Too Hot For A Rake by Pearl Wolf Page A

a sly once-over. “And who might your mistress be, may I ask?”
    “Lady Fairchild, from London, she is.”
    The landlord nodded. “All’s ready, then. Been expecting her la’ship.” He bowed to Helena, noting with approval her elegant traveling costume, a cloak of rich, green velvet and a matching plumed hat. “Welcome, milady. His grace always stays here during hunting season. His grace sent word ahead and that’s a fact. Your chambers are ready.”
    Waverley strode to Helena’s side. “Evening, ma’am. I’ll join you for dinner in one hour.” Without waiting for an answer, he bowed and entered the inn, nodding to the innkeeper as he passed.
    “Milady,” asked the landlord, “shall I send a tub and hot water up for you?”
    “Thank you, sir. Please do.”
    An hour later, after Amy helped her bathe and change, Helena sat by the fire in the private dining parlor, staring at the flames. “Go down to the taproom for your own dinner, Amy, and see to it that Casper is fed as well.”
    “I thought to remain here to serve you, milady.”
    “There are waiters for that task. I won’t need you again until bedtime.”
    “Yes, milady.” Amy walked to the door, but with reluctance.
    Helena sighed, understanding that she had done something to upset the young woman. “What is it, Amy?”
    “But who will watch over you? That man—Lord Waverley, I mean—told the innkeeper he would take his dinner with you.”
    “I shall be quite safe, I assure you. I’ll send for you if I need your help.”
    Amy chewed on her lip.
    “Off with you, Amy,” said Helena gently but firmly.
    Amy gave in at last, but she bowed herself out with the utmost reluctance.
    She brushed past a maid who proceeded to lay the table. The waiter followed, carrying a tray heavily laden with covered dishes.
    Helena’s eyes widened at the sight. “There must be some mistake. My abigail could not possibly have ordered all this food for me. There’s enough here for an army.”
    The waiter looked up from his task in surprise. “Oh no, milady, ‘twas milord done the ordering.”
    “I see.” Panic washed over her at the thought of having to dine with Waverley. She glanced frantically around the room, looking for a way out, ready to bolt. Only the one door and a window too small for escape kept her glued to her seat.
    When the door swung open, Lord Waverley entered the dining room and made an elegant leg. He wore gleaming Hessian boots, fawn buckskin breeches, the kind that most men favored when traveling, a white linen shirt with an elaborately tied neck cloth and a blue superfine jacket over a yellow silk vest.
    “You look startled to see me, ma’am,” he drawled. “Did you not expect me?”
    “Of course I expected you. I had little choice in the matter. It’s just…your elegance has taken me by surprise.”
    “My valet will be pleased at the compliment, ma’am.” He turned to the waiter, who remained at the sideboard. “You may go. We’ll help ourselves.”
    Helena felt trapped. She wanted the waiter to remain, but she dared not say so without looking foolish. “I wasn’t aware that you had a valet.”
    Desmond looked amused. “I sent him on ahead in my coach this morning. He’s not used to riding a horse, you see.” He checked his grin, wondering what her reaction would be when she met his unusual valet.
    She changed the subject. “How is it you offered to be my escort?”
    “You wrong me, ma’am. I did no such thing.”
    “Indeed? Then what is the right of it, may I ask?”
    “Did you believe it was my own choice? You seem to have forgotten you are the daughter of a powerful duke. Frankly, I thought it was you who had requested my services, especially after that night….”
    Her cheeks grew hot. “Don’t you dare bring up that night. If you are the gentleman you appear to be, I beg you to put it out of your mind.”
    “I might have put it out of my mind….” He paused to examine his nails. When he looked up, his eyes