Scoundrel in the Regency Ballroom: The Rake and the Heiress / Innocent in the Sheikh's Harem. Marguerite Kaye
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sake, please call me Serena. I can’t bear to be on formal terms. In any case, it’s absurd, to have been grovelling about amongst all this dirt and cobwebs and still to call each other Mr Lytton and Mademoiselle Stamppe, a name I find rather strange, even if it is my own.’
‘I’m honoured. Serena is a beautiful name, and I’d be flattered if you’d call me Nicholas.’
‘Papa named me for serenity, although I’m not sure he got it quite right. But thank you, Nicholas.’
She pronounced it in the French way, leaving off the last consonant, making awareness curl in the pit of his stomach. There was something inherently sensual about her, made more so because he could not make up his mind whether or not she intended it. Nicholas. It was like a caress.
‘I take it you don’t favour this room yourself,’ Serena said, looking around her, oblivious of his stare. ‘I’m not surprised, it’s quite depressing.’
‘I agree,’ Nicholas replied, dragging his mind back to their conversation. ‘To be honest, I’ve never been enamoured of the idea of taking over the room of a dead parent. Rather off-putting, I would imagine, especially if one had company. As if one was being watched at a time when one would particularly wish not to be observed.’
Serena gave a startled gasp. ‘There was no need to be so blunt! I thought only that the room was oppressive. What you do—or don’t do—in your own bedchamber is none of my business.’
‘Not yet.’ Giving her no time to respond to this challenge, Nicholas grasped Serena by the elbow and headed towards the door. ‘That’s the last of the hiding places I remember for the present. It has obviously escaped your notice, but it is long past noon, and I am ravenous. I asked Hughes to set out a luncheon for us downstairs, but before you sit down, my lovely Serena, you should know that you have smut on your nose, so I will direct you to a room where you can clean up, and I will see you as soon as you have done so. Don’t keep me waiting lest I faint from hunger.’
Turning her by the shoulders, he pointed Serena in the direction of a doorway down the long corridor and strode effortlessly down the stairs towards the breakfast parlour.
After lunch they engaged in a few more hours of fruitless searching before Nicholas judged it time to call it a day. ‘There’s always tomorrow,’ he said brightly. ‘Rest assured I’ll rack my brain for more ideas to occupy us then.’
‘You don’t sound overly disappointed by our lack of progress,’ Serena said suspiciously. ‘In fact, you sound quite pleased.’
Nicholas flashed her a seductive smile. ‘The longer it takes, the more grateful you are liable to be.’
‘As I said earlier, Mr Lytton, you take far too much for granted. Right now, what I would be most grateful for is the comfort of my bed. It’s been a long and tiring day, I must return to my lodgings.’
‘Then I insist you let me send a servant to accompany you. After all, we wouldn’t want any aspersions to be cast on your reputation or intentions, now would we?’
‘No, Mr Lytton,’ Serena conceded with a smile, ‘we most certainly would not.’
‘If I never see another Tudor rose before I die I’ll be happy.’ Serena was perched precariously on a window seat in the formal dining room at Knightswood Hall the next day. ‘My fingers are aching from tapping and prodding and poking at panelling. I’m beginning to think this is a wild goose chase.’
After hours of searching they were no further forward, but although she knew she should be concerned, she was finding it very hard to fret. Her father had created this situation, giving her no option but to keep company with a man whom she was almost certain was a rake. The world would surely damn her if it ever found out, but she would make sure it didn’t, and in the meantime, provided the rake continued to behave, she was enjoying herself.
Nicholas smiled lazily up at Serena from the chair from which he had been watching, with relish, her attempts 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 ‘…this 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