The Rake's Proposal. Sarah Barnwell Elliott
and he had enough experience to tamp down his desire, no matter how powerful it was.
“Kate. We have to stop. I have to take you home.” He didn’t add that stopping was one of the hardest things that he’d ever had to do. He just waited, watching her violet eyes slowly focus and reason reenter her body.
Kate only nodded, too embarrassed to speak. She sat up slowly, putting enough space between them so she could think. She knew that if Ben hadn’t pulled away, she wouldn’t have been the one to stop. When he held her in his arms, her common sense vanished, and her actions were ruled by pure sensation. What must he think of her, to have lost such control? She could only guess: a provincial miss, swooning every time he looked in her direction.
“Kate?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry, you know. That wasn’t very well done of me. I usually demonstrate a bit more restraint.” His eyes smiled as he said this, but for once his smile was not at her expense. He seemed truly apologetic, and his admission helped put her at ease. So he lost control, too, eh?
“I am usually more restrained myself,” she replied with mock solemnity.
“Usually? My, my, I had no idea you found yourself in this position so often,” he retorted, enjoying the color that returned to her cheeks. “Come. It’s time to go. My driver should be back by now.”
Ben helped Kate rise from the sofa, and waited in silence as she donned her pelisse. He pulled his watch from his pocket and swore silently. It was nearly five o’clock in the morning, and Rob’s servants were bound to be stirring by the time they reached the town house.
“You know, Lord Sinclair, you never answered my question.”
“I think it’s all right if you call me by my Christian name, Kate.”
She blushed, feeling foolish once more. “Benjamin.”
“Ben will do. Now what was your question?”
“Where are we?”
“Where are we?” he repeated, looking her over distractedly. “Here—draw your hood a bit tighter.”
“Why? And why won’t you answer my question?”
“I’ll answer both questions, m’dear. First, we’re in a gaming house, and second, I reckon you’d rather not be recognized on our way out.” He didn’t add that the upper floors of the house occasionally served as a brothel as well.
“We’re in a…a house of ill repute?” Kate was completely shocked and, she had to admit, more than a little bit delighted. This was an evening of firsts. She began scanning the room avidly, trying to absorb as many details as possible.
“You needn’t look so pleased about it,” Ben said wryly, glancing over his shoulder as he opened the door and perused the hallway for passersby.
“There can’t be anyone here who’d recognize me,” she protested.
“You’d be surprised. Let’s go,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the hall.
Either the night was too late or the morning was too early—Kate wasn’t quite sure how to make the distinction—but there didn’t seem to be a soul about. Her mischievous side began to surface.
“My, that’s quite a painting,” she said, pausing to point at a large-scale portrait of a reclining nude. “The artist has captured her…red hair…most effectively.”
“Time is of the essence, Kate.”
“Of course.” She kept walking, but wasn’t about to let her one and only visit to such a place end so quickly. Curiosity also got the best of her.
“Um…so what were you doing in a house of ill repute?”
“Certainly not what I came here to do.”
“Oh.” She didn’t ask for clarification. She could only imagine what sorts of nefarious activities her presence had interrupted, and wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it.
Ben smiled to himself, hoping to have shut her up with that remark. Fine time for her to start getting chatty. If they wasted any more time leaving, it would be daylight before they reached Rob’s.
After descending a wide staircase, they approached the door. A butler opened it, and Kate paused to give him a thorough once-over, noting that he looked more like a pugilist than a butler. Ben prompted her with a yank, and they were out in the cold once more, the dark sky just beginning to give way to the first pink traces of dawn. Thankfully, his carriage was waiting. His coachman alighted and opened the door, but before Kate could thank him, Ben unceremoniously hoisted her off the ground and tossed her into the carriage.
“Take us to Lord Gordon’s, Winters, and hurry, please.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Ben climbed into the carriage and settled into his seat. Winters shut the door, enveloping his passengers in total darkness. Not dark enough, unfortunately, for Ben to miss the sullen glare Kate turned on him. He chose to ignore it, however, and closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep in the twenty minutes it would take to reach Robert’s house.
Kate watched him, too wide-awake herself even to think about sleep. She was annoyed with his treatment of her, but was not above admitting that perhaps she deserved it. There was a time for cheekiness, and now, apparently, was not it.
Nevertheless, she huffed loudly, hoping that he would open at least one eye. But as that elicited no response, she decided to change tactics.
“Ben?” she asked softly.
He cracked open an eye, pleased at the way his name sounded when she said it. He hadn’t really been sleeping; like Kate, he was far too tense to contemplate rest seriously. But he knew that his composure would bother her, assumed though it may have been. And for some reason, he felt like bothering her.
“Ben, what happened to my carriage?”
“While he was waiting for us, Winters brought it round to Robert’s. It should be tucked neatly into his carriage house by now…there’s a slim chance that it will have arrived before your brother returned home, and in that case nothing will have appeared amiss.”
Kate nodded uncertainly. “I told my maid not to wait up for me, and none of the other servants were to wait up either…I suppose there is a chance that no one will have missed me.”
Ben hoped to God that this was the case. He had visions of Robert running his hands through his hair, pacing, and polishing his pistols as he frantically waited for his sister to return. He could only imagine what Robert would think when she finally showed up with him.
The carriage rattled along for another ten minutes, then slowed to a stop in front of the town house. Kate peered out of the window, noting that there seemed to be an unusual number of lights burning in the windows. Her hopes began to sink.
“Will you tell him?” she asked, turning around and pleading with her eyes.
“He’ll certainly need to be apprised.”
“I understand. But will you tell him everything?”
Ben shook his head, finally understanding the true nature of her question. “I’m sure he’d rather not know everything, nor do I care to inform him. We’ll tell him only what we must, all right?”
She nodded, wondering how she’d get out of this fix. Truth be told, she’d be happier if Robert didn’t know anything about the evening at all. He’d only start asking the same questions that Ben had, wondering why anyone would go to such lengths for a simple robbery. But at the same time, she wanted to stay safe…oh, there was no easy answer.
Winters opened the carriage door, and Kate steeled herself for a very long walk to her brother’s front door.
Kate had resigned herself to meeting her brother