Page 4 of Just About a Rake (Ladies Who Dare #5)

L eonora was ambushed the moment she stepped into the house. She couldn’t say she was surprised. Thir race hadn’t ended when they’d cleared the park—they had raced all the way to her house, caught up in the thrill. But the man had fulfilled his wish and escorted her home. Her only regret was that her morning rides were now exposed to Heart. A botheration.

“Didn’t I tell you to say away from that man?” her brother demanded, following on her heel into the dining room.

“You speak as though Dare is this monster that might suck out my soul.”

“He is a rake, Leonora. Do you not understand what that means?”

“It means he loves women.”

“So you are aware, yet you continue to consort with him.”

Leonora turned to face Heart’s thunderous countenance. “As long as I am not seduced by him, can he truly harm me?”

“His mere reputation—”

“Yes, yes, can slice mine into pieces.” She arched a brow. “Why is everyone so theatrical when it comes to rakes? He is still just a man.” A devastatingly handsome one. “As a man, he has feelings, too, you know. Behind the reputation there is a person.”

“I don’t know if you are being serious or mocking.”

“A bit of both.”

“Then do you have a fantasy to reform him? I’m telling you now, that will never happen.”

“A fantasy?” This time she sent him a mocking glance to accompany her tone. “I’ve no intention of doing anything of the sort.”

“Then what the hell are you doing, Leonora? And thinking, for that matter. Did the two of you arrange this morning’s little ride? Did he?”

“I met him by pure coincidence.”

“You expect me to believe that after finding the two of you flirting behind a pillar last night?”

She shrugged. “Believe what you will. Dare is a friend. We have fun conversing with each other. We met each other by accident this morning. That is all.”

“Riding with a friend ?” Disbelief flashed across his face and straight onto his tongue. “You cannot be friends with a rake, Leonora.”

She tilted her head to the side, smiling. “Why not?”

“You are a woman. He is a rake. Do you need more of a reason?”

She rolled her eyes. Yes, she did. “It is only a chaste friendship.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. What does that even mean ?”

Well, she did have a knack for speaking nonsense, didn’t she? However, this was not it. “It’s not nonsense. A man and a woman can be friends if they have no interest in forming anything beyond friendship. It’s the mark of wise adults.”

“For you, that might be possible,” Heart growled. “But not for him.”

“Casting stones a bit too hastily, aren’t you?”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s strange and you know it. I can only assume that your true aim is to make me miserable, in which case you could have used anyone else. It didn’t have to be him .”

But you would not be half as miserable as you are now. But that had never been her aim. “What is this antipathy, Heart? Why are you so sensitive on the subject of Dare and rakes? Are you perhaps recalling the memories of your youth?”

He flinched.

“I see that I’m right. By the by, instead of harping on the subject of my friendships, why don’t you find a wife,” she locked onto his gaze, “and produce an heir?”

“That has nothing to do...” He trailed off as she arched a brow.

“I’m your brother, Leonora. Does my concern mean nothing to you?”

She almost snorted, stepping up to take a seat at the table spread with an assortment of bread, cheese, and tea. Her brother followed, placing himself square across from her.

“Didn’t you once dream of a fairy tale prince?” he continued. “Dare is not a prince. Why not focus on your prince?”

Her prince? Ah yes, she did recall such memories, but that had been before her fourteenth birthday when she’d discovered the truth of her birth. She could never marry a prince. Having grown a bit wiser, she didn’t want to either. Instead, she rather enjoyed having fun with a prince of a rather different kind all the while seizing moment after moment. This morning’s race with a rake, in particular, had been a delightful one.

She buttered a scone. “ Prince is just a metaphor, Heart.”

“Nevertheless, it’s an admirable ambition.”

She shot him a flat look. Truly? An admirable ambition? “And what about you, brother ? What admirable ambitions do you have?”

“Helping you marry a prince.”

“What a commendable brother you are.” Or not a brother at all. In fact, the word had long since become a discomfort on her tongue. But the alternative was impossible. Yet, he served as a perfect example of how many things in life could simply be taken for granted. But this was her life, these were her choices, and she didn’t want to miss out on anything and only to have regrets later, much like the regrets she oftentimes sensed from Heart.

No, he was the last person who ought to lecture her. Plus, she’d heard all the rumors. Apparently, the red-faced fellow before her had once been quite the heartbreaker.

He poured two cups of tea and pushed one over to her. “Listen to me for once, I beg you. Stay away from Dare.”

She reached for the sweet preserve. “I’m curious. Did you have a falling out with the man?”

He started. “What?”

“Why are you so against him? Is it only because of his reputation?”

“I don’t need another reason. That’s enough.”

“Not for me.” She bit down on her scone, chewing while studying him.

“Damn it, Leonora, if you don’t stay away from that rogue, I shall be forced to take alternative measures. And while we are on the topic, these secret morning rides of yours are done as well.”

“Heart!”

He sat back and smirked. “Do I have your attention now?”

“Stop it, Heart. Are you my father? Do not think to threaten me.”

His smirk drooped, but instead of feeling sorry for him, Leonora felt only satisfaction. She motioned to the spread on the table. “You should eat something. One shouldn’t pick fights on an empty stomach.”

He scowled but still reached for a scone and butter. “I’ve never understood your habit of taking breakfast at this ungodly hour.”

She shrugged. It was a routine that had developed from riding early in the morning. This was her space in the morning where she could collect her thoughts.

“I like the silence.”

“What nonsense. You thrive with clatter.”

“I like silence in the mornings .” She reached for another scone.

“Is that what you call your frolicking with that blackguard—silence in the morning? Your definition of silence is rather suspect. If I hadn’t witnessed it firsthand—”

She cut him off with a scoff. “Peering through the window hangings doesn’t suit you.”

“I just happened to look,” he bit out. He cleared his throat, plainly intent on changing the subject. “I received word from our parents.”

Her ears perked up. “Oh? How are they enjoying Wales?”

“They are staying another three months. Father has a bit of a cough.”

Interesting.

And at least one part lie.

She studied Heart. Was he aware their parents weren’t in Wales? That their mother had participated in a clandestine meeting in the park not even an hour ago? Leonora was convinced—not only that her family was steeped in secrets, but that she had only glimpsed the tree, not the roots.

She itched to dig them all out.

Finishing her second scone, she reached for another, dabbing a generous amount of preserves on this one. The sweetness would settle her sudden annoyance. She could, if she wanted, argue that all her life she had lived a lie. Or, at the very least, part of a lie. This was why, like this morning, she looked at other people’s actions rather than their words.

“Well,” Leonora said, successfully hiding a note of sourness, “as long as they are enjoying their trip.”

“I have no doubt that they are—they love that place.” He stared at her from beneath his lashes. “How about you? Have you any news?” Heart suddenly asked. “Anything of note?”

“Like what?” Was he referring to their mother? The duchess, perhaps?

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Forget I asked anything.”

Leonora gave an inward snort.

You expect me to do that? What do you take me for, Heart?

No, she would not forget. She would not let this drop. Keeping her circumstances a secret was one thing, but the duchess—potentially half of that very secret—had returned to London, apparently putting Heart on guard and luring her mother from Wales. She’d only been curious before, but now she was determined. Determined to get to the bottom of this family, Heart, and her real mother.

Everything.

*

“Dull has never been used in a sentence to describe anything I do.” Dare leaned back in his chair, lifting his gaze to Knox while ignoring the distaste clawing up his throat. He hated the stench of cheap taverns. Stale ale, unwashed bodies, and the acrid reek of God knows what clinging to the floorboards. “Have I turned dull? This can’t be, can it?”

“I’m not sure. However, if I were to reflect upon it—”

“Please don’t.”

“She does have a point.”

“And how is that?”

Knox sneered. “You have now asked us three bloody times whether or not you’ve turned into a bore. You tell us.”

“When last did you indulge in pleasure?” Drake asked, motioning a server to bring them each another ale, the very picture of a relaxed ruffian in their secluded corner of a tavern called The Rose—a recent purchase of his.

It was the only reason Dare set foot here in the first place.

Drake Fury.

A cousin that no one in his family recognized except for Dare. Also one of the seven bastard sons of the Duke of Crane. A long, ragged scar ran down the length of his face, making him look particularly fierce. It never ceased to amaze him, that scar.

“Does that matter?” He hadn’t indulged in weeks. Not that he hadn’t tried to indulge. He would arrive up to the moment of the deed, and then... nothing. No urge. No desire. No... fire in his loins.

“Suppose not,” Drake drawled lazily. He inhaled his unlit cheroot. “If you’re dull, then what are we?”

“The dullest of the dull,” Dare stated.

“In that case,” Knox swallowed the last of his ale, “the whole damn world is dull.”

Dare cut a dirty look at his friends. Were they even his friends? Enemies in disguise more like.

Knox nodded as the server brought their ale. “How did you react when she called you a bore?”

“I raced her home. To her home,” he added before they gave a pestering remark on that as well.

Drake chuckled. “Well, that’s a new one, I’ll grant you.”

A new one? It wasn’t meant to be. He hadn’t meant to race her that far either. “Don’t start with me, my head must still have been full of fog to do something as reckless as that.”

Drake chuckled. “Her family must have been thrilled.”

“I didn’t stop to take stock.” Instead he had continued on like the devil nipped at his heels.

“The chit certainly has no fear consorting with you,” Knox said before emptying a quarter of his glass and letting out a belch, patting his chest.

Dare shook his head. Could he argue with that? The little temptress possessed a bold quality that was infused with a bit of oddness. How else to explain her fearless interactions with him? “If she were a man, her reputation might even be more infamous than mine.”

Drake took a slow swig from his beer. “Seems to me like the girl enjoys playing with fire.”

More like she was the fire.

“Don’t go too far if you don’t want to end up leg-shackled,” Knox advised.

“Lord, no.” Dare relaxed into his seat, trailing a thumb over his glass. “There are some lines even I won’t cross.”

“You should stop flirting with the chit altogether,” Knox said. “It’s dangerous territory you are venturing into, my friend.”

“I shall try my best.” Like hell he would. But that didn’t mean he would be too reckless about it, either. He studied Drake for a moment. “What about you? What’s your excuse for sending Knox to me as a messenger? You didn’t even send word you were in Town.”

Drake shrugged. “I have business with Knox.”

“But you want to do business with me, too? Do you still want my help?” His attitude toward being involved in his cousin’s venture had quite changed over the last few hours. He was more than happy to help now that Leonora had questions about the duchess as well. He couldn’t deny he was curious—about her business if not Drake’s.

“I’m looking into something first,” Drake murmured, removing another cheroot from the inner pocket of his jacket and dragging it beneath his nose.

Dare took a swallow from his ale, pulling a face. As bad as the first one he hadn’t finished. “Let me know when you require my aid, and I shall consider it. But I am curious, why not ask her directly for what you want? You’re her late husband’s son, after all.”

Drake shrugged. “We’ve had a disagreement or two.”

“You know there is this thing called apologizing,” Dare pointed out.

“And grovelling,” Knox suppled.

“It’s not that simple.” Drake cracked his neck. “The argument is one that spilled over from my father to his wife.”

“In that case, feuds should be buried with their masters,” Knox said. “Why drag it down the family line? Just talk with the current duke. He is your half-brother, after all.”

“Blood only matters when you acknowledge it,” Drake said. “And the man is holed up somewhere in a darkened castle on an unknown moat. I have no way and no time to approach him.”

“He sounds like a charming fellow,” Dare murmured.

Should he tell his cousin about the meeting he and Leonora witnessed earlier this morning? No. It didn’t seem very likely that it would have anything to do with his cousin’s situation. And he’d rather not have Leonora dragged into Drake’s matters in any way. The man might look relaxed at the moment, sipping on ale and smelling an unlit cheroot, but he was a ruthless human being. If he thought Leonora could help him get what he wanted, he wouldn’t hesitate to use her.

His thoughts trailed back to Leonora and their morning race. What was she up to right this moment? Causing more mischief, perhaps? With whom?

Ah, hell.

Would he run into her if he went riding tomorrow morning as well? Probably not. He’d glimpsed her brother peeking through the window when he passed her house. The man’s animosity had practically stabbed through the walls of the townhouse to pierce him. She would have gotten a scolding and likely not be permitted any morning rides anytime soon.

The corner of his mouth pulled upward. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Lady Leonora taking a scolding from her brother without a few choice words of her own.

Drake kicked his chair. “Why the devil are you grinning like a fool? It’s a terrifying look on you.”

“Nothing you would ever be able to understand.”

“Meaning it’s about her,” Knox said.

Drake laughed, yet his tone mocked, “Could this be the seedling of love? A rake reformed?”

Dare’s smile slipped. “What love and what reform? Impossible for a man like me.”

“That hardened, are you?”

“That self-aware.” He had no illusions about his own character.

Knox nodded. “There is no arguing against that. You must be the most self-aware man I know. But the question needs to be asked. Do you think Lady Leonora is infatuated with you?”

Dare snorted. “Infatuated with me? No. Infatuated with my reputation? Delightfully so.”

Knox chuckled. “A lady living on the edge of danger.”

“She delights in the thrill,” Drake remarked.

No denying that.

“Don’t we all?” Knox said.

Dare pushed at his mug. “I don’t.”

Both Drake and Knox stared at him. Not a single twitch in their brows.

“Fine, I love the thrill, too.” Dare gave them a moody look. “Why are we talking about this anyway?”

“Perhaps because you’ve been giving the chit more attention than any other,” Knox said simply.

“Like when you huddle together in the bushes and whisper in each other’s ears.”

Dare snapped upright. The rustle he’d heard in the park. His eyes narrowed on his cousin. “You’re the mouse.”

“What mouse?” Knox asked, confused.

Drake smirked. “Mouse? I don’t know about that, but I’ve been following the widow like a shadow.”

“Never mind, I’m sure I don’t need to know what you’re talking about,” Knox muttered.

Dare shook his head. “Lord, you’ve got more shadows than me, Fury.”

“Shadows? My reputation has always been shrouded in supreme darkness, not mere shadows, cousin.”

Dare snorted. “They are all self-inflicted one way or another.”

“Christ, you both are equally morbid.” Knox let out a disgusted grunt. “More likely your dark shadows are the result in simple over-indulgence in your vices.”

Dare lifted a shoulder in a shrug. Not wrong. Which was probably why he was over the indulgence. If his friends knew how long it had been since he’d bedded a woman, they’d fall on their backs in shock. Even he fell on his back each night wondering what the hell was going on.

He just had no . . . interest.

He glanced down at his cock. Flaccid traitor. He’d fled the last woman’s bedroom, not because her young son had knocked on her bedchamber after hearing her cries, but on account of Little Dare refusing to play. He hadn’t bothered since.

What did a man do when even pleasure held no more pleasure?

Not only was it humiliating, it was damn disturbing. How else did a man vent? Drinking? Gambling? Horse racing? Carriage racing? What stimulation was better than a woman’s embrace?

He dragged in a deep breath of air and scowled. The stench of this damn place.

Knox whistled. “What’s with that sudden troubled look?”

“I am troubled. You—you both—are troubling me.”

“Come now, we are merely trying to make sense of this new obsession of yours,” Drake drawled.

New obsession? He hadn’t been flirting with Lady Leonora for all that long, but he supposed he had been flirting rather obsessively, exclusively with her. Was it her causing this strange, frustrating dry spell? Was she not only an heiress but a witch as well?

Dear God.

Had she put a spell on him?