Rake Most Likely To Rebel

‘You promised me sanctuary in exchange for my secret.’ She stood and pierced him with narrow-eyed speculation. How had he lost the upper hand? She had played him and now, somehow, he was the one in violation.

‘Is this how an Englishman keeps his word? By interrogating a lady?’ Her retort was a powerful dismissal. Manners dictated that he should rise, too, but he knew where that would lead if he didn’t change the direction of this conversation. It would lead to farewell and he had not yet got what he came for. Her manoeuvre had been skilfully done. She’d put his own leave-taking into motion, taking control of the interaction out of his domain.

Haviland rose. He was skilful, too. He wasn’t going to be outflanked. He smiled charmingly. ‘You are right, of course. My curiosity has got the better of my manners. I can do better if you would give me a chance. Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the park? It’s a lovely day, and I’d prefer not to walk alone. Or should I ask your brother?’ He did not think she needed the approval. He’d added the request for formality’s sake. He didn’t want to risk angering the eccentric Leodegrance. It was also a goad. She wouldn’t refuse a dare. She was old enough to make her own decisions as she’d exhibited last night. A woman who kissed like that didn’t live under her brother’s thumb.

‘There’s no need to ask him,’ she said too quickly. ‘I’ll send for my hat and gloves.’ He was not prepared for the odd look that crossed her face ever so briefly. Was that fear? Anxiety? She was hiding something, that much was clear. Perhaps it was nothing more than the fact that she hadn’t told her brother she’d met him last night. And perhaps it was something more. Maybe Alyssandra Leodegrance was a woman with secrets.

Chapter Seven (#ulink_a8a37f00-7bf7-5354-a2ac-c180f7f61879)

In for a sou, in for a livre. Alyssandra drew a deep, steadying breath and slipped her arm through his with a confidence comprised mostly of bravado. She couldn’t cry off now for at least two reasons. First, she’d promised her brother she’d keep Haviland close even if the two of them disagreed on the method. Second, Haviland had come back for more. Coming back had been the plan since the moment she’d put on the blue dress. She’d not flirted with him for the simple prize of a single night and a few stolen kisses. She’d played for bigger stakes and she’d got them in spades. The only surprise was how early he’d called. He’d wasted no time coming back for more.

That in itself was impressive. It was something of a feat for him to have made it this far. ‘How did you find our home?’ she asked as they made the short walk to the park. ‘It’s hardly common knowledge.’ For an outsider, was the implied message. There were plenty of people who knew where they lived. The hôtel had been in the Leodegrance family since the sixteen hundreds. But everyone who knew them knew Antoine did not receive visitors. It was difficult to imagine which of their acquaintances would have given up that information to an Englishman. His only connection to them would be through the salle d’armes and while his skill was respected, he was still an outsider. Surely, no one there would have told him.

‘By trial and error mostly. Shopkeepers.’ His eyes rested on her. ‘I did not think it would prove to be such a secret.’

‘My brother likes his privacy,’ she answered shortly, making sure he heard the warning in that and the caution not to come again. Visitors were not welcome.

‘And you? Do you like your privacy as well?’ Haviland was probing now and not so subtly.

‘When I want company, I go out.’ Her retort was pointed, in the hopes of dissuading him from pursuing this line of question. It would be a good time to let the subject drop. They’d arrived at the wide gates of the Luxembourg Gardens, and there was a small crowd of people to navigate: nannies with children, children with kites and boats for sailing in the fountains. She was conscious of Haviland’s hand moving to the small of her back to negotiate the knots of people at the entrance.

Even the smallest, most mundane touch from him sent a jolt through her. Some men just knew how to touch a woman. Haviland North was one of them. Etienne’s touch had been comfortable, but nothing like this. If a simple touch from him could ignite such a reaction, it made one wonder what other more intimate touches could do.

‘Like last night?’ he said once they’d found their way clear of the people at the entrance. Touches like last night? Those had certainly been more intimate. It took her a moment to remember where they’d left the conversation. Then she realised with no small amount of disappointment he was not talking about touches, but about company.

‘Did you come looking for me or for any company in general?’ His tone was edged with ice. He’d misunderstood her answer. He was thinking she was a loose woman, looking for intimate male company whenever and wherever it pleased her. She wanted him to be warm and charming as he had been last evening, as he had been before he knew who she was and everything had turned into a fencing match of the verbal variety. Her identity had made him wary as she’d known it would.

‘You approached me, as I recall. You crossed the room.’ It would be entertaining to banter with him if so much wasn’t at stake. He was clever and bold, not afraid to say the audacious. It made conversation an adventure, wondering what would come next, what her response would be. ‘I hardly think it’s fair to blame me.’

He shrugged, contemplating, his eyes on her mouth. ‘If I had known who you were from the start, it might have changed the, ah, “direction” of the evening. There’s no denying being who you are complicates things. I kissed the sister of my fencing instructor. Surely, you can understand the precarious position that puts me in.’

Kissed was a relative understatement and they both knew it. They’d acted precipitously. She’d been a stranger to him. They’d owed each other nothing but passion in those moments. Then she’d become someone and everything changed.

‘And I kissed my brother’s star pupil. Certainly, you can understand the position that puts me in.’

He gave a wry smile. ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. What position is that, exactly?’

She met his smile with a coy one of her own. They were expert wits toying with one another the way expert fencers tested the skills of their opponents. How much to reveal? How much to conceal? ‘The position of deciding whether or not I can trust you. There’s so much to consider if we were to become, shall we say, entangled.’ It was hard to play cool with his body so close to hers, his eyes lingering every so often on her mouth, just enough to remind her of what their mouths could do. She had to resist. She could flirt all she liked, but ultimately, resistance was in her best interest. She needed to keep him close, but not too close. Too much intimacy and he would start asking more questions.

‘What is there to consider?’ he drawled, playing his end of the game with audacious charm. He was overtly in pursuit, driving her towards a particular conclusion to this conversation by stripping away her objections.

But she knew the game. Alyssandra ticked off the considerations on her fingers. ‘First, I must consider your motives. Are you using me to gain an entrée with my brother? If so, it won’t work. I don’t appreciate being made an intermediary pawn and my brother doesn’t receive anyone. Second, I must ask myself what kind of liaison are you looking for? Based on what I’ve seen of your like-minded countrymen, I can only assume you’re looking for a short-term sexual companion, an exotic adventure to write home about. That, too, is an unappealing motivation. I have no desire to become an Englishman’s souvenir, a story that is trotted out in his clubs back home when he’s sloshed with brandy and reminiscing.’

Her words were sharp as she laid down her terms. She’d meant them to be. She wanted him to understand she would not be used no matter how strong their attraction. But Haviland merely laughed and gave her a wide smile. ‘I agree entirely. Neither option sounds even remotely appealing. Those are not things I would ever want for myself.’ That wide smile almost disarmed her.

Almost. Agreement was a most effective strategy and while she hadn’t expected it, she was ready for it. ‘I suppose you want me to ask what do you want?’ She tried for a bored tone, or at least one that suggested she’d travelled this path before when, in reality, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his blue eyes and her pulse speeded up in anticipation of his answer. What could a man with a perfect life possible want that he didn’t already have?

His voice dropped, low and private, and the size of her world shrank with it until nothing existed but him, her and the tree at her back. ‘What if I said I was looking for something else—an escape? What if I could offer that same escape to you? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be interested. I can see the tension in you. Your life is not a free one. I can see it.’ Those blue eyes dropped to her mouth again. ‘Why not escape, even if it’s just for a little while, to find pleasure with a man who knows how to provide it?’

He was bold. ‘Are you propositioning me?’ She could be bold, too. The game was heating up. Too bad she could do nothing more than let the pot boil.

Haviland shook his head. ‘No, nothing as base as that. I’m merely asking you to consider the possibilities, that’s all.’ He smiled and leaned towards her ear, his voice a whisper. ‘I have already considered the possibilities and found them positively delectable.’

She was going to swoon right there and she might have if she hadn’t been so sure that was what he was after. It took all of her sangfroid to muster the words, ‘Has a woman ever said no to you, Haviland North?’

He grinned. ‘No, not that I recall.’

She leaned into him, letting her mouth hover as near to him as she dared without touching. ‘Then this is your lucky day. I’m about to be your first.’

He chuckled, low and throaty, a sexy invitation to repeal her decision. He didn’t take rejection like any man she’d ever known. ‘Then I shall delight in helping you change your mind.’

‘You flirt like you fence, all balestra and lunge.’

‘It’s an aggressive combination.’ His response was sexy and sharp in its immediacy. His eyes hooded so she couldn’t see them, his forehead pressed to hers. ‘So you did know me before last night. So you have seen me fence.’ His tone was flintily accusatory.

She bit her lip. ‘I did say your reputation preceded you. It stands to reason that you’re a phenomenal fencer if my brother is willing to take you on.’

‘So you did.’

She swallowed. He was going to kiss her. And he might have if Madame Aguillard hadn’t swept down upon them with her little coterie of friends.

‘There you are, monsieur le vicomte! And how nice to see you, too, mademoiselle.’ She nodded at Alyssandra. ‘You’re out twice in as many days,’ she added cattily, her eyes drifting between the two of them, but it was clear who the centre of her attention was. ‘My friends have been dying to meet you, Amersham.’ She gushed in rapid French to Haviland.

‘Je suis enchanté.’ Haviland smiled, overlooking the familiarity, but it was a polite smile only, nothing at all like the wicked smiles he’d been giving her. Alyssandra took a petty satisfaction in knowing he preferred sparring with her over Madame Aguillard’s company.

‘I am giving a little dinner party tonight,’ she said after introductions had been made. ‘Perhaps you and your friends would like to come?’ She stepped close to Haviland, affording him a view of her bosom if he so chose to look. Alyssandra noted Haviland did not. It was another small victory and one Madame Aguillard was well aware of. But she was not a woman who admitted defeat easily. She put a confiding hand on his arm. ‘There will be cards for Monsieur Gray and ladies for Monsieur Carr. I have some especial friends who would like to meet him particularly and I’m sure you and I can find something special for you, too.’

Alyssandra wanted to skewer the woman for her audacity. She watched Haviland step back, freeing his arm from the woman’s touch. ‘I appreciate the invitation, but I must respectfully decline.’ He offered no reason. The conversation mopped up after that with polite small talk and Madame Aguillard wandered off to join other groups.

‘She’ll be back,’ Alyssandra said as the woman took her friends and left.

Haviland gave her a small, private smile. ‘Well, what I’m interested in is right here.’

But for how long? They started walking, a slow, steady stroll, taking in the lush greenery of spring, the pleasant, warm air of the day. She was thankful for the silence as they strolled. Her mind was whirling and she needed a minute to think. How did she fulfil her promise to watch Haviland? How did she keep him from asking too many questions? How did she keep herself from rushing headlong into this forbidden attraction while not losing Haviland in the process? Or worse, losing herself? It would be too easy to capitulate to his charm, to set herself up for heartbreak when he left. How to balance all this?

The audacious Madame Aguillard might be routed for now, but the lesson was learned. Haviland was a person of interest to the women of Paris and a healthy male in his prime. Madame Aguillard might not be to his taste, but he wasn’t a man used to being alone. It had crossed her mind as she’d watched Madame Aguillard jockey for position that if she didn’t claim him, someone would.

Maybe the real question to ask was how much was she herself willing to risk? Could she have it all? Could she reach for the pleasure Haviland promised, the escape he offered to explore with her, and still preserve her secrets? It was already the end of April.

‘How long will you be in Paris?’ She cocked her head to look up at him, letting her eyes give away a little of her contemplation.

His eyes danced in response. ‘Long enough for you to take me up on my offer. Changed your mind already, have you?’ He paused. ‘All teasing aside, we plan to stay until June, unless Nolan offends any gamblers or Brennan angers any husbands. Then, it will be sooner.’

‘Your friends sound delightful.’ She had six weeks at most. Surely she could keep her secret and have her pleasure, too, if she dared.

He nodded. ‘They are. The very best of friends a man could hope for, actually. Perhaps you’ll get to meet them.’

‘Then where will you go?’ She shouldn’t feel so empty at the prospect of him leaving. Her strategy depended on him leaving. She couldn’t keep up this ruse for ever. He would go on to other places, other women, and she would still be here, her world much smaller than his and likely to remain so. Don’t think on it. He is here now, yours now if you encourage him. He’s already made his offer, he is just waiting for you to accept.