Page 9 of Just About a Rake (Ladies Who Dare #5)

“T his is preposterous!”

Was what her brother should have been shouting, but his lips didn’t so much as move an inch as they entered their home. Usually, it wouldn’t even have mattered if they had company. Today was a prime example of that. If Heart had something to say, he would say it. Or to put it more accurately, Leonora thought, if Heart had somebody to scold, he would scold.

Yet even with only Harriet here—and she’d been present for many other scolds—Heart had remained uncharacteristically silent. Luckily, the strength in Leonora’s legs had returned the moment they left Brimfield house. Even more fortunately, Harriet had followed her and Dare and decided to return with her.

The moment Leonora shed her wet clothes and changed into a simple dress of white, she fell back onto her bed next to her friend, uncaring whether her hair was still damp. If she had to fight with it, it would be tomorrow’s problem.

Her gaze fell on Dare’s jacket, draped over her chair.

Her heart tickled.

“Are you sure you are all right?” Harriet asked. “You look a bit pale.”

“That’s because I just had the fright of my life.”

“Well, I’ll admit, that alligator startled even me, and I wasn’t even in the fray,” Harriet said with a furrowed brow. “Even so, if something is amiss, you can tell me, you know.”

Leonora nodded. But she didn’t want to burden her newly wed friend with her shocking secrets. The last thing she wanted was for Harriet to worry about her. A woman in young love should enjoy the delight while still fresh.

Besides, she didn’t relish the idea of reliving any of this afternoon yet. She still couldn’t quite believe she had clamped up to the degree she had when the duchess offered her... what had she offered her again? Ah, it didn’t matter. Thank all the holy saints for Dare’s sharp eyes! He alone had noticed how thrown she’d been by the encounter.

“Nothing is amiss,” she reassured her friend. Nothing she couldn’t handle. “The past two days have been a lot. Today especially.”

Harriet snatched up a pillow to hug. “Who can blame you? The papers today were mocking enough. I am afraid to see what they shall say tomorrow.”

Leonora groaned. “No, I don’t want to think about it. All I want to do is forget.”

Harriet chuckled. “Dare seems quite taken with you, which surprised me. I don’t think he’s ever been so concerned over a woman before.”

Leonora glanced at her friend. “Ah, well, haven’t you heard? We’ve been bonded by a parrot.”

“You cannot deny that bird was quite determined to steal your rake.”

Leonora grabbed a pillow and hit her friend. “Don’t talk nonsense!”

Harriet laughed and suggested, “Why don’t we go shopping for hats? It might bring the color back to your skin. Oh, right, you don’t like hats, do you? We can always try to empty Heart’s coffers on the latest fashion plates.”

Leonora shook her head. Honestly, the events of the day had exhausted her. “You should go. Leeds must be waiting for you.”

“Leeds will keep your brother company for a while, don’t worry. Your bath should be ready soon as well. Then we can go shopping.”

“I beg of you, don’t drag me to the shops. My legs might fail me again.”

Harriet’s expression returned to that of concern. “Now I know something is wrong. Bond Street is your second home. Are you sure it’s just fright from the alligator?”

“No, it’s the fright from everything. Heart. Dare. Calstone . I still don’t understand why he was in the boat.”

Harriet laughed. “Oh, do not fret about him. If that man even catches a whiff of drama—which is to say entertainment —he would jump into the Thames to swim after it.”

Leonora had to agree, given what she’d seen of him so far. Not that she really cared. But the duke seemed to be a safe, effortless topic for the moment. “Which then makes him the entertainment.” He would love the irony of that, she was sure.

“How right you are! As for your brother, it’s only natural he’d be concerned after the bird fiasco.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fiasco.” Call it a masterpiece.

“No? Well, I suppose it was just another pet gone wild,” Harriet suggested. “However, the papers turned it into one with their headlines. Any family would be concerned.”

Family . . .

Leonora rubbed her eyes as an older, still delicate face swam within the edges of her memories. Big blue eyes. A slender, heart-shaped face. A look of uncertainty that reached straight into her heart like a vise and gripped .

Who was that woman to her?

Her real mother?

Someone else?

Leonora didn’t have enough of the scattered pieces to make a confident assumption, but judging from Heart’s reaction, the duchess was most certainly something. At least to him, if not Leonora.

As if Harriet could read her thoughts, she suddenly exclaimed, “Oh! And why didn’t you tell me you knew the duchess?”

Leonora blinked. “That’s because I don’t. You heard her; she hadn’t been introduced to anyone.”

“Then why was she staring at you all concerned?”

“Because I am a fellow lady who got tossed in the lake?”

Harriet arched a brow that seemed to say: Are you sure?

“Honestly,” Leonora said, infusing meaning into her tone. “Today was the first time I met her. And why are you so intrigued by the duchess?”

Harriet leaned back onto her elbow. “Well, I heard the duke was a nasty man. Everyone is talking about it.”

“The late duke?”

Harriet nodded. “He had scores of mistresses and bastard children scattered all over England. I feel so sorry for those poor children. And all the women of course.”

Leonora grimaced. “How unfortunate.” Though not unheard of. She couldn’t imagine still wearing black if she had a husband such as that. “Tell me, Harriet, would you feel sorry for me if I were a bastard child?”

“What are you talking about?” Harriet said, her brows drawing together. “I suppose I would. Then again, you are so strong, you wouldn’t need my pity.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Leonora drawled playfully. “I wouldn’t be a true lady.”

Harriet snorted. “So? There are several times a day I’m not either.”

Leonora grinned at that. “I would be of questionable birth.”

Harriet gave her a flat look. “The way the ton tiptoes around the delicate topic of pregnancy, all births should be considered questionable.”

Leonora laughed. “I’d still be a pariah.”

“Well, at least you would be an authentic one.”

“Authentic... not a word I’ve ever given much thought to. Would it still be authentic if someone is hiding from the world?”

“It’s authentic if you are not allowing it to hold you back.” Harriet glanced at her. “You know, there is a world outside of the ton . I’ve thought about this a lot.”

That surprised Leonora. “Why?”

Harriet shrugged. “Curiosity, I suppose. Some other things.”

“Did you wish to explore the world?” Leonora asked. If she were honest, she hadn’t really thought about the world beyond theirs. She’d been living as though it could be taken away from her at any moment, but not envisioned what could come next. Yet the thought of there being a whole other world beyond the ton gave her a measure of comfort.

“Of course, though to be honest, Leeds and I have created our own world, and I am more than happy to reside there all of my life.”

“Ah, yes, the delightful bubble of love.”

“It’s more than just a bubble; it’s more than just love. It’s family. It’s a life that exists beyond society. Yes, we are still within its realm, but it’s rather freeing.”

Leonora enjoyed that sentiment. “You mean you get away with more when you are married.”

“Exactly.”

“So, I should marry.”

“Oh, Lord, please don’t marry just for the sake of marriage. If you find the right man, then yes.”

Leonora laughed. “Do not fret, my dear friend, I shan’t marry for the sake of marriage. But I’m still looking for my moments.” Her moment to rule all moments, to be exact.

“Of course, of course.” Harriet nudged her with a leg. “Just don’t get so caught up in all the smaller moments that you miss the big one. And for the love of everything, find a man worthy of you.”

“And what if I am the one not worthy?” Leonora asked lightly.

“However can that be?” Harriet exclaimed. “That alligator must have scattered your wits today!”

Leonora shrugged. “It’s not the alligator. I just feel a tiny bit unworthy at times,” she admitted. “Not much, but like an imposter in someone else’s world.”

A moment of silence. “That’s not much?” A short laugh. “However, I do understand.”

Leonora slanted a glance at her friend. “You do?”

Harriet nodded. “I’m not sure why you feel this way, but I know that worthiness comes from a place in your heart, nowhere else. I’ve learned this since I married Leeds.” Her friend gave her a wistful smile. “Trust me, Leonora. If we look anywhere else to find our worthiness, we will get lost. I do not wish that for you.”

“Well, do not worry on that score, at least. I am very good with directions.”

“I do not doubt that.”

Leonora glanced back at the ceiling of her room, her gaze trailing over the patterns strewn overhead. Worthiness from within. She quite liked that. Titles, at the end of the day, could never compare to what was in the heart.

Perhaps one day she would feel it and believe it at the same time.

*

“It’s been a long time.”

Dare lifted a lazy gaze to the woman approaching him where he reclined on a sofa of the library. The widowed Marchioness of Pilkington, otherwise known as the queen of the demimonde. He didn’t bother to stand, and she didn’t bother to sit. In fact, he wagered she enjoyed looking down on her prey.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to visit my chamber?” the lady purred.

Dare bemoaned his luck. “Yes.”

She laughed. “But you are here now.”

Her suggestive tone brought the start of a throb to his temples. “Not for you.” The only reason he’d entered this house of depravity, which he usually had no qualms about, was because he had been invited here of all places.

He hadn’t objected, since he thought he might also be able to relieve some pressure that a certain temptress evoked with her sweet scent, the memory of her... in a dress that clung to her body like a goddess... her body pressed against him...

But the moment he’d walked through those doors, whatever remained of that mood—which wasn’t much to begin with—had disappeared.

“If not me, then who?” Lady Pilkington did not give up.

He didn’t think it was possible, but his mood sank into even darker depths. He’d forgotten about this trait of hers. “A friend.” More precisely, his cousin, Drake.

It seemed ridiculous now that he’d thought coming here might relieve his tension. Aye, he had an itch, but neither the marchioness nor any other woman here sauntering about this estate would even begin to scratch it. None of them could take her place, which was quite a troubling predicament for a man like him. It left him with nothing but provoking memories and a hard cock.

I need a drink.

If only he enjoyed drinking beyond the occasional ale or glass of port. He loathed the lack of control inebriation brought. A man who lost control over his body and senses made for a rather pitiful image. Just look at his father in his last years.

“I see—”

“Dare,” Drake’s low voice drawled, cutting off whatever Lady Pilkington was about to say. “Aren’t you a sight for the eyes?”

Dare glanced over to Drake striding toward him with a lazy gait. His gaze drifted over the scar that started at the edge of his hairline, drawing over his eyebrow, jumping the eye socket, and continuing its path to stop at his jawline. The scar that usually looked frightening in stark daylight seemed more subdued in the low lighting of this drawing room.

“You’re late,” Dare said.

The scarred brow rose. “I thought I’d have to wait for you to finish a romp.”

“As you can see,” he sent a pointed look at Lady Pilkington, “I’m not romping today.”

She pivoted on her heel and sauntered away on a huff.

“What was that about?” Drake asked, staring after the woman.

“Small annoyances.”

Drake lowered to seat himself comfortably in a chair. “Is she why you’re in a brood? The lady not up to standard?”

“Probably.” Not quite, be he didn’t want to explain. He could not make heads or tails of his standards anymore. “How are things in Brighton?” They never talked about Brighton in front of others. Not even Knox.

“Same as always. Just about the same as my progress with the deed.”

Ah yes. “I saw the duchess at Brimfield Park today.”

“Did you, now?”

Dare crossed his arms over his chest. “Saw her before that, too.”

“The lovely widow called on you then?”

So he knew. “Is that why I received a rare invite from my dear, old cousin?”

“I’m curious what the widow had to say,” Drake admitted, wasting no words.

“Well then, she didn’t say all that much. Something about staying out of her family matters.”

“Admitting she knows I’m family? Interesting.”

Dare shrugged. “She might know, but what she doesn’t know is whether you have my support.”

“Luckily, I don’t need your support.”

“Such gracious words, cousin.” Not that Dare minded. He’d rather not play nursemaid to adult men.

“What about you?” Drake asked. “You’re working on seducing a little bird, I hear.”

A little bird? Leonora? “She is just a friend.”

“Just a friend?” Drake’s low laughter prickled the lines between Dare’s brows.

“What? Can’t I have a friend?”

Drake said nothing, though his glowing eyes held a whole conversation in them. Damn man. Time to change the topic. “Just what is it about this property that has you crawling out of your darkened hole? Why do you want it so badly?”

Drake shrugged. “The property was left to my mother by hers.”

Ah, his mother, one of the duke’s many mistresses. “Why does the duke have the deed?”

Drake clenched his jaw. “Why else? To use the money made from the land to pay for his indulgent lifestyle.”

Interesting. “What did your mother get in return?”

“Me.”

Dare grimaced. He shouldn’t have asked. Everyone knew the late duke had a way of getting what he wanted, and once he had it secured, he’d toss away any excesses he didn’t want. In this case, that had been his aunt and his cousin. He attempted to lighten the mood. “Don’t sell yourself short, you are worth a lot.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Land aside, it’s my mother’s ancestral home. I want to get it back for her. She’s suffered enough.”

Worthy goal. “Why not explain this to the widow Crane?” She seemed like a reasonable sort. Maybe.

“The widow and I are at a deadlock.”

“Of course, the deadlock you will not tell me about.”

“It’s best if you don’t know.”

“I shall take your word for it,” Dare said. He had no desire to press. “What of your half-brother? The current duke.”

“Crane loathes our existence. Would you entertain the bastard son of your father’s mistress?”

He supposed not.

But then, one of those bastard sons was his family. So, maybe he would? It was a rather difficult situation. It’s hard to say how anyone might react. “The woman is still in black,” Dare commented. “Perhaps give her more time.”

“If she is wearing the black for him, I can’t understand how she could love such a monster.” He removed two cheroots from his inner pocket and inhaled the scent. He handed the other over to Dare.

“Much obliged.” He bit it between his teeth but didn’t light it. “In any event, I think many things are not as they seem.” He didn’t believe things were ever just black or just white. And then there was Leonora’s curiosity about the duchess. “Have you ever met Lady Leonora Heart?” Dare asked, watching his cousin’s expression closely.

“No,” Drake said. His gaze met his. “Why would I meet anyone that innocent?”

It was a good point. “What about her brother? Heir to the Marquess of Heartly?”

Drake shrugged. “Can’t say that I have. The only nobles I rub shoulders with are you and Knox.”

Dare nodded his head thoughtfully. So whatever Leonora’s curiosity about the duchess, it was likely unconnected to Drake’s affairs. A comforting thought.

Drake eyed him. “Should I have met them?”

Dare shook his head. “He and the duchess seem to be acquainted with one another.”

“Is that so odd? She hails from your world.”

Yes, but the undercurrent between the two sizzled with tension. And that was with a mere look. Dare had been in the game long enough to recognize the signs of entanglements, even if he avoided them at all costs.

“Do me a favor,” Dare said. “See what you can find out about Heart, will you?”

“Aren’t you a bit too curious about your little bird’s family?”

Dare narrowed his gaze. “You say it as though she is a nuisance.”

“Aren’t all little birds?”

“Still so damn jaded. And stop calling Lady Leonora a little bird.”

“Says one jade to the other.”

“You do know there is a difference between the two words, don’t you?”

Drake shrugged.

Dare leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Does your mother know that you are trying to retrieve the deed for her?”

“No. She wouldn’t encourage it. But the duke is dead, and I’ll be damned if my mother will be robbed any longer. I’ll get that property back, even if it kills me.”

“It could be with a solicitor and you’re wasting your time with the duchess.”

The veins in Drake’s jaw jumped. “I know for a fact that the duchess has the deed in her possession.”

Dare didn’t ask how he knew. He sat back in his seat. “Very well. I’m sure you’ll do as you see fit. How are the other Furys?”

For the first time that evening, the corner of Drake’s lips lifted. “Causing mayhem as usual.”

Dare nodded. Drake had seven half-brothers, six of them by-blows like him. They had started a family of their own, and they all lived in Brighton. They ruled Brighton to be more exact.

And they loathed the upper class.

It must be hell for Drake to approach him in London, his discomfort evident by the fact that he’d set himself up in the rookeries rather than a more favorable part of London, which he could very well afford.

“Well.” Drake rose to his feet. “I’ll be off. The perfume of this place is making my stomach churn.”

Dare scowled. “It was your idea to come here.”

“It was yours first. I merely went along with your previous indulgences.”

“Well, stop, or next time I’ll challenge you to a fight.”

Drake grinned at that. “Can you still throw a punch in your old age?”

Dare glared at the man. “I’m not that old.”

“Fine, but for a man who doesn’t like pain, you shouldn’t toss out challenges.”

Dare didn’t deny it. He was made for love, not fighting. Pain wasn’t really his thing. He certainly didn’t like feeling it. Chaos seemed to be more his thing lately. Specifically, the chaos that was her.

And he was consumed.