The Rake (3 page)

She wasn’t certain of whether she dozed, or
if she slipped so deeply into her thoughts that she lost awareness
of her surroundings. Whichever the case, her mind was slow to
interpret the thrashing in the nearby grass as footsteps and he was
virtually upon her before it connected in her mind. She sat up with
a start, her heart beating unpleasantly fast. She didn’t know
whether to be relieved or further disturbed when she discovered
that it was Lord Wyndham. Even looking upon him was enough to make
her almost giddily breathless with excitement, but his attention
unnerved her almost as much as it thrilled her.

“
I have found our truant, I
believe.”

She looked up at him guiltily. “My
lord?”

“
The picnic?” he
prompted.

Demi put a hand to her wildly fluttering
heart. “I thought perhaps my aunt was looking for me,” she said
with a touch of relief. She’d forgotten her cousin had planned a
picnic for the day, but then she had not been invited and she had
not really paid much attention to the plans Phoebe and her court
were making for their entertainment.

Amusement gleamed in his
eyes. He looked the grass over with a touch of doubt and finally
settled on the ground facing her, wrapping his arms around his bent
knees. “So … you
are
playing truant.”

Demi sighed but finally nodded. “It’s far
too early in the day to face unpleasantness, especially when one
has a headache to begin with.”

“
Most ladies physic
headaches by lying in a darkened room with a tisane,” he said
pensively, “not a meadow beneath the sun.”

Grimacing, Demi looked away. “I expect,
then, that they do not have an aunt like mine.”

“
She strikes me as a
veritable dragon.”

Demi looked at him sharply and looked away
again, plucking a blade of grass and twining it about her fingers.
“I expect I sound ungrateful for all my aunt has done for me.
Truly, I’m not. She has been most generous in caring for me,
considering I’ve not a farthing to my name.”

“
Mmm,” he murmured
non-committally. “And what plans has this generous aunt of yours
devised for your future, I wonder? I expect Lady Phoebe will be
settled before the year is out and will no longer have need of a
companion.”

In point of fact, although her aunt had not
elaborated on her thoughts, she had expressed the opinion that it
would be cheaper in the long run to settle a modest dowry upon Demi
than to have her niece swung about her neck for the remainder of
her life. Demi correctly interpreted modest to mean a sum
sufficient to attract a tradesman or perhaps a man with a
profession. Her aunt was beyond tight with a farthing. She had
suffered over launching Phoebe in style, but had explained that she
expected the expense to prove well worth it, for Phoebe was bound
to land a man of wealth and title.

Instead of answering, she rose abruptly and
brushed the grass and dirt from her frock. As uncomfortable as the
conversation itself was, she shuddered to think what her aunt might
have to say about her speaking with Lord Wyndham. “Excuse me. I
should go in now. It is never wise to keep Aunt Alma waiting
overlong.”

She cast a look behind her when she reached
the garden once more, wondering if it was possible that she might
have been observed from the house. To her dismay, she could see
Lord Wyndham quite clearly.

She doubted her cousin would suffer any
anxiety over Lord Wyndham’s sudden, and completely
incomprehensible, interest in her, but her aunt would not take it
kindly at all and might well accuse her of throwing herself in his
way.

Her aunt, she discovered when she inquired
of one of the maids, had ensconced herself in her late husband’s
study. A deep sense of foreboding settled over Demi as she made way
down the hall to the door of the study and tapped lightly. She was
given permission to enter and, taking a deep, sustaining breath,
went in.

“
Did your maid not give you
my message?” Alma Moreland greeted her.

Demi stared at her aunt. If she said no,
then the maid would either be dismissed or severely reprimanded. If
she said yes, she would have to endure the barrage herself. As
tempted as she was to deny responsibility, however, she was fond of
her maid and didn’t want to get her into trouble. “Yes, Aunt Alma …
but I had a headache and went out in the hopes that fresh air would
help.”

Her aunt gave her a look that left her in no
doubt that she knew Lord Wyndham had joined her. “With whom?”

Blushing beneath that unforgiving stare
despite all she could do, Demi furnished her aunt with a half
truth. She did not expect to get away with it, for her Aunt Alma
was very like a demi-god in that absolutely nothing transpired at
Moreland that she was unaware of. Demi strongly suspected that at
least half of the servants were her spies and reported to her
hourly. “I went to walk in the garden alone.”

“
Where you encountered Lord
Wyndham? Did you make an assignation with him last eve when the two
of you danced?”

Demi gaped at her aunt in shock. “No!”

Alma Moreland studied her for several
moments and finally nodded. “You will do well to eschew his company
in future, my dear. He has a shocking reputation.”

Resentment swelled in Demi’s breast. It was
an outright fabrication, and she knew it. He had sown his share of
wild oats … and what young man of the ton had not? But he was
certainly not a blackguard as her aunt seemed to be implying. “I
find that difficult to believe!” she exclaimed before she thought
better of it.

“
Are you questioning my
word?” Alma Moreland asked coldly.

Demi paled and looked down at her hands. She
had not been invited to sit and she shifted uncomfortably under her
aunt’s piercing stare. “Surely you would not allow him to court
Phoebe if he was beyond the pale?”

“
Quit fidgeting!” Alma
Moreland snapped. “As to that, he would not think of giving my girl
a slip on the shoulder. You are another matter, my dear. Many an
impoverished young woman before you has found herself in dire
straits indeed by refusing to listen to the advice of their
betters. You will do well to remember that men like Lord Wyndham
have their family name to consider. They do not seriously court
impoverished young women, even those of good family. They have been
known to prey upon them, however, for their baser
needs.”

Demi didn’t know whether to be horrified or
intrigued by the suggestion that Lord Wyndham might have dark
designs upon her. It had not occurred to her previously that he
might. He’d indicated that he’d asked her to dance out of empathy
for her reluctance to dance with the Rev. Flemming. She had not
thought to question it. As for their encounter earlier, she’d
considered it merely a coincidence that he had happened upon her in
the meadow.

She frowned, but try as she might she could
not think of anything that he’d said or done to indicate he had
designs upon her person. Very likely, she decided with some
disappointment, it was only her aunt’s evil mind that had invented
lasciviousness where none existed.

“
That said--and I know you
are, in general, a modest young woman ,” Alma Moreland continued,
“I have very good news for you.”

Demi’s belly clenched reflexively. Good news
to Alma Moreland didn’t necessarily mean anyone else would think it
so. In general it meant that she expected to profit somehow from
it, regardless of whom the news pertained to and anyone who did not
share her opinion of the news was either a fool or they had set
themselves up against her. “Good news?” she echoed cautiously.

“
Do sit down, Demitria!
From the look of you I can’t imagine your stroll was particularly
efficacious. You’re as pale as a ghost.”

Demi looked around and finally perched on
the edge of the nearest chair, waiting expectantly for the ax to
fall.

Alma Moreland smiled at her
and if possible, Demi’s stomach clenched even harder. “Our dear
Reverend Flemming had a word with me last evening before he left.
Such a gentleman! And such a fine figure of a man. He is considered
quite a catch, you must know. You have played your cards very well,
very well indeed--although I must say I’m not particularly fond of
that vulgarism--But it never does to allow a man to feel as if he
has an open field. It was very clever of you to finagle a dance out
of Lord Wyndham--just the impetus needed to push Mr. Flemming into
declaring himself. We have all but settled it between us. I must
say I was most pleasantly surprised by him, for he readily agreed
with the sum I offered to settle upon you. In fact, he made it
clear that he had not expected that you would be dowered at all and
had set aside a sum himself for that purpose.” She stopped,
frowning. “I was
that
put out about it, I must tell you, for I might have saved …
but no matter. I shall not count the cost in seeing you properly
settled. It’s the least I can do for my poor, departed sister to
see her girl comfortably settled.”

If her aunt had announced that she was to be
executed the following morning, Demi did not think she could have
been more stunned. Bereft of speech, her thoughts shattered into
chaos by shock, Demi found she was incapable for some moments of
even putting two thoughts together and making any sense of them. At
first she could not think beyond her revulsion at the idea of being
Jonathan Flemming’s wife. Outrage began to sink in as she managed
to add to that the fact that he and her aunt between them had
settled all very neatly without any consideration for her wishes,
without consulting her, without even apprising her of their plans
until after the fact.

Alma Moreland smirked. “I see I have
rendered you speechless with delight. I confess I was not at all
pleased to see you dangling after Lord Wyndham, particularly since
I could only consider it a betrayal of trust when you know very
well he is Phoebe’s beau and we expect almost daily that he will
declare himself. Now that I have been brought to see that it was
merely a clever ruse on your part to coax the elusive Mr. Flemming
into taking the plunge, I am only sorry I did not think of it
myself. Men are such territorial creatures when all is said and
done, and it is only human nature to want what is difficult to
obtain and despise what is easily gotten.

“
I must confess I’m a bit
put out to see you settled before my own, dear daughter, especially
when she is nigh a year your senior, but I did not feel it wise to
play fast and loose with your future, my dear, by putting him off
until after Phoebe’s engagement had been announced.”

Demi looked at her aunt blankly. “Phoebe is
engaged?”

Alma Moreland reddened. “Sarcasm is most
unbecoming in young people, particularly when directed at their
elders. You know very well she is not--not yet, at any rate. I
expect she will be soon. In point of fact, it occurs to me that it
may take no more than the announcement of your engagement to Mr.
Flemming to inspire others to capitulate.

“
But, enough of that. I
know you are on pins and needles to hear the particulars of your
own match. I assured Mr. Flemming that you would welcome his offer
and invited him to luncheon today so that he may be private with
you afterward while the young people are all off enjoying their
picnic.”

“
But … I do
not
welcome his offer!”
Demi blurted out suddenly.

Alma Moreland looked at her in stunned
amazement. “I beg your pardon?” she demanded coldly.

A wave of fear washed through Demi, but she
was far more fearful of finding herself wed, and completely at the
mercy of Jonathan Flemming. If there had been any doubt in her mind
that he was of the same ilk as her aunt, she might have been
willing to consider it, but she was certain he was every bit as
controlling and demanding as her aunt, possibly even more so. Of a
certainty, he could also be kind, but that was only when everything
was going as he pleased. At any time he was displeased, he was
enraged. He hid it reasonably well--now. Once she was under his
control he would have no concern about giving vent to it, she was
certain, and his size alone was unnerving. He was built far more
like a blacksmith than a cleric. “As much as I appreciate his
offer, I cannot accept it,” Demi stammered.

Alma Moreland’s eyes narrowed. “You have
options I am unaware of? A dozen beaux waiting in the wings to snap
you up? A dowry? Or, perhaps you were thinking more along the lines
of entering service? In which case you must have references I am
not aware of. Talent that might qualify you to instruct young
ladies of family? An education that would make you acceptable as a
governess perhaps?”

Demi stared at her aunt in dismay, knowing
even without her aunt’s cutting remarks that she had no options
open to her. Her father had been a charming rogue, but neither wise
nor frugal. Her mother’s portion had been gone, she felt sure, even
before her birth. Her father had inherited even less. The youngest
son, his father had purchased his colors and shipped him off to
India to seek his fortune.

She’d spent the better part of the past year
trying to think what she might do to support herself once Phoebe
had married, for her aunt had made it clear almost from the first
that she was looking forward to discharging her obligations to her
sister’s child. She had not been able to come up with a solution,
unfortunately, and had come up empty of any idea except a vague one
that Phoebe would perhaps consider allowing her a place in her own
home.

She might have been willing to consider it,
but as headstrong as Phoebe was, she was as cowed by her mother as
Phoebe and would not directly oppose her if her mother forbid her
to do so.