Page 66 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
Darwen scowled, but he grudgingly clapped for Kieran. The two men shook hands before they returned to their respective places on the cushions.
As conversation and the music resumed, she turned to Kieran as he stretched out. “Does your family know that poetry is one of your talents?”
“Finn knows,” he answered after taking a drink of wine. “And Willa. Dom—though he’s not blood kin. But I keep it hidden from Simon and my parents.” He gazed at her cautiously, as if assessing her response.
“I hope you aren’t embarrassed.”
“No need for embarrassment,” he answered, still reserved. “I only share that part of myself with people I trust. People who’ve earned it.”
“They’ve earned it?” she asked, glancing toward the revelers.
“They take me as I am.” He continued to regard her warily. “And you?”
This was why he had brought her here tonight—to show her this part of himself. Her heart expanded within her chest as she realized what an incredible act of vulnerability this was for Kieran.
“I am touched that you trust me this much.” She stroked her hand down his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, his eyes warm with gratitude. “Have you ever considered publishing your poems?”
He gave a wry little laugh as he sat back. “Who would pay for such gibberish?”
“It isn’t gibberish,” she insisted. “It’s wonderful. And anyone who says otherwise will have to contend with my wrath.” She shook her fist menacingly.
“Do you truly believe people would want to read my poems?” he asked with uncharacteristic shyness.
“I do,” she answered fervently. “At the least, consider the possibility of releasing a volume of your work.”
“I will.” He was contemplative for a moment before saying softly, “Thank you.”
A thrill shot through her body, a mixture of excitement and, strangely, pride. Pride to know that she’d given something to him that he seemed hungry for.
Yet he wasn’t and would never be hers.Remember that.
“Who is the ‘constellation of you’?” She needed to ground herself in the truth of the situation. “A lover?”
“Something I never lack is imagination.” His smile was wry.
She didn’t mean to exhale, yet her breath left her. “And a very rich imagination it is.”
Still—what would it be like to have him write a poem for her.Abouther?
“Kieran Ransome,” she mused. “Another Byron.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t talk of that histrionic, self-absorbed clown. Not to mention he does things that evenIfind reprehensible.”
“Haven’t seen you before, Salome,” a handsome man with thinning brown hair said, interrupting her thoughts.
“My first time here,” she admitted.
“Oho, a virgin!” the man exclaimed to the company. “She’s got to face the initiation.”
“Ah, leave her be, Hyde,” Kieran chided. “She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”
“Whatisthe initiation?” Celeste asked.
“You’ve got to dance with us,” Lottie explained.
“I can dance,” Celeste said at once. She’d even done some of the more risqué variety at Mr. Longbridge’s gathering.
Knowing chuckles went up, and she tried not to feel too gauche.
