May I keep it?"
What was the snake trying to do, turn her up sweet? Rowanne was not about to let any practiced flirt cause her one more ounce of anguish, not even if her fingers itched to push that black curl off his forehead. She took refuge in anger.
"What is the difference if you have one more thing that belongs to me? You have stolen my dignity."
He raised one eyebrow. "How is that, Miss Wimberly? No one knows, no one shall ever know, and I'll be gone tomorrow. Meanwhile you were the perfect lady in there, helping that silly chit and then walking out as imperious as a queen while they all stared. No one has robbed anything from you." Then a different kind of light shone in his eyes. "But since you have accused me, I am minded to steal another memory to take back with me to cherish."
Rowanne hurriedly looked about her person. A ribbon? Her fan? Dear heavens, she did not want Gabe coming upon them and having to challenge this unprincipled libertine to a duel. She did not want another scene, and she did not want him staring at her with that devilish gleam that made her toes curl in her slippers.
"It's only a kiss I want to steal," he murmured, matching action to words like the military man he was, taking her gently in his arms and bringing their lips together. It was a moment of such bursting radiance that Rowanne forgot her toes, forgot her brother, forgot that she was spreading more raspberry stains on his unmentionables where they were touching her body in the most interesting manner.
Only a kiss?
Chapter Eleven
« ^ »
V engeance is mine, sayeth the Lord… and every woman who thinks her affections have been trifled with by a handsome rogue. Carey's left cheek was as red as the stains on his pants, but if Rowanne had known it, her revenge would have been that much sweeter, for Carey was as stunned by the kiss as she was. What he meant to take by thievery became instead a gift, and the warm memory he thought to carry away became a firebrand searing itself into his very being. Captain Delverson was shaken. Either that or she had permanently addled his brain with the resounding slap before leaving the little room.
Carey stayed where he was for her reputation's sake, if not the five-fingers mark on his face. Hell, he'd received worse wounds with less reward. He searched out the butler's private stock and settled back to wait.
Miss Grimble thought Rowanne was still upset about her gown and their dashed hopes for a match between Gabriel and Miss Worthington, so did not get alarmed at her charge's lack of color or conversation. The companion was too busy trying to work the evening's rump and riot into chapter twenty-seven.
Gabriel thought it was oddly ill-tempered of his sister to hold an unreasonable grudge against Delverson; the chap had been everything amiable, as far as Gabe could see. Delverson had taken command of the awful situation, giving orders to the servants, organizing a tactical retreat that would have made Old Hooky proud. But Rowanne was still in a swivet on the carriage ride home, Gabe could tell, and he knew enough about his sister's megrims to keep his own counsel on his own side of the coach.
To say Rowanne was upset was to say a monsoon was damp. On the way back to Wimberly House, all that night and more than a few nights and days after, Rowanne relived that kiss. It was a good thing the blackguard was out of the country, she thought, for she did not know what she would do if she saw him again, strangle him or aid wholeheartedly in her own seduction!
Those were thoroughly unacceptable notions for a maiden lady, as she well knew, but they would not go away. Uncomfortable thoughts had that knack about them. When she worked on her miniatures, she saw the little terra-cotta dishes he had brought. When she danced, she recalled the waltz in his arms, and when she lay awake for hours in her bed she wondered how it would be to—
She went down to the library for a book of sermons. Absolutely,
What was the snake trying to do, turn her up sweet? Rowanne was not about to let any practiced flirt cause her one more ounce of anguish, not even if her fingers itched to push that black curl off his forehead. She took refuge in anger.
"What is the difference if you have one more thing that belongs to me? You have stolen my dignity."
He raised one eyebrow. "How is that, Miss Wimberly? No one knows, no one shall ever know, and I'll be gone tomorrow. Meanwhile you were the perfect lady in there, helping that silly chit and then walking out as imperious as a queen while they all stared. No one has robbed anything from you." Then a different kind of light shone in his eyes. "But since you have accused me, I am minded to steal another memory to take back with me to cherish."
Rowanne hurriedly looked about her person. A ribbon? Her fan? Dear heavens, she did not want Gabe coming upon them and having to challenge this unprincipled libertine to a duel. She did not want another scene, and she did not want him staring at her with that devilish gleam that made her toes curl in her slippers.
"It's only a kiss I want to steal," he murmured, matching action to words like the military man he was, taking her gently in his arms and bringing their lips together. It was a moment of such bursting radiance that Rowanne forgot her toes, forgot her brother, forgot that she was spreading more raspberry stains on his unmentionables where they were touching her body in the most interesting manner.
Only a kiss?
Chapter Eleven
« ^ »
V engeance is mine, sayeth the Lord… and every woman who thinks her affections have been trifled with by a handsome rogue. Carey's left cheek was as red as the stains on his pants, but if Rowanne had known it, her revenge would have been that much sweeter, for Carey was as stunned by the kiss as she was. What he meant to take by thievery became instead a gift, and the warm memory he thought to carry away became a firebrand searing itself into his very being. Captain Delverson was shaken. Either that or she had permanently addled his brain with the resounding slap before leaving the little room.
Carey stayed where he was for her reputation's sake, if not the five-fingers mark on his face. Hell, he'd received worse wounds with less reward. He searched out the butler's private stock and settled back to wait.
Miss Grimble thought Rowanne was still upset about her gown and their dashed hopes for a match between Gabriel and Miss Worthington, so did not get alarmed at her charge's lack of color or conversation. The companion was too busy trying to work the evening's rump and riot into chapter twenty-seven.
Gabriel thought it was oddly ill-tempered of his sister to hold an unreasonable grudge against Delverson; the chap had been everything amiable, as far as Gabe could see. Delverson had taken command of the awful situation, giving orders to the servants, organizing a tactical retreat that would have made Old Hooky proud. But Rowanne was still in a swivet on the carriage ride home, Gabe could tell, and he knew enough about his sister's megrims to keep his own counsel on his own side of the coach.
To say Rowanne was upset was to say a monsoon was damp. On the way back to Wimberly House, all that night and more than a few nights and days after, Rowanne relived that kiss. It was a good thing the blackguard was out of the country, she thought, for she did not know what she would do if she saw him again, strangle him or aid wholeheartedly in her own seduction!
Those were thoroughly unacceptable notions for a maiden lady, as she well knew, but they would not go away. Uncomfortable thoughts had that knack about them. When she worked on her miniatures, she saw the little terra-cotta dishes he had brought. When she danced, she recalled the waltz in his arms, and when she lay awake for hours in her bed she wondered how it would be to—
She went down to the library for a book of sermons. Absolutely,
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