Page 16 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
Hopefully, today would set him on the right path toward remedying that situation.
Glancing around the pastry shop, he searched for one woman in particular. Occasionally, he caught the eye of a lady, who either stared at him in affronted surprise or else lowered her lashes in the timeless sign of a female who liked what she saw.
Celeste Kilburn’s surprising note had arrived yesterday afternoon stipulating that he was to meet her today at Catton’s. He’d truly believed after their discussion in the fitting room that the subject was closed. Yet in a neat and precise hand, she’d given him instructions to convene at this bakery. He’d smiled at the addendum at the bottom of her note:Dress like a respectable gentleman.
At last, he spotted her seated alone at a table, though her maid hovered nearby, chatting with another servant.
Something within his chest knocked against his ribs. Peculiar.
Yesterday had been the longest amount of time he’d been in Celeste Kilburn’s company. Certainly, he’d never stood in such close proximity to her. God knows he’d done far more outrageous things in his life besides have a chaste discussion with a woman in a fitting room, or meet her in broad daylight in a busy bakery. Seeing her across the room was, in truth, hardly noteworthy. And yet there went that thudding of his heart.
Celeste caught sight of Kieran, and while she didn’t precisely smile, her heavy-lidded hazel eyes brightened when she recognized him. She was already a striking person, with high cheekbones anda stubborn chin, but to witness how excitement made her light up from within transformed her into someone he couldn’t look away from.
Come to think of it, he’d never witnessed her exhilaration before. She often looked mildly disinterested, or her gaze was faraway, as though she had taken herself somewhere else... somewhere more interesting than the place she was at the moment.
Not so now. She appeared very much engaged in the present, and her gaze was keen as she watched him approach her table. She ran her hand across her brow, smoothing her reddish brown hair.
He paused in front of her, removing his hat and holding his arms at a slight angle as he presented himself for inspection. “Have I met your requirements? You said to come looking as much like a respectable gentleman as possible.”
Her gaze glided down him, from the top of his head, along his face, down his torso—lingering slightly at his groin—and then lower. Hewaswearing his most sedate garments, and not one of his favorite flamboyant waistcoats. For the love of Christ, he’d even shaved this morning.
Celeste’s perusal was thorough, as if she saw past all his temporary polish to the uncivilized man beneath.
The room was suddenly rather hot. He tugged at his neckcloth.
“It’s sufficient,” she allowed. “I needed to see whether or not you could, in fact,lookthe part of someone who’s respectable.”
He pulled out a chair and dropped into it as elation careened through him. “Then you’ll help me?”
“For a price.”
He frowned. This was not what he’d anticipated.
She clearly read his confusion, because she said, “You truly assumed I would assist you simply out of the munificence of my heart? Don’t answer that. I can see that’s precisely what you believed.”
“I thought ladies commonly practiced charity.”
“I’m not a lady,” she pointed out. “Certainly not by birth.”
“By action and public perception, however, you are certainly one. The work you do with sundry altruistic organizations is proof.”
“Which brings us to why, precisely, you’ve requested my aid.” She nodded as a server approached with a tray laden with a pot of tea, two cups, and a plate of miniature cakes. As the refreshments were laid out, Celeste remained silent, though her gaze shot to him when he chuckled.
“That’s a rueful sound,” she said when the server left.
“My domestication has already begun,” he noted. “When I have meals like this, there’s likely whisky in that teapot, and the cakes are baked into erotic shapes.”
She selected one tiny dome-shaped cake and set a glacé cherry atop it so that the confection resembled a woman’s breast. “That should make you feel more at ease. As for the spirits, I believe we can wring brandy out of the fruitcake.”
A startled laugh burst from him. Since she’d returned from finishing school, he’d found Celeste physically alluring, but never had he anticipated that she possessed a wicked wit. What a delightful development.
“Whatisyour price?” he asked, intrigued.
Briskly, she said, “I will gain you entry to all the best parties, and introduce you to the most respectable and marriage-minded women. In exchange...” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “In exchange,youmust take me to all the places where disreputable, scandalous people go.”
Stunned, he stared at her, the voices surrounding them fading away. She simply gazed back at him, unblinking, as if insisting that a known scoundrel accompany her to London’s most immoral venues was as ordinary as requesting another cup of tea.
He liked to believe that he had a certain facility with language. He loved the sounds of words, their shapes and textures, and their infinite variety. Yet now all he could do was stammer, “Youwantto go to such places?”
