The Rake's Proposal

“Well…” Charlotte went on, not at all blind to the sudden tension that surrounded her, “I think I see Lady Cheshire at the lemonade table, and I could use a glass myself, so…”

And with that, she smiled and flounced away. Kate couldn’t help but catch the now familiar self-satisfied sparkle in her eyes. If only Charlotte knew that her matchmaking skills were wasted on this particular pair.

Kate could feel the heat from Ben’s gaze returning to her face. He’s waiting for me to look at him, she thought, aware that she’d have to give in to his gaze eventually. But too many other thoughts were still running through her head—had he been there all night? Had he just arrived? She couldn’t very well ask. To do so would be to admit that she’d been watching for him.

She knew she had to look. She couldn’t just stand there like a ninny, staring at the floor.

Resolved, Kate met his gaze, and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was there again—the piercing, golden heat of his eyes as they wandered over her hair, her face and down…oh, God, that damned dress. Ben made no pretense of discretion, and she went red once again as he stared unabashedly at her breasts.

“I wondered if I would see you here tonight, but I certainly didn’t expect to see so much of you,” he said with a devilish grin.

Kate, of course, said nothing. What could she say to that? She settled for fixing him with a seething glare.

A waltz struck up and Ben moved a step closer.

“Do you have permission to waltz?” he asked as he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her onto the dance floor.

“No,” she lied baldly.

“Liar.”

Before she knew what was happening, before she had a chance to refuse further, he was escorting her onto the ballroom floor, so thick with dancing couples that there was no room for escape.

She didn’t know what to do but dance. To balk now would only make people stare—even more than they already were. Kate was keenly aware of the fact that people had begun to watch them from the very moment that Charlotte had left them alone together. She could feel every eye turned their way and knew that the gossip had started. She didn’t know what they were saying, but she could count on the fact that it wasn’t complimentary. Ben was simply too scandalous, and the way he was looking at her…

“Are you always this clumsy on the dance floor?” he asked as Kate, distracted, stepped squarely on his toe. “These are new shoes.”

“If you’d given me the chance, I would have told you I didn’t want to dance with you. And is it necessary to stand so close?” she retorted, annoyed into speech.

“Don’t fuss, love,” he said, holding her even tighter. “You’ll only cause a scene.”

Kate bit her tongue, at least for the time being. He clearly didn’t care if she caused a scene or not. From what she could gather from the gossips and from what her brother casually let slip, he was used to scandal. Arguing with him would only lead to embarrassment, and protesting his proximity would just bring him closer.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, more amused at her discomfort than interested in her answer.

“I was,” she answered curtly.

At this, Ben laughed outright, although he obligingly stifled his laughter as heads turned in their direction and Kate reddened.

He changed his approach. “You know, I was hoping to have a few words with you this evening. To make peace, in fact.”

She raised a slender brow, and he continued. “You see, I suspect that you’re angry with me—”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“—and I’m not used to making women angry. So an apology is in order.”

Kate blinked in surprise. This was the last thing she had expected. In fact, she had assumed that he would be angry with her, not the other way around.

“You’re sorry, then?” she asked tentatively.

“Somewhat.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘somewhat’?”

“Well,” he answered, spinning her around, “I suppose I shouldn’t have forced you to have a drink with me last night, but I’m not sorry. And I shouldn’t have teased you so much, but I’m not sorry. And,” he said, his amber eyes wandering over her face, “I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I’m definitely not sorry.”

“Oh?” She didn’t know how she managed that. Her breath tripped in her throat, and she felt like she was melting beneath his gaze.

“But I am sorry that I told you to leave. That, sweetheart, was a real pity.”

With this, he let her go, bowed, turned and walked away.

For a moment Kate just stood there, trying to recover her composure. She’d been so focused on Ben during the waltz that she’d lost track of what was happening around her. Slowly, she realized that the music had ended, that they were no longer dancing, that they had stopped dancing some time ago. Oh, God. How long had the waltz been over? How long had she been standing there?

She turned around, trying to gather her bearings and look as if she weren’t completely flustered. Sometime in the course of their dance, he had maneuvered her back to Charlotte, who was standing along the wall with a small group of friends. They were all staring, although they tactfully averted their eyes once Kate became aware that she was the center of so much attention.

Chapter Four

“C ould you pay attention, please, Ben?”

Ben glanced up at his friend Frederick Northing, who was seated across from him at the table. The two men, as well as several other refugees, were seated in something Charlotte’s mother, the Countess of Tyndale, called the “Cerulean Room.” For the evening’s entertainment it had been given over to whist and brandy, much to her disgust.

Ben had hoped that the change of scenery would get his mind off Kate, but so far it wasn’t helping. He’d seated himself with his back to the door so that he wouldn’t have to see her as she twirled by in the arms of one suitor after another. His attempts were futile, however; he hadn’t taken into consideration the large, gilt-framed mirror that hung on the wall opposite him. It reflected everything that happened in the ballroom behind him, and each time Kate danced by—so striking, so tall, and her dress so delightfully revealing—his eyes were drawn to her.

It was that dress that had brought him out of the gaming room in the first place. He’d actually been at the party for hours, had simply decided that his best tactic would be to make a brief appearance to pacify Robert and then hide out in the gaming room until he could politely duck out.

Only it hadn’t happened that way. From the first moment that he’d noticed Kate, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Even worse, he couldn’t keep his mind off her. That was the most unusual part—he was accustomed to being attracted to a pretty face, but not to having that pretty face invade his thoughts. He definitely hadn’t meant to seek her out….

But he had, and quite underhandedly at that. He’d known that he couldn’t approach her outright, so he’d shamelessly besieged Charlotte and asked her in no uncertain terms to introduce him. He hadn’t bothered to mention that he’d introduced himself just the night before.

“I know what you’re looking at. Or should I say who?”

“You should mind your own business, Fred.”

“Ah. But my friends are my business,” Frederick replied with a smile. “You know, he’ll kill you when he finds out.”

“Who will kill me when he finds out what?”

“Sutcliff will, when he hears the latest on dit about how you have eyes on his sister.”

“Are you blind, Fred? Every man here has his eyes on her.”

“No, I’m not blind. I saw the way you were looking at her.”

“And how was that?”

“Like she’s dinner.”

Ben burst out laughing and Fred grinned.

“Well, she is rather delectable.”

“Ben, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Half the town will have your names linked by tomorrow.”

“Fred, if you don’t recall, half the town has talked about me plenty of times before.”

“Yes,” he said patiently, “and no one cares if they continue to do so. But Sutcliff is sure to care if his sister’s name starts getting bandied around at the club. I figured you’d be wise enough to stay clear of things like this. You’ve been friends for years and I’d hate to see anything come between you.”

Ben sighed and rose, stretching his arms and giving the impression of nonchalance. “Nothing will come between us. I don’t have designs on his sister. She’s just attractive, is all…habitual behavior is hard to change. Anyway, I’m about to leave, so never fear. I’ve reached my limit for dancing. Care to join me at White’s?”

“Tempting, old chap, but I haven’t suffered through this evening for naught. I’ve already made plans.”

“Oh? And who is the lucky lady?” Ben asked as he made his way to the door.

“Oh, no. You see, I—unlike you—am discreet.”

Ben snorted as he left the room. Fred had never valued public opinion highly enough to worry about discretion.

As he walked down the long hallway, he nodded to passing acquaintances. When he reached the antechamber, he retrieved his coat and shrugged it on as he stepped out into the cold spring air to find his carriage. To anyone watching, Ben appeared calm and collected.

But inside, he was completely on edge. His second meeting with Kate had left him feeling just as tense as the first had.

Damn. This would have to stop.

The situation was ridiculous, really, he thought as he climbed into his carriage and signaled for his driver to depart. Fred was right. He’d had more than enough experience with women to let any one woman turn him into a halfwit. Katherine Sutcliff was innocent and looking for a husband. He would be wise to stay away from her and she from him.

He sat back on the smooth leather seats, unsuccessfully trying to force himself to relax. The last thing he needed was to go to his club, where he’d only be surrounded by ornery old sots trying to drink and gamble themselves into oblivion. He still wouldn’t be able to remove her from his mind.

What he needed was a substitution.

As his carriage turned out of the Bannisters’ long drive, Ben called to his coachman. The carriage slowed to a stop.

“Yes, my lord?”

“I’ve changed my mind, Winters. Take me to Madame Dupont’s instead of White’s.”

“Very good, my lord.”

A quarter of an hour later, the carriage pulled up in front of a nondescript brownstone in a decent—but not too decent—part of town. Madame Dupont’s was a place rather than a person. Surely once, Ben mused as he stepped from his carriage and walked to the door, she had been a real person. But the establishment had been around for so long that the original proprietress was certainly deceased, whatever her name had been.

Currently, the proprietress was a short, round woman from Liverpool. Because she was English, everyone referred to her as Mrs. rather than Madame, although Ben doubted she’d ever experienced the respectability of marriage.

He yanked the bellpull.

The door opened, for a moment spilling yellow light and gay, female laughter onto the dark street. Ben entered, and the heavy door closed behind him. The street returned to darkness once again, and Winters tucked a blanket around his legs and settled in for a lengthy wait.

Kate was standing in the Bannisters’ antechamber, waiting for her carriage to pull up. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, not actually that late by society standards. She’d decided to go home early, although the party would last for another few hours. In fact, she’d been waiting to leave for quite a while because she had refused to depart until he had. To leave first would be to admit defeat. So she’d camped out in the ladies’ retiring room, avoiding the gossips and occasionally peeking out to see if the coast was clear.

As her carriage began to make its way through the crowded drive, she pulled her fur-lined pelisse tightly around her shoulders. Too impatient to wait for her carriage to reach the front steps, Kate stepped into the night and began to weave her way through the traffic. The moon was a mere sliver, and the only light was the brash, artificial glow of the coachmen’s oil lanterns. The driveway was cast in gloomy shadow, making her shiver as she maneuvered herself through the throng.

When she reached her carriage, the door was already open. Kate waited a moment for her driver to assist her entry, but by the time he finally made a move to alight, she was already halfway inside the cab. She waved him off, knowing she’d be faster on her own.

How strange. Owens was usually not so lax at his post.

She settled back into the deep seats as the carriage lurched into motion, reviewing the evening’s events in her mind.

Kate couldn’t believe her stupidity. She so wanted to make this whole process quick and easy but was afraid that particular goal might have been dashed that night, all in the span of a single dance.

She supposed that she was being a bit histrionic. It wasn’t as if Ben had whisked her from the ballroom and kissed her behind the curtains. Surely a waltz and a few heated glances wouldn’t ruin her completely.

Yet she’d already heard the gossip, little snippets here and there.

“The only girl he danced with all night…”

“He doesn’t usually flock to young innocents, now does he?”

“Oh, but my dear, she’s not that young…”

“Twenty-four, I hear. She’s been on the shelf for ages….”

“Ha! I heard she’s nearly thirty…innocent my foot, that’s what I say!”

Much as Kate tried to be optimistic, she was a realist at heart. Gossip like that could be very damaging, and she knew that her search for a husband had just become much more difficult.

She looked out the window, trying to gauge by her surroundings how much longer the ride would last. She was surprised to realize that she was traveling through a completely unfamiliar neighborhood.

“Owens? Have we taken a detour for some reason?”

There was no answer other than the carriage picking up speed.

“Owens? Owens? Stop this instant. Where are we going?” In desperation, Kate began pounding on the window at her side, hoping to attract the attention of any passersby. But it was too late and the night too cold and cloudy. There was no one on the street to hear her. Even screaming would do no good….

She screamed anyway. Loudly. And then she screamed once more for good measure.

The driver—who, she was now certain, was not Owens—increased his pace.

Kate began to panic. She wasn’t used to that emotion but didn’t have a clue what else she could do. There wasn’t a soul to help her, no one to notice anything amiss about the carriage. There wasn’t even anyone at Rob’s town house to notice that she was missing—Rob would be at the party for several more hours and none of the servants would be expecting her home this early. Most likely, no one would notice that she hadn’t arrived safely until morning. By that time, no end of horrible things could happen….

Kate tried to change the direction of her thoughts. If she started thinking about what might happen to her, she knew that panic would take over. She had to remain calm and focus on how she could escape.

Taking a deep breath, she squinted out the window, looking for any landmark that might tell her where the coach was headed. They were moving quickly—not conspicuously so, but as fast as possible without drawing attention. She barely had time to focus on anything long enough for it to become familiar, and since she didn’t know London very well anyway, everything she passed managed to look much the same.

The coach slowed slightly, and Kate realized that they were turning a corner. She sat up straighter, peering out the window even harder. Through the steamy glass she could make out the solid form of a row of town houses, all with shadowy doorways and black, empty windows. Surely the area was inhabited, but at this hour no one stirred.

Then she saw it—just the soft glimmer of candlelight shining from the windows of one of the narrow buildings ahead, but a sign of hope nonetheless. As the coach neared the building she could make out the form of a man climbing the steps to knock on the front door. She saw the door open, spilling light out onto the street.

Help.

It was either one of the bravest or one of the most foolhardy things that Kate had ever done. Shoving aside the possibly dangerous consequences—the man on the street might just as soon hurt her as help her—she let out a scream shrill enough to curdle the blood of a saint. Every resource she possessed went into attracting the attention of the people in the building. She leaned back across her seat, and with both legs kicked at the window. Her slippers were designed for dancing and did no damage to the glass, but they did make a solid thud.

As the carriage came abreast with the building, she rose from her seat and screamed one final time, a scream so deep that the very power of it abraded her throat.

The door of the town house opened and a woman looked out apprehensively. A man came running out behind her.

That was the last thing Kate saw before the carriage stopped abruptly, throwing her into a heap on the floor. She quickly resumed her seat, wanting to be prepared for whatever might happen next. She heard the driver quickly alight, heard heavy footsteps approach the carriage door. It opened.

Kate closed her eyes, seeking the fortitude to protect herself. She raised her reticule over her head, and with all of her might swung it down, connecting solidly with…she wasn’t sure what.

She opened her eyes. Standing in the doorway, framed by the light that filtered from the town house, stood Benjamin Sinclair, looking utterly bewildered. Without taking his eyes from her he reached up and rubbed his head.

What bloody luck.

Chapter Five

A n hour and a half later, Kate was sipping hot tea in front of a fire, a heavy wool blanket tucked around her legs. Ben had brought her inside the town house and left her in the care of a slim, mousy-looking girl named Margaret. She was in a plush, although rather ostentatious, room outfitted with overstuffed armchairs and red damask wallcovering. There were several large windows, but all were covered in thick, velvet drapery.

She hadn’t seen Ben since he’d brought her inside and was anxiously awaiting his return so she could find out where she was and what was going to happen. Kate had tried to get some answers out of Margaret, but the frail girl was not very forthcoming.

“Margaret, I am aware that I asked you this question before, but are you certain you haven’t any idea where Lord Sinclair has gone?”

“Sorry, m’lady. I know no more than you do. He just told me to make sure you stayed in this room and didn’t cause a scene.”

“Oh, he did, did he? Well, could you at least tell me where I am? So maybe I can take a guess as to where he has gone and when he might get back?”

“I’m afraid I can’t—”

“You can, or I will cause a scene!”

“Thank you, Margaret. You can get back to work now,” Ben said as he quietly entered the room. He held out a coin to Margaret, which she gladly accepted before picking up her skirts and racing from the room. As she did so, Kate noticed that the nondescript girl wore the most shocking pink stockings.

Ben gently closed the door behind Margaret, smiling as he caught the direction of Kate’s scandalized gaze. “So, we meet again. You know, I was thinking as I left the party that my evening wouldn’t be complete if Miss Sutcliff didn’t hurl some object at my head at least once. You have made my night.”

“I didn’t know who you were. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Kate just smiled faintly. “Where are we? This isn’t your house, is it?”

Ben burst out laughing for the second time that evening at something that Kate hadn’t intended to be humorous. She waited patiently for him to stop. When he didn’t, she became annoyed and began to glare.

“I’m glad I amuse you so much, Lord Sinclair, but would you mind answering my question? I’ve had a rotten night.” She was trying to be as condescending as possible, but Ben seemed to be oblivious to her sarcasm.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing at a time like this. But I must assure you that my house is decorated a little bit more tastefully.”

“Yes, well this place looks like a harem. All this red!” As Kate said these words, she realized her mistake. She could see that Ben was all but biting his tongue trying not to laugh. She quickly began to explain. “Not that I know what a harem looks like, or anything. It’s just that I’ve heard…” she trailed off as Ben raised his hand.

“Please, don’t try to explain. I’m certain you have reliable sources. And I’ll tell you where we are, but I think we should figure out exactly what happened first, while it’s still fresh in your mind.”

Kate nodded in assent. “How did you see my carriage?”

“Well, it wasn’t so hard to see, really. Or rather to hear—you were making quite a racket in there. I had just entered the building when you went by. Mrs. Wilson…um, she owns this house…opened the door to see what was going on outside, and I recognized Robert’s carriage. So I ran out to try to stop it.”

“How did you stop it?”

Ben actually looked sheepish. “I wish I could tell you I did something heroic like throw myself in front of the horses, but I didn’t actually have to do anything at all. The second the driver saw me coming, he pulled the carriage to a stop and jumped off—fear of recognition, I guess. Anyway, he ran off into the night before I could even catch a glimpse of him.”

“And then you opened the door and I clobbered you?”

“Yes…and where does a young lady like you learn to clobber so effectively?”

Kate smiled cryptically. “Around.”

“Around. Hmm. So d’you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, can you tell me what happened when you left the party? Did you leave by yourself?”

“Yes…there’s not much to it. I just left. There were a lot of carriages in the drive—it was dark. The only thing amiss was that when I reached the carriage Owens was very slow to help me in…I called to him not to bother and got in on my own. I never actually saw Owens.”

“He wasn’t there.”

“No. He wasn’t there. Oh, I do hope nothing awful has happened to him.”

“My driver has gone back to the Bannisters’ to look for him. There’s a very good chance he’s there still.” They fell silent for a moment before Ben asked, “I assume you told your brother that you were leaving?”

“Well, no, not exactly. I told Charlotte to tell him…she said her coachman would take him home when the party ended so I could leave early. I hadn’t seen Robert in a while—couldn’t locate him, really.” That was a lie. Kate had been patently avoiding her brother, too afraid that he would have heard of her embarrassment and would want to grill her on the particulars.

“Hmm.” Ben mulled over her words for a moment, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his long legs.

Despite her nervousness, Kate couldn’t help but notice how sinfully handsome he was, how perfectly formed. He wasn’t paying attention for the moment and she let her gaze travel up his body, admiring the perfect fit of his evening attire and imagining what was beneath it….

She’d made it up to his chest when she felt the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. She quickly met Ben’s eyes and blushed when she realized that he was the watcher.

He smiled but continued, not yet ready to drop the subject. “Did the driver say nothing to you out of the ordinary?”

“He said nothing at all, but the incident was so strange itself…would you tell me, please, what you were doing while I waited here?”

Ben smiled. “Of course. I went for a walk in the surrounding area to see if I saw anyone who looked suspicious…can’t say I got a very good look at our man before he dashed off, though.”