He could be a rake if he goes to an inappropriate establishment and enjoys himself.
MISS HONORA TRUTH’S WORDS OF WISDOM AND WARNING ABOUT RAKES, SCOUNDRELS, ROGUES, AND LIBERTINES
On impulse, Rath opened the door to Miss Lola’s Lacy Linens and Finer Things, surprised that with all his experiences he hadn’t entered the den of frippery before. He strode inside with his usual confident step, taking off his hat as he entered. He was immediately assailed with intimate recollections from his ne’er-do-well past. The fragrances of prior conquests and mistresses assailed him at once, and momentarily he thought he’d entered into a hornet’s nest of spurned lovers gathered to welcome him back into their arms.
His initial response was short-lived as he began to mentally sort the perfumes scenting the air and realized they were all illusion and not actual women.
The heady scents of warm honey, earthy minerals, summer vines, and sweet trumpet flowers seemed to explode throughout the room. There were too many different fragrances contained within these walls to distinguish them all, but he did briefly reflect on his past, with an almost visible wince of regret.
Moving forward, he didn’t really know what he’d expected when he entered, but it hadn’t been the explicit displays of provocative stays, silk stockings, sheer shifts, and enough lace to fill the cargo hull of a merchant’s ship. Clearly everything inside was made for the precise purpose of setting a man’s heart to beating faster and feeding his primal appetite for the fairer sex.
The shop, while not small, was overpowered by all the frills. Ornate handheld mirrors and silver hairbrushes, jeweled combs, and fancy gossamer gloves all graced chairs, tables, desks, and paintings that hung on the walls. Scattered among them were lace and beads woven in between the delicate items. Low-burning lamps added a soft golden glow to the room.
Obviously everything was meant to enhance and entice a lady’s desire to please a man.
Rath had never seen so many feminine trappings under one roof and grew more intrigued by the second.
Thank you, Miss Fast, for the unknowing nudge.
He allowed his thoughts to stray … envisioning her ivory skin wrapped in nothing but a lace garland and shimmering pearls. Her glossy hair cascading across her shoulders and touching her waist where its slender nip beckoned his kiss.
“May I help you, sir?” A woman’s voice stopped his fantasy cold, although the evidence of such in his breeches didn’t immediately catch up.
Damnation.
He quickly shifted the hold on his hat to a more advantageous placing. Turning, he saw an older, attractive woman walking toward him. She could have been wearing her shop. Her dress was the color of lilacs and had what seemed to be mountains of lace around the neckline and at the cuffs of her sleeves.
“Miss Lola, I presume.” His greeting held warmth and regard. An enterprising woman was one he held in esteem.
“You presume correctly, sir.”
“Rath. Duke of Rathburne.”
“My correction, Your Grace,” she said with a curtsy. Her smile was easy. Genuine. “We don’t get many gentlemen in the shop. Titled or not.”
He liked her instantly and gave a half snort, half laugh. Rather than prolong the moment, he questioned, “Do you carry smelling salts or must I find them in the apothecary?”
“If you’ll forgive me, Your Grace, you don’t look the fainthearted type. But I won’t ask questions, and yes, I do indeed sell spirits to revive an attack of vapors.”
Rath liked the woman’s attitude, too. That she was industrious and wasn’t going to let even a surprising customer walk out the door without putting in a good effort to make a sale was commendable. He didn’t know much about smelling salts and sachets. Most of the women he knew weren’t likely to faint at hearing his name or anything else.
He followed her to the back of the shop and caught a whiff of wildflowers as he passed an open drawer. He thought of Miss Fast again. He imagined her running through a field of tall yellow and blue blossoms, letting her fingers float along the tops of the blooms while her golden-red hair bounced on the back of her shoulders. A much more appropriate thought than his first but just as intoxicating and real.
The shopkeeper stopped in front of a long, cluttered chest where small bottles were placed among dainty satin balls, squares, and triangles all stuffed like little pillows with ribbons sewn on them so they could be hung around the wrist. That would be convenient for Miss Fast’s frail friend. And no surprise to him, they were all neatly nestled among a cutting of sheer cloth, lace, and beads.
“Anything on this table would be appropriate for what you have in mind,” she said, waving her hand from one end to the other. “They are guaranteed to rouse the deepest of fainters or to calm the slightest feeling of the vapors without causing a headache.”
Miss Lola picked up a light-blue bottle with a fancy pewter top and opened it. She offered it for him to sniff, but Rath held up his hand and backed away. Even at a distance there was no doubt the vial had a strong scent of ammonia.
“Enough.” He leaned away. “That would rouse a bear from hibernation in the middle of winter.” He didn’t know of a flower, fruit, or wood that could hide that scent or make it more pleasant to the nose.
“It does do what’s needed in precarious situations,” she assured him.
“Give me three of the bottles and three of the wrist pillows, too. I have a feeling this young lady seems to find herself in precarious situations more often than not.”
“Very good, Your Grace. Can I tempt you to purchase one bottle of fragrance? Straight from the perfumeries in France. You know a lady can never have too much perfume.”
Marlena came easily to Rath’s mind yet again. He remembered her walking up to him, the wide-brimmed hat framing her lovely face, the perfectly tied bow under her chin, and the warm smile she gave him. Later, when she’d walked past him, he’d caught the scent of fresh-cut herbs, the earth, fresh air—a wholesome life. She wouldn’t be one to wear perfume of any fragrance. Though for a moment, the thought of her using a liberal dose of rose water before going into the garden made him smile. There wouldn’t be imaginary bees, wasps, and ladybugs dancing around her cheeks if she did that. They’d be real insects wanting to light on her.
“No perfume,” he said.
“I understand. It’s not for everyone. I’ll take care of these for you at the counter.” She picked up two of the bottles and two sachets. “I’ll come back for the others.”
“No need. I’ll help you with them,” he said and tucked his hat under his arm. He picked up the other bottle and three more of the satin pillows. If a lady couldn’t have too much perfume, she couldn’t have too many sachets, either.
After his purchases had been secured in a fancily trimmed package of lace and ribbons that no man would want to walk through Town carrying, he shrugged. The deed had been done. Time to make a hasty exit. But suddenly a bell chimed as the door opened and feminine chatter overtook the shop.
Familiar voices.
His stomach tightened. His steps slowed. Stopped.
The Duchess of Griffin and the Duchess of Hawksthorn walked inside, not looking in his direction at all, but immediately heading for a display of underclothing.
The wives of his two best friends and ladies he adored.
“Oh, look at these?” Loretta said. “These weren’t here last time we were in.” She picked up a gossamer-fine chemise, held it next to her body, and said, “What do you think of this?”
“That there’s hardly anything to it,” Esmeralda answered. “You can see right through it, but Hawk will love it.” She then studied a very lacy corset and pondered, “I wonder if this will fit me?”
“Try it and see,” Loretta suggested.
And then the ladies turned toward the counter and saw him. Loretta jerked the chemise behind her, and Esmeralda threw down the corset as if it had been a hot poker. They both stared at him in disbelief. With good reason, admittedly. He probably should have paid a little more attention to his gut instinct and kept walking when he saw the shop, but he’d let what Miss Fast needed rule his decision.
Esmeralda’s golden-brown eyes widened, and Loretta’s dark-blue orbs were firmly fixed on Rath’s neckcloth rather than his face. Both of the ladies’ delicate cheeks had turned a shade of pink. They were clearly horrified to see him, to know he’d seen and heard them. Their combined gasps had Rath wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb in the hope of hiding his amusement. Perhaps they thought he’d never seen a pair of silk stockings, a lacy corset, or a see-through shift? By the saints, he’d probably loosened more stays and rolled down more stockings than the two of them had put together.
Be that as it may, the way Rath saw it, he had two choices. He could be himself or be as uncomfortable as the ladies were at catching him among the unmentionables and continue his hasty exit.
The choice was easy.
Rath had never been one to shy away from a situation just because it was awkward, and he’d never been one to stand on ceremony with friends. Besides, he wouldn’t be the rake Society considered him to be if he let this situation pass so easily.
He didn’t try to hide beneath his coat or lay aside his purchase onto the shop counter. In fact, looping a ribbon through his forefinger, he tauntingly swung the box as if it were a clock’s pendulum keeping perfect time.
He smiled and said, “Esmeralda.” He bowed and then reached for her gloved hand. She slowly gave it. He kissed the back of her palm and said, “You’re looking lovely this afternoon. How is Griffin?”
Without waiting for an answer, he immediately turned to Loretta and did the same thing, after she managed to wiggle the chemise enough that Esmeralda got the hint and took it from the hand she was holding behind her back, so she could extend it to Rath for his waiting kiss. “And how are you two fetching creatures today?”
Esmeralda finally took the first bite of conversation and said, “I must say it’s a bit of a surprise—”
“Shock,” Loretta finished.
“Indeed. To find you in here.”
“Oh?” he responded, in no way deterred by the awkward shift in their stances.
He looked from one lady to the other. Their gazes kept sweeping down to stare at the purchase he’d made—both curious but neither daring to ask him what he’d bought.
Esmeralda turned to Loretta. “You know, I don’t believe I see what I was looking for today. I’d like to try another shop.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Loretta said just as quickly with relief washing down her lovely face. “If you’ll excuse us, Rath, we’ll take our leave.”
He should bid them farewell without question or comment. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but the rake inside him wouldn’t acquiesce to the polite rules of Society. He’d never been any good at following them anyway, so why change now.
Even if Esmeralda and Loretta hadn’t known about his reputation, his penchant for ignoring rules, before today, his presence in this shop proved his aversion to what others deemed proper. He knew letting them leave without further words or more embarrassment was the right thing to do, especially since they were the wives of his best friends and he’d dined in their homes on many occasions—but that’s also what made detaining them a little longer all the merrier.
Besides, a little playful diversion might help settle their rattled nerves at seeing him in such an inappropriate place.
“What did you two come in for today?” he asked.
“Silk,” Esmeralda said at the same time Loretta said, “Lace.”
It took great restraint not to smile. If there was one thing this shop had plenty of, it was lace and silk. He knew they’d tell their husbands they’d seen him in here, and he’d catch hell from them for it. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d peppered him with hot coals. Yet opportunities like this didn’t often land in his hands.
“I came in to pick up something for my ward that she needed.” Rath lifted the package to their eye level, innocently bobbing it for their discomfort.
“Ward?” Esmeralda exclaimed.
“Yes. A young lady.”
“You?”
It appeared Esmeralda was finally regaining her composure. “What about me?” he asked inoffensively.
“Shopping for a ward in here.” Loretta added, as indignant as Esmeralda had been. “You’re unsuitable to be responsible for a young lady.”
A feminine, “Yes, quite,” from Esmeralda followed suit. “You must be teasing us.”
Rath enjoyed them taking him to task. Especially now that the duchesses were getting over their astonishment at seeing him and were taking him to task. At first, he thought he’d have to bring out the smelling salts for them. Their demonstration that he lacked abilities to take proper care of Miss Fast didn’t stress him nearly as much as they were anguished at the possibility of him doing it.
“I’m not trying to fool you about this, ladies, and I beg to differ with you on my qualifications to be a responsible guardian. Women like me, and I, in turn, respect and appreciate them.”
“A bit too much, I’d say,” Loretta’s gaze remained fixed on his countenance.
Esmeralda blurted, “How did the poor unfortunate fall under your guardianship?”
“I was asked. By a family friend—who holds me in high regard.” Not quite the whole truth, but close enough. “And as unthinkable as it sounds for me to be responsible for a young lady, I’ve embraced the idea and am ready to take it on.”
“The poor lamb,” Esmeralda whispered.
Loretta didn’t let up, either. “What do you know about being a proper guardian to a young lady?”
“Not much,” he admitted honestly. It was easy to do since he knew the ladies so well.
“Who is she?” Esmeralda asked.
“Miss Marlena Fast. She’s not made her debut and I don’t think you would know of her. She was the ward of my father’s dearest friend. His ill health makes it impossible for him to continue.”
Loretta dug her teeth in and asked, “Rath, have you told our husbands about this outrageous situation?”
“No, but I believe they will hear about this today.” He feigned false encouragement. “I’ll await their gallant responses and their reprimands.”
Fortunately, Miss Fast was the reason he was in here, and she had given him the perfect justification to prolong this conversation a little longer and get him some much-needed help, too.
“I’m glad I ran into you today, Esmeralda.”
Clearly she wasn’t glad to be meeting him in Miss Lola’s shop.
“I was going to stop in at Miss Mamie Fortescue’s Employment Agency later today. I believe you were managing the place when you and Griffin met.”
“Yes,” she said warily. “That’s right.”
“Perhaps you could help me with something and save me the trouble of going by. If you wouldn’t mind?”
“Oh, well, yes, of course, if you need me.” She looked around the room quickly as if to assure herself there was no one else there to watch her continue to converse with a gentleman. “You know I’d be happy to help with anything I can—within reason. What did you have in mind?”
“I’m looking for a finishing governess for my ward.” Now that he’d said the words, he wasn’t sure exactly what they were called. He had little to no experience with a young lady who hadn’t made her debut. The ones he knew were already properly set for Society with all they needed by the time he was introduced to them.
He really didn’t know what went into getting a young lady ready for the Season other than fashions and the coveted invitations to the best parties and teas. There had to be more to it than that. Over the years he’d heard fathers talk about spending small fortunes to get their daughters ready for their debuts into Society and hopefully wedded bliss.
“I need someone who can prepare Miss Fast for the Season. Clothing, invitations to balls, Almack’s. Everything. All of it. Do you know someone to suggest?”
With his sincere request for her help and genuine regard for his ward’s welfare, Esmeralda’s expression turned inquisitive and she asked, “How old is she?”
“Nineteen or twenty, I would say. I didn’t ask. And it’s for this upcoming Season.”
“Oh, well that could be more difficult, Rath. I know several, of course, but whether or not they’d be available on short notice and at this late date, I’m not sure.”
“I’d be most grateful if you could look into it for me. If it’s not too much trouble for you.”
“Not at all.”
“Good, and I’d certainly make it worth the woman’s time and consideration.”
“I’m sure of that. It’s just most of them are already prepping young ladies for this Season, but of course, yes, I’d be happy to see if anyone is available and can assist you. I’ll be in touch about it when I have something to report.”
“Thank you,” he said with a slight bow.
“Rath,” Loretta said with all seriousness, “you know we’re fond of you—but perhaps you should give this duty of responsibility for a young lady over to someone with more experience.”
His brow arched. “Who would you suggest has more experience with ladies and their wants?”
“Ah—with that,” Esmeralda said confidently, “we must be getting on our way.”
“Yes,” Loretta echoed her friend’s sentiments. “We’ve another engagement.”
“Right. And we’re late.”
It was time to put the duchesses out of their misery and let them leave. But the devilish rake rose up inside him once more. It just wasn’t in his nature to deny himself, and he had to say, “Surely you wouldn’t leave without at least looking at the lace and silk?”
Rath reached over and touched a roll of lace. “The stitches are delicate. Must be Irish.” His hand moved to a rack of exotic, flamboyant silks as he looked at Esmeralda. “I can tell you that your husband is quite partial to this shade of peacock blue.”
“Not today,” Esmeralda said, lifting her chin the way only a beautiful duchess could. “We’ve seen enough in here.”
“But we’ll be delighted to move on so you can finish your shopping,” Loretta added and gave him a self-assured smile. “Should I tell Hawk you’ll be over to visit him soon?”
“I’ll expect him to have his best brandy open and ready.”
The duo then departed without further ado, the shop bell finalizing their exit.
Rath’s gaze trailed to the shop owner and he sincerely offered, “My apologies. I likely lost you a sale. Or two.”
“Perhaps, but the exchange was the most interesting I’ve witnessed all week.” Her eyes twinkled.
He laughed. “To make up for my conduct, I’ll take a bottle of your best perfume.”
A little while later Rath gathered his hat and packages and went out the door.
His stride, usually strong and sound, slowed. For a moment he questioned his judgment in this whole honor-bound duty of being a guardian. Being responsible for someone other than himself was a foreign affair. His carefree reputation was inarguable and he definitely wasn’t the most suited to be Miss Fast’s guardian.
But yes, he’d see to it Miss Fast married.
Taking up his swift pace toward his carriage once more, he tried to outrun that thought … because the notion of her married conjured visions of a husband he knew too well.
Himself.