Page 65 of Just About a Rake
Leonora stared silently at Heart’s side profile, her mind still rather blank. She didn’t know how many seconds passed when a hand clamped around her wrist, yanking her back. She stumbled a few steps, and before she could process what was happening, a hand covered her mouth, muffling any protest. Blast it! She was pulled into the shadows of a nearby wagon—one she hadn’t even noticed until this very moment—her body pressed against the rough wood.
Leonora blinked as her eyes came level with a half-buttoned shirt, revealing a strong set of chest muscles.
Dare.
Wasn’t he fighting?
However, a great sense of relief washed over her. “What are you doing here?” Leonora asked in a hushed voice.
“Chasing after you. Why did you leave like that?”
Her eyes widened as she remembered her purpose. “Oh, that. I’m sorry. The duchess was at the fight, but she left, so I followed her.”
“The duchess was at the fight?” He turned thoughtful. “I suppose that makes sense. It’s about the only thing that could make you tear your eyes away from me.”
Leonora punched him in the arm but couldn’t help a hushed laugh of exasperation from following. “How can you jest about such things? My brother caught us.”
“He caught you, not me.”
A minor detail. “He saw your jacket.”
“But he cannot know for sure that it’s mine.”
“Oh, he knows,” Leonora said, somewhat flustered. She wiggled from his embrace and peered around the wagon. “I want to listen.”
“Very well but don’t lean over so far,” he advised, his hands lingering on her arms once more. Had he always touched her like this? Small, seemingly innocent gestures. Or was it that she was only becoming aware of them now?
She glanced back at his face, his exposed chest, and averted her gaze again. Her pulse stirred. Noticing was dangerous. Noticing made her want to notice more.
“What is happening over there?” he asked, hunching beside her but not peeking like she was.
You are happening.
Whatever that even meant. Lord, the man was so... so...distracting. It seemed almost unfathomable that they had now found themselves in this position. This situation, that Leonora herself couldn’t clearly define.
She placed a finger on her lips and strained to listen. They had missed the first part of the conversation, but not, it seemed, anything of real significance.
Heart’s voice, unmistakable in its exasperation, rang out. “Devil take it,Your Grace, how many times must I tell you I’m not following you? Shall I scale the walls of this building and shout it from the deuced rooftop so that all of London might hear? Will you believe me then?”
Leonora arched a brow.
“Forgive me if I find your word hard to trust,” the duchess said.
“Believe what you will. You always do.”
“Well.” A new voice entered the conversation. “This is an unexpected surprise. I thought I saw you at the fight, Duchess.”
Leonora recognized that voice, didn’t she? Hadn’t she just heard it casting taunts at opponents? She glanced at Dare, raising a brow.Your cousin?
Those dark-blue eyes settled back on her and nodded. Then he flashed her a roguish grin. Infuriating man. Why was he smiling at her like that? Was he flirting? At a moment like this?
He’s always smiling, Leonora.
True. But tell that to the pulse in her wrist!
“Who the hell are you?” Heart demanded. “What is this damn fight?”
“He is my son,” the duchess voice came, “and a participant in a private boxing match nearby. I was curious.”
