Page 54 of To Love a Libertine (Once Wicked 1)

Eden couldn’t help but smile back. “I saw you dancing with him.”

“He is handsome, is he not?”

“He is. And you seem fond of each other’s company.”

A blush rose to stain Genevieve’s cheeks as she removed her earrings. “I daresay we are.”

“Is it to be a love match, then?”

Her friend’s color deepened another shade. “He has made no declaration as of yet, but I feel he will very soon. He is to call next week.”

It was hard not to be jealous. “I pray all goes according to your desire.” She turned to face the opposite direction as she divested herself of her skirt and petticoat. Unable to prevent them, tears formed in her eyes.

A gentle hand settled on her shoulder. “I am truly sorry, Eden,” whispered Genevieve. “That was thoughtless of me.”

“Please don’t trouble yourself, darling.” She forced a smile. “I’m so happy for you—truly I am. My own disappointment cannot overshadow my joy over you finding love.” She placed her hand atop her friend’s. “Hold on to it and treasure it, Genevieve. It is far more precious than you can possibly imagine. Having lost it myself, I know.”

“Now I fear I must cry, too,” said Genevieve, her eyes glistening.

The two embraced, and for an insane instant Eden contemplated asking her for help. But no, she’d been caught last time. Even if she managed to get away with it tonight, she didn’t feel right asking her friend to aid in her ruination. For ruination was what she had in mind.

If I cannot have Percy as my husband, I will have him as my lover…

That she could think such a thought with utter calm was a measure of how much she’d changed. Being sold to Ravenwood for fifty thousand pounds by her own family had robbed her of her innocence in all but one area. Tonight would see that gone, too—but it wouldn’t be Ravenwood who took it from her.

It was nearly the second hour before Genevieve’s breathing finally settled into a steady rhythm that didn’t alter when there was movement in the bed they shared. Easing off, Eden slid her feet into her bed slippers and drew on her wrapper. An ear to the door confirmed there was no one about outside in the hallway. Careful not to make a noise, she opened it and slipped out into the darkness. Heart racing, she shut it behind her and turned to face the shadowy hall.

Her soft kid slippers made no sound as she padded down the corridor, keeping to the thick runner in the center. A door latch rattled, and she hastened past before it could open. She all but flew to the stairs at the end of the hall, whipping around the corner to press herself against the wall.

As she listened, a door quietly opened and then closed down the hall. She wasn’t the only one sneaking about in the night. Please don’t come this way! She shrank into the deeper shadows and waited, but no one came. Farther down the hall, she heard another door open and close.

The only sound she could detect now was the whoosh of her own blood in her ears as she released the breath she’d been holding. Turning, she began to mount the steps to the third floor of the west wing. One by one they took her closer to her heart’s desire.

When she’d counted four doors along the right hand side, she stopped. Sudden fear paralyzed her as she lifted her hand to knock. What am I doing? Have I gone completely mad?

Before she could question herself any further, the door before her opened a crack.

“Thank God,” muttered the silhouette beyond. “I feared you caught or unable to get away.”

The gravelly quality of his voice touched Eden in secret places, caressing her like a callused hand. She waited, shivering with anticipation, trembling in terror as he backed up and held open the door. Entering on wobbly legs, she at once made for the warmth of the fire, cloaking herself in the security of its meager orange light. The door closed, and she heard the latch slide into place, shutting out the rest of the world.

“What of your fiancé?” asked Percy, coming up behind her. “Do you not fear discovery?”

Turning to face him, she stared at the patch of bare chest peeking out from the open neck of his linen nightshirt. Her mouth went bone dry. “He is not my fiancé by choice. I must wed him in two weeks, but this night is mine to do with as I please…and it pleases me to spend it with you.”

“Why?” He crossed his arms.

She blinked in confusion. “Why? What do you mean, why?”

“I would know the reason you risk ruination to be with me here tonight.” He made no move toward her. “Have you changed your mind about Ravenwood? Will you elope with me to Scotland?”

“No,” she said, hating the word. “He will destroy my family if I don’t marry him. But I won’t allow him to take everything from me—he may have purchased me, but I’ll never belong to him.”

“The law says differently.”

“The law knows nothing of my heart.” Something flared in his eyes at these words, and she rushed on, hoping. “I desire you, Percy, and I know you desire me.” Lifting her hands, she untied the sash of her wrapper and shrugged off the garment. She stood before him clad in naught but thin muslin made almost transparent by the firelight.

“I don’t deny it.” His voice had grown even rougher. “But there is more than desire between us, and you are to be another man’s wife.”

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