A Lady's Guide to Kiss A Rake: Misadventures of the heart (8 page)

“That is all I ask.”

Jo nodded and turned to go, but jumped when the doors were thrown open with sudden force by none other than her brother. Well, at least some things never change, Jo reflected while she watched her brother heave under his anger. Willow stood a short distance behind her brother, mouthing an apology. Damn.

Her brother pierced Craven with a murderous glare before his heated eyes flicked to her.

“What are you doing out here with this mongrel?” Brahm hissed in a low voice, mindful not to draw attention to them.

Craven answered before Jo had a chance to explain. “Your sister wished for a breath of fresh air and did not notice me on the balcony.”

Her brother ignored him. “Why did you not return inside when you realized you weren’t alone?”

“Stop being such a stubble head, Brahm. I desired a touch of fresh air. If you failed to notice it is quite hot and stifling inside. Nothing untoward happened and I remained in view of everyone.”

Her brother’s eyes narrowed, yet he remained silent as he regarded them with a steely glare. Craven, the rogue, had lifted a brow at her
nothing untoward happened
line. What had he expected, a confession?

“What a cozy little scene.” The deep, masculine voice of St. Aldwyn penetrated the silence and Jo stiffened as he came into view, stopping by her brother’s side.

His gaze hardened when he caught sight of Craven, but he said nothing. However, his displeasure could not be missed. By Jiminy! What happened to the charm from charming rakes? If only these men knew how united they were in the same cause—keeping her from trouble.

Her cheeks flushed in warmth and she fanned her face with her hand. The balcony, now crowded, left Jo to spare a longing glance to the interior beyond her brother. Her escape blocked by the two figures standing before her, she considered dashing off into the gardens.

“Have you also come for some fresh air, my lord?” Jo asked, albeit a bit snappy.

As if sensing her discomfort, Craven stepped forward, bringing him to her side. “St. Aldwyn, always a pleasure.”

“Too hot,” Jo muttered, not at all sounding like herself, suddenly dizzy and somewhat disorientated. She glanced down at the empty glass in her hands, her third one this night.  A loud hiccup blurted from her lips, surprised at the own sound emitting from her throat.

“Oh! Beg pardon,” she said, her face flushed with embarrassment.

Three pairs of eyes fell on her crimson face.

Another hiccup.

“Oh!”

Her brother’s eyes dropped to the glass dangling between her fingers and narrowed. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Too much I would imagine,” she replied tartly. How unfortunate she hadn’t put a name to the effects of the wine. Until now. Still, she did not feel anywhere near intoxicated—only a bit fuzzy.

“If you wish, I will escort you home, Lady Josephine,” Craven said with a suggestive note, winking at her.

If he wanted to rile the two men it worked, for her brother exploded, “Like hell!” while Damien took a menacing step forward.

Jo giggled.

How embarrassing to be dragged away like some errant child by her brother, but Jo did not much care at the moment. Her mind was occupied by other matters, like Damien and the heated promise she’d seen in his eyes, just before her brother hauled her away.

Damien waited until Warton hauled Josephine out of sight before he folded his arms over his chest, his jacket straining over his muscled form. For whatever reason, Craven had just made Damien stink of roses in comparison to him. Warton now had someone else to dislike more than himself.

“What did you do outside with Josephine? And spare me the rot about fresh air,” Damien snapped, all pretense of civilization gone.

“No rot, only truth. I was already here when the little lady came out,” Craven drawled after several heart beats of silence. “And I do not practice the art of gossip.”

Damien had to force himself to stay calm. “Is that so?”

“Look, St. Aldwyn, before you threaten me, it would be best to consider why Lady Josephine chose me over you.”

The fact that Craven’s voice held no trace of triumph gave Damien pause. Even so, the subtle shift in Craven’s body alerted him to the fact the man prepared himself for another brawl.

Craven might be a bastard, but he appeared to be a smart one. He clearly sensed any further provocation on his part may end in fisticuffs. How unfortunate that Lady Josephine lacked common sense, but how fortunate for him. He had warned her but she’d refused to listen. Far from an empty threat, he would enjoy her punishment. Indeed, it offered him the perfect excuse to teach her some lessons in seduction.

With the roll of his shoulders he relaxed his muscles but still eyed Craven with a sneer. “I will say this only once more, stay away from her or next time you awake from a peaceful slumber, you will find yourself in a padlock.”

By the look of surprise on Craven’s face, he had heard the truth of Damien’s threat. His spirits somewhat restored, Damien turned on his heel and stalked in the direction of the doors, not bothering to greet his hosts. He wanted to drink himself to oblivion. If he was lucky, he would pass out and forget about the bewitching Josephine with her sweet cherry lips and captivating green eyes.

Chapter 8

Jo wandered through the halls of her home in search of her errant maid Sarah, who was supposed to inform her as soon as her brother departed for his club. She expected James and Belle to call on her within the hour and they relied on the utmost discretion for their meeting.

Secrecy and discretion aside, Jo’s mind refused to rid her of little nuisances like a certain marquis and his delectable kiss, which was a cause for concern. For if her mind remained fixed on kisses and heated stares instead of on Lady Constance, a blunder would be imminent. 

All of a sudden Sarah barreled down the hallway, her face awash with relief when she spotted Jo. “My lady, I’ve been searching for you everywhere,” she rushed to say, out of breath.

“Well, here I am. Where is my brother? I do not know whether he’s left or hides in one of the closets.”

“Oh yes, my lady, he left moments before the marquis arrived.”

Jo stilled. “The marquis?”

Her head bobbed up and down. “He is quite insistent for an audience, my lady.”

“Am I not to have some peace?” Jo complained and turned on her heel and instructed over her shoulder, “Please send a note to Lady Belle that I will receive her in a quarter of an hour. I should be rid of the devil by then.”

Her pace brisk as she made her way to the drawing room, she cursed her luck, yet was secretly pleased. Had he come to badger her for being caught alone with Craven? Perhaps she may even receive a kiss. Her cheeks flushed at the notion and she entered the drawing room rather breathless.

“My lord,” she murmured when she spied him gazing out of the windows, his back to her.

At the sound of her voice, he turned around and Jo suppressed a simpering sigh at the sight of him. His hair seemed to have lost a battle with wind, tangled in a thick mass that never seemed to find any order on his head. A day’s growth of beard coated the lower half of his face, lending him the appearance of a polished pirate. Eyes filled with promise bored in to hers as he shortened the distance between them.

“My lady,” he murmured, capturing her hand in his. “You look ravishing as always.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sensation of his skin touching hers. Of their own accord her lashes lowered to gaze at where his hand held hers. Her hand was pale and small against the tanned strength of his; his touch, while strong, was gentle. Jo watched, transfixed, as he lifted her hand to his mouth. With his gaze locked on hers, he pressed a warm kiss to the palm of her hand. Though not the first time he had kissed her hand, it seemed more intimate, more meaningful.

Be still my traitorous heart
.

The pressure of his mouth touching her skin sent a shiver up her whole body and before she recovered her breath, he lowered her hand and released it. Jo pressed her lips together to contain her disappointment and hoped she appeared disapproving instead of doe eyed.

“My lord, this is an unexpected surprise.” Not as unexpected as her sudden affections, she thought dryly. She would have to find a way to balance the scale, since it had tipped right into his rakish charm. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I wish to call a truce.”

Taken aback, she blinked. “A truce implies a war of some kind and we are hardly enemies.”

“Yet, I would not call us friends,” he murmured with half a smile.

Right. Jo wanted to summon up annoyance, which was far more preferable to this heated, almost painful awareness of him. But his strength, his confidence, it appealed to her in every damnable way. A truce was out of the question. 

“It seems to be the way of things, for our encounters to end in an awkward manner.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

He hadn’t moved, yet somehow he appeared closer, and Jo resisted the urge to take an involuntary step backward. “Yes.”

“I see.”

“Then you would understand if I did not agree to accept your boon. I would prefer you kept your distance.”

He stared down at her, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t read, and a hint of unmistakable amusement.  “I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

“You should leave,” Jo said after a moment.

“I will leave, Josephine, but I warned you would not like what happened if I found you alone with Craven again.”

“
You
did not find me alone with him.”

“True, but that does not change the fact that you were alone with him. I will say this only once more—stay away from Craven. Next time I hear a whisper of the two of you together, I will throw you over my knee and give you the spanking you deserve. Did you kiss him again?”

His low whisper set her cheeks aflame, but she remained silent.

His eyes hardened.

Jo folder her arms over her chest and his eyes lowered to her bosom. How vexing this transformation was: from the seductive gentleman to the dominating male in a heartbeat.

“No, I did not kiss him, he kissed me.”

Jo watched a flurry of emotions passed his face. Anger, jealousy, desire, murder, all raged together forming such a rousing result she wished she had lied.

“Do not be mad; it will never be repeated again. He thought only to teach me a lesson. He thought I meant to make you jealous.”

His eyes narrowed upon hearing that. “Did you mean to?”

“Of course not. But what else was he supposed to think with you appearing around every nook and crook?”

Some of his anger faded away, but not all. She noted this with relief, though she remained displeased. Still, she did not pull away when his arm lifted to trace a finger across the line of her jaw.

Her footman chose that moment to arrive, followed by Belle.

Drat.

Her friend’s eyes widened in mock surprise when she spotted Jo’s guest. “Oh my, I did not realize you had a caller, Jo.”

“Oh, it’s quite all right. The marquis was just about to leave.”

His smile did not quite reach his eyes when he replied, “Yes, I still have some business I need to see to.”

“Let us hope your business does not give you a black eye.”

His lips quirked. “Doubtful.”

“Oh I don’t know, my lord, visiting a dragon in its lair is far different from kicking a dog when it’s down.”

Jo straightened when he took a menacing step forward, but Belle’s dry voice halted his advance.

“Should I perhaps come back another time? I seem to have interrupted a personal matter.”

Jo shot her a glare. “Do not dare leave. Damien is guided by a misplaced sense of duty to protect me. Apparently my brother is not a good enough a guardian.”

St. Aldwyn straightened his coat. “If your brother did a good enough job at keeping an eye on his charge, I would not have to.”

“I daresay my brother would argue with that.”

“Well by all means, where is the old fellow?”

“Listen, you oversized bull, perhaps you would care to tell me why an notorious rogue like yourself, and a somewhat amateurish one, like Westfield, feels the need to follow two ladies around like we are about to set fire to London?”

They stood so close her legs almost buckled under the heat radiating from his body. He was angry, too. His eyes were hard, while his face could have been carved in stone. 

Belle, who stared with acute interest at the two of them, moved to take a seat on the settee.

“Now that, Jo,” her friend said as she gazed at Damien as if he was a reptile to be stomped on, “is a good question.”

Astutely, he must have sensed he had stepped into murky waters because he took a step back, although the hardness never left his eyes as they bore into her. “This isn’t over, Josephine.” 

“I beg to differ, my lord.”

Jo watched Damien take his leave with a distant sense of detachment. After they rescued Lady Constance, she planned to depart for the country for a much needed reprieve from temptation. 

“Well that was...interesting,” Belle murmured.

“Interesting would not be the word I’d use to describe this mess.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t,” Belle said, her smile knowing. “You and St. Aldwyn appeared pretty intimate.”

“We kissed,” Jo admitted on a sigh, and when Belle only lifted a brow she continued, “After he caught me kissing Craven in the gardens.” Jo left out the part where he vowed he would seduce her. 

Her friend’s eyes lit with intrigue. “You won the wager and kissed St. Aldwyn?” 

“You don’t need to sound so pleased,” Jo muttered. 

“Of course I am pleased! You are far too solemn with all your projects.”

Jo shrugged. She preferred her projects over petty flirtations. Her eyes flicked beyond Belle where James’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. With a gasp Jo hurried forward, motioning him to enter and shut the door.

“Are you mad? You are not supposed to be seen,” Jo admonished.

James returned her rebuke with one of his charming smiles. “I became tired of lurking behind the tree in your back yard. If I’m not mistaken, that’s your method.”

“One of the servants may have spotted you.”

“Oh hush, Jo,” Belle joined in, “I’m sure we can provide a distraction for him to slip out unnoticed.”

“Let us hope so. I doubt a distraction big enough exists to hide a mountain. If my brother returns, he will notice a huge hulking form tip-toeing around the halls.”

James nudged Jo playfully. “I’ll put on my best charm if we are caught.”

Jo shook her head and turned to Belle. “Have you managed to retrieve Lady Constance’s schedule?”

Belle nodded. “Not an easy task, but I managed to learn some of her activities. She rarely ever leaves the house without her husband and when she does, she is always accompanied by two lackeys, but it is also rumored two more men always follow in the crowd, unseen.”

“Damnation. So it’s true,” James muttered.

“There is, however, one moment when she is alone…at the dressmaker’s shop. They don’t accompany her inside, but wait outside and watch the entrance.”

James’s eyes held wonder as he gazed at Belle. “How did you manage to retrieve all that information?”

“I have my resources.” Belle lips twitched in an impish manner.

“Then perhaps,” Jo murmured distractedly, “we should snatch her in the dressmakers shop.”

“That can work, but the men will see you enter. We cannot take that chance,” James said with a shake of his head.

“They won’t see us because we will already be in the shop, posing as shop girls.” Belle’s eyes twinkled as she caught on to Jo’s plan.

Jo nodded, her eyes alight with excitement.  “Yes, we can wear wigs to cover our hair. Our only concern will be to sneak her out of the shop without being detected.”

“What about a commotion on the street?” Belle asked.

James shifted on his feet. “With all due respect, Lady Belle, your distractions never work.”

Belle gasped in mock outrage. “How rude of you to point it out, but I believe you have mistaken me for someone else. I am an expert at orchestrating commotions.”

“She’s right, James. Moreover she never fails, being remarkably good in everything she does,” Jo admitted.

“Very well, what did you have in mind?” 

“I propose my cousins assist with distraction,” she held up her hand when he would have protested, “they do not need to know the why of it and they will be in disguise, but without them we cannot hold the attention of four men, however big.”

“I don’t like it,” James muttered.

“Do not look so worried, Mr. Shaw. I assure you my cousins will prove invaluable.”

“That remains to be seen, however, once the men are distracted, we must be quick. Their attention will not be diverted for long.”

“Agreed,” Belle said. Jo noticed her words were mocking. No doubt her friend had every intention of causing a commotion so big it would capture the attention of everyone and hold them spellbound.

“What will you tell your cousins?” Jo asked, curious.

“Oh, not much, just that you are up to your usual tricks and trouble.”

A snort from Jo and a grunt from James was the only answer.

“As this will transpire in daylight, I doubt your beaus will be cause for concern, but I will sleep more peacefully if I know for certain they will not get in our way,” James muttered.

“Regardless of their continued meddling ways, they do not wander to tea parties in broad daylight. It ruins their rakish reputations.”

Belle’s laughter filled the air. “I can just see the match-making mommas rubbing their hands together in glee.”

James seemed less impressed. “If I have learned anything in life, it is not to underestimate anyone. Perhaps a peaceful slumber till noon will do the trick.”

“How will you arrange that?” Jo said, clasping her hands together.

James’s smile turned wicked and his eyes cunning. “I have my ways.”

“If you insist, but I don’t foresee any trouble from anyone other than Cartwright. He should be our main concern. While we will all be in disguise, the shopkeeper and her assistant will not. They will be the first ones Cartwright will approach.”