Page 12 of The Wallflower’s Great Escape (The Wallflowers’ Revolt #1)

I t was nearly midnight, and Jason stood behind the Chadwicks’ grand, yet rundown town house, his boots scuffing through the dust near the mews, and wondered for the dozenth time what the hell he was doing here.

The night air was cool, damp, and smelled faintly of horse and coal smoke, though it was quiet enough back here to hear his own thoughts, which was unfortunate, because his thoughts had been nothing but trouble all week.

He shouldn’t have come.

He knew he shouldn’t have come.

And yet, here he was.

He checked his timepiece again, the moonlight just bright enough to catch the hands, two minutes before midnight.

Georgiana’s note—hastily scribbled, the folds creased as though she’d written it standing up—had arrived earlier that day.

Meet me at midnight at the mews behind my father’s house.

Jason had stared at the note far longer than he cared to admit.

Ill-advised. Reckless. Wrong, even.

And yet he’d found himself here at the appointed place and time without so much as pausing to question why she would want to see him.

Jason shoved his hands into his coat pockets and let out a breath, his eyes on the back door of the town house.

He might not be entirely certain what she wanted to say to him, but he had something to discuss with her . He was planning to ask her what she’d meant—at the Cranberrys’—when she’d said he had no idea of the scandal she was capable of.

Those blasted words had haunted him all week.

He’d told himself the next morning that he would stay away from her. No more balls, no more lurking near pillars, no more cornering her in corridors. But far from being successful at it, he’d become even worse, following her around each day.

She never seemed to be doing much, just errands, and shopping, and an odd choice of reading once.

But each morning, he found himself scanning the pages of the Times , half-expecting—no, dreading —to see her name splashed there in some sordid column about ruined debutantes and broken engagements.

There had been nothing.

For a full sennight.

But instead of feeling relief, he’d felt suspicion.

He knew she was up to something.

So tonight, instead of merely following her about, he’d finally given in to the impulse that had been gnawing at him. He would ask her plainly what she was planning.

Even if she refused to tell him outright, he suspected that he would be able to tell from the look in her eyes whether he needed to worry. Her eyes were so expressive.

Damn it. He shouldn’t be thinking about her eyes. He muttered another curse under his breath and scuffed his boot again in the dust, wondering—again—what the devil he was doing out here at midnight, waiting for a woman who, by all accounts, didn’t want him anywhere near her.

The faint creak of a door broke through his thoughts.

And then…she appeared, bolting through the back door, actually, skirts hitched, dark hair gleaming faintly in the moonlight. Her were cheeks flushed and her eyes darted over the courtyard until they landed on him.

“Lord Pembroke,” she said breathlessly, and the sound of her voice did something to his insides that he didn’t want to examine too closely.

He straightened, tugging his cuffs as though to mask how fast his pulse had jumped at the sight of her. “My lady,” he said with forced calm.

She dropped her skirts and strode toward him, her hands on her hips. “You’re early,” she accused.

“You’re late,” he replied evenly. “And this is a strange place for a meeting.”

Her lips curved into a wry smile. “I couldn’t very well have you knock on the door and ask for me.”

That startled a faint laugh out of him, though he caught himself quickly. “You’re right, I suppose,” Jason murmured. “Though I must admit, I’m somewhat surprised that you asked me to meet you.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Yes, well, I must ask you a question. And I wasn’t entirely sure that you intended to continue following me about town.”

Jason inclined his head. “I merely?—”

First, she held up a hand to stop him, then she crossed her arms on her chest and met his gaze. “Do you or do you not plan to continue watching me?”

He blinked rapidly before narrowing his eyes on her. “Why does that question make me think that I should?”

“I need to know,” she told him.

He drew himself up, squared his shoulders, and met her gaze directly. “Fine then. Allow me to ask a question of my own.”

She seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding. “Very well.”

“I want to know,” he said, his voice low and even, “what you meant when you told me I had no idea the scandal you’re capable of.”

For just a beat, she blinked at him. Then her lips curved into a sharp little smile. “ Why do you want to know?” she asked archly.

Jason hesitated, then said the first truth that came to mind. “Would you believe me,” he said slowly, “if I said I was worried about you?”

She snorted softly. “Worried about me?” But the look on her face told him she was considering whether she could actually believe him.

“Yes,” he answered.

She cocked her head. “Not worried about my brother and the favor you owe him?”

Jason shook his head. “Honestly, no.”

That seemed to surprise her. Her eyes narrowed further, searching his face as though weighing the truth of his words. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Very well,” she said at last. “I don’t know why…but for some reason, I believe you.”

Jason let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’ll tell you what I meant,” she said, her tone changing, turning sly, “on two, no… three conditions.” She bit her lip, her eyes sparkling.

His brow arched. “Conditions?” he drawled.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“What are they?”

“One,” she said, holding up a single finger, “you promise not to tell any member of my family what I say.”

“Agreed,” he replied without hesitation. “I promise.”

She tilted her head again, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“The second?” he prompted, already skeptical.

She lifted her chin. “You promise to stop watching me, stop following me.”

Jason clenched his jaw. He wanted to stop watching her.

Had tried even. Oh, very well. He supposed making the promise was what he just might need to stop.

“Agreed,” he said. “And the third condition?” He watched her closely as if she might do something unpredictable at any moment.

Given her past actions, it wasn’t an unreasonable thought.

Her lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. “You give me,” she said softly, “a completely indecent kiss.” She paused for a beat. “Right now.”

Jason stared at her.

And for the first time in years, he found himself utterly speechless.