Marguerite Kaye - Date with a Regency Rake

‘You can see now, Lieutenant, why I had no time for fishing last night. I was rather more agreeably occupied with this particular little piece of bait.’ A rather unnecessary pat on her bottom made Clarrie start.

‘Please, Kit, not in front of the gentleman. You can see he’s embarrassed.’ Indeed, the Lieutenant was playing with the collar of his coat as if suddenly finding it too tight. ‘I’m so sorry, Lieutenant—as you can see, I’m having a little difficulty in taming his lordship here. What he needs is his bed.’ This accompanied by a wink, which made even Kit raise an eyebrow.

‘I—well, I—yes. Excuse me, Lord Rasenby, it would seem that once again I was misinformed. Please accept my apologies, ma’am, for disturbing you—I mean, for disturbing your …’

‘My rest, I think you mean,’ Clarrie said with a saucy smile.

‘Yes. Your rest, ma’am. Of course.’

‘Lieutenant?’

‘My lord?’

‘A word, if you please, before you go. I would ask you to keep this encounter to yourself for all of our sakes. The lady, you understand, belongs to another, and it would grieve him greatly should he find out about this night’s fishing trip.’

Realisation dawned in the officer’s eyes, and they widened at the temerity of the man standing shameless in front of him. Lord Rasenby’s reputation was well known to those hereabouts, of course, but never before had Lieutenant Smith been faced with such blatant evidence of his raking. And she so young and pretty too! Nodding wisely in an attempt to pass off the encounter as he was sure a man of the world would do, Lieutenant Smith thrust the proffered note away in confusion. ‘My discretion does not need to be bought, Lord Rasenby. I am a man of honour. You can accept my word that I will not discuss this encounter.’

Kit’s brows rose in surprise. ‘You are a credit to your uniform, sir, and I honour you for it. And in return, I’ll tell you something to your advantage.’

‘Sir?’

‘It will perhaps relieve you to know that my night-fishing trips are at an end. You may wish to share that knowledge with the Marquis of Alchester, your informant.’ Raising his hand to forestall the confused denial, Kit continued. ‘I have been aware for some time that he has been keeping you apprised of my movements. Rest assured, I will be taking the matter up with Alchester personally. But for now, I trust, you take my meaning? The Sea Wolf will not be going fishing again.’

‘I thank you, sir. I take your meaning well. Now I must bid you good morning.” A blushing nod to Clarissa, and the lieutenant was gone, over the side to the waiting dinghy, and back to his cutter.

He was barely back on board before Clarrie turned, exultant and bursting with excitement, towards Kit. ‘Oh, Kit, I can’t tell you, my heart was thumping fit to burst. Just for a moment there I thought he—’

Kit cut short her excited torrent of words with an imperious wave of his hand. ‘You were told to remain below. Can I not trust you to follow even the simplest of instructions? I would have found a way to deal with Lieutenant Smith. John, make haste for the quay. We are long overdue. Clarissa, go below and make sure the Renauds are prepared to disembark.’

Curtly dismissed, Clarissa stumbled below, blinking back the tears. Kit turned to take the wheel, confused at his own sudden temper.

‘Don’t you think you’re being a mite hard on the girl, my lord?’ John asked gravely. ‘She got us out of a pretty pickle there and no mistake.’

‘I know, John, I know. Your point is well made.’ She had saved them all from a perilous situation with her quick thinking, cool head and bravery. So why, then, was he so angry with her?

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