Page 15 of In a Rake’s Embrace (Sins & Sensibilities #3)
CHAPTER 15
A gatha’s soft, womanly scent teased his senses in the cool night air. Thomas inhaled deeply, trapping that delicate fragrance inside his body. He felt a strange and unwelcome lurch in his chest—something he had not expected and certainly did not want. Across from him, Ronald gripped the edge of the air balloon’s basket, vibrating with excitement, and Agatha mirrored him, a radiant flush of wonder lighting up her features.
She looked utterly enchanting tonight, her figure draped in a deep rose-colored gown that contrasted beautifully against the twilight sky. The gown, though simple in cut, shimmered faintly in the lantern light, highlighting her every movement with grace. Her hair was pinned loosely, with soft curls framing her face. She looked lovely and carefree, her emerald eyes sparkling as she took in the scene around her.
Several men, bundled in thick coats and mufflers, worked diligently to loosen the tethered ropes that kept the balloon anchored to the ground. The balloon was a magnificent sight—vast and gleaming in shades of blue, from pale sky to deep midnight, carefully chosen hues that Thomas knew would delight his brother. The massive canopy billowed above them like a slumbering giant waiting to rise. The hired balloonist, a gruff man with a weathered face, barked commands to his crew as they primed the valves and adjusted the flames, readying the burners for the ascent.
“We are going up!” Ronald shouted, his cherubic cheeks glowing a bright red as he bounced on his toes, barely able to contain his joy. “Aga, are you prepared?”
“I am!” Agatha let out a delighted laugh, her voice light and musical. “We are truly about to go into the sky. My mother once told me she watched an air balloon ascend here in London, and she drew so many images for me to picture the spectacle. I cannot believe that I’m inside one now. My sisters will be green with envy!”
She turned her gaze to Thomas as if inviting him to share in the moment. He stood at the opposite side of the basket, watching her and Ronald.
“I never imagined inside was so large,” she said. “Surely, at least twenty people can fit.”
“This one is a bit larger than others,” Thomas murmured.
The balloon could easily hold at least thirty people, and Thomasensured it was designed with the utmost care. The vivid blue hues of the balloon had been precisely chosen as they were his brother’s favorite color.
“When are we going to start going up?” Ronald shouted, hopping from one foot to the other in his eagerness.
Thomas smiled. “Mr. Powell will soon fire the burners. We’ll start floating higher when the air inside heats up enough.”
“How high will we go?” Agatha asked, her voice filled with wonder.
“At least five hundred feet, milady,” Mr. Powell replied with a nod. “We’re about to lift off.”
The ropes were untethered, and the balloon began its graceful ascent. The moment the ground fell away beneath them, Ronald let out a triumphant bellow, the sheer exuberance of his shout echoing through the open sky. Agatha startled, glancing at him in surprise, but soon laughed.
“What was that?” she asked, her eyes gleaming.
“Sailors shout ‘ahoy’ when they set sail,” Ronald explained, his face aglow with excitement. “We’re sky sailors now, so we shout, too!”
Agatha grinned, clearly amused. “That sounds perfectly logical.”
Thomas watched her, bemused, the warmth in her expression softening something inside him. There was nothing pragmatic about her laughter or Ronald’s exuberant logic, but Thomas kept his counsel. To his surprise, Agatha tipped her head back and let out a loud, joyful holler into the night sky—a sound so raucous and unladylikeyet so free and alive that it struck him as impossibly lovely. This encouraged Ronald to shout more, and even Mr. Powell did not seem to knowwhat to make of the scene.
The balloon soared higher, the world below shrinking away as the cool wind kissed their faces. The vast expanse of the London skyline stretched beneath them, the gasp lamps twinkling like scattered stars, while above, the real stars shimmered in the deepening dusk. The sensation of floating weightlessly in the sky, with nothing but the basket beneath their feet and the vast canopy of the balloon above, filled the air with quiet magic.
Thomas, despite himself, felt the thrill of the moment settle in his chest. Agatha stood at the edge of the basket, tendrils of her hair catching the wind, her face tilted to the stars, and he found it impossible to tear his gaze from her. She was radiant, her joy infectious, and for a fleeting moment, Thomas allowed himself to be swept up in the same sense of wonder that had overtaken her and Ronald.
Despite all the times he had soared in a hot air balloon, it had never felt quite like this. Perhaps it was the company he shared in this moment that filled him with a bewildering sense of contentment.
“We’re flying,” Agatha said, her voice filled with awe.
His brother slowly nodded as if he could hardly process the experience.
“I cannot believe we’re flying,” Ronald murmured. He glanced over his shoulder at Thomas. “Brother, we are flying .”
The balloon ride was nothing short of magical. Standing near the edge of the basket, Agatha marveled at how the London landscape slowly shrank beneath them, the varied lights of the city twinkling like scattered jewels. Above, the sky stretched endlessly, the stars breathtakingly beautiful in the velvety expanse. The gentle sway of the balloon and the cool wind against her skin made her feel weightless and free in a way she had never imagined.
One day, she would take Gloria, Maggie, Sarah, Carson and Henry to experience this and other sights in London. Agatha would save diligently for it. Awareness rippled under her skin as Thomas moved closer to his brother. Ronald had brought a small brass telescope, which he held tightly to his eye as he scanned the horizon with childlike wonder.
“I can see so far,” he gasped.
“What can you see?” she asked.
“ Everything! The city, the river, the lamps and fireplace in people’s windows, and I think … yes, I can see the stars better from here. They’re so bright.”
Agatha smiled, a wistful ache piercing her chest. “It’s like we’re flying among them, and there is a feeling that if we go close enough, we just might unravel the wonders of our world.”
She lifted her hand toward the sky, narrowing her gaze and peering up, making it appear like the stars were resting delicately on the tips of her fingers. “I wished we could go closer.”
Ronald nodded, seeming beyond words. He lifted the telescope toward the stars again, captivated by the view.
Agatha turned to Thomas, who had remained quiet, watching his brother with deep affection. “You are quiet.”
His gaze flicked to her, and so effortlessly, her heart skipped and danced beneath her breastbone.
“I have been in an air balloon several times.”
“This very one?”
“No. This was one specially made for Ronald.”
“This … it is owned and not rented?”
He glanced at Ronald. “When Ronald and I were younger, we often climbed trees together. My brother always wanted to do what I did, even when it was hard. We sat on branches for hours, staring at the stars. We talked endlessly about the possibilities of this world—that maybe, just maybe, life existed somewhere beyond the stars. He believed that is where our father went, and I agreed. Whenever he was troubled, we would climb a tree and talk.”
Agatha tilted her face toward the sky, captivated by the idea. Such thoughts had never occurred to her before. Life, for as long as she could remember, had been about surviving—how to make it through the day, the week, or the month. It was always about ensuring there was enough food for her siblings, blankets to keep them warm, or finding help when they fell ill. There was never any room for whimsy ... or friendship, or dreams.
Since her mother’s death, Agatha realized she had not stopped moving or worrying. She did not dwell on the pastor allow herself the luxury of imagining the future. She was firmly rooted in the present, each moment consumed by responsibility.
What would it be like to imagine, even for a moment, that the distant dreams she once held inside could come true?
A tight sensation gripped her heart as the thought took hold. What would it be like to have someone in her life who encouraged her to reach for those dreams—someone who would catch herand hold her close, even if she never quite achieved them? She swallowed against the unfamiliar feeling that stirred within her, an unknowing longing that felt terrifying.
“What happened after?” she asked softly, the question almost an invitation to understand something she had never known.
“He told me he wished he could be closer to the stars. I promised him that one day he would be.”
“From that conversation, you had this built?”
“Yes,” he said, gazing at the sky. “It took time, but I wanted to be sure it would be here for him when he was ready.”
“But … what if he never wanted to take the ride?”
Thomas didn’t respond right away. Silence stretched between them, the only sounds being the faint creaking of the basket as the balloon drifted higher and Ronald’s occasional sigh of happiness.
Finally, Thomas spoke, his voice quieter than before. “It wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t be a waste. I just needed him to know that the opportunity was there if he wanted to explore.”
Agatha stared at him, her heart swelling with an intangible emotion that vanished before she could understand its existence.
“You are wonderful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Thomas jerked slightly, his eyes snapping to hers. For a moment, he stared at her, then his mouth quirked. The man before her seemed so different from the whispers that echoed through the halls of Aphrodite . Many claimed he was a disreputable libertine; some even called him cunning and dangerous. They spoke of him as a reckless gambler, capable of losing thousands of pounds in a single night, only to win it back and more. Some ladies said he had no feelings of softness or whimsy, only cold pragmatism. However, Agatha realized they did not know the man, only what he allowed them to see. She wanted to know him.
“Come here, Agatha.”
The low command sent a ripple through her. She glanced at Ronald, still absorbed with the spyglass pressed to his eye, eagerly scanning the skies and horizon.
“When he gets lost in his own world, he can ignore everything around him for hours,” Thomas murmured. “I have often wondered what it would like to live in his thoughts.”
Agatha stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate. She maintained a respectful distance while infusing her steps with a subtle, practiced sway that conveyed sensuality.
A wicked gleam lit up his eyes. “Ah ... you’re putting your lessons to use, I see.”
She tilted her head, smiling slightly. “How is my walking?”
“Sensual and provocative, just as it should be. Balanced perfectly with a touch of coltishness and grace—enough to catch the eye without seeming too practiced. It’s enough to tempt any man to forget himself.”
She laughed, absurdly delighted. “What do you enjoy … other than flying in hot air balloons?”
“There is no mystery as to what brings men enjoyment.”
She inched closer so her words would only reach his ears. “Unfortunately, I am not well-versed in the pursuits of men of consequence like yourself.”
“All men are the same.”
Agatha sniffed. “Country gentlemen tend to their farms, take long walks in the woods, and share their troubles with their cows. I once saw Mr. Baddon complaining to his heifer about the grief his wife gave him. The cow seemed startlingly understanding and mooed at all the right moments. I cannot imagine you having this chat with a cow. Do you even have cows, my lord?”
Thomas laughed, the sound warm and rich, sending butterflies fluttering in her belly.
What is this feeling?
“I like quality whisky, carriage racing, sailing my yacht on the open seas, gambling … and fucking, though making love has its own pleasures.” He raised hisbrow, that devilish glint deepening. “How easily you blush.”
Agatha let her lips curl into the soft, carnal smile Bea and Ellen had taught her. “I was merely thinking that I now understand the delights of … fucking , thanks to your recent lesson and quite understand why it is a source of delight.”
He went still, his gaze sharpening as she let her fingers drift softly over his arm, the touch barely there. This was meant to be another lesson of subtlety in the art of seduction, but as her fingers lingered, she realized it was more than that. She wanted to touch Thomas—not to provoke a response or gauge his reaction, but to be close to him. The thought unsettled her, and she briefly closed her eyes, wrestling with the unfamiliar ache that stirred within her.
Agatha lifted her lashes and met his regard. “I am quite certain there is more to you, and I’d like to know more if you will allow it.”
His hooded eyes swept over her, an unfathomable guardedness in his gaze.
She brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek, aware of the sudden tightness in her heart. “If you have no wish to share, I do understand.”
An almost irritated grunt slipped from him, and he looked toward the horizon. They sailed in the air for several beats before Thomas murmured, “I enjoy my family.”
That peculiar thrill scythed through her heart. “What about them?”
“My brother sees life with an innocent wonder. Sometimes …” The corner of his mouth curled into a faint smile. “Sometimes, I talk with him to remind myself that there are still beautiful things in the world worth cherishing. My sister, Victoria—she’s a hellion at heart. It shatters my mother’s nerves, but I want her to stay exactly as she is. And my mother … she’s quick-witted, clever, owning an indomitable strength I only understood after my father’s death.”
Thomas stroked the tip of his finger along the skin below her chin, his touch sending warmth through her.
“What do you enjoy, Agatha?”
“Are you truly curious, or is this mere politeness, my lord?”
“I am not a man who subscribes to niceties,” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “I don’t ask out of obligation.”
Agatha smiled. “I enjoy reading.”
“Is that all?”
She hesitated, her gaze drifting to the glistening water in the distance. From this distance, the Thames looked almost serene, masking the filth that usually sullied its surface.
“I don’t really know what I like,” she admitted quietly. “I have never attended the theatre, Covent Gardens. I want to see the fruit market there. I love oranges.”
“Oranges,” he said slowly as if he did not know what to make of her.
Agatha felt a sudden pang of inadequacy. He must think her so gauche. “It is silly—”
“Nothing about you is silly.”
Ripples of warmth ghosted over her skin.
“You like oranges. I like grapes,” he said. “What else?”
Agatha was unequivocally flustered by the intent yet tender way he regarded her.
“I also enjoy spending time with my family.”
His steady gaze held hers, unblinking, as though he were absorbing every word. It made her self-conscious, and she laughed nervously.
“I … would like to visit the Royal Opera House, Vauxhall Gardens, or the Royal Museum. Bea and Ellen said that these are wonderful places to explore. I do enjoy long walks …” Agatha paused, another soft laugh escaping her lips. “And I’ve recently discovered that I quite like bathing in rose-scented water.”
“If you could pick one thing to do tomorrow,” he asked, “what would it be?”
She blinked, startled by the question. No one had ever asked her such a thing. Agatha scowled. “You will be responsible for the expectations rising inside me, my lord. You must ensure they are met.”
Thomas chuckled. With a sense of bemusement, she realizedthat she liked hearing him laugh.
“Pick going to a ball,” Ronald said suddenly, his voice cutting through the conversation.
Agatha spun around to face him, surprised by the suggestion. He was still fixated on the spyglass as if the night sky held answers to the world’s greatest mysteries. “A society ball?”
“Yes,” Ronald answered, lowering the glass just enough to flash her a wide, enthusiastic grin. “My brother can do anything.”
Her heart stuttered at the certainty in his voice. Such unshakeable faith in another person … she could not imagine it. Agatha shook her head, turning back to Thomas.
“That was never in the realm of my expectations. A ton ball would be too grand for me.”
“Pick a ball,” Ronald urged before returning to his telescope. “Brother does not like attending balls because mama always asks him to marry a lady from there, but I know he will take you without hesitation.”
Agatha was astonished. “He would ?”
“Yes,” Ronald said, “you are his friend.”
Her gaze collided with Thomas’s, and there was a most perplexing hope in her heart that she was afraid to examine.
“Would you like to attend a ball?” Thomas asked, his voice softer now, as though genuinely curious.
The very idea of it made her heart race with a strange sense of excitement. The grandeur, the elegance—she could barely imagine it. A sobering thought struck her. “What would be the point? I do not know how to danceandwould not know anyone there. Would I not be an oddity? How would I even procure an invite?”
“I thought Ronald explained I can do anything.”
She glared at Thomas, and he smiled.
“I will be your partner in … boredom for the night. There is no need to worry about knowing anyone there.”
“ Boredom? ”
“Balls are excessively dull; however … in three days, you will receive an invitation, and I will teach you to waltz within three days.”
Her breath hitched. The idea of dancing with the earl—of being in his arms in such a setting—made her pulse flutter and her belly tightened in a way she couldn’t explain. Agatha nodded, overcome by an emotion she couldn’t quite name. Agatha’s lips parted, but before she could speak, Ronald’s excited voice cut through the moment.
“Thomas! Look at this!”
He turned to his brother, who was holding the telescope toward him. “What is it, Ronald?”
“I can see the entire moon, and it’s huge !”
He took the spyglass. “Let me have a look, then.”
Who are you, Thomas, and why do I so badly want to know?
She leaned against thebasket and watched Ronald and Thomas. He laughed at something his brother said, then ruffled his hair. The earl was a man of deep loyalty who kept promises and built dreams, even if they were never fulfilled. And that, Agatha thought, made him more wonderful than he could ever realize. A sharp warning pierced herchest, but she brushed it aside. Tomorrow, she would reassert her good senses … but now … she wanted to savor the sensations blossoming through her.
It was new, scary … and wonderful.