The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(264)

She had found the mending basket with the help of Betsey. She saw that his footwear needed darning, his shirts buttons replaced. It was ever the way with bachelors, she was sure. As lady of the household in the absence of any other, it would be her duty…



"I say, those aren't my stockings, are they?" he said with a blush.



"Um, yes."



"Really, there's no need. I don't usually bother. I mean, it is not as if I can't afford to buy more."



"In which case they can go to the poor, but they still need to be mended."



"It's very kind of you."



"Not at all."



He felt his cheeks burn. What was it about so simple a gesture of kindness that had him lusting for her all over again?



Blake tried hard to concentrate on his work. After the initial distraction, he found he got on better than he had done when he'd been struggling to get the lecture done in the room on his own.



Well, I don't have to wonder and worry about what she's up to when she's with me, he decided as finished the last sentence with a flourish.



"All done?"



"Yes."



"May I read it?"



"You would find it awfully dull, my dear."



She pouted slightly. "I shall never learn if I only read novels."



He nodded. "True. Let me just glance over it once more."



Blake read it through and made a few changes.



Arabella approached the desk timidly and he sat her down. She read a few sentences, then lifted her head.



"You see, I told you. Dull as ditchwater."



"No, not at all. Actually, I was going to ask you if you minded my correcting the spelling and punctuation. Or is it just that your handwriting is poor, or you were working on it in the carriage and got jounced up and down?"



She pointed to a couple of errors he had indeed missed.



"Just so, my dear, though I own that one there is my writing."



He soon pulled up a chair next to her and they spent a pleasant hour going over the rest of the lecture. She volunteered to make him a fair copy to take with him to the medical college on Thursday.



"Oh, no, really, you don't have to."



"I don't mind, honestly. You can catch up on your correspondence whilst I do this."



So he sat beside her at the fine desk, she writing out neatly the corrected final draft of the fever paper whilst he skimmed through the mail, discarding several notes from Leonore and Rosalie without even opening them.



Why waste time? There was nothing either woman could say to him that he would find of even the remotest interest.



Several invitations also went in the wastebasket, but he kept back a couple he might not have ordinarily considered. Now that Arabella was with him, he could not always keep her in the house. Nor could he allow her to go with just a chaperone all the time.



Mrs. Evans was a good sort, but more of a governess than a woman of the world. She did not understand as he did the devices and strategems of a consummate rake. He had seen more than enough of them in action last evening at Lady Pemberton's ball to not wish for a repeat performance.



Though it had to be said, Arabella had acquitted herself admirably. Did she really have no idea how lovely she was?



He wrote to his friend Michael Avenel in Bath telling him of the unexpected turn of events, and to never mention to anyone the carriage incident he had told him about. He promised they would be down soon to see him.



Sarah Davenport's baby could be expected any time after Valentine's Day. They would go down the week before. That would mean writing to Mr. Jerome…



He looked consideringly at the dark head bent so close to his own. What to do for the best so far as Arabella was concerned, that was the question. She would only just be settling in here in London. On the other hand, to leave her here was unthinkable. They would buzz like flies around a honey-pot if he dared.



She loved the countryside, and sooner or later they would have to deal with her estate, also in Somerset, though some hours' ride from Millcote where the Jeromes lived. And the Stones too, he reminded himself. With the rest of the Rakehells only about six miles away in Brimley. It might do well to take Arabella there for some good society.



He took out a fresh sheet of paper and wrote a suitably deferential letter to Mr. Jerome stating he would be in the neighbourhood starting the approximately the tenth of February, and he would be pleased to call on him to pay his respects.



"That is a very weighty sigh," she observed quietly.



"I've told you I recently was named heir to a fine estate in Somerset. I shall have to go down there for a number of reasons, not least of which will be to close up your house for the time being if you're going to be living here."