The Rake Read online

  The sense of euphoria began to thin like mist before the wind, a cold wind that brought disenchantment and reality crashing in on her.

  Weak in the aftermath of his own release, he withdrew from her and dropped onto the bed beside her. Almost simultaneously, the door opened. Both of them stiffened, whirling toward the sound instinctively. Fortunately, Garrett was far quicker to realize the threat than she was. He blocked her view of the door, thereby blocking the view of the person who’d entered the room.

  “My lord! I beg your pardon. I heard a noise and thought you might need assistance.”

  “Out!” Garrett roared furiously.

  The servant backed out, slamming the door behind him. Frozen in shocked horror, Demi listened as his footsteps disappeared in the direction of her aunt’s room.

  “We are in the soup now, and make no mistake,” Garrett muttered. “Or I am, at least.”

  Demi glanced at him sharply in confusion.

  His look was sardonic. “I could not have compromised you more if I had planned it that way. Or, perhaps someone did?”

  Despite the lingering aftereffects of their lovemaking, and the fear of being caught, Demi had no trouble instantly connecting his meaning. Her lips tightened. Without a word, she sat up and began to hastily adjust her clothing. He’d broken the tie at the bodice. It was too short now to put it to rights. She contented herself with lacing it to the tops of her breasts and tying a short bow. The pantalets, she discovered when she climbed off the bed and stepped into them, were in pretty much the same condition. Bunching the cloth, she tied the open edges together in the place of the broken lacing.

  After studying her a long moment, Garrett had gotten off the bed and moved to the door, belatedly shoving the bolt home. She glanced at him.

  He shrugged. “It will give us a few moments … maybe.”

  For what, she wondered? Dread? Regrets?

  There was no way out of the room beyond the door Garrett had just bolted. She could unlock it and race to her room, but that wasn’t likely to help at all. Even now, she could hear the servant tapping at her aunt’s door to report--he might not know it had been her, but he certainly knew someone from the house was in Garrett’s bed. One way or another, they would soon know who.

  Turning, she paced to the window and pulled the drapes aside. It was dark beneath the window, but she didn’t need the light to know there was no way she could safely reach the ground. If she could, she had a chance at least. Assuming her aunt didn’t race to her room immediately and check on her, she could climb the ladder the yardman had left, but she rather thought it more likely that her aunt would go directly to her room than come to Garrett’s. She would not want to confront him on such a thing without having some sort of proof of who was with him.

  “Thinking of jumping?”

  Demi sent him a look but decided to ignore than comment as she had his earlier suggestion that she’d planned this to force his hand. She supposed she had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn’t been so hurt and angry as to make those remarks before about Flemming, he might not have been so quick to assume the worst of her, to believe that she was just devious and manipulative enough to have decided to seduce him so that he’d be forced to do the gentlemanly thing and marry her. It still rankled. Unreasonable as she knew it was, she resented that he’d been so easily convinced that she was inherently evil.

  Of course, if his judgment had not already been impaired by the fact that he was pretty well into his cups, she probably wouldn’t have seduced him so easily either.

  She was still angry, upset that he was only human after all, that he wasn’t as astute, or as perfect, as she’d believed, and irritated with herself for trying to find excuses for him, even now, when he was being a complete horse’s ass.

  “You are not, surely, that loathe to have me instead of Flemming?”

  He was seated on the bed, propped up by a mound of pillows, his legs crossed before him. She sent him a narrow-eyed glare and succumbed to the urge to lower herself to his level. “Truthfully, at the moment I don’t see a ha’penny’s worth of difference between the two of you,” she snapped angrily and marched from the window to the door, putting her ear to it. There was a great deal of activity down the hall now and above, too, in the servants’ quarters in the attic.

  Her aunt had sent the serving man to check the maids.

  She was tempted to ease the door open to see if the hall had cleared and there might be a chance of dashing, unnoticed, to her room. Unnerved by the notion, she hesitated, gnawing her lower lip while she considered if the timing was the best she could hope for. A sound from the other side of the room captured her attention, and she glanced toward Garrett. She saw that he was looking at the window.

  Her heart skipped a beat, but a surge of hope rushed through her. Sarah would almost certainly have put together the commotion. Leaving the door, she moved to the window again, this time pushing it up and leaning out. In the shadows below, she could see movement. “Who’s there?” she whispered as loudly as she dared.

  “Shhh! Fitzhugh’s movin’ the ladder.”

  In a few moments, Sarah’s worried face appeared through the shadows. “I hadn’t figured to need this bleedin’ thing, but I’m that glad I told Jamie to leave it.” She climbed over the window sill and into the room. “Down with ye now, Miss, while there’s still time.”

  Demi stared at Sarah. “What are you going to do?”

  “Lady Dragon’s expectin’ to find a female in here. I wouldn’t want ta disappoint her.”

  Demi grabbed Sarah’s arm. “Don’t! She’ll dismiss you without a reference. I know you mean well, but I can’t let you take the blame for me.”

  Sarah shook her head. “Go on, now. I’ll be fine. Don’t ye be worryin’ about me. Mr. Fitzhugh has promised to find a place for me, an’ I know he’s a man of his word. Not that I wouldn’t have done it anyway, mind you. I’m careful with my money and I’ve a bit tucked away for emergencies.”

  Still, Demi hesitated. “I’ll miss you, Sarah. Maybe … maybe I could convince Mr. Flemming to hire you on,” she said doubtfully.

  Sarah patted her cheek. “We’ll worry about that later, if ye don’t mind. I climbed into yer room and barricaded the door, but it won’t take them long to break it down if they’re a mind to. Go before we both get tossed out on our ear. Ye can’t do me any good if ye’ve no place ta lay yer own head.”

  Nodding, Demi threw a last look at Garrett. He was sitting on the edge of the bed now, she saw, frowning at her and Sarah. Without a word, she turned her attention to her task, climbed carefully through the window, and made her way down the ladder shakily. When she’d stepped off, Fitzhugh caught the ladder and moved it down to her window.

  It wasn’t nearly as nerve wracking, she discovered, to climb up the ladder as it had been to go down it. When she’d climbed through, Fitzhugh took the ladder down and disappeared into the darkness with it. Letting out a tremulous sigh of relief, Demi tugged the gown off, hid it in the bottom of her armoire and dragged her night gown over her head.

  Staring at her bed uncertainly for several moments, she finally tiptoed across the room and listened at the door. In a few moments, she heard footsteps coming quickly down the servants’ stairs, striding down the hall and a few moments later a low voiced conversation between the servant and her aunt. She couldn’t make out what either of them were saying, but she was fairly certain she had the gist of it. He was telling her aunt that Sarah was the only maid missing, no doubt.

  After a few moments, her aunt’s door was closed and the servant made his way back down the hall and took up his position near the main stairs again.

  He’d been sent to catch her when she came out.

  Poor Sarah.

  Unsettled by the chaos she’d created, Demi moved back to her bed and climbed in, wondering if she had done the wrong thing by taking the coward’s way out, despite Sarah’s insistence. She knew Sarah was right in one respect, though. She couldn’t hel
p Sarah if she couldn’t help herself, and Sarah had already taken the step of coming down. She would still have been in trouble, but possibly not nearly as much. She might have been able to think of a reasonable excuse for being downstairs in the middle of the night, or at least something that wouldn’t get her instantly dismissed. Now she didn’t have that option.

  She was still wondering what Sarah would do when she heard a door open. Leaping from the bed, she raced across the room on tiptoe and planted her ear against the door panel.

  “There ye are, ye brazen hussy! Lady Moreland left word yer to pack at once an’ take yerself off.”

  “Did she?” Lord Wyndham said coolly. “Well, in that case, I think I should take myself off, as well. Have my carriage readied. I’ll send my man around in the morning to collect my things.”

  “But … but, my lord! It’s the middle of the night. The stablehands’re all abed … and her ladyship won’t be at all happy with this.”

  “Her happiness, of course, is my first concern,” Garrett responded sardonically.

  “I beg yer pardon, my lord. I only meant that her ladyship would not want ye ta feel as if ye must leave tonight.”

  “Nevertheless, as it happens, I find I’m far too eager to shake the dust of Moreland Abbey to wait for a more agreeable hour … and, in any case, I must see that Sarah is safely settled at the inn. I might just as well … enjoy the remainder of the night there.”

  The door was closed again. After a few moments, she heard Sarah and the manservant move off. Devastated, Demi turned and stared at her bed for several moments and finally moved across the room and climbed in.

  She’d thought she was willing to face anything only to be with Garrett one last time before he vanished from her life forever, but she’d never expected anything even nearly as horrendous as what had happened. Not only had she succeeded in thoroughly disgusting Garrett of her, but she’d gotten Sarah discharged.

  She was almost sorry she hadn’t leapt from Garrett’s window.

  On the other hand, it seemed unlikely it would have ended things for her, or changed anything for the better for anyone else. Sarah had rushed to her rescue the moment she’d heard the commotion. Her aunt would probably still have blamed her for Demi’s faults, probably would still have discharged her without a reference--and she would probably have ended up crippled, still married to Flemming, but no longer able to outrun him.

  The only thing she could’ve done to help Sarah was not to have gone at all and, upon reflection, it had been disastrous all the way around. She wondered what had possessed her to say the things she had, to make Garrett think she was such a terrible person. She’d been angry and hurt, but that wasn’t an excuse for adding stupidity to the situation. She supposed, maybe in the darkest part of her mind, she’d thought some of those things or it wouldn’t have occurred to her to say them at all, but she hadn’t done any of it for that reason, and now she’d never be able to convince Garrett that she hadn’t. Even if he allowed her to explain, even if he accepted it because he wanted to, in the back of his mind that seed of doubt must always remain.

  Sighing, she lay back against her pillows and pulled the covers up, trying to dredge up enough self pity to indulge in a good cry. Unfortunately, the magnitude of her transgressions was such that she was too shocked even to find that tiny refuge of relief. Eventually, however, exhaustion overwhelmed her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The room was bright with light when the maid tapped at her door the following morning. Demi bolted upright in bed, certain at first that it was the summons from her aunt that she’d been more than half expecting from the moment she’d escaped detection the night before.

  “I’ve brought a tray to break your fast,” said a feminine voice from the other side of the panel that Demi didn’t recognize.

  She stared blankly at the door for several moments, trying to bring the blurred image into focus even while she worked on making sense of the confusion in her mind. Finally, she saw that she’d unbolted the door the night before and fell back onto her pillows, grateful she’d remembered to do so since it meant she didn’t have to get out of bed. “Come!” she slurred sleepily, grabbing her coverlet and pulling it over her head as she rolled onto her side.

  The night before crashed down upon her, driving sleep beyond her grasp as she listened disinterestedly to the maid’s footsteps as she crossed the room and set the tray on the table near the bed. The smells of tea and fresh baked bread wafted to her. Instead of a welcome, familiar smell, it made her feel vaguely nauseated.

  “Lady Moreland says to tell ye the seamstress is here for yer final fitting and not to keep her waiting too long. I can help ye dress if ye like, Miss Demitria.”

  Demi groaned. “I don’t see much point in dressing if I’m to have the woman in here pulling it off directly,” she muttered sullenly. “Just give me a few moments to wake up and she can come up.”

  “Yes, miss,” the maid said and disappeared again.

  When the door had closed, Demi flung off the covers and sat up. Her head was pounding, but that was hardly surprising given her activities the night before and the fact that she’d probably not slept more than four or five hours at the most. With an effort, she dragged herself from the bed and moved to the washstand to bathe.

  She wondered as she did so what she was going to do about the maid’s gown she’d filched from the laundry, and the damaged pantalets. Sarah would have helped her cover her transgressions, but Sarah was gone and she was completely on her own now.

  In truth, she couldn’t find that she cared a great deal any longer whether her aunt found out or not. She wasn’t certain that she’d ever cared. She simply hadn’t wanted to be discovered before she could do what she set out to do and afterwards she had been determined to make certain she wasn’t discovered so that Garrett couldn’t accuse her of having done it to trap him into marrying her. There was no longer much danger of that now that he was gone. In a few days, she knew she would be marrying Flemming, so it didn’t seem to matter whether it was discovered after she’d left or not.

  She finally set it aside, realizing that she wasn’t in any state of mind to consider either the importance of covering her tracks or a plan to do so that might have some chance of success. When she finished bathing, she moved to the armoire and found a fresh pair of pantalets, stockings, and a chemise and sat down to dress herself. She couldn’t put her corset on properly without help, but she donned it haphazardly, realizing the seamstress would no doubt want to adjust it anyway.

  She was tying her garters when a knock came on her door once more. Listlessly, she pulled her dressing gown over her shoulders and called out permission to enter. The seamstress, followed by her two assistants entered the room carrying several boxes. To her surprise, she had discovered the first time they’d come for a fitting that her aunt had actually commissioned two new day gowns and a walking dress besides the wedding gown.

  Under the circumstances, she hadn’t been terribly excited, even though it was the first time that she could remember actually getting gowns that had been made specifically for her. She tried to dredge up some pleasure as the women opened the boxes and displayed the finished gowns, but they had been designed with her position as the pastor’s wife in mind and were far more serviceable and practical than lovely.

  Nevertheless, when her aunt came in to observe the proceedings, she did her best to appear both resigned--which she was--and pleased--which she wasn’t.

  A wave of nausea washed over her again when the wedding gown was brought out. The dress was not to her taste, but she rather thought it was what the dress represented that caused her distress. Regardless, she said nothing, allowing them to push and pull and turn her once they had it on her and had adjusted it.

  The dress didn’t fit her particularly well she saw when she was allowed to study it in the mirror above her dressing table, but then, since everything she’d owned previously had been made for Phoebe, she wasn’t accustomed to havin
g gowns that fit particularly well anyway. When she’d looked it over long enough to appear at least a little interested, she turned away again.

  “The veil,” her aunt instructed, gesturing toward the one box remaining on her bed.

  Demi’s belly clenched and a feeling of uneasiness washed over her. Without a word, she sat on the bench and allowed one of the seamstress’s assistants to comb and arrange her hair and then attach the cap and veil that went with the gown.

  “There. Stand up and let me have a look at you.”

  Sighing, Demi stood and turned slowly so that her aunt could examine her. Finally, Alma Moreland nodded. “It will do. Thank you, Mrs. Sloan. You may go.”

  When the seamstress and her assistants had left, Lady Moreland fixed her with a look that brooked no argument. “Mr. Flemming is waiting at the church. Can I depend upon you to behave suitably? For I must tell you I have had quiet enough of your belligerence of late and I don’t mean to deal with it today of all days. It’s to be a quiet wedding, naturally, all things considered, but we must have witnesses.”

  The wave of nausea rushed back. “Today?” Demi asked faintly. “It’s today?”

  Lady Moreland shrugged. “You made it clear you had no interest in the proceedings. You cannot complain now that you were not kept informed of the arrangements. Now, you can either comport yourself as the young lady I brought you up to be, or I can summon a couple of footmen and have your dosed with laudanum to assure us that you will be compliant. Which is it to be?”

  As horrifying as the suggestion was, Demi felt an urge to request the laudanum. She rather relished the thought of being oblivious to what was happening. “You do not need to summon the footmen,” she said quietly. “But … perhaps a little laudanum … just to settle my nerves?”

  Lady Moreland eyed her suspiciously but finally nodded and moved to the door and grasped the bell pull, then hesitated and turned to look at Demi speculatively. “Come along to my room. I’d just as soon it wasn’t common knowledge that you’d had to be sedated to go through with the wedding.”