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Her Dangerous Viscount (Rakes & Rebels, Book 7) by Cynthia Wright (29)


Cynthia Wright says: Adrienne Beauvisage, Natalya’s rebellious cousin, finds romance with a Raveneau hero in HIS RECKLESS BARGAIN! I hope you will enjoy this excerpt:


Excerpt from

His Reckless Bargain

Rakes & Rebels, Book 8

by Cynthia Wright



Chapter 1


March 1818

London, England


Holding a candlestick in one hand, Adrienne Beauvisage eased open the door to the Frakes-Hogg nursery. Little Ellie and Beth were sleeping peacefully in their beds as their governess tiptoed over for a closer look. Angelic pink cheeks, long lashes, and dark curls made them appear unscathed by their mother’s recent death.

As if sensing Adrienne’s presence, Beth opened her eyes and whispered, “I wish you could be our mummy now.”

How could she say that she despised their father and had stayed this long only because of the girls? “I couldn’t love you more if I were your mummy.”

“Good.” Smiling, she went back to sleep.

Adrienne’s heart ached as she tucked her in again, then returned to the corridor. Not a day passed that didn’t find her struggling anew with the problem of the insidious attentions paid to her by the girls’ father, Walter Frakes-Hogg.

Two years earlier, when Adrienne had completed her education at age eighteen, her parents had begged her to come home to the family chateau in France, but she’d insisted upon seeking employment and fulfilling her ambition to teach. Above all, Adrienne craved independence and she had no desire to enter London society, which she considered superficial.

After Walter Frakes-Hogg persuaded her to become the live-in governess to his tiny daughters, Adrienne had fallen in love with the girls instantly. Because their mother, Jane, was bedridden, she had tried to bring some warmth and cheer into the gloomy house. She was encouraged to feel like a member of the family, and to call her employers by their Christian names.

Now, making her way down the arched corridor lit only by her single candle, Adrienne was grateful that Walter was away tonight, paying a condolence call on his newly widowed sister-in-law. When had she first begun to have doubts about her employer? Although there had been unsettling moments before Jane’s death, she had been too busy to ponder his odd behavior. At times, she’d had the sensation that he was staring at her from across the room, but then he’d smile at her calmly and Adrienne would shake off the feeling.

Since Jane’s death, however, Walter had begun to make remarks that gave her chills. He hinted that she could be well taken care of if she considered his needs as well as those of the little girls, but his threats were always so subtly veiled that Adrienne questioned her own instincts.

Once, when she had been climbing a tree with Ellie and Beth, Walter had offered to help them down from the lowest branch. He caught the girls, then insisted that Adrienne fall into his arms—and when she did, he slid his hand under her skirts. His scent, a mixture of sandalwood and strong spirits, caused her stomach to lurch.

Finally, there had been the night she awoke from a deep sleep to the sound of her doorknob softly rattling. If she hadn’t taken the precaution of bolting her door, who knew what might have happened? Yet, in the daylight, Adrienne wondered if it had been a nightmare.

Many an hour she daydreamed about going home to France and the love of her family, or joining London society with her friends from Mrs. Harrington’s Seminary for the Daughters of Gentlemen. Anything would be preferable to this gloomy place. Adrienne might be unconventional, but she wasn’t a recluse. If only there were a solution for Ellie and Beth…

Her bedchamber, though spacious, was dark, cold, and lonely. Adrienne used her candle to light oil lamps on the bureau, then turned toward the bed and nearly screamed aloud.

“Good evening, my dear.”

Walter Frakes-Hogg was sitting in a hard chair next to her bed, his coat lying near her pillow. The lamplight played eerily over his long face and tall, spare frame. Though only middle aged, he had prematurely white hair, and drink had reddened the ends of his ears and nose.

Her heart was hammering, but she strove for composure. It wouldn’t do to let him sense her terror. “I must ask you not to enter my rooms uninvited, sir. If you like, I will speak to you in the sitting room….”

“No. I like it here, and I make the rules. Had you forgotten?” He drank from a glass on the bedside table and loosened his cravat.

She hated the way he could smile and be evil at the same time. “Why have you come home from Mrs. Halper’s, sir?”

“My sister-in-law means to move into the house with us, to take care of the girls.”

“But that’s wonderful news! I think highly of Mrs. Halper, and she will be able to give them so much that was lost when their mother died.”

“I don’t want her here. I’d rather have just you.” His dark eyes glittered. “But she hasn’t any money, no place else to go. I came home early to think of a way to foil her plan.”

Adrienne felt dizzy with fear as she noticed that Walter’s speech was impaired by drink. Should she run from the room? “Sir, you really must consider the needs of the children. You’re away a great deal, and they need the love of their aunt.”

“We’d rather have your love.” He got to his feet and advanced toward her. “I’m certain we can discuss arrangements…hmm?” Bleary-eyed, Walter looked her up and down. He began to unfasten his shirt, muttering, “Wouldn’t you like that?”

Before she could run for the door, he had captured her wrist and was drawing her into his arms. Adrienne realized that there was only one way to ensure her escape. She returned his feral smile. “You are so commanding, sir.”

“Ah, charming, charming.” Boldly, he put a hand on her breast. “We must get rid of these missish gowns you favor, find something more revealing. You certainly have the shape for it.”

Bile rose in Adrienne’s throat. “No man has ever made me feel attractive until now.”

“I can teach you things you never imagined.”

“Oh, sir, I—I feel faint.” She backed away from his looming mouth. “Can we sit down on the bed?”

“By all means, my dear girl! That’s passion, going to your head. Come to think of it, I feel a bit lightheaded myself. Perhaps we ought to rest together….”

Adrienne watched him lie back. When his shirt fell open, she saw a strawberry birthmark in the middle of his bony white chest. There was a bulge in his trousers, and he was breathing hard. “Sir?”

“Yes, my beauty?”

She sat down beside him. “I feel so shy. Will you close your eyes and let me practice kissing you the first time?”

Walter squeezed his groin with one hand and put the other back on her breast. “Christ, you’re so young and firm. I can’t stand it—”

“Close your eyes, sir,” she whispered coquettishly. When he obeyed, Adrienne reached under her pillow for the dagger that she had placed there the night he’d tried to come into her room. Now, trembling inside, she pushed it against his flabby throat. “I despise you! You have tried to use power to have your way with me, and I hate you for it. Now get up.”

Disbelief and rage clashed in his eyes. “Little strumpet! Give me that thing before I turn it back on you.”

“If you try, I’ll kill you. I would have no regrets.”

“Don’t be stupid. If you do this, I’ll make you pay!”

“There are ways I could make you pay if you threaten me. Couldn’t I ruin your reputation if I chose? Now get up. Put your hands in the air. Higher!” Adrienne moved the knifepoint to the middle of his back and poked it in far enough to draw blood. “You know, I wish I could kill you. Your daughters would be happier without you.”

Something in her tone seemed to give Walter Frakes-Hogg pause. He let her force him into the tiny dressing room, then listened as she locked the door.

“You are going to be exceedingly sorry!” he yelled.

“Save your breath. You’ll never see me again!” As she spoke, Adrienne dragged a satchel out from under her bed. It had been packed and ready, just in case, since the day she’d hidden the dagger under her pillow. Thank God for her darkest suspicions! Now she stepped out of the room, locked the door, and fled down the shadowy corridor. She would take the girls with her in a hackney, drop them at Mrs. Halper’s, and trust her to look after them.

For her own part, Adrienne knew that she must conceal her whereabouts from Walter Frakes-Hogg. He was capable of all manner of revenge, for she had thoroughly humiliated him.

As she got little Ellie and Beth out of their beds and prayed that Walter wouldn’t break free and kill them all, Adrienne realized that she’d give anything to have her papa come to her rescue.

* * *

Less than a fortnight later, Adrienne had her wish.

“Won’t you have a whiskey, Papa?” She paused hopefully beside the cellaret in the corner of her father’s sitting room. Nicholai Beauvisage was occupying an elegant suite in the St. James Royal Hotel, but after a fortnight away from his French chateau and Lisette, his beautiful wife of twenty-five years, he was unappreciative of his surroundings. He wanted to leave London—and take his daughter with him.

“I don’t want a whiskey. I’ll tell you what I do want—”

“You are frightfully edgy!” she interrupted quickly. “Perhaps a drink would settle your nerves.”

“I don’t need whiskey to settle my nerves,” Nicholai replied with a dark stare. “What I need is obedience and respect from my wayward offspring!”

She blinked. “I detest the word ‘obedience.’ While I was at school, Mrs. Harrington insisted that I must have been born with a rebellious streak, since I could not respond to her efforts to subdue my spirit.”

“I suppose you mean to turn your behavior back on me somehow!” He watched his daughter laugh and tried not to betray the softening of his heart. Adrienne was magical—an effervescent mixture of beauty, keen wits, blind courage, and sheer charm. Who could resist the sight of her, with her chestnut curls caught up in a soft Grecian knot, her thick-lashed green eyes sparkling with mischief, and her dimples setting off a flawless, creamy complexion? If she could cultivate manners to match her appearance, eligible men would clamor for her hand in marriage, and then someone else could worry about her safety.

“I recognize that wistful expression, Papa,” Adrienne said more gently. Joining him on the Sheraton settee, she patted his hand. “I know that you still hope to convince me to return to France with you—”

“When you wrote to us last month, you didn’t seem to need convincing. If you’re in danger here in London, why have you changed your mind?”

“It was just a passing mood. I’m feeling much braver now, and I know that a quiet existence at Chateau du Soleil wouldn’t make me happy. Nor am I suited to marriage, so you may as well cease gazing off into space and dreaming that I will be transformed into a proper member of London society.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “We’ve had this same conversation every day since you came to London to take me home. Just because I am finished with school does not mean that I must either marry or live with you and Maman in France!”

“You are aging me decades each day,” Nicholai lamented.

“Why can’t you trust me to manage my own life?”

“Perhaps because you have gotten into one scrape after another ever since you were old enough to walk!”

“If you are referring again to that silly adventure I had when I ran away from Miss Harrington’s school, please do not.” Adrienne’s cheeks were pink as the past returned, unbidden. It was embarrassing to think that she and her friend Venetia Hedgecoe could have foolishly fallen in with a woman like Mrs. Sykes, who took them in and promised to introduce them to London society. However, the lavish parties she’d taken them to had been filled with debauched men who had plotted to steal the girls’ innocence. Mrs. Sykes had been searching for “suitors” for Adrienne who would pay for her lascivious brand of matchmaking.

“By the look on your face, my dear, I surmise that I still do not know the true extent of your imbroglio.” Even four years later, Nicholai’s torment was fresh.

“I escaped unscathed and I’ve grown up tremendously since then, Papa. I would never do anything so foolish now, but I did learn some important lessons, especially about men. They can be charming, attentive, and cultured, but in the end they try to use their male dominance to achieve their selfish ends. I would rather take care of myself than trust a man.”

Frustrated, Nicholai said, “When I hear you talk this way, I only worry more.”

“I am nearly twenty-one, Papa: a grown woman.” Stubbornly Adrienne continued, “I have supported myself since school as a governess, and although that situation ended badly I do not intend to surrender and retreat from a life of self-sufficiency. You insisted that I receive a proper education, and I am grateful. I can make my own way in the world.”

Nicholai’s face grew stormy as he thought of the villainous Walter Frakes-Hogg. Adrienne’s letter had only hinted that he had made unwanted advances toward her and that she had made him angry when she fled, taking his daughters to the home of his sister-in-law. What hadn’t she told him?

“But what of Frakes-Hogg?” Nicholai said in low tones. “Has he not threatened you?”

She glanced away. “I was a little afraid when I wrote to you, but I have since realized that Walter is a coward. I am not afraid of him, but he is afraid of me—and the damage I could do his reputation!”

“For God’s sake, Adrienne!”

“Never mind.” Her pretty chin set in a hard line. “I have decided to accept another post. I will be able to leave London and Walter will have no idea where I’ve gone. There’s no need to worry from this moment forward.”

“What’s this all about?”

“I have been offered a wonderful position as a companion to Lady Thomasina Harms, the ancient widowed mother of that exceedingly handsome dandy, Huntsford Harms.” She gave Nicholai a grin. “Perhaps he will fall madly in love with me at first sight, propose, and take me off your hands, Papa!” Noting that he was not amused by this sally, Adrienne hastened to add, “I’m only teasing. Lady Harms has informed me that, should I accept her offer of employment, we will depart immediately for her grand estate in Hampshire, where we shall languish for weeks—”

“I thought you’d be dead bored by such a routine,” he put in.

“This is different. I will be paid for my boredom, thus maintaining my independence. And Harms Castle has one of the most extensive libraries in all of England! I shall immerse myself in the role of scholar.”

It all sounded utterly mad to Nicholai. “What about this fellow Huntsford Harms? If he is there, and his mother is a decrepit widow, you’ll find yourself in a compromising position again, my dear.”

“I was only teasing, Papa. Huntsford Harms will doubtless be ensconced for the entire Season in her ladyship’s house in Cavendish Square, thrilled to death to have his mother out of the way so that he can indulge himself in peace. You know how self-absorbed the nobility are.” Adrienne waved a hand airily.

He blinked, waiting.

“In any event, I can take care of myself. Haven’t I proven that yet?” She jumped up and stood before the pier glass, smoothing her blue spencer and white muslin skirts. “Now I must go, Papa. I have an appointment with Lady Harms to deliver my decision to become her companion after all. She’ll be delighted!”

He put a large sum of money into her reticule. “Indulge me, won’t you? Buy yourself some new gowns.”

“If it will make you feel better, Papa. Thank you!”

Adrienne was tying the ribbons of her chipstraw bonnet when a knock sounded at the door. In the hallway, a footman delivered an envelope with her name on it, and Nicholai watched as his daughter broke the seal.

“Rather odd, isn’t it?” he said. “Who would know that you are here?”

Her eyes moved rapidly over the paper, then she laughed with false gaiety and tore it into pieces. “Oh, Papa, it’s nothing. People in London are very odd. They love to send mysterious messages to amuse themselves, but it’s just a game.” With that, Adrienne tossed the bits of paper into the bottom of her father’s fireplace, then sought to distract him with an embrace. “Do stop worrying about me and begin packing for your journey home to Mother. She needs you far more than I do!”

Nicholai stood at the window, watching until she had emerged from the hotel onto St. James and climbed gracefully into a hack. When it started off into the crush of vehicles, Nicholai crouched in front of the sitting room fireplace and picked up the pieces of his daughter’s note. Several minutes later he had fit the tiny squares together and read:


Lock your doors, strumpet!

I mean to make you pay, and you know how!

* * *

Oxford Street was jammed with the vehicles of well-to-do patrons who, attended by servants, were fluttering among the shops.

From her open hack, Adrienne found herself staring at window displays of linen-drapers, haberdashers, silversmiths, and silk mercers. She cared little about fashion but adored objects of real beauty, and at that moment, she was desperate for a distraction. Adrienne felt as if her problems—the vengeful Walter Frakes-Hogg, her father’s displeasure, and the impending interview with Lady Thomasina Harms—were coiling about her like a python.

She shivered at the thought, “A python!” she murmured. “How hideous!”

Deliverance intervened. Her eye was drawn to a tasteful display in the window of E. Ralna, Fanmaker, where Adrienne beheld a true work of art. The fan was an exquisite concoction of ivory, embroidered silk, and lace. One glimpse in passing was not enough.

“Coachman!” she called, leaning out the window in a most indelicate fashion. “I must go into the fanmaker’s—there!—this instant!”

The fellow assumed that a crisis was in the offing and yelled to the phaeton that was approaching on the left, between his hack and the raised flagstone walkway. When Adrienne’s coachman attempted to cut off the phaeton, its raven-haired driver would not give way, and the confused horses reared back, whinnying in confusion.

“Are you trying to cause an accident?” the dark-haired man shouted angrily. “Get out of my way!”

“My mistress desires to reach that shop!”

“And why should that piece of news interest me?”

Adrienne, perceiving the problem, interceded. “You there, coachman!” she addressed the phaeton driver. For emphasis, she leaned farther out, so he would be sure to see her, and pointed her delicate parasol at him. “Do be a good fellow and let us over, won’t you?”

One of his eyebrows flew up, then he gave a harsh laugh. “You have a very high opinion of yourself, miss, which I do not happen to share. This road is not your possession!”

Outraged by his rudeness, Adrienne shocked her own driver by jumping out of the hack and pushing her way through the crush to reach the side of the phaeton. Still pointing the parasol, she stared up at the scoundrel, her cheeks hot with color.

“You, sir, are horrid! Has no one ever taught you to show respect for ladies?” She didn’t like the sound of her own voice, or the things she was saying, but he’d pushed her past reason.

“Is there a lady present?” He caught her parasol and pulled it from her hand. “Stop aiming that weapon at me.”

In spite of her mounting temper, Adrienne noticed the driver’s compelling sea-blue eyes and the crisp, expertly tied cravat that set off a deeply tanned visage. It was even more maddening to perceive the laughter that lurked just behind his reprimand. Was he really a common coachman?

“I do not wish to waste another moment of my time with the likes of you, sir.” Adrienne tried to salvage the scraps of her dignity. Head high, she turned and walked coolly to the fanmaker’s window.

Eugene Ralna himself came scurrying out to greet her. Spectacles bobbed on his long, thin nose. “Ah, it’s young Lady Adrienne, is it not? I still remember the day last autumn when you accompanied your mother to my humble establishment. How may I serve you? Have you come to choose a fan on her behalf?”

Hoping that the odious man in the phaeton was watching, Adrienne let the fanmaker fawn over her. “I have business of my own, Mr. Ralna. In passing, I could not help admiring this exquisite creation in your window.”

“Ah! You have flawless taste, just like your mother!” He smiled broadly. “That fan is made with the rarest ivory, fifteenth-century embroidered silk, and priceless Arles lace. Rumor has it that Marie Antoinette herself commissioned it after receiving the silk as a gift.” Ralna paused, allowing his words to sink in, then murmured, “Shall we step inside for a closer look?”

“Why, the fan is part of history!” Wide-eyed, Adrienne had turned to follow the elderly man, when she was distracted by a tap on her shoulder. A backward glance revealed the phaeton driver’s face, and she found that the sight of him made her furious. “Leave me alone,” she hissed.

“Don’t tell me that you made all that fuss, disrupted traffic, and endangered my horses over a bloody fan?” came his acid reply.

Adrienne refused to look back. “A brute like you would not understand. Do not speak to me again.”

She had progressed several steps and was about to precede Eugene Ralna into the shop when the voice she despised called out, “Did you intend to make a gift to me of your parasol?”

Whirling, Adrienne met his mocking eyes and watched as he held out her parasol. The frilly thing looked ridiculous in his male hand. Did he mean for her to walk over and retrieve it? An instant later the parasol came sailing through the air toward her, and somehow she reached out and caught it. Her tormentor laughed, then bowed low.

“Don’t let me keep you from your urgently important fan inspection,” he taunted, and returned to his high-perch phaeton.

Adrienne hurried past Eugene Ralna, into the safety of his shop. Meanwhile, outside on sunlit Oxford Street, two young women were tittering as they stood, with a lady’s maid, in front of the haberdasher’s shop and discussed the impertinent rake who had caused Adrienne Beauvisage to blush to the roots of her chestnut hair.

“Isn’t that Nathan Raveneau?” the first girl whispered.

“Definitely,” her friend agreed. “I have heard the most outrageous stories about him from my sister and her friends. Since he returned from the West Indies, he’s been setting London society on its ear!”

Not to be outdone, the first girl pronounced, “My cousin told me that everyone has taken to calling him the ‘Scapegrace’!” Just then Nathan Raveneau seemed to sense their scrutiny and turned his head to stare at the two gossiping girls. They went pale, then pink, and scampered away like frightened bunnies.



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