Free The Rake by Georgeanne Hayes Page A

bolted it behind
her.
    Still weak and shaken from her experience,
her body urged her to collapse on the bed, but nerves and fury
drove her to pace back and forth instead. Finally, she moved to her
dressing table. The tear in her bodice was not too noticeable and,
perhaps, they’d overlooked it. On the other hand, her gown was as
crumpled as if she’d slept in it. Her bonnet was askew, and her
hair was tangled and falling down all about her head. As she
suspected, her cheeks were red from the abrasion of Flemming’s
whiskers as he’d gnawed her face.
    Shuddering at the realization that she could
smell him on her skin, she went to the wash stand and washed her
mouth out, then scrubbed her face and hands with soap. A tentative
knock sounded at her door while she was in the process of washing.
She lifted her head. “Who is it?”
    “ It’s me, Miss.
Sarah.”
    Grabbing a hand towel, Demi moved toward the
door. “Are you alone?” she asked cautiously before she unbolted the
door.
    “ Yes, Miss.”
    Demi put her ear to the door, but could
discern no sound that might indicate otherwise. Finally, she
unbolted the door, grasped Sarah’s wrist and snatched her inside.
She bolted the door again before she turned to her maid. “Help me
undress, please.”
    Sarah looked her over anxiously, but forbore
comment, merely nodding and reaching for the closure at the back of
the gown.
    When she’d stripped down to her pantalets
and corset, she ordered Sarah to take the clothing out and burn it.
“I don’t ever want to see it again.”
    Sarah gathered the clothing into a ball,
studying Demi worriedly. “Is it true then? The Reverend ravished
you?”
    Demi stared at her, feeling
blood surge up her neck and flood her face. “ No ! It is not true! Although he most
certainly had it in mind.”
    Sarah looked relieved but
still troubled. “There’s bound to be a horrible scandal. They’re
sayin’ downstairs that you should never have accepted his proposal
in the first place if you didn’t want to marry him, that
you’ll have to
marry him now, an’ the sooner the better--before your belly starts
a swellin’.”

Chapter Six
    So much for the clever story she’d cooked
up, Demi thought morosely, but then she’d known no one would
believe it when there was a much more scandalous possibility they
might consider.
    When Sarah had left, she’d bolted the door
again and pulled a nightgown out to wear. She supposed she really
ought to go back downstairs and try to brazen it out, but she
simply was not up to it at the moment.
    She’d been far more angered and revolted by
Flemming’s amorous designs than she had been frightened, but the
entire incident had been more than a little unsettling. She
doubted, in any case, that going downstairs would do anything more
than prevent them from talking about her behind her back. They were
just as likely to pump her for the gory details as they were to
refrain from discussing it because she was present.
    In any case, she had not heard any carriages
leave and she thought Flemming might still be downstairs. Of a
certainty, the others were.
    She didn’t think she could face Lord
Wyndham.
    In truth, whatever occurred between her and
her fiancé was no one else’s business, but she’d comported herself
with a complete lack of restraint with Lord Wyndham only the night
before. And now she’d arrived home with every appearance of having
done the same, or worse.
    He must think that she was no more than a
trollop.
    She felt as if she’d betrayed him with
Flemming rather than the other way around. It didn’t matter that
she had it backwards. That was the way she felt.
    When a tap came at her door again, she
nearly jumped out of her skin. “Who is it?”
    “ Sarah.”
    She moved to the door, listened for a moment
and finally opened it. Sarah rushed inside, balancing a tray.
Bolting the door, Demi surveyed the offering without enthusiasm.
“I’m not hungry.”
    Ignoring her, Sarah moved to a table