The Rake's Rainbow by Allison Lane

Author:Allison Lane [Lane, Allison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1996-10-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Thomas’s mental state continued to deteriorate, plaguing him with unbearable discontent and frustration. Each day drew him further into an escalating emotional war. Bedlam seemed inviting.

His greatest battles still revolved around his passion for Alicia. Maintaining his distance grew harder each time he saw her. As did disguising his interest. He suspected that he might be happier if he did not love her. Certainly, life would be easier. But love was not an emotion that could be summoned or banished at will.

Her continued attentions undermined his effort to remain aloof, though he refused to cast blame on her enticing shoulders. Barely nineteen, she lacked the experience that would have enabled her to hide her love. And she was too young to understand that even the strongest emotional attachment could not excuse dishonor. Daily he cursed himself for losing control at Graystone, degrading her and hinting that wanton behavior was acceptable where there was love. But never would he admit that part of his unease stemmed from the unpalatable fact that her attentions were cloying. He preferred the role of aggressor in his dealings with the fair sex. With Alicia, he felt like prey.

Indicative of his dilemma was the night he attended a card party at Lady Beatrice’s. Caroline had accompanied Eleanor to a ball which Alicia was also to attend, and he looked forward to a relaxing evening by himself. After several hours of whist, he wandered into the garden, seeking cool air to counter the dowager’s overheated rooms.

Without warning, a soft hand caressed his arm, and that beloved husky voice filled the darkness.

“Thomas, my love, I have missed you so. It has been two days since I last saw you. Surely you cannot have been avoiding me.”

He froze. She was even lovelier than usual tonight, her blue gown pressed tightly against her by a cooling breeze, leaving the impression that she wore nothing beneath, though he discounted the thought. Only courtesans were so lost to propriety. He had long since convinced himself that overwhelming passion had erased all memory of removing the usual undergarments at Graystone.

“Of course not, Lady Darnley,” he managed, removing her hand from his sleeve and stepping back a pace. Fortunately they were in full view of the door which tipped his emotional balance in favor of honor.

“The air is wondrously fresh. Can you believe how stuffy Lady Beatrice keeps her house? Though I suppose those ancient bones of hers can no longer tolerate chills.” She glided down the steps into the garden and paused expectantly so he could join her.

“It is cool enough here,” he declared, refusing to move away from the door.

“I expect you are as relieved as I to get away from home for an evening,” she purred, sending him a melting glance through her lashes. “You cannot enjoy being tied to an insipid wife any more than I like catering to Darnley. He is too decrepit to be considered a man. Walk with me a while.”

“No, my lady,” he refused again, though his voice revealed his desire.

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