Page 82 of A Rake's Revenge


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Tisdale looked around. “Where is Kendrick?”

Caroline tried not to let her relief show. If the earl was asking that question, then it was probably safe to assume Stephan hadn’t been arrested. “I have not seen him.”

Tisdale gave her a suspicious look, but she simply smiled.

“No matter. He is not here, I am. And I claim the right to be your partner for the game.”

“I had not intended to play, my lord.”

His expression darkened. “I say you will.”

“It is unladylike to be rude,” her father added.

Caroline wondered again if the earl had managed to get her father’s ear. Before she could come up with some excuse, a loudwhack! was heard from the playing area, followed by a howl of pain.

She whipped her head around at the sound to see Brice hopping about on one foot while he held his other knee drawn up to his chest with both hands. A boxwood ball lay on the ground near him and not far away, Sarah stood transfixed, a wooden mallet in her hand. The crowd had cleared a circle around her.

Caroline hurried toward them. “What happened?”

“She tried to kill him!” a lady tittered.

“No! I didn’t!” Sarah turned, obviously looking for the person who’d accused her. “I didn’t see Lord Barclay when I hit the ball.”

“He was standing right in the path,” a second woman said.

“Probably the first time Barclay has ever been invisible to a woman!” a man’s voice rang out, and a group of them laughed.

Sarah’s face had gone from ashen to flame. “I didn’t…did not…try to kill you, Lord Barclay. Please forgive me.”

“Apology…accepted,” Brice said between clenched teeth as he gingerly put weight on the injured leg. “Nothing is broken.”

She fumbled in her pocket for her spectacles and placed them on her nose. “I should have worn these.”

“Why do we not go back to the Pavilion and get some tea?” Caroline suggested and subdued the urge to smile when both Sarah and Brice gave her grateful looks. She probably should feel a bit of sympathy for Brice since his attempt at gallantry had not exactly paid off and now he was limping, but Sarah looked even more miserable.

Brice gave the mallet Sarah was still holding a wary look. “You might leave that here.”

She looked down, her face pink again, and dropped it as though it were a hot iron. “Of course.”

Caroline decided to take pity on the girl and linked arms with her. “In England, as you will come to find out, a spot of tea cures just about everything.”

“Especially if it has some brandy laced in it.” Brice forced a smile. “I could use some of Kendrick’sA de Fussignyright about now.”

At the mention of the French cognac, Caroline’s thoughts returned to the matter of Stephan’s pirate raids. Had an arrest warrant been issued?

“Speak of the devil,” Brice muttered as he gestured toward the Pavilion.

Caroline looked up. Stephan was standing next to the prince, and both of them were smiling. She didn’t think she’d ever seen such a welcome sight in her life.

Ever.


As he eased theLadyaway from her slip Saturday morning, Stephan couldn’t remember a time that he’d felt so thoroughly frustrated. Quite truly, he should be ecstatic, given the turn his conversation with the prince had taken.

When he’d returned to the garden party yesterday, Tisdale had already claimed his spot beside Caroline. Even though Stephan had quickly joined them, he hadn’t been able to get a moment of private conversation with Caroline to tell her what had transpired with the prince. Not only did the earl and his daughter stay beside her, but for some reason, the duke and duchess had also decided to hover like birds watching over a lone chick. And then there was the American girl. Sarah Vincent had practically glued herself to Caroline. The whole entourage had surrounded her throughout the party and dinner and into the evening, when some idiot decided a game of charades was in order. Stephan hadn’t wanted to leave Eric alone on the boat the night before the regatta, so he’d had to excuse himself fairly early.

And he hadn’t gotten much sleep. Every time he’d drifted off, images of Caroline had come to him. Caroline naked on the same V-berth, her breasts fitting perfectly into his cupped hand, the soft, ivory mounds contrasting with the hardened, berry-red tips. The little mewling sounds she had made when he suckled those delicious buds. How her satiny-smooth skin had heated to his touch as he’d trailed his hand down her rib cage and across her belly. How the mewls had turned into low moans as his fingers explored the slick, wet folds of her womanhood, and lastly, the growling sounds she made—or maybe it had been him—when he’d finally driven his cock into her tight, hot sheath…