Page 78 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
Belatedly, Celeste reduced her speed so that Dolly might keep up, but it didn’t seem to matter how much she told herself she was being unseemly, she couldn’t stop herself from hurrying.
When she’d proposed weeks ago that he was to take her to all the forbidden corners of London, she’d never suspected that the greatest danger came not from footpads and crooked gaming tables, but from imperiling her own heart.
It was well and good to tell yourself that you wouldn’t involve your heart. You could make all the grand pronouncements you desired, yet it was hubris, pure hubris, to think that having your lover gently and tenderly press a kiss to the top of your head had no repercussions. The physical pleasure had been incredible—but the sweetness that had followed seeped into every corner of her being.
She and Dolly reached the edge of the park, and she turned to her maid as she ran a hand down her skirts. “How do I look?”
“Like a woman breathless to meet her lover,” Dolly said dryly.
Celeste stiffened. Even though she considered her maid a confidante, she’d said nothing to Dolly about what had happened in the dressing room at the Imperial Theatre.
“Be at ease, miss,” her maid said in a soothing tone. She fussed with the ribbons of Celeste’s bonnet, adjusting the bow beneath her chin. “No onebut me knows, and I’ll not go spilling any stories. Not even to my sister.”
“I thought gossip was the preferred currency of servants.”
Dolly clicked her tongue. “No denying it’s worth a fair amount, but if word got out that my mistress dallied with a bloke under my watch, no one would ever hire me again, and there’s the truth of it.”
“You’re protecting yourself as much as me,” Celeste noted.
“Ah, I do care about you, miss,” her maid replied with a smile. “But when you’re on the other side of the dressing table, you’ve got to look out for yourself, too.”
Celeste anxiously gripped Dolly’s hand. “I can’t let anyone know about what happened,” she pled.
“Be at ease, miss,” her maid said, eyes kind. “No one will hear anything from me.”
“Thank you.” Grateful, relieved, she fumbled with her reticule.
Dolly held up her hand. “No need for that. But when you’re tired of your yellow gown, the one with the cream ribbons—”
“You’ll have it,” Celeste vowed. The dress was a meager price to pay for silence. She’d give Dolly her whole blessed wardrobe if that’s what secured her and Kieran’s secret. “As soon as we are home again, it’s yours.”
“There’s Mr. Ransome.” Dolly looked past Celeste’s shoulder. “Cor, that’s a tasty slice of a man.”
Celeste turned to see Kieran striding into the opposite end of the park, looking wickedly handsome in his tall gray beaver hat, sienna-hued coat,gold waistcoat, and buff breeches. Even at a distance, he drew her gaze and stole her breath. She loved watching him move, like an elegant knife.
“Who could ever blame you for yielding to such a bloke?” her maid wondered.
“I didn’tyield,” Celeste noted. “I wanted, and he gave.”
“Always did like a generous man.” Dolly chuckled. “There, miss, no need to chase me off of him. There’s someone else I’ve got my eye on, but I can appreciate a fine view.”
Kieran hadn’t spotted Celeste yet, so he stopped at a bench and sat down. But he was far from still, jogging his leg as he glanced around.
“Who do you fancy?” she asked Dolly as she headed toward him.
“My would-be beau is the eldest son’s valet at the place where my sister’s in service. His name’s Mr. Bedworth. John Bedworth.” The normally composed Dolly sounded giddy as she spoke.
“Take Saturday off and visit your sister,” Celeste said. “Perhaps you might cross paths with Mr. Bedworth.”
“Thank you, miss,” her maid replied eagerly. “Just for that, I’ll stand very far away from you and Mr. Ransome and I might not even notice a thing if you two wandered off together for a few moments alone.”
“Might not be a good idea,” Celeste said under her breath as she approached Kieran—because she had a sneaking suspicion that if she did get some time with Kieran, she’d grab him and kiss him like she was a sailor on leave.
He saw her and leapt immediately to his feet. The bow he gave her was formal, slightly stiff. Had he lost interest in her, considering her merely a conquest?
Yet when his gaze met hers, there was such warmth and pleasure there, as if he were truly glad to see her again, and her worry unknotted.
“Miss Kilburn,” he said politely.
