Page 81 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
Do what you must.She reached for his arm. “No. I wish to....”
“What, Miss Kingsley? Will you berate me for faithlessness? Insist you don’t want to marry me? Or are you here to tempt me with kisses and then throw me away?”
His hand closed over hers and he drew her closer to the light.
“You are crying.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to tremble, casting about for her reason, her backbone.
“You must know the truth,” she said, her voice shaky.
“What truth?”
He was still distant, reserved.
Her heart raced. She struggled to fill her lungs.
No one had known the truth except Mama and Consuela. No one.
Trembling, she shook off his hand and wrapped herself in her own arms.
And Rigo. Rigo, who so many years earlier had been like a big brother. He knew.
“What truth, Miss Kingsley?”
The chill of her English name on his lips brought her out of her weakness. She would share this truth with him. He would reject her, and she would convince his father to get her money for her, and she would go home to look for Papa. If the very worst happened, and she had to stay here, she would find a way to do so until she reached her majority and could go on with her life.
She straightened her back and firmed her shoulders.
“My name is Maria Graciela Kingsley y Romero. That is who I am, even though you English ignore my first name and give no import to my mother’s surname.” She lifted her chin. “Shortly before we left for England, my mother died of the fever in Veracruz, as did Consuela, who was our friend, and who was known as the mother of Reina.”
“The mother of Reina,” he said, biting off each word.
She held her breath, watching him. He knew. Charley knew.
Well then. Let him know everything.
She untied her belt and threw off her robe, watching his hard eyes. She untied the string at the neck of her night rail and those eyes narrowed more, focusing doggedly on her face.
“You must know everything.” She let the bodice drop to her waist and turned quickly, pulling her plait forward over her shoulder.
His gasp gave her hope. “There will be more scars here on my back, yes? It will never be beautiful.”
“As long as I am around, no one will harm you again.” He pulled at the nightrail attempting to draw it up, but she slapped his hands away and turned, her breasts bare.
Let him see that her nipples were brown, not pink, like a virgin girl’s.
His jaw was an iron clasp holding in what looked like anger. She took a deep breath.
Charley would not hurther.
“You must s-see everything,” she said.
After Veracruz, she had never exposed more than her back to anyone, not Francisca, not any other maid sent to help her. With another deep breath, her hands opened and the loose gown dropped to the floor.
Charley’s gaze did not fall from her face, nor did he breathe. “I am only human, Miss Kingsley.”
“I am not trying to seduce you, Mr. Everly. You must look.”
“Stop this—”
“Look. You must.”
His gaze dropped. His mouth opened. He fell to his knees and his warm palm covered her there, in that place where her belly swelled, where a hot iron had branded her.
