Reforming the Rake. Sarah Barnwell Elliott

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СКАЧАТЬ John was just one house away, and he was already beginning to slow the carriage. Unfortunately, Beatrice was paying more attention to reaching the street quickly than descending the stairs carefully. At the final step she tripped. Her gloves went flying and Beatrice herself hurtled straight at an innocent passerby.

       Chapter Four

       C harles had walked briskly home from the ball, debating how to spend the rest of his evening. Typically, he would have met with friends at his club, perhaps later wandering out to a party—although not the sort hosted by the likes of Lady Teasdale. Tonight, however, he hadn’t quite known what to do with himself. He’d felt too restless simply to end the night at his mother’s house, but at the same time the thought of spending yet another evening at White’s hadn’t satisfied him, either.

      Charles had still been pondering his plans for the evening as he approached his home, head down and hands buried in his pockets. That’s why he hadn’t seen her coming.

      The girl in the yellow dress—which, by the way, was no longer yellow—had come tearing down his neighbor’s front steps, and with no ceremony other than a startled squeal, had crashed into him full on, sending both of them flying to the pavement.

      For a moment Charles just lay there, stunned. He didn’t move. He was flat on his back and the girl was stretched across him, equally still. The wind had been knocked out of him, but that wasn’t why he stayed motionless. No, for just a moment, he appreciated the novelty of the situation and pondered whether his luck had suddenly changed for the better.

      The girl began to sit up. “Oh, I am so sorry,” she murmured. “This is entirely my fault. I am terribly clumsy, you see, and if only I weren’t so late…. Here, let me help you up.”

      She was quite a bit smaller than Charles, and he wasn’t sure how she proposed to help him. When she tried to rise, she sent her elbow into his chest. Despite himself, he grunted in pain.

      She held herself very still once more. “Oh, I am sorry.”

      He placed his hands on her arms. “You’ve already said so. Let’s see if we can’t rectify this situation.” With that, he gently rolled her to one side and sat up. He held out a hand and helped her into a sitting position, as well.

      For a moment, she stared at him in surprise.

      Charles gazed back, and in the silence that ensued, he looked his fill. Up close, he could see the fine details that had been denied him earlier that afternoon: the pale golden streaks in her blond hair, the veins of amber in her velvety brown eyes and the faint hint of freckles running across the bridge of her nose. Other than those freckles, her skin was fair and smooth as cream, and where that skin faded into the rich gold fabric of her gown, just above her breasts… Charles’s mouth went dry.

      Young debutantes almost always wore white, and he found himself unconsciously calculating her age and situation once more. She still looked hardly much older than twenty, but she could be married at that age. And yet…she looked so innocent, her slender brows arched in surprise over those gorgeous brown eyes. Charles knew that she was looking at him with an interest to match his own, and his gaze was drawn to her mouth—her beautiful mouth—parted slightly in shock. Her lips were wide, full and delicately pink, and he knew in that instant that he would kiss them.

      Not at that very moment, of course, but soon.

      “Do you need any assistance, Miss Sinclair?” her coachman called as he stopped in front of the house.

      The spell was broken. She looked up at her driver and smiled weakly. “I’m fine, John…just rushing a bit too much yet again.”

      “Yes, my lady,” he said, biting his tongue to hold back his laughter.

      Beatrice turned around to face Charles, wondering who he was. He’d hardly uttered a word, but the way he was looking at her immediately put her on her guard. Oh, he was clearly a gentleman, dressed impeccably in a snug fitting velvet coat and snowy cravat, but as for being a gentleman…he was far too heart-stoppingly handsome for that. His intense green-eyed gaze wandered over her body without reserve, and every one of his wicked thoughts was written in the appreciative curve of his lips.

      Beatrice cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “I know I’ve already said as much, but I am terribly sorry. I’m in such a rush to get somewhere that I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s just that I’m supposed to meet my aunt, and she can be a bit…unpleasant…when peeved.”

      His wicked eyes met hers with curiosity. “Who is your aunt, if you don’t mind my asking?”

      “Lady Louisa Sinclair—”

      He began to cough.

      Beatrice just grinned and continued. “Truly, she’s not that bad, despite what you may have heard.”

      “It’s not a matter of hearsay, Miss…Sinclair, was it?”

      “Oh! I beg your pardon—I haven’t introduced myself. I am Beatrice Sinclair.”

      Charles smiled and rose, extending his hand to help her rise. He should really introduce himself, as well, but he preferred to keep the upper hand for the moment. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Sinclair—we shouldn’t sit on the pavement for too long, I suppose. And by the way, I grew up next door to your aunt, and I know for certain that she deserves every bit of her reputation. If we lost a ball over her fence when we were little, we never got it back.”

      “Really?”

      “Yes. I think she ate them.”

      Beatrice giggled, relaxing. “She’s not so fond of children, is all. I wish she had some of her own because maybe then she’d give me some peace.” Charles raised a questioning eyebrow, and she went on to explain, “You see, my aunt’s taken me under her wing, of sorts, for the season.”

      “This is your first season?”

      “Hardly. I hate to admit it, but this is my fourth season.” Beatrice blushed, immediately wishing she hadn’t revealed the exact number of years. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t mean to bore you with the details. I always talk too much—that’s why I’m always late. Anyway, I really should get going. I’m supposed to be at a ball with my aunt—I’m actually the only reason that she went at all, so it goes to show that I really ought to be there, hadn’t I?” She knew she was babbling, but couldn’t stop herself. The way he was looking at her—part curious and part something else—flustered her completely.

      “Is it Lady Teasdale’s ball you’re missing?” Charles asked.

      “Yes—have you been? Was it dreadful?”

      An approving smile spread across his face. “Indeed, and I must say that you’re not missing much.”

      She smiled back regretfully. “I didn’t reckon that I was, but I really have no choice.”

      He was silent for a moment. His eyes slowly traveled down the length of her body. Every inch of her skin felt hot and tight under his gaze, and her stomach almost dropped to her knees at his next words.

      “Perhaps we can think up a better alternative?”

      For an instant, Beatrice was completely lost in his green eyes, unable СКАЧАТЬ