Читать книгу The Regency Bestsellers Collection - Bronwyn Scott - Страница 22

Chase kissed her forcefully, to prove what he was. There was no tenderness in it, only punishment. A good lashing with his tongue rather than a switch.

If everyone else was playing pirate, he was going to play pirate, too.

Pirates took. They seized. They plundered.

He kissed his way down her neck—her delicate, lovely neck—while he skimmed his hand the full length of her torso, tracing the contours of her body through the thin muslin of her frock. The embrace he meant to be punishing became much too tender.

“Alexandra,” he whispered.

Her friends called her Alex, but he wasn’t her friend. He was her employer, her superior in society, and a practiced rake. One who could ravish her right here, right now on the creaking schoolroom floor, amid the scattered books and slates and chalk.

Instead, all he wanted was to kiss her for hours. Days.

Every woman was unique, but she was just so different. Strange and brave and clever. She made him different, too. For once, he wanted to slow down, take time to explore and notice everything about her, rather than hide from himself.

Her tongue shyly caressed his. Each light, teasing pass was a gift. Her first tastes of passion, and she shared them with him. Freely. Sweetly.

In her arms, he could almost dream he deserved it.

No one’s a lost cause.

He’d never wanted to believe anything more. But she didn’t know—couldn’t begin to understand—how far he’d strayed from the path of respectability.

Chase was so lost, he’d fallen straight off the map.

He broke the kiss and rose up on one elbow, needing to see her. She stared up at him with dark, glassy eyes. Her lips were plump and reddened from his kisses.

“By God, you’re lovely.”

Her skin warmed with a bashful glow. If she’d been lovely a moment ago, she was radiant now.

And he was in very deep trouble.

The moment was precipitously ruined by the sounds of two girls crashing up the stairs. He and Alexandra were barely able to scramble to their feet and straighten their clothing before Rosamund and Daisy barreled into the room. Each girl had a slice of cake in one hand and a jam-stuffed roll in the other.

“Boo.” Daisy used her sleeve to wipe jam from her mouth. “You escaped.”

“We’ll practice our knots and do better next time,” Rosamund told her sister.

“There will be no next time,” Chase said sternly. “No more piracy.” He waved expansively at the piratical decor. “In fact, tomorrow I am going to take all—”

“He’s going to take all of us on an outing,” Alexandra interjected.

“An outing?” Rosamund sounded incredulous.

Chase was incredulous, too.

“I thought we weren’t allowed outings,” Rosamund said.

“You are absolutely correct,” Chase replied. “And that is why I’m—”

“He’s making an exception tomorrow,” she interrupted.

Oh, now really. This was an act of shameless betrayal.

Daisy cheered as she bounced on the bed. “Where are we going?”

Chase stood tall. “I am not t—”

“Mr. Reynaud’s not telling.” His treasonous governess spoke over him once more. “He said it’s meant to be a surprise. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Chase glared at her.

She smiled back.

He left the room on an exasperated curse.

Very well. If they wanted an outing, he would give them one. And it would be highly educational.

“The Tower of London,” Alexandra mused aloud. “A bold choice. So much rich history. We can view the crown jewels.”

“Jewels are not on the schedule. I have a specific history lesson in mind.”

They proceeded directly to Beauchamp Tower, where Chase—she couldn’t think of him as Mr. Reynaud any longer—marched them up a spiraling stone staircase.

They emerged onto a floor shaped rather like a flower. A round space in the middle, with small alcoves sprouting from the center, like petals.

Daisy popped in and out of each alcove, skipping in circles. “What is this place?”

“It’s a prison,” Rosamund answered. “This middle here was for the gaolers, and those little bits you’re dancing around were cells.”

“How do you know?” Daisy replied.

“Because this is the Tower of London, ninny. If you don’t believe me, ask the prisoners who left their marks.” Rosamund pointed at letters carved into the wall. “See, here.” She traced another mark, a bit higher. “And here.”

“Everywhere,” Daisy said, turning in place.

Hand-etched graffiti crammed every bit of stone that a man could conceivably reach. Sometimes, merely initials or a date. In other places, elaborate crosses had been chiseled in bas-relief. Bible verses stretched for yards across the walls.

“Why would they do that?” Daisy asked. “It’s terribly naughty.”

“They were criminals,” Rosamund said. “They didn’t care about right behavior.”

“People want to leave a mark on the world,” Alex said. “It’s human nature. Some are remembered by their accomplishments, or their virtues. Others live on through their children.” She trailed her fingers over Daisy’s back as she strolled by. “And if he has none of those to leave behind, a man carves his name into the wall. We all want to be remembered.”

“Oh, they were remembered—as criminals.” Chase stood in the center of the room. “Do you know who ended up in a prison like this one, girls? Murderers. Traitors.”

“And pirates,” Rosamund finished dryly, having caught on to her guardian’s lesson.

“Yes. And pirates. A few hundred years ago, you’d have been brought in through the river entrance, dragged up to one of these cells, and left to rot for a year or five. Only straw for your bed. Crusts and weak soup, no meat. You’d have been crammed in with other unwashed prisoners. Covered in filth, lice, rats, disease.”

“Disease!” Daisy cheered. “Which ones?”

“Very, very boring ones,” he said. “And don’t cheer. It was misery. Now if all that wasn’t bad enough, once you were convicted in court?” He drew a finger across his neck in a throat-slicing gesture.

“Beheading,” Daisy said, awed.

“Right out there in the yard. That’s if you were of noble birth. The rest were hung by their necks, and their heads went on pikes by the river as a warning. All the blood dripping down. Eyes pecked out by ravens.”

Hands behind her back, Alex ambled over to stand by her employer. “Surely there are less gruesome ways of teaching history, Mr. Reynaud.”

“Surely there are less irritating methods of teaching geography than piracy.”

She had no answer to that.

“Be grateful I didn’t choose an outing to the Fleet.” He crossed his arms over his chest and addressed the girls. “Now. I expect that this little visit will have cured you both of your criminal behavior. There will be no further stealing, piracy, or . . . dollicide. Not unless you want a scene like this one in your future.”

“In our future?” Rosamund looked around the ancient cell, considering. “Locked in an upstairs room, given only crusts to eat, and plagued by disease. Seems rather like the life we have now. We may as well have a few high-seas adventures while we can.” She beckoned to Daisy. “Let’s go see the menagerie.”

Chase tipped his head back and gave an exaggerated groan of despair.

“Wait.” Alex rummaged in her reticule. “You’ll need a shilling each for entrance.”

Rosamund rattled two coins in her hand. “Our guardian gave us the coins already.” She cast a cheeky smile at his pocket. “In a manner of speaking.”

Daisy skipped to follow her sister, singsong chanting all the way down the stairs.

Alex moved to follow them. She only made it two and a half paces before his deep voice arrested her progress.

“Not yet, Miss Mountbatten.”

“I should follow the girls. It isn’t safe to leave them without supervision.”

“They’re fine,” he said. “Rosamund won’t let Daisy out of her sight.”

“Oh, I know the girls will be safe.” She gave him a deceptively carefree smile. “It’s the lions and tigers I’m worried about.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He pulled her into one of the room’s stone alcoves. “I need a word.”

He needed a word. Which word, she longed to know. Could it possibly be “lovely”? Because that was the only word she’d been able to think since the previous night.

By God, you’re lovely, he’d said.

He called you lovely! her brain had sung. And it hadn’t stopped singing ever since. Lovely. Looov-eh-leeee. Lovely lovely lovely lovely. L-O-V-E-L-Why? Because he finds you lovely. Also, lovely.

“I could have told you this outing wouldn’t work the way you hoped.”

“Since I hired you, Miss Mountbatten, nothing has gone the way I hoped.”

“Try to see the positives. Rosamund and Daisy are bold, clever, resourceful girls. Even if the mischief could be beaten out of them—and I suspect there’s a solid chance the rod would splinter first—their spirits would be broken, too. What a tragedy that would be.”

“Oh, yes. A tragedy indeed.”

His ironic tone didn’t fool her. Alex was coming to see the fondness he harbored for his wards. If he didn’t care about them, he wouldn’t bother to try.

“They’re children. They have a natural curiosity about the world, and a desire to learn. They merely need the encouragement and opportunity. The freedom to pursue their own interests. Aren’t you concerned with the improvement of their minds?”

“I’m chiefly concerned with the improvement of their behavior. They must learn to move in society. My duty as guardian is to provide Rosamund and Daisy with a secure, comfortable future. A young woman’s best hope at such is to marry, and marry well.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “The same way your parents married well?”

“Oh, I’ll make certain they do better than my father. They could scarcely do worse. But in general, yes. That is how the English aristocracy works.”

“Perhaps the English aristocracy needs to do better.”

He made a derisive sound. “I’m flattered you think I’ve the power to change the world.”

“I don’t think you have the power to change the world,” she replied. “I think Rosamund and Daisy do. If given the chance.”

“Is that so.” He drew closer. “And how are you planning to change the world, Miss Mountbatten?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Mr. Reynaud. At the moment, I’m too busy changing the sky.”

After staring into her eyes for an eon or two, he sighed dramatically. “You are the worst example of false advertising. I was led to believe I was hiring a prim scold. Then I learn you’re remarkable and bold and interesting.”

Well, Alex thought, that stupid song in her brain had four words now.

She stammered, “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

“I wish you didn’t make me think things like that. So we’re square.”

“We should go after the girls.”

“Yes, we should.”

Neither of them moved.

Alex bit her lip. “We’re going to kiss instead, aren’t we.”

He caught her in his arms. “You’re goddamned right, we are.”