Page 36 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
“Admiring my Celsiana,” an equally rosy-cheeked gentleman standing beside the flowers said.
“Such magnificent blooms, Lord Hempnall,” Celeste replied.
The man then launched into a detailed and protracted monologue about the cultivation of the rose, including the difficulties in maintaining adequate drainage, and the appropriate time to prune. Celeste listened with an attentive manner, while Kieran did his best to mirror her expression, though he couldn’t help but remember the opera dancer who’d shown aremarkable inventiveness when it came to the application of rose petals.
“I must say, Mr. Ransome,” Lord Hempnall added just as he concluded his speech, “I’d little expectation of ever seeing you here, amongst us horticulture enthusiasts. For you I imagine it’s a trifle, er, sedate.”
“There’s such inspiration to be found amongst the botanical world, my lord,” Kieran replied. “‘I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one / To pine on the stem; / Since the lovely are sleeping, / Go, sleep thou with them.’”
“That’s quite clever,” Lord Hempnall exclaimed.
“The credit belongs to Thomas Moore.” Kieran wouldn’t recite his own verses on flowers here—these people at the horticultural exhibition were not his preferred audience.
“Considerable erudition.” Lord Hempnall nodded approvingly at Kieran.
“And to have such sophistication and intellect amongst your musical recital’s guests would undoubtedly add to the success of the event,” Celeste added. “It’s next week, isn’t it?”
Well played, Miss Kilburn, Kieran thought.It was all he could do to keep from elbowing her in the side and grinning slyly at her.
“Indeed,” the older man said with a nod. “So it is. Do say you’ll join us, Mr. Ransome.”
“I’m deeply grateful for the invitation.” Kieran bowed again. “Will you be honoring your guests with a performance?”
Lord Hempnall chortled. “An unwell goat bleats better than my own attempts at music.”
“When I come to your home,” Kieran vowed, “I shall bring a remedy for the goat.”
The gentleman laughed again, and Celeste looked quite pleased.
“I shall provide you with Mr. Ransome’s address so your secretary can send him the formal invitation,” she said. “Now he and I will bid you farewell so that you mayn’t tire of our company before we see you again.”
Kieran bowed to Lord Hempnall before he and Celeste moved on.
“Bravo, my general,” he said in a low, appreciative voice. “Our campaign progresses.”
“Many young women of excellent families and outstanding reputation will be in attendance at the viscount’s recital. You won’t be able to declare your intentions to court one of them so quickly, but I’ll introduce you, which is an important step.”
“And what if I’m not courting someone by the time the Season ends and our bargain is over?”
She sent him a wry look. “Between my vouching for your character, your unspeakably handsome face, and your ability to recite poetry, I’m certain you’ll find some woman who will happily be home to accept your calls.”
“Unspeakably handsome, am I?” He strutted, pleased by her admiration, however unwillingly it was given. “And you’re blushing.”
“It’s dreadfully warm in here.” Her hand climbed to the front of her neck, and he couldn’t look away from the long lines of her fingers against her throat.
“Someone’s selling lemonade next to the lake.While it isn’t the rich and holy blood of virgins, I’ll drink it.”
They turned to head toward the pavilion’s exit, but the predictably handsome Lord Montford stepped into their path. He gave Kieran a genteel nod, slightly cool in its brevity, but when he turned to Celeste, it was as though he’d forcibly turned up a lamp to shine brighter.
“Miss Kilburn,” he said smoothly, bowing over her offered hand, “how charming to see you here today.”
“Good afternoon, Lord Montford,” Celeste answered, and while her words weren’t precisely dripping with affection, there was something in her tone that bespoke a certain degree of intimacy. “I believe you know Mr. Kieran Ransome.”
As the words left her lips, Celeste looked as though she wanted to grab them and stuff them back into her mouth.
“At Jenkins’s,” Kieran said offhandedly. “But let’s not talk about such immoderate places in front of Miss Kilburn, when we’ve such a delightful horticultural exhibition that absolutely demands every ounce of our attention.”
Lord Montford looked a trifle puzzled, but Kieran smiled at him with easy conviction, adding a nod for good measure. Soon, the other man smiled and nodded as well, likely half-convinced that they ought to study every plant and flower with thoroughgoing zeal. Kieran had learned the trick of convincing someone through positive reinforcement from Finn, who’d used it to outstanding effect in the gaming hells across London.
