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

L eonora surveyed the crowd with sharp eyes. She should be attending tonight, shouldn’t she? Although the Duchess of Crane still wore black, that hadn’t stopped her from attending events, which made her the talk of the ton . A mysterious widow shrouded in questions. Questions like was she so in love with the late duke that she would never again wear color? Was she mourning something else? Did she just enjoy the way she looked in black?

Leonora also wondered about this.

Why did the duchess still wear black? Some rumors suggested she’d worn black for some years before the duke’s passing, as well. Leonora couldn’t fathom wearing the same color over and over, year after year. But then, she didn’t know the duchess’s past or present. If she was who Leonora expected she was, this woman had also abandoned her as a child.

She absentmindedly plucked the leaf of the potted plant next to her. Leonora honestly didn’t know how to feel if this turned out to be the case. She’d long ago come to terms with what her family had done. And they had not abandoned her. No matter in what capacity, they had remained in her life.

The duchess could have a valid reason . . .

But some things were inexcusable. Even so, pure curiosity drove her to discover the layers beneath the carefully guarded and yet so carelessly exposed secret. Though, to be fair, no one had meant to expose anything that day. They had only been unguarded when discussing the matter among themselves, never thinking Leonora could hear them. However, it didn’t change the nature of what she faced.

Secrets within a secret.

She wanted to crack open every last one.

Heart would be perfectly happy to help her marry her prince and live a life worthy of a fairy tale. But how could she, in good conscience, drag a prince into their web of secrets? Secrets that might ruin everyone they touched if they were ever exposed. And there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t be. Not that she ever planned to expose anything beyond her family, but if Calstone could comment on an uncanny resemblance, others may as well. And one unguarded conversation had already been overheard.

There were no absolutes here.

She could never do that to someone outside the secret. At least not without their knowledge.

“Spying, I see.”

Leonora turned to a grinning Dare. Tonight, he wore a blue jacket, made striking because it matched the color of his eyes. It made him look impossibly dashing and utterly sinful. Be it all as it may, flirting and living in the moment were good, too. “I am observing. Spying would imply I’m looking for something particular, and at the moment, I am not.”

“Ah, the nuances of small details.” He came to stand beside her. “Even I could feel the burn of your gaze, and you’re not looking at me.”

Was she that obvious? “It’s not that bad.”

He just continued to smile. “She will be arriving soon. The duchess.”

Leonora shot him a skeptical glance. “How do you know?”

“I saw her carriage arrive as I entered.”

Ah. “Keen eye.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Spying—observing—won’t help you find the information you seek.”

Thank you, Dare. “I’m very aware of that. I’m merely observing for the time being.”

“Has your mother returned home yet?”

She shook her head. “No. Apparently, according to a missive she sent Heart, she and my father are still in Wales.”

“And the plot thickens again.”

“Quite so.” She sniffed the air surrounding him, trying to place the scent that had wafted in with him.

“What?” He looked down to sniff his clothes. “Do I smell bad?”

“Not bad, no.” Rather rugged and masculine, though, which was different from his usual refined scent. She quite liked this one. It felt more true to the man. “But I sense a bit of smoke, and this is the first time you’ve ever smelled like that.”

“Oh?” His brow took on a smoldering waggle. “And what do I smell like at other times?”

This was why one should never compliment a rake. She shrugged. “Cheap comments.”

His brow fell. “Should I be erudite and point out that comments can’t smell?”

“Can’t they? They are mixed with your breath, are they not?”

“Are you saying my breath smells?” He cupped a hand at his mouth and sniffed. “Lies.”

“Well, if nothing else, your breath should smell of smoke, just like you. Assuming it was you smoking, of course.”

The brow lifted again. “There is one way for you to find out.”

Leonora turned him, meeting his gaze. Lord, her heart. “Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?”

He leaned in close. “What do you think I’m suggesting?”

She leaned in a bit farther, too. “Sniffing your mouth.”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “That would be a first.” He slowly smoothed his thumb over his lower lip, as though he was soothing an itch. Leonora bit down on hers.

Although his smile didn’t slip, his gaze suddenly took on a weight that threatened to drag a person deep into the depths of a world unknown.

A shiver skittered down her spine.

The cry of a bird followed by the flapping of wings startled her from the daze the man had cloaked her in. She glanced in the direction of a huge blue-and-red bird that had invaded the ballroom. It cried out again, this time following its cry with the squawked words, “The earl is an idiot, the earl is an idiot.”

“What in the world...” All around, people gushed about the new arrival and its tart beak.

“What the devil is that?” Dare asked in wonder.

“A bird...” Leonora murmured, watching as it settled on a pillar a short distance away.

“I can see it’s a bird. I mean what is it doing in the ballroom?”

“It must have escaped from its cage. I’m envious.”

Dare gave her a curious look. “Wishing to break free from a cage, Lady Leonora?”

“Of sorts.” It was more like she wished to break free from a family secret and claim her true identity. But Leonora knew she could never do that.

“Is there even a cage that can hold you?” He glanced at the bird, and muttered, “Or that thing, for that matter.”

Leonora suddenly sympathized with the big, colorful bird. It had escaped one prison only to fly into another, just a little larger. “The whole world is our cage.”

A snort of laughter. “Very dramatic.”

The corners of her lips twitched.

“It’s some sort of parrot, isn’t it?” Dare murmured.

Leonora nodded. “I believe so. Very pretty.”

His arm brushed hers, a casual touch that lingered just enough to be noticed. “Not as pretty as you.”

Leonora snorted, but her heart couldn’t help but give a little dance at the compliment. You are so easy, Leonora! One compliment and you are preening like that parrot!

“The earl is an idiot, the earl is an idiot,” the parrot cried.

“His beak is not so pretty,” Leonora said.

“Agreed.” Dare pointed at a plump, mottled-faced man amidst the crowd. The Earl of Plummington, their host.

So then... “The earl’s pet is calling him an idiot?”

“It seems so.” Dare chuckled, and Leonora’s gaze followed his to a woman snickering behind a fan. “I would guess the countess had a hand in this.”

Oh dear. “How utterly devious. Why would she do something so . . . so . . .”

“Underhanded, not to mention humiliating to her husband?” Dare finished her sentence. “First, you must ask what he has done to her.”

“Do you know?” Leonora asked with curiosity.

He shook his head. “But since your friends caused such a scandal by releasing copies of White’s betting book, all sorts of odd things have happened all across London.”

“Well, good for the countess, then.”

Dare grinned, nodding his approval. “Are you joining the festivities at Huntington Manor tomorrow?”

“Oh, you mean the picnic beside their lake? I hadn’t planned on going, no.”

“Pity. I have it on good authority that the duchess is attending.”

“And what good authority is this? Don’t tell me you have spies in her household!”

He laughed. “Saints, no. Nothing like that. I overheard some chatter.”

“Chatter cannot be considered a good authority.”

“If that’s not good authority, I don’t know what is.”

Leonora laughed, her attention once again drawn to the parrot’s loud cry. She froze when it seemed to look straight at her.

She grabbed Dare’s arm. “Am I mistaken, or is the parrot looking at us?”

“Don’t be absurd. How can the bird be...” he cocked his head, “looking at us...”

“Perhaps it’s attracted to your blue jacket.”

Dare glanced down at his clothes. “Well, if it is, it’s got fabulous taste.”

What a peacock statement!

The bird suddenly launched from the pillar and took a path directly at them.

What on earth!

*

Dare had never been so mortified, petrified, and horrified at the same time in all his life. Of all the heads in the ballroom, why the blazes had the parrot chosen him ? All he wanted was his nightly dose of sunshine, and this damn bird seemed determined to ruin that for him.

Talons threatened to claw at him, as the flap of the bird’s wings sent a gust through his hair.

What is this bird’s problem?

He swatted at the thing, dodging its attempt to use him as the sitting post. Why did it have to be so big? And bright. Dare squinted at the loathsome thing. Had Leonora been right? Was the thing attracted to his jacket?

Preposterous.

Dare shooed the bird away when it aimed to land on his shoulder. Or was it his head the thing was after? “Damn it!”

Leonora laughed, stepping away from him with wide eyes. “Just let it land on you!”

“On my dead body, sure,” Dare bit out, sidestepping the crazy thing, “but not while I am breathing.”

All the fascinated eyes that had followed the bird from the beginning were now fixed on this damn scene. On him. Them.

Another burst of laughter. “What did you do?”

Dare gave another swat. “What do you mean what did I do?”

“I remember reading somewhere that birds remember when someone has wronged them.”

“Hogwash.” Dare retreated several steps in hopes the bird would give up on him and choose another target. “I did nothing to this blasted creature.”

Dare glared at the temptress standing off to the side, hand covering her mouth as she tried her best not to burst into peals of laughter right in his face. This was what a man got for chasing the sun.

The bird loomed over him like a bad omen. The price he paid for being greedy.

“Hand me your fan,” Dare demanded.

“My fan? I don’t like to carry one. What would you even do with it?” She stepped forward and held out her arm so that the bird could settle there, and to Dare’s astonishment, the bird changed course.

His face went blank. This colorful monster would bloody Lady Leonora’s milky-pale skin with its claws! Dare sidestepped to block the bird’s path to her arm, shoving his shoulder at the thing instead.

There! If you want to land somewhere, use me.

The bird accepted his offer and settled on his shoulder. Dare stilled as the bird’s feet clenched around his shoulder. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the strength of its talons through his clothes.

Leonora blinked at him with wide eyes.

It was then that Dare realized that he and Lady Leonora were tangled up in each other. Not in an obvious way but, then again, perhaps too obvious in the eyes of their audience if one were to consider it from another perspective. One of her hands had grabbed hold of his when he’d blocked the bird, the other settled on his chest.

Dare stared into sparkling blue eyes, forgetting entirely about the bird. “You’re staring, Lady Leonora.”

“You’re staring too, Lord Dare.”

“The earl’s an idiot!” the bird cried.

He flinched.

Ah, yes. He was an idiot. Perhaps the biggest idiot in all of London. Because right at this moment, with a damn bird on his shoulder and her so near to him, he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want her hand to leave him. Not even for the sake of propriety. And that scared the hell out of him.

“Everyone is staring at us.” He hadn’t looked away from her, but a marble statue would be able to feel all the stares on them.

Regrettably, her hand fell away from his chest, and she took a step back, clearing her throat and patting her cheeks. A horse bursting into the hall right now would be less obvious. Her gaze flicked between him and the bird. “Shall we just blame the parrot?”

“Naturally, it’s the parrot’s fault. Speaking of which,” he deepened his voice and called across the ballroom, “can our hosts please come to collect their bird?”

“The earl is an idiot!”

Dare scowled. “I’m a rake, not an idiot.” Should he just shrug this bright mass off his shoulder? Its talons were beginning to bite into his shoulder, and the thing wasn’t light. More importantly, its beak was huge. If it decided to nip at him, it was going to hurt. A lot.

Leonora’s bubble of laughter finally spilled over. “This is most amusing. You know, most men won’t refer to themselves as rakes. They just are .”

“I’m not most rakes.”

She shook her head. “I cannot refute that.”

He could feel the creature turn its beady eyes on him. “I’m going to ring this bird’s neck if it calls me an idiot one more time.”

“Oh, come now. The bird isn’t calling you an idiot.”

“I’m an earl, and it’s on my shoulder. It now feels as if I’m the idiot.” He was feeling a lot more than an idiot at the moment. He felt hot, too. And it was a heat that spread from his chest in all directions in his body. He hadn’t felt this hot in a long, long time. He couldn’t look away from her, the way her face brightened in amusement at his expense, that lovely face making everything in him twist.

“But you are not the earl,” she reassured even though it didn’t sound all that reassuring.

His gaze finally left her and swept their audience in search of their host, who had yet to show his face. “Do you think this will matter to the gossip rags? You should leave before you get dragged into the headlines as well.”

“I fear it might be too late for that,” she said, amused. “I didn’t know you cared about the gossip sheets so much.”

“I don’t care for myself,” Dare said, trying very hard to ignore the parrot shaking out it’s feathers on his shoulder. “I care that you might be ridiculed.”

She inched closer to him, directing a smile at the parrot before her eyes landed on him. “Ah, my heart just skipped a beat.”

This minx. Damn if a beat of his heart didn’t skip, too. “Devil take it, what the hell do we do now?” A quick sweep of the room confirmed all the hushed titters had calmed somewhat.

“There is nothing else to do. All we can do is be swept along by whatever gossip erupts until it dies down. Which is quite thrilling. And quite the moment. Dashing off now will only make it worse,” Leonora pointed out.

“Only you would call this thrilling.” Where the hell were their hosts? His gaze caught on one particular figure staring at them. “And don’t look now, but the duchess has arrived and is staring at our debacle.”

A sparkle entered her gaze. “She is?”

“Don’t look,” Dare hissed beneath his teeth when she started to turn her head, “or she will know we are talking about her.”

She shot him a sulky glance. “But I want to look.”

“Try to hold back the urge,” Dare said, swallowing a laugh. “You might benefit from practicing a bit of self-restraint. Unless you want her to know?”

Her lips puckered in a brief pout before settling back into place. “No, you are right. I want to observe for now without raising any suspicion.”

Dare watched her fight the desire to blatantly turn her head and search for the woman in question. His amusement at her expression slowly faded his annoyance at continuing to be the center of attention in a ballroom with a parrot on his shoulder.

“Lord, it’s hard,” she sighed.

“Lord?” a voice boomed, causing them both to flinch. “It’s good that you know to pray. You’ll need your prayers after tonight, Leonora.”

Dare turned to Heart, who had a murderous look on his face. The man also looked tired, Dare noticed, as though he had endured trial after trial—the kind forged in the pits of hell. Dare inwardly sighed but lifted his lips into a smile. “Nothing to see here, Heart. Just a bit of a pickle.”

“Says the man with a parrot on his shoulder and bird shite on his back.”

Dare’s smile slipped. The bird had done what?

He glanced at Lady Leonora who inspected his clothing, gasping when she stepped around him. The titters grew louder.

Bloody wonderful.

“Fiction or fact?” he asked Lady Leonora.

“A big, white, scattered fact.”

Dare finally turned his head to glare at the bird. Some things, like this infernal creature, belonged in a cage, or in a damn habitat better suited to its noisy, insufferable existence.

Beady eyes stared back at him.

Calm.

Unruffled.

You damn feathered blackguard . Where, in what life, did a parrot shite on a man in a damn ballroom? Had fate or luck or whatever higher power existed above him finally forsaken him?

“Plummington!” Dare roared. “Come get your damn bird!”

Then the thing opened its beak again. “I’m a rake, not an idiot. I’m a rake, not an idiot.”

Bloody hell.