Page 33 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
“Thus, our bargain.” His next words were deep and she felt them within her as surely as if he’d caressed her with his hand. “Know this—I won’t try to cheat you out of your experiences. We’ll help each other get what we require. Youcanrely on me.”
His words soaked into her with unexpected gravity. At each turn this night she’d encountered more and more surprises, but none more astonishing than him.
Up to now, her fascination with Kieran Ransome had been the kind of insubstantial infatuation based on what she’d believed him to be. Scoundrel, rake. Libertine. The sort of man who filled gossiprags but had no true dimension beyond the chaotic engine of scandal.
But he was more. So much more. There were depths to him, nuance and complexity that would ensure she would stay up far too late this evening, fascinated by everything she’d learned.
“Idohope I’ve given you a night to remember,” he said, almost shy.
“There’s no doubt of that.” Something expansive opened in her chest as she thought of her walk through the darkened streets to meet him, to setting foot inside Jenkins’s, conversing with the proprietress herself, and winning her first ever wager outside of a polite game of piquet. Gaming, with Kieran beside her. There had been that rather frightening moment when she’d encountered Lord Montford, yet even this brief terror added to the thrill of doing so many things that she’d yearned to do for so long.
None of it would have been half as wonderful without Kieran. He’d trusted her, encouraged her, in ways she’d never experienced before. And that alone was worth any possible scandal.
It was all temporary, of course. She had less than two months before the Season ended, before Lord Montford formally offered for her hand. And she had her end of the bargain with Kieran to uphold. She’d already plotted out her strategy for getting him invitations to the right parties where he’d be introduced to the right young women, one of whom would eventually become his bride.
She and Kieran were destined for other people, their time together was brief. Which meant that, while she still had the opportunity to live her ownlife, she would enjoy every moment to the fullest of her ability.
Yet, looking at his lyrically handsome face half in shadow, half in light, as he smiled at her with the joy of shared pleasure, worry coiled in her stomach. She had to be somewhat wise, and keep her heart safe. That, she suspected, would be an even greater challenge than avoiding social disgrace—and would hurt her far more than any scandal ever could.
Chapter 8
Kieran tried to slow his steps that took him toward Regent’s Park, but his feet refused to obey. They sped him quickly toward where he was to meet Celeste, regardless of the fact that such haste went against the languid principles of a bona fide rake. In theory, scoundrels were far too jaded by their debauchery to hurry anywhere.
Yet here he was, darting around slower-moving pedestrians and dodging vehicles as he crossed New Road to reach the park. He could have ridden or taken a cab, but it seemed much faster to simply walk than bother with all that.
It had been two days since Kieran had taken Celeste to Jenkins’s. On the ride home, she’d mentioned that she had a specific venue in mind for his debut as a reformed rake, and this morning, he’d received her note telling him to meet her at the park.
Hopefully, his clothing wasn’t too disorderly from his quick journey here. Of course, he needed to look presentable to meet whomever Celeste wanted tointroduce him to, but more importantly, what wouldshethink of how he looked?
He came to a sudden stop.
“The deuce,” a man behind him said in annoyance, stumbling around Kieran to keep them from colliding.
“Get stuffed,” Kieran answered distractedly.
Only one night with Celeste at a gaming hell, and he was losing sight of his goal. She was a means for him, a way to enter the realm of respectable society so he could find an equally respectable bride. It didn’t matter that watching her bloom beneath Jenkins’s many chandeliers had been far more enjoyable than any gambling he’d ever done. It hardly signified that she had called him kind and generous—somethingno onehad ever done—or that the press of her hand against his had lit fires throughout his entire being.
It didn’t sodding matter. They had separate paths to tread. And it was highly, highly unlikely that Dom would take kindly to a scoundrel like Kieran having designs on his sister.
But whatdidmatter was that he was almost late for meeting Celeste. He strode into Regent’s Park and approached the designated meeting point.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered to himself, “why is it sobright?”
Yet the sunlight skipped along the surface of the park’s lake, as if someone had scattered a handful of golden coins atop the water. The image was so unexpectedly lovely, he almost forgot why he was at the park at this ungodly hour, and for what purpose. Yet he couldn’t lose sight of the fact that hewas here for two reasons: to show polite society that Kieran Ransome had mended his rakehell ways and, in so doing, find himself a bride.
Just as Celeste had indicated in her brief missive, a large pavilion stood beside the lake, and he steeled himself as he strode toward it. His steps quickened when he caught sight of her at the water’s edge, watching the waterfowl gliding upon the surface.
Today, instead of that salacious green gown, she wore a perfectly demure pale blue redingote over a white dress, and instead of a dark wig, she’d covered her reddish brown hair with a bonnet of straw, trimmed with matching pale blue ribbons. The sweep of her bare nape riveted him.
She looked just as captivating today as she had two nights ago. It would be far more comfortable if she attracted him only in her Salome guise. Any man, and many women, would find her alluring in that rig.
To want to nuzzle her neck when she was dressed so primly did not bode well.
Christ, he was in trouble if only one night in her company and merely holding her hand set his head to spinning. Because he needed her and her social connections, so he’d have to find some miraculous way of holding himself in check around her.
Of course, keeping Celesteoutof trouble was his intention. Well...publictrouble. She seemed quite enthusiastic to experience as much private trouble as possible, and damn him if he didn’t look forward to the prospect. He’d simply have to forget about how she’d been so insightful, so compassionate, or how good it felt to touch her, even briefly.
Impossible.
