Page 22 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
Most of the windows that fronted the street were dark, though here and there some illumination spilled out from between curtains. She longed to stop and peer through the windows to see precisely what the people within the homes were doing. But she had to meet Kieran at midnight, and if she was late, no doubt he’d simply leave without her. He was that sort of man.
A man she was going to be alone with tonight. Her already choppy breath grew even more erratic. Since she’d first come out, there had been a handful of moments that she had been briefly unaccompanied with prospective suitors, which included Lord Montford. A minute on a darkened balcony talking of the weather was hardly the same as spending the entire evening with one man, however, especially a man who was a dreadfully handsome, thoroughgoing rogue.
Her already thrumming pulse sped up even more. How ridiculous to feel any kind of excitement about being with Kieran. He’d been quite plain in stating his lack of intentions—dishonorable or otherwise—toward her. Most likely, he thought of her as though she were his sister.
Though... the way he’d eaten that naughty bosom-like cake at Catton’s... and the look he’d given her as he’d done so...
Impossible. He probably flirted the way other men took snuff. Purely habit, and nothing more.
She shook her head at herself. Here she was, about to embark on her first real wicked adventure,and she was spending far too much time mooning over Kieran Ransome. She ought to take advantage of this rare opportunity and simply absorb what it meant to finally be out of her house as midnight approached.
Freedom, true freedom. For the first time since her father had made his fortune, Celeste could do whatever she pleased. Where to begin? There were so many options—almost too many. But she’d embrace all possibilities because, for now, she was beholden to no one.
A stunned, giddy laugh broke from her lips. Dolly shot her a wry look of understanding.
They passed few people, and those they did were either too intoxicated or too intent on reaching their own destinations to pay Celeste and Dolly any mind. Fortunately, the streets were free of watchmen, which might have alarmed her if it wasn’t so convenient for her purposes.
Up ahead was the intersection of Hans Street and Pavilion Road. A cab waited beside a lamp, with a black-haired man in a rather elaborately embroidered coat and waistcoat leaning against it. His long, lean form was unmistakable, even at this distance. Once more her heartbeat sped up.
“That Mr. Ransome is a wicked-looking one, to be sure,” Dolly murmured beside her.
“And yet you gladly accepted his bribe so he could await me in the fitting area at Madame Jacqueline’s.”
Her maid winked. “He’s wicked in the very best ways, and in any event, I knew he’d behave himself or else Mr. Dominic would have words with him—at the least.”
It was slightly comforting that Celeste’s brother was so protective of her. Yet even the most protective instincts were smothering if they were applied with too forceful a hand.
Pushing back her hood, she approached Kieran. He glanced in her direction, and then his head whipped back to her as he looked again. A slow smile spread across his face as his gaze touched on the glimpses of skin and brightly hued satin that appeared from beneath her cloak. There was no mistaking the carnal interest in his dark eyes. Something hot and alive kindled to life in her belly. She’d had men look at her with admiration before, but never with such sexual energy.
Kieran Ransome all but radiated with erotic possibility.
“A fine night, beauty,” he murmured to her, his voice rich as wine. “Finer now that you’ve arrived.”
Dear God. He didn’t recognize her.
“What do you propose we do on such a fine night?” she asked, pitching her own voice lower and employing a hint of her old accent.
His smile turned devilish. “We’ll compose verses and then whoever fashions the better poem is at liberty to claim the prize of their desiring.”
“Are you a poet, sirrah?” She could hardly believe she was trading outrageous badinage with Kieran Ransome. If it was a dream, it was the very best one she’d ever had, and she prayed she didn’t wake soon.
“When the muse is kind, I can be most inspired.” He took a step toward her, then froze, his smile vanishing. “Good Christ.Celeste?”
“It seems my disguise is effective.” She tried for her own saucy grin, but the horror on his face undercut her effort.
He dug the heel of his palm into his eye. “Do not, under any circumstances, tell Dom about what I just said to you.”
“The poetry bit? Or the part where you were propositioning me? Incidentally,areyou a poet?”
“Don’t tell himanything,” Kieran said through gritted teeth. He reached out to flip back the front of her cloak, and, once she was revealed, his gaze ran down the length of her. It was the least gentlemanly perusal she had yet experienced in the whole of her life. Everywhere his regard touched, she went hot and sensitized.
Yet... his expression verged on angry.
“It doesn’t please you?” she asked.
“Not a bit.” His jaw tightened as he tugged the cloak back into place.
“I haven’t got anything else to wear.” She fought against dejection. “Nothing suitably disreputable.”
