Writing the Rake (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 5) Read online

  “I am well,” was all she said, her words stilted, and he nodded, turning from her abruptly. She saw Celeste and Freddie looking upon the two of them with surprise as Benjamin wished them all a good afternoon and went on his way.

  Which was just as well. For Alice had no need for a man like Benjamin Luxington in her life.

  No need at all.

  “What was that all about?” Freddie asked as she and Miles followed Benjamin until she tugged on his elbow hard enough that he stopped.

  “That seemed quite rude,” Miles said with a frown.

  “Miss Cunningham may not be the type of woman who would be among your usual preference, but she is quite lovely, and I thought that you were, at the very least, friends with one another. To simply drop her hand and run away like that, one would—oh.” Freddie’s visage fell, and Benjamin ran a hand over his face as Freddie and Miles stared at him with matching expressions of disappointment he had come to know far too well.

  “Benjamin, you didn’t,” Freddie said, tilting her head to the side, her chocolate hair piled on top.

  “I didn’t!” he said, raising his eyes at the fact that the two of them would so quickly suspect him of such. “And least not… I didn’t ruin her. All right?”

  Freddie arched a brow, and Miles stared at him, willing him to tell the truth, and finally Benjamin relented.

  “It was a chaste kiss in the gardens one night,” he said, holding up his hands. “That is all. She and I are friends — or at least, we were. I never meant for anything further to happen.”

  “But it did,” Freddie said, placing her hands on her hips. “Oh, Benjamin. Alice is young, and she likely now has fanciful notions toward you, which—”

  “Which is exactly why I did not allow it to go any further than that,” Benjamin said, though a bit of guilt knocked on his shoulder as he thought of the hope that had entered Alice’s eyes after their kiss. It was why he had immediately left her there — alone — and hadn’t pursued her since then.

  “We both understand the expectations of one another,” he continued. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am finished with your lectures, and I am going for a cheroot.”

  “Oh, I really wish you wouldn’t,” Freddie said, but Benjamin was striding across the marble floor before she could finish her sentence.

  He had a mother already — in fact, she was on the other side of the room speaking with Alice’s mother — and he had no wish for another. He was a free, independent man.

  And it was going to stay that way.

  Chapter 2

  “Alice Cunningham?”

  Alice whipped her head around when she heard her name, wondering where the small voice was coming from. She was surprised when she found that she actually had to look down in front of her.

  “Yes?”

  “A note for you, ma’am,” said the young boy, who passed up a folded piece of paper. Alice looked curiously up and down the Mayfair street in front of her. She had left the wedding festivities for a moment to take in the fresh air around her, a moment outside of the same room as that of which Benjamin Luxington occupied.

  She knew it was stupid, but she didn’t think she could stand there for one more moment and watch him charm the whole of London society — old and new.

  Where this street lad had come from, she couldn’t say.

  “How did you know who I was?” she asked with curiosity, but he just grinned impishly and winked at her, giving Alice the feeling that she wasn’t going to get anything out of him unless she parted with some coin, which she didn’t even have on her.

  Instead, she opened the letter, her eyes quickly perusing the contents.

  Find something else to write about, she read, her lips parting in shock as she did so, and leave the rest of us alone!

  She looked down at the young lad with wide eyes.

  “Where did you get this?” she demanded, but he shrugged.

  “From a man.”

  “What did he look like?”

  But the boy shook his head, refusing to impart any information. Alice ground her fists at her sides as she looked around the street, but the few people that were passing by had no interest in her.

  “Will you take a message back?” she asked, leaning down so that she was on the same level as he, taking in, as she did so, the threadbare status of his hat and jacket, as well as hollowness of his cheeks, and she now wished that she did have something to give him, if for no other reason than to allow him to feed himself. She hoped that, at the very least, the person threatening her was paying him handsomely.

  “I’m supposed to await your reply,” he said, folding his hands behind his back and puffing his chest out.

  “Tell this person that I most absolutely will not give up!” she said before sighing and straightening tall once more as the urchin nodded and then took off down the street.

  Alice didn’t bother to follow him — she knew better than that. All that was likely to happen was that she would end up with a torn dress and unfounded rumors about just where she had been.

  Sadly, it wasn’t the first time that it had been “suggested” she quit writing tales so close to the truth that no one was fooled by the names nor the settings she had concocted. It was just… her fans looked forward to each serial, and she had developed such a following now, she didn’t know how she could do anything different.

  Besides that, no one wanted to read the stories that came out of her own imaginings. They were boring. Nonsensical. Rejected.

  No, the sensational was what was in demand. And, therefore, the sensational she would give.

  Besides that, she didn’t see how it was hurting anyone. All ended happily. She gained permission of everyone involved. She changed names. And no one’s reputation ever came into question.

  Well… she bit her lip as she reflected on that. Perhaps that was not completely true. For there were the stories that named the rake as the villain, that suggested there were those who could never enter hero status due to their utter lack of respect for the majority of women.

  Men like Benjamin Luxington.

  Although he, unlike most of the well-known profligate rakes of London, had not yet taken a role in any of her stories.

  She just couldn’t bring herself to write about him.

  Alice tilted her head back, the bright sun hitting her face, and she closed her eyes as she allowed the warmth to sink into her, easing her chilled bones. She should return inside sooner rather than later. She was out here without a chaperone, having managed to slip out without her mother’s awareness. While her mother was not overly strict, she also had a great deal of care for her children’s reputations, and after all that Ollie had done to threaten it a couple of years ago, their mother was extra diligent now when it came to Alice.

  That Oliver’s affair had ended in marriage didn’t seem to matter. There had been scandal, which she said a baron could recover from. A baron’s sister would not have such luck.

  Alice finally dipped her head back to the present, determining that she would enjoy this day, and not let Oliver, nor her mother, nor this anonymous threat, and most certainly not Benjamin Luxington take any of her joy away from her.

  She loved her work, readers loved her work, and that was all that mattered.

  “Miss?”

  Alice sighed. It was the boy again, and this time he was waving from the other side of the road. She really didn’t want to engage in a back and forth through this poor child, but she wasn’t sure what other option she had at the moment. “Can you come here a moment?”

  “What is it?” she asked, lifting her skirts slightly and beginning to stride across the street. “Was my response not acceptable? I thought it was abundantly clear, but perhaps—”

  Alice wasn’t sure what caught her attention. It could have been the unusual sound of the horse’s hooves thundering around the corner of the quiet street, or the boy’s telling glance to the side, or the intuition that suddenly hit deep in her stomach. But something was most assuredly wrong, but she took a step backward, away from the boy and toward the other side of the road, intent on returning from where she had come.

  It didn’t seem to matter where or how quickly she went, however, for a team of two horses carrying a small phaeton careened around the corner, travelling so fast that the carriage was, for a moment, suspended on two wheels.

  Alice gave out a bit of a shriek as she began to run toward the side of the road, far out of the way, but it didn’t matter where she went, for the team seemed to follow after her everywhere she ran, from one side of the street to the other.

  Finally, she had enough, and stopped right in the middle of the road, turning with her hands on her hips and looking up at the driver, whose hat was tipped as low as it could possibly be over his brow.

  He had to stop, she reasoned, as the seconds seemed to draw out longer as the carriage approached. He wasn’t going to run her down in cold blood, here in the middle of a busy neighborhood.

  The carriage continued on its course.

  Or was he?

  Benjamin stepped out in front of the house in search of air not so stifling and scented. Here he could find a moment alone, for out back in the small gardens near the mews, he was likely to be stalked by some woman he had previously known and would prefer to forget.

  If the cheroot was going to be had, it would be had out here. He struck one of the matches Jemima — Mrs. Thompkins now — had given him, pleased when it lit up immediately, allowing him to light the end of his cheroot and draw in the smoke.

  He closed his eyes in silent gratefulness as he exhaled, but then suddenly he was sent into a huge coughing fit at the sight in front of him.

  There was Alice Cunningham — dressed in one of her usual vibrant colors, today a gown of royal
blue — stalking across the street. Her target was… a street urchin? No, it couldn’t be, Benjamin reasoned, shaking his head. What would Alice have to do with such a lad?

  But he had no more time to think on that, for just then a team of horses and its carriage came thundering around the corner — straight for her.

  “Alice!” he called, taking a step forward, although he was sure she couldn’t hear him.

  Change paths, he willed the driver, but the driver only leaned lower over the reins, apparently urging the horses on, as he turned them directly toward Alice.

  She obviously came to the same realization, and she did exactly what Benjamin would have done — she attempted to run toward the closest side of the street, likely to find a place she could hide out of their path.

  What she couldn’t see from her vantage point was that there was a space between the stones in the wall where she could likely hide. Right now, it was her only hope as it seemed this man was determined in his pursuit of her. Benjamin willed her toward it at the same time he pushed himself into action.

  He launched himself away from the wall, dropping his newly lit cheroot as he broke into a run. Time seemed to tick backwards as Alice turned and, perhaps caught by the sudden imagining of her impending end, she simply stared at the horses and driver, a hand held out in front of her.

  “Alice, run!” Benjamin called out, although he was sure she couldn’t hear him over the noise of the hooves and the yells of onlookers, and the shout to stop that Benjamin realized came from Alice herself.

  Before she even knew he was there — before he even knew exactly what he was doing — he made it to her, scooped her up, crossed the road in two long strides, and, without breaking step, knelt and tossed her over his shoulder before mercifully finding the crevice in the wall.

  For a moment, Benjamin didn’t hear anything except for an exaggerated panting that was either his or Alice’s, he couldn’t be sure.

  “Put me down.”

  Benjamin had just peered out the crevice to see if her four-legged pursuers were still after her, but they were already down the street and turning the corner — and Benjamin saw why.

  The entrance to the Mayfair house where they had been celebrating was now filled with onlookers — her own brother, Lord Essex, at the very front with his hands on his hips as he stared across the road at them while his wife had her lips to his ear — perhaps she was telling him not to kill him, Benjamin thought with a wince.

  He finally complied with Alice’s order, except instead of simply depositing her onto her feet, he slowly slid her down over his shoulder, her delicious curves kissing his body as they left friction in their wake, until she was back on her feet, although he still held her flush against him.

  “Benjamin Luxington!” she said, her entire body seemingly vibrating as she glared up at him, and Benjamin suddenly realized she was likely not about to emit a thank you for saving her life. “You, sir, are—”

  “Very much in our debt.”

  Suddenly her brother was there, clapping his hands on Benjamin’s shoulders, and as much as it pained him to leave Alice’s delicious curves alone, Benjamin had to reluctantly step back and around to focus on her brother instead — a sorry task, for Essex’s brown eyes didn’t cause nearly the same stirrings within him as Alice’s did.

  Oliver already had Benjamin’s hand in one of his, the other covering the top of it, as he pumped his entire arm up and down with more strength than Benjamin would have guessed the astronomer had within him.

  “Thank you, Luxington,” Oliver was saying profusely. “You saved my sister’s life. Thank you very much. I’m not sure how I can ever repay you.”

  “I was in the right place at the right moment,” Benjamin said as though there was a need to defend himself. He wasn’t used to such accolades — nor did he deserve them in any way. It seemed Alice agreed, for when he turned to her, she had crossed her arms over her chest as though warding herself away from him.

  “My apologies, Miss Cunningham. I shouldn’t have taken the liberty to lift you as I did, but I was merely trying to remove you from harm’s way as quickly as I could.”

  Alice opened her mouth to respond, and Benjamin found himself rather intrigued by what might next come out, for she never ceased to entertain him — even if she was being rather contrary.

  “It’s absolutely fine,” Oliver cut in. “I’m sure my sister has no ill will whatsoever regarding your method of rescue.”

  He fixed a look on Alice that nearly caused Benjamin to break out in laughter, while Alice just rolled her eyes.

  “You picked me up like a sack of beans,” she exclaimed, and Benjamin nodded, while he was actually somewhat relieved by her indignant words, for they kept him distracted from the terror that was still swirling strong within his chest.

  When he had seen those horses hurtling straight toward Alice, he had reacted too quickly to even consider what he was doing or what was happening to her. Now that she was out of harm’s way and was standing here, safe in front of him, panic began to claw its way up his throat and was now causing him to nearly dissolve into tremors. He had to clasp his hands behind his back to keep anyone from noticing.

  He was Benjamin Luxington — well-known rake and charmer, a man who never allowed anything to affect him. He should be celebrating the fact he had saved the life of a lovely young woman with whom his family was acquainted.

  For that was all Alice was, and all she ever would be.

  She was far too good for a man like him — of that, he was certain.

  Alice knew she was being rude. If Benjamin hadn’t come along… she placed a hand over the left side of her chest in an attempt to slow the beating of her racing heart. She would have found a way to save herself, she determined. She was sure of it, actually.

  She hadn’t needed Benjamin — and didn’t need him for anything else.

  At least, that was what she continued to tell herself, for she couldn’t want a man like him. Any affection she thought she had for him was simply a young girl’s infatuation. She was two-and-twenty now and was much better prepared to defend herself against the charm of a rake like him.

  So what if he had just saved her life in a move that was well worthy of the finest of heroes from any of her books? It was, as he had said, that he was in the right place at the right time, and nothing more than that.

  Any tingles she had experienced from the touch of his body against hers were simply the resulting rush of relief at it all ending with her safety.

  “What happened?” Oliver asked now, as their mother joined them on the walkway at the entrance to the house.

  “Nothing,” Alice said, attempting to dissuade them and their concerns, but they would not be deterred.

  “Alice,” Oliver said more firmly now, “what happened?”

  “She was being chased down by a team of horses,” Benjamin said, scratching his head in wonderment as he answered for her. “The driver was clearly targeting her. I came outside for a cheroot and saw him careening around the corner. It looked like Alice was trying to get out of the way, but he followed her in every direction she went.”

  Oliver turned to Alice with eyes wide.

  “Is this true?”

  She cast an annoyed stare at Benjamin to let him know just what she thought of his apparent helpfulness.

  “Yes, most of it,” she admitted.

  Oliver flapped his hands out to the side.

  “Why would someone have any inclination to hurt you?”

  “Well…” Alice cocked her head, unsure of how much she should tell her brother.

  “What is that?” Benjamin asked abruptly, and Alice was grateful for his interjection. Maybe he was of some use after all.

  “What’s what?” Celeste asked.

  “That there, on the ground,” Benjamin said, bending down to pick up a slip of paper, and suddenly Alice wasn’t so grateful anymore.

  “Nothing, I’m sure,” she said, reaching to take it from his hands, but he held it too high for her to grasp.

  “It’s addressed to you, Miss Cunningham,” he said, and Alice set the heels of her ruined kid slippers back onto the cobblestones below her. There would be no recovering the note now. Not from him — nor from Oliver, she was sure.