Page 4 of It's All About the Duke
“I probably am.”
“No proper gentleman would ever touch a young lady without her permission.”
“I do know the rules, Miss Fast, whether or not I choose to obey them.”
Though truth be told, Rath wasn’t a plunderer of innocents. Well, perhaps there was one—or two, maybe a few when he was a very young man—but never one that wasn’t as desperately willing as he, and it was long before he realized the gravity of how little it took to break a young lady’s heart. Now he had no inclination to tumble and tangle the sheets with an untouched young lady, no matter that his reputation in clubs and scandal sheets extolled otherwise.
Rath took his pleasures elsewhere. Mistresses and widows seldom put their hearts into a relationship, and certainly not out in the open for all to see as did young ladies. Experienced women were skilled, generous, accommodating, and usually eager to give and receive satisfaction without wanting much in return. For some, companionship and gratification were reward enough to keep them sated if not content. And that’s the way Rath wanted it, too.
The good thing was that the fascinating Miss Fast was no longer fearful of him. Now she was incensed. That emotion was more familiar to him.
“I do have something of importance to discuss with you. We can continue to stand out here in the chill of the afternoon breeze on your front stoop, or, since your cousin is home, you can invite me inside.”
“Yes, of course,” she finally said, but not before giving the question more than its due consideration—again. “Please, come inside.” She motioned toward the door with her free arm.
Tut barked again and rushed across the threshold asif the invitation to enter the house had been issued directly to him. The housekeeper opened the door wider.
Rath nodded to Miss Fast and said, “After you.”
She hurried past him, and Rath caught a whiff of freshly dug earth and cut herbs. There was something primal, natural about both scents that pleased him and drew him even more to the miss. He placed his hat and cloak in the housekeeper’s outstretched hands and stepped inside.
“Mrs. Doddle, would you please rouse my cousin from her nap? Tell her we have a guest, ask her to join us, and then make tea.”
“Right away, miss,” the housekeeper responded as she laid Rath’s things on the vestibule table that stood against the wall under a large, ornately framed painting of a beautiful garden whose vistas seemed to go on forever.
Once inside, Miss Fast kept her back to him and placed her basket and his soiled handkerchief on the table beside his hat. He could tell she nervously worked at the bow under her chin. He heard more than one annoyed sigh. Something told him she’d somehow managed to knot the ribbon rather than untie it when, in vexation, she pushed the hat to her back, revealing a tumble of thick, lush golden-red hair that shone as if sunlight was directly on it. Rath had a sudden urge to lift it and bury his nose in the weight of its softness.
Her hands reached around to the back of her simple sprigged-muslin day dress. He watched delicate fingers pull on the sash of the apron fitted around her slim waist. But unlike the ribbon on her hat, when she pulled the bow, the apron strings fell apart and she laid the garment on top of the basket. If she’d had problems with it, he would have risked her shock and ire again and untied it for her.
And enjoyed every second of it.
He watched her take in a deep, solid breath. Her softlyrounded shoulders lifted high and then slowly relaxed. There was a seductiveness to the nuances of watching her summon an inner strength that he’d never seen in any other lady. The lovely miss was trying to calm herself before turning to him. He admired her for that.
When she faced him her countenance was stronger, settled, and determined. That, he decided, was much better.
“My cousin will join us shortly,” she said. “We’ll wait for her in the drawing room.”
He followed Miss Fast down the short corridor and into a small appropriately decorated room. It looked cheerful with damask-covered settees and chairs, fairly new brocade draperies, and a figurine or two on the tables beside the lamps. Her cousin didn’t live in an elaborate home, but it was more than acceptable for a member of Society.
“Please, sit down.” She motioned to the floral-patterned settee with its bright spring flowers. “I don’t know how long my cousin will be.”
“I’ll stand for now,” he said, noticing the knot of ribbon that rested at the hollow of her throat. It couldn’t be comfortable where it lay. But what would she do if he tried to untie it for her? She was already indignant he’d touched her cheek with his handkerchief. What would she do if he reached for the ribbon?
And what would he do?
His fingertips, his knuckles, and, perhaps, even the backs of his hands would touch her delicate-looking skin. Instinctively, that thought sent a wave of tightening arousal rushing through him. Rath sucked in a hard breath. He could only attribute this awareness of her that gripped him to her being an appealing young lady and him a man. For surely he could have no designs on his ward.
“All right, Your Grace,” she said, impatiently. “For thefourth, fifth, or maybe even the sixth time, please tell me why you are here.”
That was the kind of spunk he expected from a lady who liked to play outside with frogs when she was a mere girl. Though he couldn’t possibly tell her the whole truth. He’d never admit that in a rare remorseful moment he’d thought about penitence for all the debauchery he’d succumbed to in his life. That for a brief time, he thought that by coming to this young lady’s aid, replacing her ailing guardian, he might in some way atone for all the young ladies he’d wronged with the secret admirer letters, and for never truly appreciating his father who’d always been a gentleman, as well as keeping the dukedom prosperous.
But there were more reasons that were even harder for a man to admit. Too much brandy. The fact that his two best friends had recently married and settled into happier lives with their wives and were no longer at the clubs in the evenings or the card games that went on for days. There was no reason to tell any of that. He’d written the letter accepting Olingworth’s urgent request for help and that was all that mattered.
He reached into the inside pocket of his coat, pulled out a sealed envelope, and extended it to her. “This is from Mr. Olingworth and explains why I’m here.”
Taking the envelope from his grasp, she looked down at it before returning her attention to Rath. “I’m confused. How did you get a letter addressed to me from Mr. Olingworth?”
“It was included in a packet that he sent to me only yesterday.”
