Page 56 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
“I believe that completes your toilette, sir,” Wesham said, stepping back and surveying him with an approving nod. “You will surely draw the attention of many eligible ladies, and perhaps those that are a trifle less eligible.”
Finn poked his head into Kieran’s room, knocking his fist against the doorjamb. He was clad in only a shirt and a pair of breeches, his feet bare onthe floor. “Are you done with Wesham? I’m to meet Dom at the club by four o’clock.”
The valet turned a questioning look to Kieran, who waved him toward his brother.
“I’ll just prepare the things to shave you, sir,” Wesham said on his way out.
Finn ran a hand along his jaw. “Damn. Here I thought I’d done a fair job of scraping off my whiskers.”
“Doubting Wesham is a grave error to be repented at length,” Kieran said, striding to the desk he kept in his bedchamber. Books and sheets of foolscap covered its surface, with quills scattered here and there, but atop the whole chaotic affair was a slip of paper bearing the bold cursive of Celeste’s handwriting.
At the recital, I will introduce you to no fewer than three respectable debutantes. Alas, no one will be reading from the Lady of Dubious Quality or frolicking in a fountain but there might be cake.
—C.
He ran his fingers over the words, picturing her bent over the paper, perhaps with a stray tendril of hair caressing her cheek that she unconsciously brushed aside, only to have it slide along her skin once again.
What he wouldn’t give to be the one to stand behind her and bend down to press a kiss to her nape.
“I can only speculate on what has you wearing the guise of a respectable gentleman,” Finn said,breaking into his ruminations. “Perhaps you intend to rob a jeweler’s shop and need to look presentable to get in the door.”
“A bank, in fact,” Kieran answered. “They won’t let me into the vault if I appear too raffish.”
His brother leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “Wheredoyou intend to go at this godforsaken hour, and in such staid regalia?”
“Musical recital at Lord Hempnall’s.” Kieran fussed with his neckcloth, even though Wesham had tied it perfectly. “Celeste wrangled me an invitation, and she’s meeting me there. Have to look suitably virtuous if I’m to be thought of as a viable bridegroom by the mamas in attendance.”
Finn was mute.
“What?” Kieran demanded as he faced his brother.
“I said nothing.”
“One of your weighted silences always signifies that you’ve an opinion on something.” He glowered at Finn.
“How many outings have you had with Miss Ransome?”
“Just the one,” Kieran answered, tugging on his cuffs. When Finn continued to wordlessly stare at him, Kieran growled, “One sanctioned event during the day. Two at night. And a small outing yesterday.”
“Telling you what to do is a fool’s errand,” Finn said, pushing away from the door, “but I’d advise you to be cautious, Key.”
“I’d tell you that I’m always cautious but we both know that to be a lie.”
“Where Celeste Kilburn is concerned,” Finn said mildly, “you’ll need to employ that underdeveloped skill. You have a responsibility to her.”
Kieran marched up to his brother. “I’m aware of my goddamned responsibilities.”
That selfsame accountability had been the only thing that had kept him from yielding to his desire for her. But Finn didn’t need to know that Kieran and Celeste had kissed with an incendiary passion that continued to echo hotly in his body. He could still feel the silk of her most intimate places on his fingers.
Close as Kieran was with his brother, he’d never tell Finn that he ached with wanting Celeste Kilburn.
“I need to go,” he said, striding toward the door. He didn’t wait for his brother’s response before quitting their rooms.
Half an hour later, Kieran stood on the curb outside Lord Hempnall’s home on Green Street, smiling and nodding at the elegant people passing him on their way inside. Some of the guests looked at him with puzzlement, whilst others politely returned his bows. Even so, there were others that gaped at him as if they couldn’t understand how the Thames had flooded its banks and deposited garbage on Mayfair’s pavement.
He fought a sigh. Lasting change couldn’t be wrought quickly, so he ought to be grateful that Hempnall hadn’t sent a footman out to chase Kieran away.
Still, if Celeste didn’t arrive within the next quarter of an hour, Kieran would seek his solace in theclosest tavern. God knew he was far too sober. A pint would round off the afternoon’s hard edges.
