Saved by a Rake by Em Taylor

but feel, reluctantly.
    He took one of her stray curls and wound it gently around his fingers.
    “ That was a very nice kiss,” he said, his voice sounding low and gruff.
    “ Yes, it was.” She wanted to suggest they did it again, but that would make her sound fast.
    “ I should get you back into the ballroom before we are missed.”
    “ Thank you, Daniel.”
    He grinned.
    “My beautiful Rebecca, this is but a foretaste. But make no mistake, we will not consummate our marriage until you want it too.”
    She bit her lip and moved out of the shadows. She was definitely going to have to lie. A kiss was one thing , but the bedding was quite another.
     
     

Chapter Eleven
    “ Oh Lady Rebecca. Wait till you hear. That man who was going to ask for your hand—that earl—he were found dead this morning. The milk maid told us when she come into the kitchen this morning.”
    That was the news that Rebecca awoke to on her wedding day.
    “You mean the Earl of Newthorpe?” Her heart lurched.
    “ That’s him?”
    “ H-h-how did he die?”
    “ I do not know. She did not give us any more information than that he is dead.” With that, the maid walked into her dressing room.
    Rebecca sat in bed, her cup of tea warming her hands as she absorbed the information. She did not know how to feel. Relief? Sorrow? —he was a young man after all.
    Avenged? She had no idea how he had died , but perhaps it was divine justice. She looked down at her flat belly and smiled. Her courses had come ten days ago, so at least she was not carrying his bastard within her.
    A chill ran down her spine , making her shudder, but she pushed the whole sorry mess out of her mind. It was her wedding day and she was going to have a wonderful time—at least until this evening when Daniel would bed her.
    Agnes came bustling back in, Rebecca ’s white muslin and lace wedding dress draped over her arms and laid it gently over a chair. She returned for her new chemise, stays and petticoat. Rebecca scrambled out of bed and walked over to the ewer and washbowl. She quickly completed her ablutions as Agnes arrived in the bedroom with a set of stockings and a beautiful pair of white slippers encrusted with small clear jewels. Her stomach turned over with excitement.
    She had not kissed Lord Ramsey since the night of their engagement ball, for they had not been alone together. The memory of that night still sent a thrill through her. His warm, wet lips coaxing hers apart, his tongue rasping slowly along hers and his hand solid but unthreatening at her waist.
    She anticipated his kiss at the wedding ceremony and would kiss him back with glee. With luck, it would stave off the inevitable bedding for a while. Maybe if she encouraged him to drink enough brandy, he would fall asleep.
    Agnes helped her dress then sat her down in front of the mirror to fix her coiffure. She toyed with the delicate gold ribbons around her neckline, which also ran in an x-shape between her bosoms then underneath them. They accentuated her décolletage perfectly, but she wondered if she should have convinced Mama to allow her to wear a fischu. Surely that would just encourage Lord Ramsey in his attentions towards her.
    She sighed miserably at the thought of her wonderful, handsome Daniel rutting on top of her the way Newthorpe had. She would have to close her eyes, or ensure that the candles were snuffed out before she allowed him near her. Then she would be able to separate the man in her bed and Daniel, her husband.
    The memory of Newthorpe reminded her of the news she had received that morning. What could have happened to the earl? Had he died of natural causes? He had not seemed to be ill and he had certainly been strong enough when he had ravished her.
    Perhaps he had been murdered, but apart from a few members of her family, she could think of no one who would wish the man dead. Except for her family. Rebecca watched her own eyes widen in the mirror and as she reached a hand to her