Page 97 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
“When have we been wise?” he asked wickedly.
“Fair point.”
“But,” he went on, stepping back, “our next time together, I plan on beingveryleisurely andverythorough.”
Heat coursed through her, yet she had to hold herself in check. For now. She glanced toward the corridor. Nervousness at what was to come skittered along her limbs. “We ought to rejoin the others. There’s more work to do tonight.”
“I’m with you,” he said, steady and secure.
When he held out his hand, she took it.
Together, they entered the saloon. Much as she wanted to keep her fingers intertwined with his, such public displays were not well tolerated, so she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they rejoined his guests.
Many faces turned toward them, including their respective families. Both Dom and Finn wore self-satisfied smirks—she’d have to thank them later for their part in tonight’s scheme. But for now, there was one person that needed to be dealt with.
Kieran must have been thinking the same thing, because he asked lowly, “Shall I talk to your father?”
“We’llbothspeak with him.”
Kieran nodded in approval, and together they headed toward her father, who watched them with a touch of bafflement.
“Might we have a word with you, Mr. Kilburn?” Kieran asked politely.
“I’d like that, too, Da,” Celeste added, holding firm to her courage.
Still looking perplexed, her father inclined his head and the three of them moved to a quiet corner of the saloon.
“What’s this about?” her father asked, frowning.
“Da, Kieran and I are going to be married,” she said.
Her father’s brows climbed. “Thought Lord Montford was marrying you.”
“He never asked formally,” she explained, “and I never agreed.”
“But...” Her father frowned. “He’s anearl. Montford is going to be a marquess one day. This bloke,” he added, glancing at Kieran as his frown deepened, “is just a third son. He’s the heir to nothing.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Celeste insisted. “What matters is a person’s heart, and no one has a better heart than Kieran.”
Kieran sent her a look full of pleasure and gratitude. “My thanks, love.”
“He won’t take kindly to you jilting him,” her father pointed out grimly. “We won’t be welcome in the ton.”
“I amso tiredof being this family’s social savior,” Celeste said fiercely. “I never asked to be the sole defender of our reputation, and it’s bloody unfair that you’ve pinned that to me. If being accepted by Society is so important to you, Da, thenyougo to teas and balls and make meaningless conversation with the toffs.”
Her father blinked, clearly surprised by her outburst.
Yet she wasn’t done. “Who gives a goddamn what they think? What does it matter if they accept us or not? They aren’t better than us. And I’ll tell you something else, Da,” she continued passionately, “I’mproudof being from Ratcliff. Good people live there, hardworking people who love their families. I refuse to be ashamed by who I am or where I’m from. And neither should you.”
“They’ll scorn us,” her father protested.
“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “All that matters is not doing harm, and caring for others. I’m working with the people of Ratcliff now. Helping them learn to read and write, and if anyone sneers at that, then I say with all sincerity,I don’t bloody care.If you’re ashamed of our past, that’syourbattle to fight, not mine.”
Her father stared at her in astonishment.
“You should be proud of her,” Kieran said in the silence. “Of who she is and what she wants to accomplish. She’s the best person I know,” he went on, voice thickening, “and if that doesn’t thrill you, then you deserve pity, Mr. Kilburn.”
Celeste smiled up at Kieran as a grateful tear tracked down her cheek. Tenderly, he swiped it away with his thumb.
