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CHAPTER TWO

She immediately recognized the voice and glanced up to see those emerald eyes shining back at her. “A woman must eat,” she replied in a flat tone.

“I wasn’t aware that proper ladies drank ale in taverns.”

“Who said I was proper?” She took another bite of her stew, pretending his presence didn’t affect her.

He chuckled, and she loved his rich, hearty laugh.

“I suppose I shouldn’t assume.” He caught the barmaid’s attention and then motioned to indicate he wanted what Rebecca was having. “Are you going to tell me your name at least?”

“Why?” Rebecca asked.

“Because I find you interesting.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is that what you tell all the simpering misses to bend them to your will?” she asked, her tone more of a scoff.

“How about you answer my question first, and perhaps I shall tell you.”

“Lady Rebecca Eliot. My father was the Earl of St. Germans.” Something about him was far too intriguing, and as much as she questioned his intentions, she didn’t wish for their conversation to end. “Do I dare ask who you are?”

He grinned at her. “Wish to know what name to use when you dream about me tonight?”

She took a large gulp of her ale as the barmaid set down his stew and tankard. As soon as the woman walked away, Rebecca spoke again. “You think far too highly of yourself.”

The far-too-handsome man shrugged. “Perhaps.” He picked up his spoon and took a bite of stew before narrowing his eyes at her, assessing her as he chewed. Once he swallowed, he gave her a seated, exaggerated bow. “The Earl of Mulgrave, at your service.”

She gasped. It couldn’t be. He was rumored to be one of the most elusive rakes, never to be seen by society, and had never attended the season. The man was known for his scandalous life of travel and women.

“So you are aware of my reputation then,” he said, shaking his head. “The simple-minded society matrons still have nothing better to gossip about?”

“Do they lie, my lord?” she asked, challenging him. From what she’d seen of him already, he’d easily sway any woman into his bed.

He shrugged, then raised his tankard and took a few gulps before setting it back on the table. “I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea what they have said. Have I bedded many women? Yes. Do I have no intention of marrying? Also yes.”

Musgrave fixed his gaze on her, watching her reaction. Somehow, he appeared even more dangerous to her, in the most exciting of ways.

If he expected her to react, he would be disappointed. Men like him enjoyed playing on women’s sensibilities. Instead, she took a bite of her stew and waited for him to speak again.

“And what brings you to an inn all alone?” he asked.

“I am returning home to Derbyshire. I have had more than enough of the season.”

He raised his tankard in agreement and then downed the rest of the contents. “I found one should just avoid attending altogether.”

“We find ourselves on the same side of that point, my lord.”

He huffed. “None of this ‘my lord’ shite. Call me by my given name, Harrison.”

“Wouldn’t that be quite improper?”

Harrison smirked at her. “Who said you were proper?”

She couldn’t help but grin at him. He was quite charming and witty.

Traits she enjoyed in a man. Life would be far too boring to spend with a dull man.

Why was she thinking about such silly notions?

They may have shared a meal and had enjoyable banter, but he wasn’t a man that anyone would spend their life with.

Hadn’t he just said the very thing, in fact?

“Very well,” she said, caving under his stare. “Harrison, then.”

“My name sounds good on your lips, Angel.”

His tone was flirtatious and one that was foreign to her.

She clenched her thighs together as the place where they met ached and pulsated the more time she spent in his presence.

Rebecca allowed herself to imagine throwing herself across the table at him and straddling him where she sat.

She knew enough about coupling with a man to know the mechanics of it and what went where, but she wasn’t certain where such wanton thoughts had come from.

“I believe I am ready for my bed,” she said, rising from her chair, scared of what she might do if she remained near him for much longer.

“At least allow me to ensure you reach your door unharmed,” he said, also rising from his chair and extending his arm to her.

She eyed his arm. The act was far too gentlemanly compared to the behavior he’d displayed thus far, and she wasn’t certain if she could trust his intentions.

“You are right to be cautious,” he said, seemingly understanding her hesitation. “But I assure you, the women who have warmed my bed have come willingly. I might be a rake, as I am certain they refer to me, but I haven’t lost all my gentlemanly principles.”

He gave her a lopsided grin, and her heart flipped inside of her chest. Harrison was far too handsome, and of course he wouldn’t take an interest in her. She was just a plain spinster.

Rebecca took his arm, and he led them up the stairs. She said nothing, partly disappointed at how attracted she was to the man beside her and knowing he’d never feel even a tenth of the same as she did. He wasn’t wrong when he suggested she’d dream of him as he was likely correct on that point.

“Is something troubling you?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

He glanced over at her, but she kept her eyes trained forward, her skin heating where we watched her. They reached her door, but before she could open it, he spun her to face him.

And before she knew what he was doing, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Harrison ran his tongue along the seam of her lips and she opened for him, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth until he was using it to massage her tongue with his.

She wasn’t certain how she had gone six-and-twenty years without experiencing the feeling of a kiss. It was just a taste, a tease. And when he pulled back, the kiss had ended far too quickly for her liking. Rebecca longed for more. Much more.

“I knew you’d taste sweet,” he whispered. “Good night, Angel.”

He opened her chamber door for her and then walked away without another word. She closed her door and turned to find Maggie sitting in a chair, waiting for her. Rebecca inwardly groaned as she couldn’t process her warring emotions and feelings while Maggie was present.

She allowed Maggie to help ready her for bed, going through the motions and doing whatever was needed until she was dressed in her night rail, with her hair fixed into a loose plait over one shoulder.

Once Maggie had departed, Rebecca slumped into the chair and stared into the flame of the candle on the table beside her. Her body hummed, more alive than it had ever been. The place between her legs still throbbed and there was a dampness that had slickened her thighs.

Rebecca brought her fingers to her lips. She hadn’t imagined the kiss, had she? Glancing at the wall that separated her chamber from Harrison’s, she wondered what he was doing. Had he removed his shirt as she had found him earlier?

A wide grin formed on her face when a wicked thought crossed her mind.

She could just sneak next door and have one perfect night with a notorious rake.

If he had kissed her, he at least found her somewhat attractive, right?

And she no longer had a reputation to preserve. She was free to do as she desired.

Her expression shifted to a deep frown when she considered the alternative. He could reject her request. But he was a rake, wasn’t he? Weren’t rakes known for regularly enjoying the company of a woman in their beds?

She rose from her chair and began pacing her chamber. Could she just walk next door and seduce a rake?

The next morning, she’d depart for her country home, and at least if she had a night with Harrison—even thinking his given name made her core throb harder—she’d have a wonderful memory to hold onto before she settled into her simple life as a spinster.

Drawing a deep breath, she grabbed her dressing robe and quickly slipped her arms into the sleeves before tying the front closed. She had decided. She would go to him before she might change her mind. If he should refuse her, at least no one would know about it. She hoped, anyway.

Rebecca crept out of her room, closed her door behind her, then hurried to Harrison’s chamber door. She paused for a moment but turned the doorknob before she could talk herself out of crossing the threshold of his chamber.

As soon as she entered, she caught sight of him sitting in the same chair, almost in the exact same position she’d found him the first time. He was staring into the fire, lost in thought.

She quietly closed his chamber door and somehow found her voice and whispered his name. “Harrison.”