To Capture a Rake Read online

  “How can I be of assistance?”

  The time had come. Elizabeth cleared her throat, keeping her voice steady. “I need someone to keep me company in the country for a fortnight.”

  The woman lifted a perfectly plucked golden brow. “A fortnight? That will be costly.”

  Elizabeth kept her face smooth, showing no emotion. Money did not matter, at least not anymore. “Of course. Money is no problem.”

  Although a mere five years ago it would have been, and she couldn’t seem to forget the poverty she had been born into. Even now she felt the urge to cringe, although she could afford to buy all of London. Perhaps not all…but at least half.

  Lady Lavender nodded. Elizabeth noticed the shift in her gaze. Just a shrewd flash of interest, gone before anyone else would have seen it, but the look had been there all the same. A business-woman at heart.

  Lady Lavender had believed her story, and she was ready to discuss. “Your likes, dislikes?”

  “Well…” Elizabeth tried her hardest to keep from blushing. It was bad enough attempting to buy a whore, but with Mr. Smith watching, listening, it was beyond humiliating. How he would torment her later.

  She smoothed her hands over the wooden arms of her chair, needing to do something with her hands. “My late husband was old. Very aged. I’d like someone virile. Large. With a dangerous air about him. Someone who might…take control.”

  Had she described him well enough? She curled her fingers, her nails biting through her gloves and into her sensitive palms as she resisted the urge to glance back at Mr. Smith for his nod of approval.

  “I see.” Lady Lavender pulled open a small drawer and took out a journal of some sort. “Details?”

  It took her a moment to realize the woman actually wanted to know the specifics of what interested her. Lord, it was like they were buying cattle.

  “Dark hair.” Elizabeth shrugged, attempting to feign an air of indifference. “Blue eyes?” She tapped her finger to the corner of her mouth and studied the silver and lavender flowers painted to the walls. “No, silver? Yes, gray eyes, if you have such a man.”

  She could practically see the woman’s mind spinning as she flipped through her journal, apparently in search of the perfect mate. Well, she certainly took her business seriously. Elizabeth began to relax. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

  “Will it be the both of you?”

  “Hmm?” Elizabeth frowned, confused.

  Lady Lavender glanced pointedly at Mr. Smith.

  “Oh,” Elizabeth squeaked, the heat she’d been trying to keep at bay shooting to her cheeks. She’d heard that some men preferred more than one partner, but really. “No! No, merely myself.”

  She realized her mistake when Lady Lavender didn’t even bother to hide her smirk of amusement. So much for seeming worldly. Yes, she might as well have painted “innocent” across her chest.

  “Of course.” Lady Lavender tucked her journal away. What Elizabeth wouldn’t give to know the secrets of that that wicked book. “And do you wish to view the specimens today?”

  Specimens? As if they were the insects she’d seen pinned to the wall at a natural science museum Mr. Ashton had forced her to attend only two years ago. “Yes, please.”

  Yes, please? Oh dear, this was not going the way she’d planned. She acted like a child begging for gingerbread.

  Lady Lavender merely stood. “I shall return with some prospects.”

  She tried to look appreciative. “Wonderful.”

  She waited until the woman swept from the room. Waited until the door closed and the murmured conversation in the hall ceased. Waited until she could no longer hear the rustle of her gown. Then, only then, did she spin around to face Mr. Smith. “Don’t you dare laugh!”

  “What?” Mr. Smith was all wide-eyed innocence, but she could see the ghost of a smile upon his lips, just waiting to be released.

  Elizabeth turned back around in a huff and slumped into the chair, the last four years of training gone. She was like a virginal debutante. Or…a country milkmaid with no breeding.

  “This is wretched, utterly, utterly wretched.” Unable to sit still, she surged to her feet and began to pace the room, past the walnut sideboard, toward the marble fireplace over which a large golden-framed mirror hung, and finally to the windows. “How shall I stand there and look these men over as if they are cattle?”

  Mr. Smith drummed his fingers against the mantel. “What happened to the fairness of it all? Women getting their jollies and all that?”

  She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “Oh, do shut up.”

  This time he did laugh, a rich chuckle that made her smile in kind. It was impossible to be angry at Mr. Smith. She brushed aside a heavy curtain and studied the scenery. A stone wall ran around the estate, and beyond…rolling fields of lavender. “However shall I keep a straight face when she returns?”

  “Once you meet him, you’ll have no problem being somber.”

  Elizabeth released a puff of air that set the netting over her face billowing. “Is he that wretched?”

  Mr. Smith frowned. He’d made his thoughts perfectly clear. He believed she was ridiculous, but he would keep silent, for he knew how very stubborn she could be, and once she made up her mind, she would see it through. “I only saw him once, but he looks the very devil himself. You’ll recognize him by those cold, gray eyes.”

  She nodded and started back for her chair. It was all she could do not to burst from the room, apologize for her mistake, and rush back to the carriage. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t betray Mr. Ashton. She’d come this far, after all.

  She jumped when the door opened. Lady Lavender swept into the room, three men trailing behind her like the little lapdogs her mother-in-law was so fond of. Although, she must admit, these men looked and smelled much, much better.

  All were lovely. All were finely dressed in suits that fit their muscled bodies to perfection. Their dark hair was combed neatly, their smiles pleasant and demure. They paused in front of her, standing with military precision. She realized, quite suddenly, that it was too late to back out now. Overwhelmed by the sudden abundance of masculine finery, Elizabeth had to resist the urge to shrink back against the chair. Although she was supposed to be the one in charge, she felt like a fox surrounded by hunting mutts.

  “Here we are,” the woman said airily, as if selling men for sexual favors was quite common. “If you’d like, I can give you a moment of privacy so you can sample the specimens.”

  Elizabeth had to clench her teeth to keep her mouth from falling open. Good lord, sample them how, exactly? “Uh, no. No need.”

  She felt as if she’d entered another world. Some strange country where she didn’t quite understand the customs or language. Never mind. She was here, and she had a job to do. Elizabeth straightened and forced herself to look them over with a critical eye. As her startled heart resumed its normal pace and her rational mind took over, she realized that yes, they were all lovely, but none had gray eyes. She slid a helpless glance toward Mr. Smith. He didn’t dare say a word, but the slight shake of his head told her what she needed to know.

  “I’m sorry, they won’t do.”

  They remained embarrassingly mute.

  “Although you all are quite handsome,” she added, thinking to soften the blow.

  Still not a word. Elizabeth shifted, uneasy, wondering if she had somehow offended. In all of the many lessons Mr. Ashton had forced her to attend, not once had anyone mentioned the rules to abide by when visiting a brothel.

  Lady Lavender was silent for a long moment, her delicate hands pressed to her tiny waist as she studied Elizabeth with a shrewd eye. “Well,” she finally sighed. “I do hate to admit it, but that’s all we have at the moment. Would you prefer to see blond men?”

  Panic swept through her. Perhaps he’d fallen ill. Perhaps he’d left the business. Or maybe Mr. Smith had made a mistake during his investigation. “No, he must have dark hair.” She cringed when he
r voice came out shrill and desperate.

  Lady Lavender moved around the chairs and headed toward the doors, dismissing her already. If she wasn’t going to pay, she no longer mattered. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to return another day. Make an appointment with my secretary and I’ll have some new clients for you.”

  “I have money,” Elizabeth blurted out, rushing after her, knowing she looked completely desperate, but not caring. She hadn’t wanted to come at all, but now that her chance was slipping away, she was in a near panic. “Lots.”

  Lady Lavender sighed as she paused at the door, looking quite annoyed. She was a veritable ice maiden. “As do I. I can’t pull men from rooms in mid-service, my reputation would be tarnished.”

  The woman couldn’t truly be worried about her reputation? She owned a brothel, for God’s sake! “You’re sure you have no one else with dark hair?”

  She pressed her fingers to the jewel-encrusted clip that held her hair in place, then smoothed down her skirts as if making sure everything was in order. “I must be fair. If you had made an appointment earlier in the year, it would be different.” She opened the door and stepped aside, obviously dismissing them.

  Frantic, Elizabeth glanced toward Mr. Smith, but he said not a word. He couldn’t. She was in charge. Really, what could she do but admit defeat…for now? At least until she knew for sure if the man she searched for was truly here.

  Elizabeth cleared her throat, and head held high, she started toward the door. “Very well.”

  “I am truly sorry,” Lady Lavender said with little depth.

  Elizabeth gave her a brittle smile. To come this far only to fail was not an option. She would return until she found the man she sought. Of course Lady Lavender didn’t need to know that. “I understand. I shall make another appointment soon.”

  The woman’s cold eyes spoke volumes. Instinct told her she must tread carefully around her. Yes, she would be back, and next time she’d forgo the formality. Elizabeth stepped into the hall and directly into a solid chest. She gasped, her knees buckling. The chest in question easily caught her with one steel arm and drew her to a hard body.

  Stunned, for one spellbound moment she didn’t move. The scent of musky soap and man surrounded her in an erotic cocoon that left her heated and oddly content, as if she’d been born to reside in his arms. Elizabeth blinked rapidly at his broad chest, confused by the situation in which she suddenly found herself.

  “Pardon me,” the man said, his voice deep.

  A tone that vibrated through her body and stirred something primitive deep within. Slowly, she lifted her gaze from his black jacket, followed the line of his neck to his chin. Dark scruff covered the lower half of his face, as if he couldn’t bother to shave. Higher her gaze traveled…to his lips that were quirked in the corners, as if he found her and the situation amusing. Higher still to the slightest bump on his nose as if he’d been in a fight, and judging by the muscles surrounding her, she didn’t doubt he’d won.

  It all happened in a mere moment, but it felt like an eternity before she raised her eyes and met his steel-colored gaze. Hair as black as sin curled slightly around the collar of his equally black jacket. It was the only thing soft about him. Her rational mind failed her. Words would not come. He was beautiful.

  No. This could not possibly be one of Lady Lavender’s whores. He was too otherworldly, too much like an angel who’d flown down from the heavens. Her hands curled against his hard chest as she resisted the urge to latch onto his lapels. But it wasn’t his beauty that stunned her; it was those silver eyes that made her heart skip a beat and her mouth go dry.

  “You’ll recognize him by those cold, gray eyes,” Mr. Smith had said.

  “Oh my,” Lady Lavender murmured, suddenly appearing at her side and reminding her that they were not alone. She gently pried Elizabeth from the man’s arms and turned her around, leading her toward the doors before Elizabeth had regained her wits.

  “Are you all right?” Lady Lavender asked. “Must be careful, you know.”

  Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder. The man had turned toward a woman she hadn’t even noticed, a woman who must be his client. They moved up the stairs, Elizabeth all but forgotten. With his arm around the woman’s waist, he whispered into her ear, making her giggle. Anger and surprise combined. She had the oddest desire to rush up those steps and pull the woman’s hair from her head…to proclaim to the world that he belonged to her. She pressed her hand to her racing heart, confused over her possessive feelings.

  Mr. Smith had thought he was intimidating, the very devil.

  She thought he was stunning.

  The man’s touch had given her leave of her senses. She pressed her hand to her chest where she swore she could still feel the pressure of his beating heart against hers. Mr. Smith, who followed beside, shot her a telling glance, only confirming her suspicion. He was the man they sought.

  “He’ll do.” She hated that her voice wavered as she said the words, but there was nothing to be done about it.

  Lady Lavender was silent for a moment. “Gideon does not leave the estate, I’m sorry. Perhaps another—”

  She had not come all this way for nothing. Her resolve strengthened. She glanced toward the steps once more, but Gideon was gone. “Lady Lavender,” Elizabeth interrupted, turning away from the woman. “I insist.”

  The woman’s face grew hard, her eyes cold. “And I refuse.”

  It would be war then. But she had one advantage: Lady Lavender thought she a simpering London miss. She’d find out soon enough what Elizabeth was capable of. Mr. Mountain suddenly appeared, as if sensing his mistress’s distress. He practically shoved them out the door. The sudden warmth of the day hit her, the sun blindingly brilliant. Elizabeth stumbled. Mr. Smith caught her before she teetered off the steps and into a potted lavender. Mr. Mountain shut the door in her face.

  It was all over as quickly as it had begun. Elizabeth frowned, her eyes narrowed in confusion and anger. “Very inhospitable.”

  Taking in a deep breath, she stepped away from Mr. Smith and pushed her bonnet back into place, making sure the netting still covered most of her face. She doubted a priest would enter this home, which meant it was going to be awfully hard to marry Gideon if he couldn’t leave the brothel.

  “You’re sure it was him?” she asked, just to be positive.

  “Yes.” Mr. Smith confirmed her worst fears and secret desires.

  Of course it was. Mr. Smith had said he looked dangerous, but he hadn’t said the man was impossibly handsome. Elizabeth pressed her hands to her roiling stomach. What would she do? She had the oddest feeling that her life was about to change drastically, as if she stood on the edge of a cliff and was about to jump, praying there would be water below to soften the impact.

  “Well, being polite didn’t work,” Mr. Smith said. “Shall we try the other?”

  “Indeed.” Elizabeth pulled at the bell cord, ignoring the way her hand trembled. “Blackmail it is.”

  Chapter 2

  “Over there,” Gideon said in a clipped tone that left no room for argument.

  Lady Penelope scooped up her thick green skirts and scampered toward the four-poster bed to do his bidding, her bonnet bobbing with the movement. She wouldn’t object to his commanding tone; they never did.

  He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to the bloodred settee. His clothing smelled like the woman he’d held downstairs. He knew Lady Penelope would not approve of him carrying another woman’s scent. Most women frowned upon the reminder that he’d had more than a few in his bed. Not that he cared what they wanted, but the scent was distracting. Spring and lilacs, of fresh air…freedom. He shook off the uneasy thought.

  “Undo your bodice,” he demanded.

  Lady Pen sucked in a sharp breath and with trembling fingers reached for the pearl button at her neckline. She was obviously eager to start their play. He stalked toward her, his footsteps sure and unhurried. There was no need to rush. She was a stupid
fool who would do what he told her to do, a woman so in need of diversion from her mundane and pathetic life that she would eagerly tarnish her soul and possibly her reputation should her sinful behavior be discovered.

  Reaching her, he didn’t pause but cupped the back of her neck and took what he wanted. His mouth crashed to hers in a hard and demanding kiss. But as his fingers slid into the silky strands at her neck, he didn’t think of Lady Pen’s dark tresses. No, instead brilliant red locks with the slightest kiss of gold flashed to mind. The color of the morning sky on a day when a storm was brewing. A warning.

  And as his hands moved to her hips, jerking her body close, he did not think of Lady Pen’s narrow frame but of a woman who was so lush, she’d tempt even the saintliest of men. Damn, but when those plump breasts had crushed to his chest as he’d easily caught her downstairs, his cock had grown solid and had stayed that way. He hadn’t been aroused so quickly in months…years. It was a bit disconcerting, but he pushed the unwelcome thoughts aside.

  If he couldn’t have the woman downstairs, Lady Pen would do. She whimpered, parting her lips. Gideon took ruthless advantage by sweeping his tongue into her mouth. She tasted of peppermint, of tea, of wealth. A woman was a woman. So why the hell was he having such a difficult time focusing on Lady Pen? Damn it all, he didn’t bed women to think or enjoy, he was here to forget.

  Just as the woman reached up to clutch his shoulder, he pulled away. Aye, he was wicked all right. He purposefully drew her in, only to step back and regard the woman coldly, as if she didn’t matter in the least. She quivered, whimpering in need, those blue eyes begging him for more, although she wouldn’t dare ask, for there was a part of her that feared him. Hair as dark as the night, shoulders broad, he towered over most men. Lady Lavender liked him dressed in black, of course. The scars across his hands didn’t help put women at ease. They assumed he was soulless…they were right.