Page 93 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
Taking a step toward her, he said, “Thought when he finally proposed, you’d look a mite more pleased about it. We come from Ratcliff and you’ve truly landed an earl. That’s a fine prize, my gel. Your ma and I had such dreams for you, and he can make them happen.”
Celeste said nothing. It was either that or flip her escritoire across the room, which she couldn’t permit herself because that would call for an explanation, and if she explained her circumstances to her father, everything would collapse from the collective weight of anger and sorrow, including herself.
“We can take the carriage together to Mr. Ransome’s party,” she said finally.
“You got a dress for the party?” her father asked.
“I’m certain there’s something in my wardrobe that will suffice.”
“Get yourself a new one,” he said gruffly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Let my Star outshine all the toffs.”
“The party is tomorrow,” she reminded him. “That would be a difficult feat for Madame Jacqueline to create a whole gown in such a short amount of time.” And the thought of going through a fittingexhausted her. She’d never enjoyed the process, yet now she could hardly stand the thought of picking out fabric and trim and a host of other details that didn’t bloody matter.
“Pay her extra. Whatever it takes. Nothing but the best for my Star.” He patted her cheek with his calloused hand. It had been years since Da had lifted a crate, but his work-roughened hands were still part of him. They always would be.
He lowered his hand and left her bedchamber.
Alone, she dropped her composed mask. After rubbing her face with her hand, she picked up the invitation again and studied it. One more day. Kieran had some kind of plan in motion, but didn’t say what it might be. A tiny bud of possibility tried to sprout within her, but she tore it up before it could take hold. She used to do that in Ratcliff with the little dandelions that tried to poke their way through the dirt and cracks in the road—pluck them and dig around to pull up their roots. It hurt too much to see them struggle to bloom in such a despairing place, where they would only wither or be trampled under passing feet.
When there was so much at stake, she couldn’t permit herself any hope.
Anxiety and uncertainty wedged in close beside Celeste as she, her father, and, surprisingly, Dom all made the journey to Wingrave House. Attempts at making idle conversation quickly died out, and, as her father and brother weren’t naturally talkative, most of the journey was made in silence.
“You’ve no reason to be nervous,” Dom said, breaking the quiet.
“Why would she be?” Da asked querulously. “She’s gone to nearly a hundred of these blue blood parties, and her behavior’s always sodding perfect. Isn’t it, Star?”
Before Celeste could bite out that she was ruddy sick of behaving perfectly, Dom said, “It’s them other toffs that need minders.”
To her astonishment, he reached across the carriage and enfolded her hand in his own massive one.
“A little faith, Star,” he murmured.
“In what?” she asked.
Her brother glanced at Da, who watched them closely. “Inwho” was all Dom said, and then sat back, releasing his grip on her.
Mind spinning with all the possibilities of what her brother meant, she tried to distract herself by fussing with the skirts of her new gown. It had been foolish, but she’d selected it specifically with Kieran in mind, knowing that a sensualist such as he would enjoy the luster of deep teal watered silk in the glow of candlelight. Unfortunately, when she’d glanced at her reflection before leaving her bedchamber earlier, she’d seen that the vivid color hadn’t alleviated the new pallor of her face. Dolly had done her best to cover the circles beneath her eyes with powder. Yet some battles couldn’t be won.
She could try to be optimistic. Perhaps Lord Montford would be at the gathering tonight—though it was unlikely Kieran would invite him—and see her looking so poorly that he’d end their farce of anengagement. But that was a fantasy. Lord Montford believed that he was somehow helping her, and, in his eagerness to play the rescuer, he’d surely see her declining health as yet another sign that he ought to intercede on her behalf.
The gall of that man! Many, many violent scenes had played out in her mind, and continued to do so, all of them ending with Lord Montford’s grisly demise at her hands. Sadly, she was unable to enact any of those scenarios, and so all she could do was pray that whatever happened tonight, there would be an abundance of wine to numb her emotions.
When the carriage stopped outside Wingrave House, Celeste alighted, her father and brother at her heels. They entered the imposing mansion, where a footman divested Da and Dom of their hats and coats, before the butler directed them to an upstairs saloon.
As she climbed the steps, Celeste looked around at the expensive furnishings that had the well-burnished look of family heirlooms passed down through generations. This was the world into which Kieran had been born, and it was sumptuous beyond imagining, yet there was something distinctly cold about all the objects and portraits, as if they deliberately encouraged distance between themselves and the viewer.
No wonder Kieran eagerly searched out sensation and pleasure. If his parents were present tonight, it would be a challenge not to glower at them, knowing how they’d tried to suppress his poetic, emotional self.
“Ready, Star?” her brother asked as they nearedthe saloon. Voices and music floated out, including Kieran’s distinctively deep tones. Her stomach leapt at the sound, but she pressed her gloved hand to her belly in an effort to calm herself.
“Ready, Dom,” she answered.
All three Kilburns stepped into the large, open chamber. It didn’t have the massive proportions of a ballroom, but was substantial enough to contain a seating area, a pianoforte, and a decently sized space where a number of couples danced a gavotte.
Clearly, the reformation of Kieran’s reputation had been a success, as evidenced by the number of virtuous members of the ton filling the chamber. She saw the Duke and Duchess of Greyland, and Lord Hempnall, as well as members of esteemed, landed families such as Mrs. Lapley. Even Mr. Longbridge was there, though he was considerably more respectable looking tonight than he had been at his party. He looked in her direction, but if he recognized her from that night, he gave no sign.
Celeste’s gaze skipped over all these people as she searched out Kieran, and when she saw him, all the love she felt for him roared to life. He was clad in a midnight-black coat, with his cravat, waistcoat, and breeches a snowy white, and was so handsome her throat burned. He conversed with his brother, father, and a dark-haired woman with her back to the door, but when Celeste entered the room, he left the discussion and strode right to her.
