Page 27 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
“Love’s a complicated thing,” she said. “It seldom exists in its purest form.”
He was quiet for a moment, studying her. Shewasfar more than a sheltered miss.
“Being here now is what you want, correct?” he asked gently. “If it isn’t, say the word, and we’ll depart immediately. But the choice belongs to you.”
“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “I’m . . . not used to having my wishes taken into consideration.”
Damn her family—Dom included.
“To hell with everyone else,” he said. “Live for yourself. Be whoyouwant to be.”
She nodded, then straightened her shoulders and raised her chin as she did so. “To the gaming tables,” she announced.
Painting was not one of his skills—he was far more adept with quills than brushes—but he possessed a keen eye for both the beautiful and the captivating. As Celeste rallied herself, finding that inner core of strength and adventure, she transformed far more than she had with the cosmetics she’d applied earlier. Resolve shone in her eyes, and an appetite for the world’s experiences. She looked like a woman on the verge of transformation, a phoenix that would emerge even more magnificent from its own flames.
He’d been attracted to her when he’d made that horrendous error earlier, believing her to be someone else. But this Celeste, the true Celeste, snared his attention and refused to let him go.
“Where to begin,” she said, surveying the room. “There’s faro, and vingt-et-un. Or maybe I should try hazard.”
“You can play any of those games. But before you do, I direct your attention to the people surrounding the tables.”
She did so, and looked puzzled. “Many appear to be wagering, too. But it doesn’t look as though they’re playing. What are they betting on?”
By way of explanation, he drew closer to the throng of guests encircling the vingt-et-un table. A quintet of bucks actually played the card game. They were tiresome men full of braggadocio that Kieran knew from his usual haunts. He tended to avoid them as much as possible. There was one man observing the players, however, that interested Kieran.
“Hedgerly,” he said, turning toward the older, bespectacled man. Lawrence Hedgerly had made his fortune in manufacturing, and while he was not often a habitué of gaming hells, he did occasionally indulge.
“Ransome,” Hedgerly said with a distracted bow. Then he bowed more deeply for Celeste. “Madam.”
“Sir,” she replied with a slight Cockney accent.
“How goes the play tonight?” Kieran asked.
“Engaging, and profitable,” Hedgerly replied. He gave a short huff of laughter. “These dandies think they can best me, but I didn’t become the owner of three country estates by relying on charm alone.”
“I know you better than that,” Kieran countered. “And I’ll wager you twenty pounds that Lonsdale will scratch his nose when he’s dealt his next hand.”
Beside him, Celeste softly drew in a breath, as if surprised that he’d place such a wager.
Hedgerly raised a brow. “How certain you sound, Ransome.”
“How uncertain you sound, Hedgerly.”
The older man’s mouth hitched. “Goading me into betting is beneath you. And yet I’ll take your wager.”
Kieran, Celeste, and Hedgerly all turned their attentions toward Lonsdale, the florid dandy awaitinghis next hand. Tension mounted as other players’ cards were dealt, Celeste’s hand squeezing on his forearm as she waited.
The press of her fingers on him brought his body to attention. Suddenly, he didn’t give a damn about the wager. He was far more intrigued by the feel of her excitedly clutching his arm—bringing to mind other activities where she’d hold tightly to him.
Focus, goddamn you, he snarled at himself.
Finally, the dealer set cards before Lonsdale. Even Kieran held his breath and then...
Lonsdale scratched his nose.
“Damn,” Hedgerly muttered.
Celeste bounced once on her feet, which did intriguing things to the neckline of her bodice, but Kieran tried valiantly not to notice. Instead, he turned to Hedgerly, his hand outstretched.
