat the experience if it’s to have
this effect, I can assure you.”

“
Good.” Leaning forward, he
tapped on the panel. It slid open at once. “I believe I’ll get out
and ride a bit.”

“
Very good, sir. We’ve
reached the park.”

“
Good timing,” Garrett
commented as he sat back and looked over at Demi.

“
You’re getting out?” Demi
asked in dismay as the coach slowed and finally came to a
halt.

He patted her cheek and climbed down. “We’re
almost home.”

Demi frowned as she settled back against the
seat cushions and the coach lurched into motion once more,
wondering where ‘home’ was. In truth, she couldn’t remember more
than snatches of the conversation they’d had since he’d pulled her
from her aunt’s carriage, but she didn’t think they had discussed
where they were going.

She did remember being ill, unfortunately.
She covered her face with her hands, mortified both by that memory,
and remembrance of what she’d done directly before she’d been
sick.

Lord! Garrett must think she was-- She broke
that thought off. Of course, he thought she was a completely wanton
slut! What else could he think after the way she’d fallen all over
herself to spread her legs for him any time he touched her.

Possibly the worst of it was that only
thinking about making love to him on the back of his horse made her
feel warm all over again, in a purely carnal sense, not from shame,
as it should have been.

She was incorrigible--beyond redemption.

It occurred to her, however, that perhaps
that was what drew Garrett to her. Maybe he’d sensed that in her
all along? Even though she hadn’t really known or understood the
particulars regarding intimacy between a man and woman, she
realized now that she had lusted for him the moment she’d set eyes
on him. It was indeed love, as she believed, but far more than mere
affection, respect, liking. Only looking at him had been enough to
make her heart run away from her, to steal her breath, send warmth
and need spiraling through her.

And from the moment he’d touched her, she’d
grown blind and deaf to everything she’d ever been taught about
respectable, acceptable behavior.

What
could
he think except that she was
mad for him and perfectly happy to damn the world if only she could
be with him?

And what was to become of her now? Would he
hide her away in a little cottage somewhere and come to her only
when the whim struck him?

How could he do anything else? She was
disgraced. However much he might enjoy being with her, he could not
be seen in public with her. He could not have her in his home.
Society would not stand for such a blatant scandalous display and
he would have to marry eventually, if for no other reason than to
secure an heir.

As unclear as her memory was, however, of
all that had happened since she’d decided to take the laudanum to
settle her nerves, she remembered the most pertinent parts--Her
aunt had disowned her. The thought didn’t particularly wound her,
but it frightened her.

What
would
she do when Garrett tired of
her? She knew, sooner or later, that he was bound to, and just as
surely, he would discard her and look for a new mistress. Men
always did. Would she be passed from one to another? Or would he be
kind enough to buy that little cottage he’d once offered
her?

The slowing of the coach distracted her from
her morbid thoughts. She glanced out of the window, but it was far
too dark by now to see since the moon hadn’t risen above the trees
as yet. She saw light before the coach, but she couldn’t tell if it
was only the carriage lamps or if they were approaching the lights
of a house.

She settled back again, nervously checking
her hair and clothing as she felt the coach lurch and begin to
bounce along cobbles. Her heart leapt into her throat and lodged
itself there as the coach drew up before an enormous mansion.
Torches were lit on either side of the main door, throwing a
flickering light over much of the exterior. Inside, the light of
many candles lit the windows that faced the drive.

Before she could recover her composure, the
door opened and the steps were let down. Garrett, looking tired and
drawn stood in the opening, holding his hand out to her. After a
moment, Demi took it and allowed him to help her down. As they
ascended the steps, the door to the manor opened abruptly and an
attractive woman wearing a scandalously thin gown of the first
stare of fashion seemed to float effortlessly down toward them.
“You must be Miss Demitria Standish. Welcome to Wyndham Park, my
dear.”

Demi glanced uncertainly at Lord Wyndham and
then back at the woman once more. Finally, remembering her manners,
she curtsied. “Thank you.”

The woman chuckled at her look of confusion,
holding out her hand. “I’m Lady Wyndham.”

Demi felt the blood rush from her face. A
wave of dizziness followed it.

“
Goodness! You poor little
thing. You’re all done in, aren’t you. You must come in at once and
let me get you settled. I’ve arranged for you to have the blue
room. Garrett, be a dear and see to her baggage,” she said
distractedly.

Demi glanced a little fearfully at Garrett
as the woman slipped an arm around her waist and led her inside. He
was frowning. She could tell nothing from his expression,
however.

She didn’t have time to consider it. They
paused only briefly in the foyer, where Lady Wyndham issued orders
to scurrying servants like a general situating his troops, and then
she was led up the stairs. Servants were summoned to prepare a
bath. By the time they reached the upper landing, two footman had
struggled in through the front door, carrying a large trunk between
them. Demi, drawn by the commotion, glanced down at the men,
feeling the strange sense of being disconnected with her
surroundings that is typical of dreams. She stared at the trunk
curiously and without recognition, wondering why Garrett hadn’t
told Lady Wyndham that she had no trunk … nothing to her name
beyond the clothing she was standing in.

She was too stunned to think beyond a
specific point--Garrett had brought her to his home and handed her
over to Lady Wyndham for some unfathomable reason. She was led into
a small chamber where a tub had already been prepared, helped to
undress, and assisted into the tub.

“
There now, my dear. That
should set you to rights in no time at all. I’ve always found a
nice hot bath very soothing to the nerves, and I’ve only to look at
you to see you’ve had a very trying day. Would you prefer to dine
in the dining room? Or should I have a tray prepared for
you?”

Demi stared at her blankly for several
moments, revolted at the thought of sitting down to dine at Lady
Wyndham’s table. “I’m not really hungry,” she said tentatively.

Lady Wyndham’s brows rose. “You have eaten
already?”

Demi blushed. “We … uh … stopped for
luncheon.”

Lady Wyndham patted her on the cheek. “I
will have a tray sent up. I can see you’re not feeling up to
company just now. And when you’re settled, perhaps we’ll have a
little chat?”

Demi found when Lady Wyndham left that she’d
been right. The hot bath went a long way toward relaxing her and
reviving her flagging spirits. Some of the sense of drifting
through a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, also dissipated, but the
uneasiness of confusion lingered. What position, she wondered, was
she to have in Lord Wyndham’s home? Why had he brought her here? He
could not, surely, expect to house his wife and his mistress in the
same place.

She assumed Lady Wyndham was his wife. She
looked to be several years Garrett’s senior, but she certainly
didn’t appear to be old enough to be his mother.