The Rake and the Heiress. Marguerite Kaye

to reach a rose he had suggested—with no foundation whatsoever—looked particularly suspect. She had had to stretch, giving him a delightful view of her shapely ankles and a tantalising glimpse of her even more shapely rear as her dress was pulled tight. ‘Poor Serena, don’t give up yet, I’m sure I can think of lots more places to look.’

      She turned round to face him, her hands on her hips. ‘I’m sure you can. And I expect most of them will involve me clambering up on to something or crawling about on my hands and knees.’

      He stood to assist her down from the window. ‘It’s your own fault for having such a very charming derrière.’

      ‘A gentleman wouldn’t have looked.’

      ‘No, you’re wrong about that. No man, gentleman or other, could have resisted looking, but a gentleman would have pretended he had not.’

      ‘You told me you were a gentleman.’

      ‘I lied.’

      ‘You’re impossible,’ Serena said, trying desperately not to blush, for it only served to encourage him.

      And you are adorable, Nicholas thought. A long tendril of hair had escaped its pins and curled down her back over the tender nape of her neck, giving her a charmingly dishevelled air. Not for the first time he found himself imagining what she would look like with all of the pins removed, her hair loosened and allowed to cascade down over her bare shoulders. It would brush teasingly over her breasts, causing the rosy buds of her nipples to stiffen and darken in delicious contrast to the creamy fullness of…

      He dragged his eyes away. ‘Let’s go for a walk. We could both do with some fresh air.’ He picked up his coat, which was draped over a chair at the head of the long oak table. Serena was delightful, charming, and fun to be with into the bargain. A very heady and alluring combination. The evidence of that was pressing insistently at the fabric of his breeches. Adjusting the ruffles on his shirt sleeves, he pulled his waistcoat straight. ‘Come on, fetch your hat and shawl. It’s much too nice a day to stay cooped up in here. A stroll in the gardens is what we need. You’ll be relieved to know that it’s too early for the roses to be in bloom.’ Placing a hand firmly on the small of her back, he guided her from the room.

      Outside, Serena raised her face towards the sun, luxuriating in the gentle caress of its warm rays on her skin. ‘You’re right…’ she sighed contentedly ‘…his is a lovely idea. Where shall we go?’

      ‘There’s a pleasant walk down through the gardens to the trout stream at the bottom,’ Nicholas replied. ‘It’s been dry for almost a week now, so the path shouldn’t be too muddy.’

      ‘I wish you’d tell Madame LeClerc so. According to her, it has been raining non-stop since we arrived.’

      ‘The good Madame—and how is her heroic snoring?’

      Serena giggled. ‘I don’t know, thank goodness. I was so tired last night that I barely noticed. I should inform you, though, that her French sense of propriety is extremely offended at my spending so much time alone with you. She is for ever reminding me that my papa would strongly disapprove.’

      ‘And would he?’ Nicholas asked curiously.

      ‘That’s an impossible question since the only reason I am here with you in the first place is to do as he wishes. He would think our acquaintance—unwise.’

      ‘Perhaps he would be right. Most fathers would think the same way about me, I’ve a dreadful reputation. After all, I’ve already kissed you twice—who knows what else I have planned for you?’

      Serena stumbled. ‘You said you would not take liberties.’

      ‘I said I would not take anything that is not given freely. That’s quite a different matter.’

      ‘Oh.’ She glanced up at him through her lashes. ‘You know, I considered bringing Madame LeClerc here with me to ensure that nothing improper occurred between us.’

      ‘Good God, I’m very glad you didn’t. I suspect I’d have resorted to murder.’

      ‘If I have to put up with her for much longer, I’ll resort to murder myself. Her dresses may be charming, but her disposition is rather less so. I find her company tedious, and she finds our delay here beyond bearing. I can’t wait to be rid of the woman.’

      ‘When will that be?’

      ‘When I get to London. Once I have Papa’s papers, I’m to take them to his lawyer there in the city.’

      ‘And then? Do you have plans?’

      Serena frowned. ‘I thought I did, now I’m not so sure. You’ll think me fanciful, but I feel like—oh, I don’t know—a ship. All my life I’ve been safely anchored in a harbour, or becalmed, or tethered to another vessel. And now I’ve been cut free I can go where I want, do whatever I want to do. I don’t really want to make plans just yet. Don’t laugh.’

      ‘I’m not—far from it. I find the image of you unfurling your sails most distracting.’

      She blushed at the intimacy of his tone, but ventured no reply. They were walking side by side along a small path lined with cherry trees, the blossom just beginning to come into flower. Serena’s hand was tucked into Nicholas’s arm, their paces matched, so perfectly in tune that neither had noticed.

      The atmosphere over the last two days had been relaxed and lightly flirtatious. Until now, Nicholas had shown no sign of wishing to make more serious advances. Which was a good thing, Serena assured herself, and had indeed almost come to believe. Almost. Part of her was tempted to explore the attraction she felt between them, though it was a complication she could well do without. Every time he touched her, no matter how innocuous the circumstances—to hand her a book or her gloves, to seat her at the table or as now, to lend her an arm while they walked—a tiny shiver of awareness flickered inside her. Did he feel it too?

      I find the image of you unfurling your sails most distracting. She wished she had not mentioned it, for now she found it distracting too. Unfurling. Why was it such a sensual word?

      They continued strolling along the path, but their pace slowed. ‘There’s a seat by the stream and a pretty enough prospect from there over the fields,’ Nicholas said, pointing ahead. ‘We can rest there for a while in the sun, if you wish.’

      There was indeed a charming view from the little wooden bench they made their way towards. ‘It’s lovely, really lovely,’ Serena said delightedly. ‘I wonder if my papa and yours spent time fishing here. He told me they knew each other as boys.’

      ‘Did he? Then perhaps they did.’ Though Nicholas thought it more likely that Serena’s papa poached than fished, he decided not to disillusion her. ‘I fish here myself sometimes. There’s not much sport, trout and carp merely, and to be honest I haven’t the patience for fly fishing. I haven’t been here in an age—I’d almost forgotten how pleasant it is.’ He wiped the bench with a large handkerchief. Serena sat obediently, but Nicholas continued to stand, gazing off into the distance.

      ‘Don’t you spend much time at the Hall?’ she enquired.

      ‘No, not really. I have a town house in London—that’s where Georgiana, my half-sister, and her mother are at present. Georgie’s seventeen now, and Melissa is launching her on to the unsuspecting world. She’s a bit of a hoyden, Melissa is quite unable to control her, but she’ll be a hit none the less, she’s a pretty little thing with a handsome portion. Between my hunting box, visiting friends, and trips to the races at Newmarket, I’m lucky if I spend more than a month or so in a year down here.’

      ‘That seems a shame. It’s such a lovely place.’

      ‘Well, the prospect is certainly breathtaking at the moment.’

      He was not looking at the view. His meaning was unmistakable. Serena could think of no reply, only of what he would do next. She did not have to wait long.

      ‘Stand