Page 36 of Her Wicked Highwayman
A hand clapped on Rafe’s shoulder in greeting, preventing him from continuing in the woman’s direction. “Ah, Mr. Lennox, how very kind of you to join us.” He turned to see Mr. Mertonbeaming jovially at him. Rafe held in a growl. Damnation, he would have to talk to the host, and quickly, so he could get back to his hunt.
“Good evening, Mr. Merton. I thank you for the invitation.” He summoned a smile and fought the urge to look toward his distant, shining star.
“We were delighted to hear from your brother that you would be attending. My daughter, Rachel, would certainly be honored if you asked her to dance.” He waved at his daughter, who had just curtsied to her partner after finishing their dance. She floated across the room and accepted her father’s arm. She smiled warmly at Rafe and seemed to instantly read the situation, most likely because her father had been throwing her in the path of gentlemen all night.
“Mr. Lennox, it’s been a few years since we’ve met.”
“It has indeed been a few years, Miss Merton.”
“I imagine my father has asked you to ask me to dance?”
“I would be most delighted to ask you to dance.” He offered his hand, hoping that she would accept. That would be one woman down, seven to go, and he could ply her with his charm and see if he could learn about her friend. At least, hehopedthey were friends. He had to find someone who knew who the little thief was.
“Yes, of course.” She gave her father an amused but doting look. No doubt her patience was being taxed as her father attempted to match his daughter to someone tonight, but she handled it with grace and humor rather than frustration.
She placed her hand in Rafe’s, and he led her back onto the dance floor. The dance was a lively one, which meant he had limited opportunities to get close enough to speak with her.
“Thank you for indulging my father,” she said as they twirled around each other, their hands clasped.
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied. She was a delightful dancer, he had to admit.
“I understand this is not your usual scene, Mr. Lennox,” she said when next they came back to each other.
“You are quite right. Just as you are indulging your father, I am doing so for my brother.”
“Ah, so he wishes to marry you off as well,” she chuckled. “It is a great pity we do not suit.”
Rafe’s eyebrow rose. “You do not evenpretendyou find me the most handsome and eligible bachelor in this room?” he asked, half-offended, half-teasing.
She giggled. “Handsome, most certainly, but rakes arenevereligible. Any woman who assumes that has wool for brains.”
“How right you are. I am most in love with my freedom,” he agreed, happy to be on such honest terms with a woman.
“As am I,” she replied.
Rafe was stunned. “You truly have no desire to marry?”
She shrugged, her gesture effortlessly elegant. “I am content as I am. Should a gentleman come along who suits me, then perhaps I shall marry. But I have no aching loneliness, nor must I bend to any demand of familial duty to marry. My brother will inherit my father’s estate, and he and I are good friends, not just siblings. Between my father’s trust left for me and my brother, I will be well taken care of. With that weight removed, I am free to do as I wish.”
Rafe pushed down the sudden flare of envy. What must it be like to have a brother who would support his sibling like that? Shoving that melancholic thought aside, he reminded himself he was pursuing the identity of his little thief. He could have her in his bed again, and his money back, if he was clever about it.
It all came down to what nature she truly possessed. Was she an innocent young creature who’d taken advantage of a situation? Or was she far more inventive and scheming than heever could have realized? He was drawn to both versions of her, even as mad as it sounded. She fascinated him completely, and he had to know which one of those versions she truly was.
He returned his focus to the woman before him. “Miss Merton...”
“Rachel,” she corrected with a chuckle. “We’ve known each other long enough as neighbors not to be so formal.”
“Rachel, then. I saw a young lady this evening and was told that you might be acquainted with her?”
“Indeed? Has someone caught your eye, then, oh heartless rake?”
“It appears so,” Rafe admitted, feeling that such an admission might win Rachel’s assistance now that he knew she had not set her cap for him herself. “That woman there... the one in the dark-blue gown with silver netting.” He nodded toward his little thief, who was still speaking with Ashton and Rosalind. The color had returned to the young woman’s face, and she seemed more relaxed now.
“Who? Di?”
“Di?” he echoed.
Rachel corrected herself with a blush. “Diana Fox. She lives on the lands just past ours. Have you not visited Foxglove Hall?”
