Page 71 of To Catch A Rogue
The heat in her cheeks changed from embarrassment to something else. She'd stopped following him through the rookeries by that stage, rather certain shedidn'twant to know where he was going.
Because Charlie had been handsome and brash and confident. And he wasn't the only one discovering what had changed during that one hateful summer.
"What about you?" he asked, tapping his fingers idly on her boot.
Lark swung her legs over the chair and sat up. "Most people thought I was a boy until I turned sixteen."
You included.
"In their defense," he replied, "you did spend most of your time wearing that god-awful cap and baggy shirt and trousers. You beat up boys twice your size, and never backed down from any challenge. And your hair was shorter than mine when we first met." His gaze narrowed. "It wasn't until your sixteenth birthday that I first saw you in a dress."
"Honoria made me wear it."
"It was horrible," he said.
"Youwere horrible. You said I looked like a skinny matchstick in a crocheted doily."
Charlie held his hands up helplessly. "I was seventeen. I was an idiot. And my brain kind of melted when you walked out in a dress. It just came out of my mouth."
"I cried for hours that night."
"And then you put a dead rat in my bed," he protested.
"You deserved it."
"Every day for aweek."
"You'd hurt my feelings."
Lark pushed away from the armchair, feeling a little restless. It was one thing to reminisce on old times, quite another to relive the horrible feelings they brought with them.
Take that, lust.Embarrassment quenched any sense of desire.
"You also didn't answer my question," Charlie called.
Lark froze. "What question?"
He leaned back against the armchair, thoroughly at ease, smiling mischievously. "I said,what about you? Don't tell me you've never been curious?" He gestured from her head to her toes. "You very clearly turned into a woman. Finally."
Bloody hell. "It's a shame you haven't quite managed the transition to gentleman yet."
"You're stalling...."
Lark crossed her arms over her chest. "A lady never tells."
Charlie's gaze cut to her rather abruptly, and he sat up. "Oh?" His voice lowered. "That's not fair, Lark. You were privy to nearly all my youthful transgressions."
"Not by choice."
Their eyes met, and she realized her tone had been a little hard.
Lark forced it to soften. "You do realize—once I finally outgrew my grotty little boy stage—I was surrounded by several well-meaning uncles who would probably slit the throats of any boy who even looked at me?"
Charlie's gaze flattened as he hauled himself to his feet. "Not such a terrible idea."
She punched him in the arm. "That is so typical. Why shouldyouget to have all the fun just because you're a man? I told Blade that once, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head."
"I can imagine. So... never?" he asked, with a strange light in his eyes.
