Rakes Always Kiss First (Forbidden Kisses Book 2) Read online

Mary responded by hugging the woman. “I would like that very much!” Then a thought occurred to her. “What is the reason for me having a companion? You will be here with me, will you not?”

  “Our story will be that you must have someone unmarried with whom you can spend time, but it will also serve Nancy well to learn more skills.” She glanced past them. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must speak to Stephen.”

  Turning back to Nancy, Mary felt a surge of excitement. “We must buy you new dresses,” she said, which made the other woman’s face light up. “Oh, this will be so much fun! Now I can leave the house when I want rather than waiting for a time when Constance is available to accompany me. And to think, we can attend parties together, too!”

  “Do you think I’ll do good as a companion?” Nancy asked. “I worry my acting’ll…acting will only take me so far.”

  “You will not only do well,” Mary corrected, “but you will do wonderfully. I say we go tomorrow to buy your new dress.”

  Nancy gave a shy smile. “I’d like that, but perhaps we can wait another day? I’d like to spend time with Robert before he leaves.” Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, and Mary felt a twinge of jealousy, not for Robert directly but because the two had a relationship in the first place.

  “Of course,” Mary replied. “I forgot he will be leaving, as well. Are you sure you want to remain? Would you not rather return with him?”

  Nancy glanced toward Robert. “My heart wants to join him, but I must learn more roles. One day, we shall be wed and find our life together, but I still have too much to learn.”

  Mary nodded, and the two continued to talk. Though she was not leaving with the others the following day and would remain at the estate, she was no longer angry about it. In fact, having the opportunity to teach Nancy combined with more opportunities to leave the house more often, she was looking forward to the days ahead.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Mary wished Emma and the others well and left them to finish preparations to leave. Sweetspire Estates had become her home, and Mary loved walking through the green grass dotted with wildflowers. Perhaps fifteen minutes from the house flowed a stream where Mary and her sisters swam on several occasions after moving into the grand house, and Mary wanted to do so today.

  Swimming provided a sense of freedom, as if the current washed away one’s worries or fears, and Mary had excused herself a few times to do just that as soon as the weather permitted. During the winter months, she yearned for that freedom, and she would have swum in the freezing current if Constance had allowed it. Well, perhaps not if it was freezing.

  In her hand she carried a small wicker basket that contained a bottle of wine, a glass, and a small selection of cheeses and bread. Her plan for the day was simple. First, she would swim and enjoy the early morning sun that shone down on her. Later, she would sit with her wine and consider what the future held. It was a favorite way to spend the day, and she would enjoy every moment of it.

  Constance had warned her more than once that worrying about the future was not prudent, for one did not know what the future held. However, Mary ignored that advice. She imagined a day when a noble gentleman would see her, and the two would immediately fall in love. He would be of strong heart and mind, and together they would live a life to which she was accustomed mixed with a bit of adventure. No, not a bit - much adventure.

  She would show him their refuge in the woods, and the man would be overcome with admiration for her ability to live in such a place while remaining a lady. Few women would be able to do such a thing, she was certain. Of course, her sisters had done so, but that was a testament to the strength of them all.

  The man, in turn, would be as handsome as he was noble, being afraid of nothing, for his bravery would run deep.

  Letting out a thoughtful sigh, Mary paused at a thicket of trees. A small forested area ran between this point and the river, and though it never took her long to go through it, she worried each time she had to. Her mind returned to when she and her sisters had nearly been robbed and a man had threatened Constance with a knife at her throat. Fear unlike any other had come over Mary, and she thought they would all be killed. That is until Stephen appeared, saving them all.

  “These woods are small,” Mary whispered to herself. “There are no highwaymen in them, at least not here. Now, you may be brave like Constance and Louisa, or you may run back to the house in fear.”

  Gripping the basket, she stepped into the darkened woods. The air cooled almost immediately as the trees blocked the sun, and she shivered. No, she would not be afraid! She was brave!

  She made long strides down the trail, using the skills she had been taught to make as little noise as she could. Doing so was also much easier given the clothes she wore - a man’s white shirt and tan breeches no lady of the ton would ever be caught wearing. The outfit proved both comfortable and practical, one of the many rules of society she and her sisters had broken over the past year.

  Hurrying through the woods, Mary smiled as she looked ahead where the trees began to thin and the river came into view. Sunlight glinted off the crystal blue water of a pool that was set off the main current of the river, and Mary could not wait to soak in it, so much so that her fear was replaced with excitement at swimming alone. She had seen no one come here, besides herself and her sisters, and at times Charles before he left for school, and she looked forward to some time alone.

  She placed the basket on a boulder and set to undressing. She had fashioned a thin undershirt from a shift to wear under the man’s shirt - men’s shirts were not nearly as comfortable as women’s! - so she stripped away the shirt and breeches. Once she had tossed the clothes on a nearby log, she walked to the riverbank. Pausing at the edge of the water, she reached out a toe and tested the temperature. It was cool, but with the sun blazing down on her, it would be a welcome relief.

  Therefore, she walked into the water until she reached the deepest point of the pool. The water came to just beneath her breasts, and after taking a deep breath, she dipped her head under the water, returning to the surface with a gasp. The water was cooler than she had first thought. It did not take long for her to acclimate herself to it, and soon she was floating on her back or moving her arms back and forth across the surface of the water. She closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the solitude, and soon thoughts of the future returned.

  With Nancy now as her companion, she would not be forced to burden Constance with chaperoning her. Mary would be able to attend more parties, for the invitations, though few, had started to arrive. Word had traveled rather quickly that Stephen and Constance had taken over the estate and that Constance had two sisters of marrying age. Many were curious to meet them, and Mary had no doubt a fine gentleman would be among them.

  “Then we will fall in love,” Mary murmured as she floated on her back once again, her eyes closed to block out the brightness of the sun - and to allow her imagination to play out the possibilities. “We will embark on a great journey together filled with adventure.” She sighed, relishing in the moment as if it were happening right then.

  “That would be fun,” a deep voice said. “May I ask who the lucky man is?”

  Mary opened her eyes and screamed when she found a man standing on the bank, his white shirt pulled out of his breeches and a coat folded over his arm. Fear gripped her. Was he a thief or a gentleman? At the moment, she could not be certain.

  “My life is such a bore, yet yours sounds very exciting,” the man continued with a grin as he pushed back dark hair that fell to his shoulders. He was a handsome man with high cheekbones and a strong jawline, but what was he doing here?

  She found she had no words, and when she did not answer, he went on with his barrage of questions. “Do you often speak aloud to yourself? They say it’s a sign of madness, you know.”

  Mary glanced around in hopes of seeing someone else, though she knew she would find no one. She was alone, in a river - she glanced down and gave a yelp - and in no
thing more than the thin shift that hung down to no further than her hips! Lowering herself so the water safely covered her breasts, she shot him a glare.

  “You do not speak when spoken to?” he asked in clear amusement. “Yes, you certainly are mad.” Without a moment of warning, he threw his coat beside her clothes and pulled his shirt over his head. He had a strong, broad chest that could have been sculpted by any artist, and for some reason unknown to her, she desired to touch it.

  “If I keep speaking to myself, perhaps I am the one who is mad.” He shrugged and threw his shirt on top of his coat, his arm muscles bulging.

  As his feet touched the water, Mary finally collected her wits. “Do not come in!” she said. “I must warn you that doing so will bring you harm!” She used her most menacing tone, but when he laughed, she realized how non-menacing she sounded.

  “Harm?” he said, still chuckling as he walked further into the pool. “That is no way for a lady to speak.”

  He took another step, and Mary glanced about to determine the best route to take to get away without allowing him to see all of her. Oh, bother! Why had she not kept on the shirt as well as the shift?

  “I am a lady,” she said with her best scowl. “And you, sir, are no gentleman if you continue into my river. If you were a gentleman, you would leave and allow me to don my clothes before returning. To do otherwise is indecent!”

  “Indecent?” he said with a laugh. “I just so happen to be in my breeches, which is acceptable.” She wanted to slap that rakish grin off his arrogant face! “And this river you claim is yours is, in fact, mine, for it borders my property. I will not have a woman who wears men’s clothing tell me otherwise.”

  Mary gasped. “How did you know…” Her voice trailed off as realization hit her. “You watched me undress? Have you no decency?”

  The man moved closer, and Mary thought the fear would drown her before he could reach her. “My name is Lord Anthony Greyson, Baron Greyson if you will, and you, Lady Who Wears Men’s Clothing and Speaks to Herself, what is your name?” His voice was like honey, and the sun seemed to complement his smile - or his smile complemented the sun. Either way, she wavered between absolute horror and complete adoration, for she could not keep her eyes off his well-sculpted features.

  “I’m Miss Mary Shepherd,” she said. “And I do not wish…” He took another step forward, and she lowered herself until the water touched her chin. “Please, do not come any closer.” Absolute horror won out over the adoration, and she crossed her arms over her breasts even though they were hidden beneath the water.

  “Do not fear, Miss Mary,” he said. “I’m no scoundrel.” Then he laughed, the sweetness now gone. “Well, perhaps I am that, but all the same, you should not fear me.”

  “I fear no man,” Mary said with as much indignation as she could muster, though she took another step back. Her foot slipped on a rock in the bed of the river, causing her to fall, and her head went below the water. Strong hands gripped her and pulled her up, sputtering. With her hair hanging over her face, she could see nothing, but he still held her arms.

  “Let go of me, you rogue! Or I’ll scream!”

  Lord Greyson laughed. “You are not very appreciative of me saving your life,” he said.

  She pushed the wet strands of hair from her face and glared up at the man who wore a wide smile as water glistened off his taught muscles, making her legs grow weak.

  “You did not save my life,” she said. “I simply fell and you saved me before I could right myself.”

  “Ah, see! You admit I did save you!”

  She shook her head in frustration. The man may be handsome, but his conduct and words were causing her ire to grow. “Whether or not you saved me,” she managed to stammer, “it is not appropriate for us to be seen like this. Now, will you please excuse yourself from the river?”

  “There is no one around, and the trees will not talk of what they see.” He gave her a wink, exasperating her further. “And do not deny that being in my presence has made you curious about me. You find yourself wanting to run away and yet you are conflicted, for you also want to remain. I understand, for I’m handsome and very few women can resist me.”

  Mary stared at him aghast. “I have heard highwaymen speak with more honor and dignity than you!” What she said was a lie, but certainly no gentleman spoke in such a manner. “You claim you are a baron, yet you trap a woman in a river? Does it bring you joy to make me suffer, wondering if my life is in danger?”

  Lord Greyson laughed so hard, she thought he might fall. “Your life in danger?” he said, mocking. “Your life is safe, but may I tell you something that will help you in the future?” Mary did not give him the benefit of a response. “Next time, do not trespass on another’s property.”

  “This is my property!” she said. “That is, I am under the care of the guardians of this land.”

  “Ah, yes, Lady Dewhirst died,” the man said. She was surprised his words held a bit of sorrow, but not much. “You must be one of the sisters of the woman…what is her name? Lady Constance Chambers?”

  “How did you know?”

  Lord Greyson chuckled. “I know everything. I have lived here all my life. Well, that is a lie, for over the last four months, I have been living in Dover a majority of the time. But that does not matter. I’m sorry for your loss, but Lady Dewhirst gave me permission on several occasions to swim in her river.”

  Mary, her arms still crossed over her breasts, glowered at the man. “You admit this river belongs to her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you admit that you watched me undress and then lied about the ownership of this land so you could…”

  “Join you in the water?” The way this man spoke to her, so casual and intimate as if they had known each other for years, was infuriating. “That is exactly what I did, Miss Mary Shepherd.”

  “Good day to you, sir,” she said staring at the hand he held out to her. He wanted her to uncross her arms so he could get in a good peek! Blast this thin shift! And blast this man! “If you would please turn around, I will gather my clothes and leave.” She went to move past him, but he placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Wait, please.”

  Though she wanted anything but to continue this conversation, she stopped and pursed her lips. “Yes? What is it?”

  “Forgive me. You see, I know I’m handsome, and the number of women who desire me can sometimes be a burden. But though I have caught the eye of many, none have caught mine. Watching you undress was unbecoming of me, but now in my presence, I think you do not mind, do you?” A sly smile crossed his face, and for the second time Mary considered slapping him.

  “Lord Greyson, you are the most arrogant and crude man I have ever encountered. If you mean to somehow woo me with your words, you have sorely failed.”

  He studied her for a moment. “You are a determined woman with strong words, yet I imagine you will change your mind soon enough.”

  Mary clenched her fists. She had heard enough of this man’s rudeness! To think she would choose to kiss him was reprehensible, and she went to tell him as much. Yet, before she could let out a single word, the man pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers.

  She should have been angry - irate! - and she battled to keep that reaction in the forefront, but pleasure made every attempt to push through mute, for the kiss caused an odd tremor to run down her spine and created a sensation in her stomach she had never encountered before.

  His lips were possessive as his hands moved to her waist and held her firmly. Making a small fist, Mary thought to pummel his chest, to put an end to this assault. Yet, the most unusual thing happened, something Mary could not explain.

  Her hands took on a life of their own. Instead of beating the man as he deserved, her hands spread out and began exploring his broad chest, every taut muscle and crevice left untouched. She went to draw more breath, but Lord Greyson’s kiss closed off any attempt. He caressed her face as his lips ravished her
s, and her fingers moved from his chest to the large muscles of his arms, where they rested as if they had always belonged there.

  Her legs threatened to collapse, any control she may have had long since gone. But his strong arms wrapped around her, drawing her closer and preventing her from falling. The fire inside her threatened to rage, to boil the water around them, to burn her alive.

  Why was she no longer resisting? To her shock, she realized she did not want to. In fact, she wished his lips to explore further, to draw out the yearning inside her.

  Then, to her dismay, the kiss came to an abrupt end. She dropped her arms to her side, and he placed a thumb on her chin, his eyes glinting as he glanced down at the thin wet fabric molded to her bosom. He smiled with pleasure. Or was it conquest? She was unsure, but sense returned as his eyes raked over her face.

  Mary tried to cover herself, but his lips brushed hers in a most teasing manner, igniting her desire once more.

  “There,” he whispered. “Now, tell me. How could you resist another?”

  The severity of what had just happened hit her like a boulder, and the reality of this man bringing her to the point of almost enjoying such sordid behavior made her boil with anger. “You are the most despicable man I have ever met!” She balled up her hands and began to pound on his chest. “I will not be pacified by your kiss, which is the worst I have ever had!”

  He made no move to stop her from hitting him. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh, then you have kissed many men?” He roared with laughter.

  The anger that had first risen in her turned to rage. This man had invaded her privacy, insulted her, and stolen a kiss, and he would pay dearly! Remembering a lesson Constance had taught her, Mary dropped her arms to her side, offered him a sweet smile and took a step closer, batting her eyelashes demurely as she did so.

  “What I have done in my life,” she whispered, placing a hand on his chest, admiring his taut muscles and smooth skin, “is my business and none of yours.”