Page 20 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
She eased into her seat, her expression smooth and enigmatic.
Lady Carenford turned her attention back to her own table. She frowned as she espied the paper on her plate, then squinting, read the note.
Her face turned waxen. Her head whipped around as she looked around the shop, and as she did so,Celeste kept her gaze on Kieran and calmly sipped her tea.
A dark-haired woman in a neat apron approached Lady Carenford’s table, the server beside her. “I am Isabel Catton, my lady,” she announced evenly. “Vera tells me you wanted to speak with me. Something about the temperature of your tea, I believe.”
Lady Carenford fabricated a smile that stretched across her face, making her resemble a death’s-head. Her eyes were fever bright and her voice loud as she said, “Everything is fine. Absolutely nothing to complain about. You have my sincerest apologies for any inconvenience I may have caused. In fact...” She fumbled in her reticule until she produced a coin, which she held out to Vera. “This is for you. Such excellent service. Please take it, with my compliments.”
Vera reluctantly took the coin from Lady Carenford, and both she and Mrs. Catton looked on with bemusement as the lady lurched to her feet and hurried out the door. Her mystified companions trailed after her, though one of them grabbed a biscuit and tucked it into her reticule before leaving. Mrs. Catton shrugged and assisted Vera in clearing the table.
Kieran swung his attention back to Celeste, who appeared entirely unmoved by the bizarre spectacle that had just transpired.
“What the hell was in that note?” he demanded gleefully.
“I merely reminded Lady Carenford that if she did not immediately apologize to the server, Lord Carenford would be most interested in the fact that Maestro Olivari is doing far more than teaching herhow to sing. Given that Lady Carenford has yet to produce an heir, her husband would be rather displeased by this development.”
“Andhowdo you know this?”
Her smile was enigmatic. “Possessing a sterling reputation has its benefits, including the fact that I hear all of the latest gossip. Everyone thinks I’ll keep the secrets to myself, when in fact I’m simply storing information for a time when it can be advantageously deployed.”
Kieran had seen and done things in the course of his life that would make most decent people blanch, or perhaps cause them to envy him. Shocking him was not something that happened often.
Yet he could only gape at Celeste Kilburn, who looked as virtuous as always.
“My God,” he breathed, delighted to his marrow, “no one has any idea, do they? About who you truly are.”
“No idea at all,” she agreed placidly.
Mute, Kieran sat back in his seat, surrounded by London’s most esteemed women as they took their afternoon tea. He’d come to Catton’s today believing that Celeste was going to make a deal with the devil—namely, him. But, in fact, she was far more dangerous than he’d ever believed. If anyone needed protection, it washimfromher.
Chapter 5
Celeste’s gaze excitedly moved back and forth between the note on her dresser and her reflection in the mirror.
The brief letter had arrived earlier that evening, just after supper as she and her father had been in the parlor. Fortunately, Da had been too engrossed in the late edition newspaper to notice the footman bringing a missive to Celeste. She’d known what it was before even reading the masculine and slashing penmanship that had declared simply:Corner of Hans Street and Pavilion Road. Midnight.
There had been no signature, not even an initial, but there was no doubt who had sent the note.
Now, hands trembling with exhilaration, Celeste dabbed on the last of her cosmetics before examining her reflection in the mirror atop her dressing table. She turned her face from side to side, contemplating her handiwork.
“What do you think, Dolly?” she asked her maid, who stood behind her.
“Put the wig on, miss,” Dolly urged. “I’ll help.”
Celeste did as her maid suggested, tugging on the black wig so that it covered her own wild chestnut hair. Dolly fussed with the false tresses as she arranged them, then pinned the wig into place.
“Give your head a shake, miss.”
Celeste did so, and was pleased when the wig remained fixed to her head. “That should suffice. Am I adequately disguised?”
“Oh, miss, I’d hardly believe you were you.”
“Such is my intention.” After parting company with Kieran Ransome yesterday, she’d sent Dolly to the theatrical supply shop to purchase cosmetics and a suitable wig, and had spent the intervening hours between then and today practicing the application of both.
Looking at herself now, she couldn’t stop a surge of pride. At least the painting classes she’d been forced to take at finishing school had a genuine use now. Through careful shading, she’d narrowed her nose and made her mouth appear smaller and thinner. She had also created a false dip in her chin and lowered the angle of her cheekbones. With the black wig secured, she truly didn’t resemble herself.
If she did her job properly, no one tonight would recognize her. Would Kieran? A thrill skimmed down her spine, envisioning his response to her transformation.
