Dare to Risk it All by Emma V Leech
Chapter 4
Miss Knight,
I am being bullied on all sides by merciless females. Very well. I surrender, if only to get a moment's peace!
―Excerpt of a letter from Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen to Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight).
2nd December 1840, Rowsley Hall, Derbyshire.
Raphe put one hand to Miss Cadogan’s waist, the other to her face, caressing her soft cheek with his thumb and tilting her head to just the right angle.
“You should run,” he murmured, for it was only sporting to give her a last chance.
“I never run,” she replied, though her voice trembled, but then her eyelids fluttered shut and the invitation seemed to be the thing he had been waiting for his entire life. He lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers. It was nothing, barely a kiss at all, not for a man who had given and received kisses in such quantity. That was the problem, though. It had been quantity over quality, for there had never been a kiss like this before.
The moment his lips touched hers, sensation ripped through him, scouring every previous kiss. It was like a tidal wave, sweeping away all that had gone before like so much debris, cleaning his soul of the errors of the past and leaving it scrubbed raw and unprotected. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled her closer into his arms and his mouth was seeking more. What little wit remained was just enough to remember she was innocent, that he could not plunder this gift, for it was of value. This woman, this moment, it was forever, not something to be stolen, then thrown away and forgotten. So, he teased and seduced with delicate brushes of his lips, sipping and nipping at her mouth and playing with the considerable skill he had attained, encouraging her tentative responses. Not that she was tentative for long.
Her hands slid up over his chest, curling about his neck and holding on, a possessive grip upon him that made triumph sing through his veins like warm brandy. He tugged at the ribbons on her bonnet, casting it aside without caring where it fell. His hands caressed her back, the narrow span of her waist and the lush curve of her hip as she came alive in his arms. Needing more, he slid his tongue across her lips, seeking entry, and experienced another surge of victorious happiness as she opened to him. The pleasure of it was indescribable, his wicked nature stealing her innocence by slow degrees and revelling in her submission. He taught her the way of it, the slick, sinuous dance of tongues and—though she clearly did not know what to do—she was a quick study, catching on at once. The kiss grew hotter, deeper, and his mind cast about for a place they could go, somewhere secluded.
His mouth left hers to taste the sweet spot beneath her ear that he had wanted to explore earlier. He breathed her in, just as he had imagined, and grew giddy with the scent of her as his hand slid up her waist, up her ribcage to her breast. He cupped and squeezed, the voluptuous handful sending a bolt of pure lust to his groin. He moaned and nipped at her neck.
“R-Raphe,” Miss Cadogan said, sounding dazed.
“God, you’re delicious. You smell divine, like honey and vanilla, so tempting, so sweet. I could eat you.”
“R-Raphe—I….”
He captured her mouth again, and she sighed, melting into him for a moment before pulling away.
“Raphe,” she managed as he sought her mouth again. She turned away this time, pushing at his chest. “My God! You are dangerous!” she exclaimed.
Raphe froze.
“Good heavens,” she said, breathing hard as she looked up at him. “That… That was quite astonishing. Truly, I’ve never, I never dreamed… Oh my.” She collapsed against him, her head on his shoulder, clinging to him as if her knees were not sufficient to hold her upright. Perhaps they weren’t. Now he came to think of it, his own were feeling uncertain, too. Belatedly, Raphe snatched his hand from her breast as though it had burned him.
What had he done? Oh, holy mother of God. What had he done?
Raphe uttered a curse and tried to step back, to put distance between them, but she was still holding on tight. With difficulty, he attempted to steady his breathing, to calm his thundering heart, but his body was alive, thrumming with lust. Only his revulsion at how badly he had behaved held him in check for he wanted her still, beyond reason, despite knowing what he’d done was reprehensible.
“Miss Cadogan,” he said, sounding oddly hollow, or like the words came from a long way away. Not at all like his own voice. “I can only apologise. I am so dreadfully….”
She looked up at him, her pretty nose scrunching up in an adorable fashion that made him want to kiss it. He squashed the urge beneath the considerable weight of self-loathing pressing down upon him.
“Apologise?” she echoed. “What on earth for?”
“What for?” he repeated faintly. “What for?”
“That’s what I said.”
He stared at her. “Miss Cadogan. We met only last night, and I wonder it can have escaped your notice, but I nearly took your maidenhead upon a public path.”
She tutted at him. “Sometimes a night is all it takes. Dare fell in love with my sister in a matter of minutes. Not that I’m suggesting you love me,” she added hurriedly. “But you’re being silly. I asked you to stop, and you stopped. It’s not like you took advantage, and it isn’t the least bit public. We’re on the Rowsley Estate.”
“I am not being silly,” he said, irritated that she should let him off the hook so easily. He was many things, but never silly. “I took advantage of your innocence, or did you miss the part where I had my hand on your breast? For I certainly did not.”
“Of course I didn’t miss it,” she said, laughing. “It was one of the best bits, but I think you are becoming a trifle overwrought.”
It was one of her best bits, murmured his inner voice with satisfaction, recalling the lavish handful with far too much clarity. Raphe shook it off and tried to get back to the point. What was the point again? Oh, yes. “I ought never to have kissed you at all!” he said, remembering too late Lord Rothborn’s stern command to keep his hands, andevery other part of him, off Miss Cadogan. And he’d been in her company for less than twenty-four hours. Well, this was going marvellously well.
“Christ, I ought to be locked up,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “I’m not fit to be in the company of ladies.”
“Don’t be….” Miss Cadogan hesitated at the warning look he shot her. “Dramatic. Of course you are, you’re just a bit out of practise, and who can wonder when you spend all your time with light skirts and opera dancers.”
Raphe groaned. “Damnation, you ought not know the least thing about light skirts and opera dancers.”
“Whyever not? I’m unwed, not deaf, dumb, and blind. Though I ought to remind you not to swear in front of me. Not that I give a hoot, but some old tabby might overhear one day and reprimand you for it,” she pointed out reasonably, but Raphe had gone far beyond being reasonable.
He wanted to hit something or, better yet, have someone hit him. He deserved it. Perhaps he should confess to Rothborn and take his punishment. The notion did not appeal.
“Are you going to have a hysterical fit?” she asked, her green eyes alight as she studied him with concern.
“I don’t know,” Raphe muttered. His chest was tight, and he felt nauseous. What was wrong with him? All he’d had to do was not kiss Miss Cadogan, and he’d failed miserably. He rubbed at his chest with the heel of his hand. “Possibly a nervous collapse.”
He jolted as he felt Miss Cadogan’s touch upon him, a tender caress against his cheek.
“Don’t!” he yelped, terrified that he might lose control of himself and really go beyond the pale.
“Goodness me, but you’re awfully high strung,” she said, a wondering expression upon her lovely features. “I think you ought to come and sit down.”
“I don’t want to—” Raphe protested, but she tugged at his hand, pulling him inexorably towards a large tree stump at the side of the path. He gave up and allowed her to manage him. Heaven knew someone needed to, for he didn’t seem able to manage himself.
He sat down with a thud and Miss Cadogan stared down at him, considering.
“Perhaps you should put your head between your knees?” she offered.
“I am not going to swoon,” he retorted, nettled.
“Are you quite sure?” she asked.
Raphe glared at her, and then let out a breath as he saw the mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Wretched girl. I’m sorry I ever met you,” he groused.
“A common refrain,” she agreed with a shrug.
Despite himself, Raphe’s lips twitched.
“Why aren’t you married?” he demanded, wondering what kind of milk-and-water sapskulls were populating the ton if they’d been so utterly idiotic as to overlook this glorious creature.
She gave a very unladylike snort. “Because I’m dreadful,” she said, laughing at him. “As you have pointed out several times already.”
Raphe frowned. “Yes, but, no. I mean….” He shook his head, wondering what on earth he did mean. “You are dreadful, obviously, but it’s….”
“It’s?” she prompted when he didn’t answer.
Raphe remembered he wasn’t supposed to encourage any closeness between them and shrugged, looking away.
“I’m twenty-four in February,” she mused, giving a despondent sigh. “An old maid. An ape leader. On the shelf.”
“Oh, come now,” Raphe said, annoyed. He wanted to shake the men of the ton for making her feel unwanted, whilst at the same time he was glad, glad they’d not noticed what he had seen at once. “You’re hardly in your dotage. There’s bound to be some amiable chap just desperate for the opportunity to marry you.”
The thought of someone else marrying her made something cold and unpleasant squirm in his stomach, and he thought he might be sick.
She returned a faint smile that only worsened the sensation and made his chest hurt.
“You must have admirers?” he pressed, wondering if she’d give him names so he could make a list of potential victims.
“Not that I am aware of. I have a lot of friends, though, because I’m great fun,” she added with a quick grin that made him want to haul her into his lap and ravish her again. “But men don’t want a fun wife. They save that for their mistresses. They want a wife to entertain and elevate them in society, someone elegant who will make them proud, never say the wrong thing, and who will make perfect young ladies and gentlemen of their children. Does that sound like me?”
“No, thank God. It sounds tedious beyond bearing.”
“For the wife, certainly,” she retorted, putting up her chin.
Raphe laughed. “Certainly.”
“I’d make an excellent mistress, I suppose,” she said with a sigh, bending down to retrieve her bonnet, which still lay where he’d tossed it to the ground.
“Christ! Don’t say things like that!” he exclaimed, horrified.
She gave a helpless shrug, turning the bonnet in her hands and tugging fretfully at the ribbons. “And there you have it. That’s why no one wants to marry me.”
I do! a voice inside him insisted furiously. Raphe jolted, shocked beyond words. He certainly did not; he told himself sternly. He didn’t! They’d just met, for heaven’s sake. Besides, he didn’t wish to marry anyone. Well, no, not anyone,but….
“Anyway,” she carried on, blithely unaware of the explosions going off in Raphe’s brain. “Never mind that. We’d really better get back or you’ll have to explain yourself to Papa, and I think we’d best avoid that so early in the visit.”
Raphe got up at her urging. His head was still reverberating with shock at the recent revelation that he did not wish to remain a bachelor for the rest of his days, so he did not notice her implication that he would have to explain himself to her father at some point. Chastising himself severely for the entire walk back to the house, he made a solemn vow to put as much distance between himself and Miss Cadogan as possible.
Greer avoided her sister on returning, which gave her a little time on her own while she changed out of her walking dress. This was a blessing, for she was not at all prepared to face her twin. Elspeth knew her far too well.
She had known exactly what Greer was doing in remaining behind after the others had left for the house. Mama had known too, she was certain. Why Mama would allow her to behave in a manner most people would believe forward and wicked, Greer was not entirely sure. Except that Mama had her own rules about life, and certainly about love. She thought perhaps her mother had seen in Raphe what she too had seen. Before she had met him, she had been all agog to meet the shocking libertine who was always in such outrageous scrapes in the scandal sheets. She had thought she knew what kind of man he would be, and in some ways she had been right. He was dangerous and seductive, as she had experienced first-hand. When passion had got the better of him, he’d had the instincts of a predator. That was far from all, though. She had been unprepared for the lost quality she saw in him, the loneliness that clung to him like a heavy cloak, shutting out the light and keeping him apart from everyone else. No wonder he sought comfort in the arms of all those pretty light skirts. It was probably the only time he did not feel so alone. Her chest ached at the thought, and she felt the irresistible desire to take care of him, to make sure he realised he was valued and cared for. That way lay danger, though.
Innocent she might be, but not stupid and certainly not ignorant. Mama had told them all about wicked men and their wiles, and the seductive way he had drawn her into that kiss had not been the least bit surprising. Only the kiss itself had shocked her. She had not expected to feel so much. She had wanted to cry and to laugh at once. It had been so beautiful, so devastating, and yet not nearly enough. Her desire for him had shocked her. Even Mama’s frank warnings about how desire could overwhelm one had not prepared her for the way she had wanted him. All she’d been able to think about was how good it would feel to have the weight of him pressing down upon her, to feel his skin against hers. She’d wanted him to possess her in a way that had frightened her a little, but had not made her want him any less. It would not have been so terribly difficult for him to seduce her. Though she had laughed at him for being dramatic when he had pointed that out, it was closer to the truth than she was comfortable with. Greer was a hoyden, and she knew it, but she was not fool enough to get herself compromised if there was no hope of marrying the man she wanted.
She wanted him. That was undeniable. The only question was, did she want him for always, or was this simply a passing attraction that would fade in time? More pertinent still, would he ever consider marrying at all, let alone marrying her?
Pondering this question as she made her way downstairs, and consumed by memories of that decadent kiss, she was not as prepared as she ought to have been to meet Elspeth.
“Where were you?”
Elspeth stood waiting for her in the grand entrance hall, arms folded.
Greer sighed, knowing her twin was looking out for her, but rather wishing she wouldn’t.
“In my room, getting changed,” she replied, all innocence.
Elspeth snorted, aware that Greer knew that was not what she’d been asking. “I know he can be charming, but he’ll ruin you without batting an eyelid and then go on to the next girl.”
“Oh, Elspeth, I am not entirely witless.”
Elspeth’s expression was taut, but she reached out and took Greer’s hand. “I know that, and I know you think I’m interfering and trying to lord it over you because I’m married, but that isn’t it, Gee. It really isn’t.”
“I know,” Greer grumbled.
“When he arrived here,” Elspeth said, lowering her voice as they walked, “he was in a shocking state. I’ve never seen a man so out of his head. He… well, he was vile, there’s no two ways about it.”
Greer nodded. “And you think he might do it again.”
Elspeth nodded, her eyes filled with concern. “He is trying to reform. I can see that. Indeed, he is unrecognisable from the man I saw all those weeks ago. But since then, he’s not left the estate. He’s been busy working with Dare, but what happens if he returns to town?”
“I understand,” Greer said, knowing it would be foolish to disregard the warning.
“Do you?” Elspeth asked. She stopped, turning to take both Greer’s hands in hers. “You are impulsive like Mama. You know you are. And he’s dreadfully handsome, and charming when he wants to be. And you have a tender heart, Greer. I just don’t want you to fall in love with him and get hurt when he lets you down.”
“Goodness, Elspeth, I just met him and you’re speaking about falling in love!” Greer exclaimed, though the words rang hollow, for she saw the danger just as her sister did. Raphe was sinfully tempting, and Greer had never been able to resist temptation. Elspeth knew it as well as she did.
Her sister said nothing, only held her gaze. She leaned in and kissed Greer’s cheek.
“Just have a care, love,” she said, and they walked on to find the other guests.
