The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(262)

"It was sort of reassuring to have someone who didn't make any demands upon me. Couldn't possibly think I would ever marry and have children with her. I have always been fearful of, well, consquences. That kept me in check all those years. No uncontrollable emotions, just a relationship between friends. I have to admit, my parents were not happily married."



When he remained silent for a time, she decided that was all he was going to say upon the subject. She thought it sensible not to press him for further details. Instead she nodded compassionately.



"I understand. My parents too. But then Father died, and Mother met Mr. Davison, and I got Peter for a brother. Then we were all happy for a time. Until Mother died, of course. Then Step-Papa."



"So now you're stuck with me."



"And you with me," she said coolly.



He gave another tight smile. "I cannot think of anyone more amenable to have as a ward. I'm sure we will manage admirably. No hard feelings about the past, Arabella?"



"Not hard ones, no. I would never think ill of you for what happened, since, after all, it was of both our own making. It was a silly blunder on both our parts for which I must take my fair share of the blame."



"Me too. As well as give you a formal promise that no similar blunder shall ever happen again," he said in a firm tone.



Arabella wished he would not say such a thing with quite such a degree of finality. After all, she had had a good look at Leonore. She had never been a great beauty in her life, she was sure of it, and middle age had certainly not improved her looks or her figure.



The carriage drew up in front of the house. Blake helped her down diffidently. He took her to the door, led her inside, and dismissing the butler, helped her off with her pelisse himself.



"Good night, my dear," he said in the hall. "Happy New Year."



"And to you. Good night, and thank you for letting me stay, Dr. Sanderson."



"Don't thank me yet. I might prove to be such an odious guardian that you will wish we'd never met."



She smiled. "Oh, you tease, sir. I'm sure I shall never have cause to say such a thing."



"I truly hope not, my dear."



"Nor you of me."



"Never," he said firmly.



"Good, then. I shall see you in the morning." She curtsied to him formally and swept up the stairs.





Only once she was gone did Blake feel he could breathe again. He expelled the pent-up air in a long whoosh, and striding down the hall, threw himself on the leather sofa in his sitting room.



This had easily been the most trying night of his life. And he was sure it was going to be just the first of many. He had wanted to murder every man who so much as looked at Arabella, let alone danced with her.



But Peter trusted him. He simply couldn't let his friend down. It was his own stupid fault. He should have paid attention a bit more.



Peter had been right about his head in a book comment. He had never thought the little child he recalled could have grown up, that she had kept her own last name, that Belle was a shortened form of her name which her family had always used affectionately.



But even had he known all that, who would ever have imagined they would have met on the road. Let alone that they would end up spending so much time with each other that they had stroked each other to passionate frenzy, nearly-



He sighed. His friend Jonathan Deveril the Rakehell would say fate was inexorable. He was not so sure. All he knew was it had dealt him a hand full of surprises, and tomorrow he would have to start playing the game of guardian over Arabella in earnest. For that he would need all his wits about him.



For never could the tender young eighteen-year-old be allowed to suspect that he lusted after her so badly that he had come back to London expressly to look for her, determined to make her his mistress. Nay, his wife.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN



Arabella rose long before the dawn, tired of tossing and turning in the bed. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Blake's handsome face smiling down at her. Sherecalled the wonderful sensation of being in his arms dancing the previous evening. She longed for his strong arms around her again, his wonderful hands and lips upon her hot flesh--



Nay, that way lay madness. She had to stop replaying in her mind what had happened between them at the inn.



She shook her head as if to clear it, lifted her embroidery hoop with a sigh and went downstairs even though it was early.



Blake came into the small breakfast room in a short time later and stared at her in surprise. "Good morning, my dear. Why have you risen so early after so late an evening? You ought to have stayed in bed."



"I thought we might make a start on some of our business together. You know. The terms of your guardianship. And I thought I might be of use to you, since you have been so kind to me."