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“Lord Craven?” Rathmore said before her father could. “You were with him?”

“What’s wrong with him?” her father asked. “And how much time have you spent with that man?”

Before Bianca could respond, Rathmore inserted, “He’s just not cut from good cloth. Not any of them. They’re rogues.”

“Don’t say that.” Bianca took a step toward him. “Lord Craven is a perfectly good man. He’s just misunderstood.”

Rathmore’s eyebrows went up, but his mouth closed.

Juliet came to stand next to her sister. “I agree. He both protected and defended Bianca when she needed it most. And dare I say, you’re more confident after your outing with him?”

Bianca shrugged. “Perhaps.” She didn’t feel confident right now, just confused and tired. The truth was, what she most wanted to do, was curl into Chris’s large frame and close her eyes.

“That’s well and good,” her father stepped up to her side. “But His Grace has issued a warning and I don’t think it should be ignored. Just how involved with this fellow are you?”

“He only helped us find Mittens yesterday, Papa, and then agreed to escort us to the match. Bianca hadn’t spent any time with him before that. Right, Bianca?”

Relief and gratitude made Bianca’s shoulders slump. Sometimes Juliet’s meddling was a godsend. “She’s absolutely right. I only really met him yesterday. And he was very kind at the match.” She drew in a deep breath as she rubbed her forehead. “May I go now?”

Her father gave a stiff nod. “Of course. Sleep well, Bianca. We’ll talk on this topic further tomorrow.”

She nodded as she turned to leave. She wondered if she’d sleep at all.

Chapter Ten

Chris lay in bed, his eye throbbing and his ribs sore. He doubted he’d get much sleep. So, he got up and sneaked out of the cottage to head to the beach for a run and, before he knew it, he’d reached the path leading up to the Moorish house. The climb was more difficult in the dark, which made his progress slower, but he made his way to the top without incident. Before him stood the large manor, lit by soft candlelight. He wasn’t certain why he’d come here other than he had a vague hope of catching sight of Bianca.

He shouldn’t. Despite what he’d said to William today, he didn’t intend to marry. Of course, he nearly forgot his decision every time he touched Bianca.

Candlelight filled several of the windows. He could see what had to be the music room where several people gathered. On the third floor, a lone room was also lit and he watched as a woman stepped onto the balcony through a double set of doors. She leaned on the rail, her chin propping on her hand.

He held his breath. Was that Bianca? It looked like her, but then again, it could be any one of her sisters. It was difficult to tell from this distance in the dark.

He approached the house, slipping through the night even as the woman returned inside leaving the door still open.

For a split second he hesitated. If it wasn’t Bianca’s room, he was about to make a grave error, but then, he pushed his thoughts aside. He did best when he just reacted, and with that, he started climbing from balcony to balcony until he found himself standing on the one with the open door. Craning his neck, he peeked in to see Bianca sitting in front of her vanity, with her head on her folded arms.

She wore a thin and gauzy night rail, which floated about her body. Her hair had been fashioned in a loose braid and he watched a few tendrils dance in the light breeze that entered the room. She stole his breath.

He pushed the curtain open, then stepped inside and heard her soft sob. He winced at the sound.

“Bianca,” he said, quietly moving all the way into the room.

She jumped up, spinning about, her feet catching with one another and then she was falling. Quickly, he crossed the room, catching her in his arms. “Steady, beautiful.”

She grasped his biceps, her fingers digging into him. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you from falling?” he asked, pulling her upright.

Bianca didn’t resist his touch but she looked up at him frowning. “Thank you for that, but what I meant is what are you doing here in my room?”

“I… I saw you and…” He didn’t have a good answer. He searched his mind but all he could land on was the truth. “I missed you.”

She softened against him, her soft curves melting into his hard edges. “I missed you too.” Then she took a partial step back. “But I can’t have you here. Please try and understand. My reputation is at stake if we’re caught together.”

He grimaced, still holding her close. He understood. No one had ever loved him and she wasn’t going to be the first. “It likely isn’t good for me either. I know how the story ends, which means I should leave well enough alone, but I can’t seem to do it.”

“How does it end?” she asked, sliding her hands up his arms and resting them on either side of his neck. Her fingers were achingly tender, like silk moving along his skin.


Tags: Tammy Andresen Romancing the Rake Historical