Page 22 of A Rogue to Ruin
“I fail to see how we can be friends. Or why. It’s not as if I can take you to Magazine Day. Then Iwouldhave to marry you.”
She flashed a smile at him. “Would that be so bad?”
He laughed, and she recalled how the scar on his chin would flatten when he smiled broadly or laughed. She also remembered how the slight ridge in the bottom of the center of his lip felt against her.
“Pleasestop flirting with me, Anne. We can’t go back to…before.”
“Were we flirting before?” She simply couldn’t stop herself. Being with him made her feel so light, so wonderful, better than she had in months.
A fat raindrop landed on his sleeve near her hand.
Rafe looked up, squinting. “Here it comes.” He took her hand as several drops began to fall, and together, they raced to a narrow doorway tucked into the side of the stairs that led up to the statue and the main covered area.
He opened the door and pulled her inside before they were completely drenched.
She looked up at him in surprise. “How did you know this was here?”
“I just…” His brow creased, and confusion shadowed his eyes. “I saw the door.”
“I was never allowed to come in here.” She looked around at the small, dark space but couldn’t gauge the size or depth.
“Your hair came loose.” He tucked a damp lock behind her ear beneath her hat.
“It’s always doing that,” she murmured, instinctively lifting her hand and connecting with his. She didn’t pull away.
He didn’t either. “I remember.”
They stared at each other as the rain cascaded outside the door. Someone could come—likelywouldcome as they sought to escape the squall. Even so, Anne couldn’t move away.
She edged closer to him.
“Anne,” he breathed, her name a warning and yet somehow an invitation too.
“Anne!”
Startled, she stepped back as her godfather leapt into the chamber beneath the stairs. “Godfather, you’re all wet.”
“Quite.” He brushed at his sodden sleeves. “I had just returned to the picnic to say we should move inside. Too late, I’m afraid.” He looked toward Rafe. “You must be Mr. Bowles.”
Anne looked between them. They hadn’t yet met?
“I am,” Rafe said. “You must be Lord Stone. Thank you for your kind invitation today.”
“I’m pleased to welcome you to Ivy Grove. I see you found the secret room in the folly. Clever of you. Or did my goddaughter bring you here when the rain started?”
“Your goddaughter?” Rafe looked toward Anne, but she couldn’t see his face very well now that they weren’t standing so close together. Between the darkness of the room and the brim of his hat, she couldn’t see his eyes at all.
“Miss Pemberton is my goddaughter,” the earl said.
Rafe nodded slowly—that she could see. “That’s why you’ve been here many times.”
“Yes, since I was a child,” Anne said.
“Since before you can remember.” The earl laughed. “Oh look, the rain is slowing down. When it stops, we’ll make a run for the house. Well, not a run.” He chuckled.
“Should we take the coaches?” Rafe suggested.
“That would be faster—and drier if the heavens decide to weep again. Capital idea, Bowles!” The earl looked to Anne with a grin. “I’ve just the coach in mind for us, my dear. Sir Algernon has an elegant new vehicle.”
