Once Upon a Rake Read online

  “Or I could help you clean up. I am in need of a bath myself, as I think I mentioned. You were kind enough to suffer me while in such a state.”

  “Oh, Lucian, how could anyone suffer you?”

  “You have suffered much of my behaviour, Ellie.”

  “Well, I gladly suffered that.” She tilted her head towards the door where he had just had her pinned.

  A fresh smile cracked his face and he followed her to the bathroom. “Shall I help you scrub your back, or shall you scrub mine?”

  “We shall bath together?” The idea delighted and intrigued her. Images of Lucian’s skin slick with soap swamped her mind.

  Lucian hooked an arm around her waist and drew her to him. “We shall. And I shall leave no inch of you unscrubbed.”

  “Oh goodness.”

  If she had been the swooning type, she might very well have dropped to the ground. Then he kissed her and her knees made a definite threat to give way. Other things were threatening to give way too, she feared. Like her resolve to keep her distance. To use him simply for the pleasure he could bring. Her resolve never to fall foul of Lucian again looked as though it might be sorely tested.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  No Rest for the Wicked

  Lucian fought to keep his eyes open as Ellie skimmed her fingers up and down his chest. He admired the sight of creamy skin that he had buffed dry with a towel after bathing and a minor delay. The tub had not been big enough to make love in but he had laid her out on the towel and paid attention to every part of her, as promised. If he’d not been so exhausted, he might have given into responding to the arousal burning through his veins.

  Truth be told, he didn’t wish to fall asleep. He wanted to value every moment with her. It would come to an end soon enough. She would have her fill of him or see him for what he really was. She would realise he was not good enough for her. How could he compete with the sights of the world and her vast wealth? He might have a title but it was hardly backed by money anymore and a mere viscount could not compete with any titles of her own ilk or higher.

  He suspected he had been lucky enough to get in there before any other man had, but soon the masses of eligible bachelors would sweep her up. The ball had proved exactly how popular she was with gentlemen.

  Jealousy tightened his gut but her hand trailing over his stomach in an exploratory manner and the brush of her hair against his cheek made him forget it. Whatever happened in the future, what mattered was here, now. For the time being, he had this undiscovered gem lying next to him, naked and willing. Damnation, if only he was not so tired. He fought to mask a yawn.

  “Poor Lucian, have I worn you out?”

  He scowled. “Do not talk to me as though I am an old man.”

  “But you are. You are no young, suave rake anymore. You are a grumpy and grizzled old man.”

  He lifted a brow and peered at her face as she tilted her head towards him. A teasing smile sat on her lips and he shook his head. “Alas, you have the measure of me. I am old before my time. But you will forgive my tiredness. I didn’t sleep well last night. A certain little minx kept me awake all night.”

  “Oh indeed.” She barely smothered a gasp as he plucked at her nipple, enjoying the way the rosy bud tightened. “And who is the lady who can keep a rake so entertained?”

  “She is a countess. A fine lady. Too good for me. But beneath her elegant exterior, she is nought but a wicked, naughty lady.”

  “She sounds interesting.”

  “She is indeed.” He yawned.

  “But not interesting enough to keep you awake, it seems.”

  Lucian chuckled. “Forgive me, my love. It was a busy day at the mill. I didn’t see my bed at all last night.”

  “You work so hard, Lucian. I worry for you. You shall age even quicker than you already have if you’re not careful.”

  The desire to tell her everything that had occurred burnt in his chest. To unburden himself on Ellie seemed so natural, as if she pulled all the truths from his tongue and bore them all on those slender shoulders of hers.

  “What is it?”

  “Bloody hell, how do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “You...read my mind or some such witchcraft. It is disconcerting.”

  “So there is something wrong?”

  She pressed her breasts into his side and he knew he had no choice. He would crawl over hot coals for this woman and he would certainly tell her every secret of his if she so asked.

  He blew out a breath and stared at her shoulder as he smoothed his fingers across her skin. “There was a fire this morning.”

  “A fire? My goodness, thank the Lord you were not hurt.”

  “It wasn’t big though it could have grown had I not caught it in time. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch the person setting the fire.”

  “It was deliberate?”

  “Yes. As were the other accidents. As was the belt snapping and striking you. Good Lord, it could have killed you.”

  “But it did not,” she reminded him gently and he relaxed his grip on her shoulders. Odd how the thought of her coming to any harm created a very real ache in his chest. “So someone is trying to burn down the mill?”

  “I think not. A fire would be the person’s first choice, surely? The fire was never intended to reach huge proportions. Likely it would have burned out but created enough damage to force me to close the mill for a long time.”

  “They hope to close the mill?”

  “They hope to put me out of business.”

  “Things are that bad then?”

  He nodded. “Yes, you were right as usual, Ellie. The cost of cotton and the other mill fire has put a very real strain on the business.”

  “You do not think the other fire was deliberate, do you?” She propped herself up on one elbow and drew up the sheet but he tugged it away, eliciting a squeak.

  “Do not cover yourself for my sake.”

  “It was more for mine. It does not seem very sensible to be discussing such matters while my...” He saw colour enter her cheeks.

  “Your breasts?”

  “Yes.” Ellie dropped her gaze. “My breasts are on display.”

  “I’ve never been accused of being a sensible man.”

  “I think you have your moments, my lord. But what of this fire? What shall you do? You will not let them succeed, will you?”

  “No. Whoever this person is, I will not. Perhaps it is just mischief making but I think not. Too many livelihoods depend on that mill and my father worked hard to make it a success. I will not let his legacy be whittled away to nothing.”

  “I’m sure your father would be proud of you, no matter what you did. You are a good man.”

  “Am I? You did not think so not long ago. I am a rake. Or at least I was. With not an ounce of honour in me.”

  “You are still dishonourable, I will agree with that.” She pushed up to kiss the tip of his nose. It was a movement that he likened to that of a mother to a child and not suited to a grown man at all, yet his heart stretched. “But you are a good man and you shall save this mill.”

  “I’m not sure I know how.”

  “First, sleep. Then let me see this month’s records tomorrow. There is something I should like to look at.”

  “You are being mysterious.”

  “I don’t know if I am seeing things that are not, but there are some discrepancies.”

  “There often are, you know?”

  “But, Lucian, you know someone wishes the mill closed. Why should they wish such a thing?”

  “A disgruntled employee perhaps or one of my competition.”

  “They are not all the most honourable men, but surely that is below them?”

  He thought of Abberley and conceded she was right. He did not like the man, but he had sound business sense and wouldn’t do something so foolish, surely? But who else could it be? Who would benefit from the closing of the mill?

  “Get some rest, Lucian, and let m
e look at the books tomorrow. Perhaps I shall have some answers for you.”

  He didn’t argue. How could he when she coaxed his weary body down and repositioned the pillow under his head? When she drew up the blankets and pushed her lithe body against his? Or when she ran soothing fingers through his hair?

  Lucian did not wish to fall asleep. He longed to stay awake and enjoy every moment of her attentions. When had anyone treated him in such a way since his mother? And she had long since given up trying to take care of him.

  So sleep claimed him and the worries of the mill seemed to drift away with each touch of her fingers. He felt a smile on his face as he drifted into the darkness and heard her sweet voice.

  “Rest well, my love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Never Keep a Rake Waiting

  The words and numbers had all begun to blur together by midday. Eleanor rested her elbows on Lucian’s desk and rubbed her eyes. She pressed fingers to her temples to release some of the pressure on her head. A fine headache was coming on. She had lain awake for too long last night, watching Lucian sleep, but watching him in repose, all relaxed and almost childlike was too fascinating. It brought her great joy to see him so tranquil and free from worry.

  Not that it had lasted. He had awoken early and left her, and she saw the tension back in his posture as he slipped out of the door. Hopefully some more lovemaking now he had rested would help him, but first they needed to find out who this unknown saboteur was.

  She peered at the numbers and wished she had brought the entire collection of records with her, though she would have to have them sent over by carriage. When she saw Lucian, she would have him send a message to his staff to have the books sent over.

  There were discrepancies in the costing of cotton she noticed, but that was not unusual, not with the rapid changing nature of the industry, but it read as though they were being charged more than the quoted cost. She did not know for sure but the records from the previous years had shown no such discrepancies. Eleanor would have to ask if there was a reason for the different numbers.

  “Will you come and eat?”

  Lifting her head, she could not help but smile at the handsome sight he presented. He had discarded his jacket and it hung from one arm. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and not even the scars on one arm could prevent her from admiring the way his muscles pulled as he leant against the doorframe. His waistcoat was a simple, pure black one, and the gold chain of his pocket watch stood out against it. She sighed. To think he was her lover. It was so very wicked and so very exciting.

  “Well?”

  Eleanor nodded hastily and stood. “Yes, I did not even realise I’m hungry.” She placed a hand to her stomach. “But apparently I am.”

  She put on her bonnet and snatched her shawl. Lucian stepped forwards to help place it around her shoulders. He grabbed both ends and used it to draw her to him. She peered around his shoulder at the open door.

  “Someone shall see,” she hissed.

  “And you think that bothers me?”

  “Considering you sneak out of my room in the early hours, yes.”

  “That is merely to cater to your sensibilities, Ellie. My reputation cannot get any worse than it already is.” He glanced over his shoulder, his hold still firm on the shawl and pushed the door shut with his foot. “But I would not wish to shame you.”

  Then he lowered his lips to hers. Excitement darted through her, twisting into her stomach and making her body tingle from head to toe. How, after sharing so much with him, a mere kiss created such sensations, she did not know.

  She savoured every second, however. Feeling desired and wanted brought her more happiness than she thought possible. Even notions of the future and them having to part did not bother her when he kissed her.

  He flicked his tongue over hers, then drew back to brush his lips briefly across her mouth. Smiling with a look of satisfaction, Lucian settled the shawl properly over her shoulders and readjusted her bonnet.

  “Perfect.”

  Hardly, but she wouldn’t argue.

  Lucian put on his jacket and she slid her arm through his. The clank of the machines rang out from the building in the most oddly soothing manner. The sounds of activity and industry thrilled her almost more than the quiet peace that surrounded Broadstone Hall.

  As they strode along the street towards the busy town centre, Eleanor found herself not concentrating on walking carefully or how she was carrying herself as usual, but instead on her surroundings and most of all on the tall, handsome man at her side. Such a sense of peace and satisfaction washed over her that she had to bite back a contented sigh and force herself out of her dream world where happy endings existed and devastatingly attractive rakes gave girls like her their hearts.

  It will not last, Eleanor, she told herself. Just remember that.

  ***

  Lucian tapped his feet as he waited for Ellie to open the hotel room. He’d spent far too long staring at this damned door already. What in the devil was she doing? He had not seen her all day. Normally she could be counted on to pull the door open so fast he feared it would fall from its hinges, but she really was taking her time.

  “Ellie?” he tapped again.

  Was she annoyed at him for not coming to see her again as she poured over the books? He had meant to but there had been some trouble with one of the machines and then a meeting with his banker had fairly drained him. He did, however, look forward to dinner with her. It meant leaving her bed but Ellie deserved to be treated better. All he had done since she had come to town was keep her in bed or in his office. And what woman did not like dressing up and going out to dinner?

  Blast, if she was angry with him, he would rather know about it. He pressed his ear to the door and heard low voices. She was in there with her maid. Was she concerned about her maid seeing him? Ellie had already admitted the maid knew all and fully supported her mistress enjoying some time with him. Perhaps the maid felt Edward had been as stuffy and neglectful as Lucian thought him to be, and Ellie deserved some fun for a while.

  He snorted. Some fun he turned out to be. He had her buried under books at the mill, hardly the sort of treatment a countess expected. Still, tonight he would show her an enjoyable evening and remind her exactly why she had decided to come to town. If she was not screaming to the rafters by the end of the evening, he would consider the night a failure.

  Right, he wasn’t going to stand here any longer. If anyone came along, he would appear a damn fool. He twisted the doorknob and eased open the door to step inside.

  Ellie squeaked his name and he spotted her sitting in front of the dressing table, having her hair tweaked by the maid.

  Maggie, he recalled, dipped. “My lord.”

  “Lucian, could you not have given me a couple of moments? As you can see I am not dressed.”

  He peered over her shoulder and saw she still sat in her corset and drawers. A grin split his face. “I can see very well.”

  “Well?”

  He met her gaze in the mirror. “Pardon?”

  “Wait outside. I shall only be a moment.”

  “Not likely. What shall it look like if I am found loitering around outside your room? I shall be lucky if the hotel staff do not carry me away and I am certain any gossip about us will be confirmed.”

  “People are gossiping?”

  “We have been careful, my love, but there is always gossip.”

  The maid flushed. “Your hair is done, my lady. Shall I help you choose your gown or...” She indicated to the door, clearly not wishing to be privy to their private conversations.

  “Yes, leave us, Maggie. Thank you. Lord Rushbourne can always help.”

  “As you will, my lady. Will you need me tonight?”

  Ellie shook her head. “I think not.”

  Lucian waited until the maid had left before sinking down onto the bed. “Come on, Ellie, it’s not like you to be late. We shall miss our reservation.”

  “I am t
rying to hurry,” she said, her voice tinged with annoyance, “but it is not easy when you have...have blasted straw for hair.” She motioned to her perfectly coiffed hairstyle.

  “Looks fine to me.” He picked a bit of lint off his sleeve.

  She humphed and proceeded to pat some cream or somesuch on her cheeks. He had never realised ladies went to quite so much trouble. He eyed the clock and tried not to grind his teeth in frustration. Viscount or not, a reservation at Petit Paris was not easy to come by.

  Ellie stood and eyed the several gowns laid out on the chaise. He tapped his feet and waited for the final decision. It was a dress—how hard could the decision be?

  “Ellie...”

  “Yes, I know, Lucian, we are late, but I cannot go out in just anything.” She lifted her hands in annoyance.

  He stood and strode over to the gowns to pick one up and thrust it at her. “Wear this.”

  She shook her head. “No, the fit is not quite right and I shall look pale under the street lights.”

  Lucian dropped the gown and pressed his fingers to his temples before picking up the dark blue gown. “This then. You look fine in blue.”

  “Pale blue, but that is being cleaned.”

  “Ellie, devil take it, it is just a gown. No one shall care.”

  “I shall care. And everyone will care. I am a countess, I have to look as well as I can. It’s all very well for you. You do not even have to work at being handsome, but I—” Her voice cracked and she turned away from him.

  “Handsome? With my scarred face, hardly?”

  Rounding on him, hands on her hips, she narrowed her gaze at him. “A little scarring is nothing, Lucian.”

  “It is not nothing to me.” His skin prickled as heat flushed through him, driven by annoyance. What was wrong with the woman? And did she really think being burned was nothing to him? Did she know him so little that she had no idea of the pain and anguish it had caused him?