Page 9 of The Rake is Taken
She grunted, then wished she could call it back when his smile bolstered around the edges. What he preferred was a giggling bundle waiting behind a sealed bedchamber door.Tori? How common. She recalled a shopgirl in Haymarket who called herself thus. Her mother would loathe it.Vulgar, Victoria could just hear her say. The dart of pleasure that raced through her as she imagined that was absurd but unmistakable.
“I like the one you’ve chosen for me,” he added. “Quite succinct and leaves off the insulting second morsel the ton loves to emphasize.”
Blue. Yes, she had called him that. Twice, as she recollected. She yanked at her hand, deciding she wasn’t the only quick-witted one. “I must tell you, I preferred the reprobate.”
“Me, too. He’s considerablyeasier to live with.” Finn laughed, releasing her hand and taking the appropriate step back. “Never fear us finding common ground, Tori. I have a rainbow of secrets, one in every color. There must be crossover somewhere. You simply have to decide to share yours with me in return.”
The moment drew out, suspended, an irretrievable step into a world, a part of herself, she had long denied. “Secrets bind us, meaning I should trust you because of them? Because you know about my parlor trick?”
Those arresting eyes of his sliced up, pinning her where she stood. “No, oh, no. Secrets are a chasm, a breach to cross. A complication. The parlor trick is why you belong in my world, which makes sense now that I know about your gift.” His throat muscles rippled as he swallowed, drawing her gaze to the provocative sliver of skin exposed by his open collar. “I thought you understood. You should trust me because of the dreams.”
She tripped into his gaze as the night closed in, sealing her in a hushed space where her pulse drummed, her breath caught, and this impossible, appealing man sought to lead her somewhere she wasn’t sure she wanted to go. Sinking back, she grasped the edge of the desk and squeezed until her fingers throbbed.
“Mine have been full of you for months until I’m compelled, most earnestly, to ask you to give me time—at Harbingdon—to figure out why. My dreams, I will tell you from experience,meansomething.”
She palmed her stomach, her pulse jumping through layers of cloth to bump against her fingertips. Her dreams were surprisingly informative, particulars he might not want to accept once she exposed them. “If I go…”
“Enlightenment.” He cocked his head, thoughtful, then entertained, she could see by the turn of his lips. A contained bit of theatrics. “About some things, in any case.”
“Your secrets,” she whispered, having no idea why this is what she said when there were so many questions she could have asked. Should have asked. Oh, she was as foolish as the rest of the flock when he’d stated in definite terms he wasn’t one of her puzzles. But the extreme paradox of Finn Alexander—intelligence hidden behind astounding splendor hidden behind a gaze laden with contradictions—persuaded in a way she couldn’t deny.
He stilled, shooting her a sidelong glance, the insinuation nothing her mind could determine, but her body…betrayer, warmed until she felt her cheeks sting, the skin beneath her bodice dampen. “Perhaps a trade will someday make itself known. My confidences in exchange for yours.” He shrugged a wide shoulder beneath wrinkled linen. “Like the Rossby conundrum, there could be worse arrangements.”
Curiosity drilled her to the bone. The one aspect of her personality that held sway above the pragmatism hammered into any aristocratic female from the time they were in leading strings. She was an inquisitive woman in an era when inquisitive women were neither appreciated nor admired.
He’d either made a grave error in judgment or a fantastically intelligent one by hooking her as nothing else could, presenting himself and this trip to his family’s country estate as a mystery.
She knew little about him, while he’d directed her to reveal much about herself.
He knew about her parlor trick, the reckless kisses behind pillars, the dreaded engagement, her family’s finances. With a sinking feeling, she realized she’d done the opposite of what she’d been coached to do, disclosing graceless personal information in uncouth fashion, while the man standing across from her, a byblow accepted because his brother, Viscount Beauchamp, demanded it, sailed his ship through treacherous waters with nary a tremor. Adroitly managing an assemblage set to gut him should he turn his back on them.
She threw a glance at his bedchamber door. Attraction wasn’t the reason he’d been following her, which had been senseless to imagine for onemomentas the line of women volunteering for the job stretched from here to Westminster.
He tipped her chin with a long, slim finger until her eyes met his. “Nothing sordid is connected to this invitation. You’ll be under Julian and Piper’s protection the entire time. Undermyprotection, should you be able to place value on it.”
She drew back from his touch and lied without hesitation, “I never imagined it did.”
“Consider this. Perhaps I can help you decipher your parlor trick. As a friend.”
She felt her brow pinch.Friend?
His deep laughter brought her out of her deliberation. “It’s possible, Tori. Or so I’ve been told.”
“I’ve never had many friends. My brother, I suppose, but…”
His expression shifted, softening around the edges. “They’re nice to have. Especially for those of us with, for lack of a more precise designation, interesting quirks to our persona. This sojourn provides the added benefit of a duke in residence, should he be entertaining the appalling notion of matrimony. At the very least, a country gathering with such esteemed members of society will be a boon for you rather than a set down. My participation omitted, of course. Or at least not emphasized any more than it need be.”
Finn continued to watch her in his lazily penetrating way, as a violent gust shook the windowpanes and sent the hearth fire snapping. He didn’t press, corner, or urge, giving her time to make her decision, a blessing no one had previously bestowed on her. In her world, freedom and friendship were almost nonexistent.
Maybe he could answer some of the questions about herquirk. And introduction to a duke in need of a wife was never wasted effort, she supposed. Her mother would undoubtedly agree to delaying the dreaded wedding to Rossby with such an opportunity having landed in their laps. More time to figure out another solution to her family’s dilemma.
As she stood there mulling the invitation, Victoria knew she’d accept.
Although her foolhardy fascination with solving the mystery of the Blue Bastard surely meant she shouldn’t.
Chapter 3
Victoria peered from the window of the aging post-chaise as it settled with a squeal before the Beauchamp country estate, a sprawling chalk-brick manor surrounded by breathtaking lawns and miles of vast woodland that seemed to separate it from the rest of the world. Summer arrived differently here than it did in the city, and her gaze followed the scent of gardenias, roses, and daffodils to the blooming thicket lining the pebbled drive.