Page 15 of Just About a Rake (Ladies Who Dare #5)

L eonora’s eyes fluttered open. Around her, the chamber was dark, except for the small sparks of embers still alight in the hearth in her chamber. How many hours had it been? How many days? She couldn’t say. Her mind was still much too fuzzy.

She shouldn’t have been so stubborn. She should have changed into warm clothes the moment she’d arrived home after their little adventure in the rain. Then she wouldn’t have felt so miserable.

She struggled up to her elbows, her limbs sluggish. Blinking against the haze, she turned, searching for the water Heart had placed beside her bed.

“Leonora.”

The voice—deep, unmistakable—cut through the fog in her mind.

A yelp tore from her throat, her heart lurching as she whipped to the other side of the bed, clutching her nightgown as if it could serve as armor. Her gaze instantly locked on a man who most certainly should not be in her chamber! Certainly not in her bed! Yet here he was, lounging on top of the covers, fully dressed, save for his shoes, as if he had every right to be there. He was propped up on one elbow. Watching her.

Her pulse pounded. “Dare? What on you doing here? Wait, no, how are you here?”

“Are you thirsty?” He rolled off the bed and padded over to the decanter, filling a glass with water and handing it over. Her eyes followed his every movement.

“Thank you.” She took the glass and soothed her parched throat with big gulps of water. Satisfied, she placed it back on the table.

He sat down on the bed beside her, reaching out to place the back of his hand against her forehead. “Still warm.”

Leonora stared at him, all sorts of foreign sensations flitting in her body. “How did you get into my room?”

“The balcony,” he said softly.

She glanced at the double doors. She could have sworn she’d locked them. Her gaze swung back to him. “Are you Romeo?”

His lips quirked, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Impossible.”

“Why?”

“That would mean that you are Juliet, and she has much too tragic an ending.”

“Him too.”

“He is not the one who matters in the story.”

She shuffled back against the pillows, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up her neck. “Oh? Well, you still have something in common, don’t you? Climbing up into bedchambers.”

“This is my first time.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.”

Something unreadable flashed in his gaze. “You should. This is the first time I’ve ever snuck into a woman’s chamber. However, I’ll admit,” he chuckled, “I have a skill for sneaking out.”

He dipped a cloth in the washstand and cleansed the sweat from her face. The coolness was a blessed relief against her overheated skin. His touch was gentle, unhurried. Leonora wanted to ask what he was doing—or why he was doing it—but she was afraid if she did, he would stop, so instead, she asked, “How did you know I wasn’t feeling well?”

A dark look crossed his face. “Lady Leeds said you had the sniffles. This is not the sniffles. You were almost on fire when I arrived.”

“So you’ve been keeping vigil over me?” A rake caring for a lady. This certainly was moment for her diary.

“Someone had to.” He set the cloth aside. “Someone did.”

She settled deeper into the pillows. “I dismissed my maid earlier. It was just a small fever.”

“Small is not what I would have called it.”

Leonora studied the man. His usually finely styled hair stuck out in every direction. She also couldn’t quite pick up on his mood. He seemed tired, brooding even, yet he could still manage to smile. “You’ve taken quite the risk. If my brother finds you here, I cannot save your life.”

“Speaking of him, did you confront him? I thought for a moment he’d locked you up.”

“I meant to, but I couldn’t.” She let out a small breath. “I might not be locked up, but the words are—forever locked in a breath that refuses to pass my lips. I keep swallowing them back.”

His eyes roamed over her face. “Then you can do nothing but wait until they are ready to pass.”

Leonora sighed. “I suppose. I did ask him about his history with the duchess. He lied right to my face.”

“He claimed no connection?”

She nodded.

They were both quiet for a moment.

“Could it be that she is not your mother?” he asked.

“How can that be?” Leonora said. “Even you have commented on our likeness.”

“Yes, well, there is no denying that there’s a definite likeness. However, a lot of people look alike. Not all of them are related.”

She should thank him for attempting to reassure her. But, “She called on you... spoke about me. No, I won’t be so easily thrown off course by Heart. However, I’m a terrible sleuth.”

He chuckled. “We have that in common.”

Leonora nudged him with a leg. “What about you? Are you any closer to finding what you are looking for?”

He shook his head. “It appears that in both our cases, unless we, or rather my cousin, boldly confront the parties for what we want, we will get little in the way of answers.”

“What a predicament.”

He exhaled a long breath. “Indeed. So it’s best you focus on your health. How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“You should rest, then.” He rose to his feet. “I will take my leave.”

“Are you leaving? So soon?” If asking boldly was the only way to get the answers she sought, she might as well start with him. “Why did you come in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” He dragged a hand over his face and laughed. “I left the ball tonight with every intention of going home, but before I knew it, I ended up here.”

“Were you worried about me?”

“Yes” His gaze met hers. “Don’t ask me why, but I was.”

Leonora grinned at the man. He looked so put out that she wanted to laugh, but she refrained, allowing him to save face—just a bit. “I won’t ask, don’t worry. Thank you for coming, though. I must admit, it’s quite thrilling to wake up with a rake in my bed.”

“You are impossible, do you know that?”

“I might claim the same about you.” She paused for a small moment. “When we last parted...”

He shifted restlessly. “What about it?”

“What were you thinking right before you closed the carriage door?”

His brows furrowed. “What was I thinking?”

She nodded. “I’ve been racking my mind trying to decipher the look on your face, yet I am still at a loss.”

“I cannot say I remember my exact thoughts.”

“They don’t have to be exact. Do you remember even the smallest bit?” She would have trouble forgetting that look until she had an inkling of what had been behind it.

He was quiet for a moment, then answered, “I believe I was thinking it was best to put distance between us.”

Distance? “Why? Because of Heart?”

He nodded. “I didn’t want him to catch us.”

She sensed the truth in his words, but she also sensed he wasn’t telling her everything. Leonora decided to let it go—she preferred not to dwell on one thing for too long. If Dare said that was what he had thought, she would believe him.

“Well, at least you need not worry that he would ever force you to marry me. You would be the last man on earth he’d try to force to marry me.”

“He said that?”

“Oh, yes.” Leonora smiled faintly. “He cried about his usual warnings to staying away from you and all that.”

“Perhaps you should listen to him.”

“I could, but I can’t help it when you show up in my chamber, now can I? This goes beyond flirting to something more clandestine, don’t you think?” Leonora chuckled, exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, yet she fought them like a cat refusing to walk away from a drip of milk. She wanted that last lick. She couldn’t resist.

He reached out to tuck a curl behind her ear. “I suppose that’s befitting a notorious rake.”

“It never gets old hearing you call yourself a rake.”

“It never gets old hearing you call me a rake and still flirting with me.”

“There is not much I can lose, you know.” She meant it as a jest, nothing more, but his expression still darkened.

“That’s not true, Leonora. You have everything to lose.”

She placed her hand over her mouth and yawned. “I still can’t base my entire future on the hope that a secret never gets revealed. But I can seize all the thrills.”

“I’ll help you keep your secret.” His eyes softened. “And where I can, I’ll help you seize those thrills.”

“I’ll hound you if you break that promise, Dare.” She’d probably hound him even if he didn’t.

*

How much do words cost?

This was the thought that raced through Dare’s mind as he made the first promise he’d ever made to a woman other than his mother. And the cost of this promise...

It couldn’t be calculated.

He never made promises to anyone that he couldn’t keep, and he never knew that he could keep any promise, so he simply didn’t make them.

But he’d just made one tonight. Mainly because he understood something about the fear of being discovered. He never fought the title of rake. It was a moniker assigned to men like his father, and Dare never denied that part of himself. However, the title also served as a convenient mask, hiding the shadows of him he didn’t want to be revealed to the world.

Shadows that could devour anyone if they came too close.

The same shadows that haunted his father.

He swept a hand through his hair, glancing to the balcony.

“It looks as though you bit into a sour grape. What are you thinking about now?” Leonora asked softly, her voice still a bit husky.

He chuckled. “Promises.”

“A man like you, I see how that can put you out of sorts.” She clucked her tongue. “Making them or breaking them?”

He met her gaze. “Both.”

“Do not tell me you are worried you that you cannot keep mine?”

“I’ll take yours to my grave.” Of that he had no doubt. “It’s just... I’ve never made a promise to a woman before.”

A smile, so soft, so understanding formed on her face, Dare wondered if he was even awake and not in a dream. “So I’m your first promise? How frightening.” Yes. How frightening. “And how exciting.”

Exciting? This woman was truly one of a damn kind. “What’s so exciting about stealing my first promise?”

She gave a small, short, laugh. “I cannot pin the exact thing, but I shall tell you when I do. That is my promise.”

“Then I shall hold you to that promise.”

“Just so you know,” she said slowly, her voice turning solemn, “if the truth of my birth ever comes out, it won’t be your fault unless it came directly from you.”

“It will never come from me,” Dare vowed. He would take that secret not only to his grave, but into the afterlife as well, and even then, he would never spill it.

“Then it will never be your fault. So it’s not a promise that you can break.”

Her eyes glowed at him, like twin suns. Dare almost felt blinded by that look. Saints, how could such a woman exist in the world? How could she put so much trust in him. It was addicting. “You’re tired. Get some more rest.” He glanced at the balcony again. “I should go.”

“I’m not tired,” she protested.

“You can barely keep your eyes open, yet you are not tired?” He arched a brow, amused by her stubbornness.

“I’m not that tired yet.” Leonora snatched the sleeve of his arm. “Don’t go.”

Dare paused. “I can’t stay.”

“Why not? You stayed before.” She patted the spot beside her. “You were lying on my bed right here.”

That had been... a sort of madness he couldn’t explain. “You were asleep. I could ignore my conscience.”

Her lips parted before she demanded, “How could you ignore your conscience then and not now?”

“Simple. You’re awake now, along with those teasing lips. I’d be tempting fate.” Not just fate—every damn thing he could tempt, whether it be wrath, seduction, or ruin itself.

“You cannot tempt fate, for fate cannot be tempted.”

He almost laughed. “What an audacious thing to say.”

“If it’s you, I don’t mind saying it.”

If it’s you . . .

Those words alone were enough to tempt a jaded man like himself. Did she have any idea how easily he could become consumed by them? Did she have any understanding of how dangerous those simple words could be? No. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She was much too innocent. Or she wouldn’t be saying such things to him.

“I thought you might have been lying when you said you didn’t care about my family secret,” she continued quietly, her tone heavy with sleep.

His brows furrowed. “I don’t.”

“Prove it,” she challenged, squirming into a comfortable position for sleep.

Dare had the sense if he didn’t, this little temptress would fight sleep all night. “How?” Dare asked, even though he suspected the answer would be just as dangerous as the woman.

“Stay.”

He was right. And she had won.

Without a word, he moved to the bed, lying down once more, this time flat on his back, above the linens, his gaze fixed on the shifting shadows the embers in the hearth cast upon the ceiling.

Those were safe. Not tempting. Just shadows.

He adjusted his thoughts. “I know you don’t want to hurt Heart, but have you ever thought that he might not be hurt but rather relieved?” he asked finally.

“I haven’t thought of it like that,” her soft voice came. “I suppose I am afraid to add to the burden. And also of how the balance of our entire family would change. I must be a painful reminder of Heart’s past.”

He turned his head to look at her. “No, not painful.”

Her gaze locked with his. “How do you know?”

“For the most part, people avoid what’s painful and stay close to what brings them joy. Heart has never avoided you. He’s always kept you close. That alone is an answer.”

Her lips curved in a smile, reaching all the way to her eyes. “Thank you. What a nice thing to say.”

“Don’t doubt Heart too much,” Dare said, holding himself back from inching closer.

“His heart would be warm if he heard how you defended him, I’m sure.”

“I’m not defending him,” Dare muttered in denial. Heavy denial. “I’m reassuring you. Your heart should be the one warmed.”

“It’s warm,” she whispered, her tone so soft he almost didn’t catch it. “Perhaps a touch too much.”

“Well, we cannot have that,” Dare said, and then teased, “A heated heart could lead to a Shakespearian-like tragedy.”

“Or comedy, depending on the way you look at it.”

“Just so long as we’re the ones laughing and not crying.” Tears... he shuddered.

“That is such a male thing to say,” she said on a chuckle. “I do enjoy sheading a tear over a good play.”

“Remind me never to escort you to the theatre, then.”

“Why ever not?”

He slung an arm over his eyes. “I don’t think I could survive your tears.” And that was the God’s honest truth. Leonora crying... Just imagining it made his chest constrict.

“Well,” her voice danced with a playful edge, “mostly they were tears of laughter.”

That, Dare could very well also imagine. To laugh until he cried, heh? “I’ve never experienced something that funny before.” A sudden memory filled his head. “Oh, wait. When Knox fell down the stairs one day, I believe I laughed my arse off, then. There might have been tears.”

She chuckled, the sound soft and almost strained, as though the effort of it cost her more than the chuckle itself. She’d be asleep soon. “I wish I could have seen that.”

“Him falling down the stairs?”

“No, you laughing your arse off. I imagine it would be quite the sight.”

He should have known. “I don’t think it was.”

“Hopefully, in the future, I can be the judge of that.”

Hopefully . . . in the future . . . “We shall see.”

“You know, this is the first time I have brought a man to my bed.”

Dare nearly choked. “What an unladylike,” and damn unexpected, “thing to say.”

“I live to shock you.” Another slow chuckle. “Perhaps one day I shall even shock you into tears.”

“Please don’t.” Heat spread through his chest and filled his body. When had he ever just laid next to a woman before? Just... talking. This was a first for him. Something he thought he would never experience.

“Goodnight, Dare.”

His eyes fell on her. She’d drifted off into a slumber, her cheeks still rosy with a bit flush. So damn beautiful. “Good night, temptress.”

Could he ever afford the cost of all the things he had said tonight?