How to Climb a Lady’s Tower

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How to Climb a Lady’s Tower Page 19

by Wolf, Bree


  Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh, but bit her lip to keep the sound from traveling through the door and out into the corridor.

  “I admit I didn’t know whether or not to come. After all, what young lady would invite a stranger into her bedchamber? That doesn’t seem wise.”

  “I never said it was,” Rebecca retorted before reaching up to pull the mask off his face once more. The tips of her fingers brushed over his temples, and she felt her breath lodge in her throat. Swallowing, she pushed past it. “You’re not a stranger, are you?”

  “Perhaps not,” he whispered, “but I still do not have any business being in your bedchamber.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  For a long moment, Lord Pembroke simply looked at her, his dark eyes tracing the lines of her face as though wishing to never forget this moment. “Because I wanted to,” he finally said.

  Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat. “Not because of your father’s ring?”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” he said, his gaze slightly narrowed as it held hers, trying to look deeper, “but you do not have it, do you?”

  “No.” Would he leave now? He’d yet to be angry with her because of her duplicity. Could it truly be that he understood she’d meant no harm?

  A small grin teased the corners of his mouth. “Then why would I be here if all I wanted was my father’s ring?”

  His words sent a shiver across Rebecca’s skin, and she felt the sudden urge to step closer, to test what it was he wanted, to demand a clear answer. Had he truly come because of her? Licking her lips, Rebecca crossed her arms once more, her brows rising in a teasing gesture. “And aside from your father’s ring, pray tell, what is it that you…want?”

  His grin deepened, and the spark in his eyes told her that he knew very well what she was asking. As though to further tease her, his own arms rose to cross in front of his chest in a gesture of defiance mimicking hers while that smirk never left his face. “What I want? What is it you want, Miss Hawkins?” He stressed her name in a way that made her shiver, as though he’d called her something much dearer. “What is your agenda? For I doubt that a woman like you invites a stranger,” his brows rose pointedly, “into her bedchamber without knowing exactly why.”

  Enjoying the way they spoke to one another, honestly and without pretense, Rebecca sighed, and her hands slid from her arms, freeing her from the protective stance she’d first felt necessary. But no more. All of a sudden, she felt…at ease, like herself. “I never said I didn’t know,” she told him, allowing her gaze to sweep over him with the same frank perusal that he had claimed earlier. “I do have an agenda. Of course, I do. I’m not a fool.”

  “Not a fool,” he teased, “but perhaps foolish.” His gaze sobered. “Do you know what you’re risking by inviting me here?”

  Grinning, Rebecca looked back at him. “Do you know what you’re risking by accepting my invitation?” Her brows rose in challenge, and she loved the way his mouth split into a grin.

  Lord Pembroke nodded. “It’s crossed my mind, yes.”

  “And you’re not afraid to be trapped into marriage by a scheming debutante?”

  He frowned, displeasure marking his features. “That term seems utterly wrong when it comes to you.”

  “Does it now?”

  “Incredibly so.”

  “Would you not describe me as scheming?” Rebecca asked, curious to know what he saw when he looked at her.

  For a long while, Lord Pembroke held her gaze, his own contemplative as he seemed to mull her question over. Then he shook his head. “I admit that you’re quite the puppet master,” he said with a grin. “However, the word scheming implies a devious mind, does it not? And you do not seem devious. There’s nothing cold and ruthless about you. No, I think you’re simply someone who knows exactly what she wants and finds her very own, admittedly unique ways to obtain it.”

  Hearing him describe her in such a way, his dark eyes glowing with something Rebecca could only describe as…awe, made her feel proud and special and…right. Indeed, she’d been right to think him a man who would see her for who she was. However, the question remained, would he accept her proposition and thus allow her to set right what she’d done?

  Lord Pembroke moved closer, his gaze fixed on her face. “It makes me wonder what it is you want,” he whispered, his voice ringing with something more than just mere curiosity. “What is your agenda? Why am I here tonight?”

  Lifting her chin, Rebecca held his gaze, wondering if she’d ever tire of looking into those deep, seeing eyes. “I asked you here tonight because I believe we can help each other.”

  His brows rose in surprise. There was something deeply intrigued that lurked in his eyes. “Is that so?”

  Rebecca nodded. “You still intend to find your father’s ring, or am I wrong?”

  His gaze sobered at her question, and he swallowed hard, the memory of pain and regret shining in his eyes. “I do. But why would that concern you?”

  “In the strictest sense, it doesn’t,” Rebecca answered, willing her wildly beating heart to calm down and allow her to speak with reason, with thought, with calculation. Never in her life had she been a simpering, mindless female and she wouldn’t start now! “I’m offering you my help in locating and ultimately obtaining it.”

  His brows slammed together in a confused frown. “Why would you do that?”

  Rebecca grinned, eager for him to agree. “As you said, I want something in return.”

  The look of suspicious confusion remained on his face. Still, the left corner of his mouth twitched. “Do I dare ask what it is you want?”

  Rebecca chuckled. “Well, we won’t get anywhere if you don’t.”

  Smiling, Lord Pembroke shook his head, clearly amused, and yet, the look in his gaze still spoke of something akin to admiration. Rebecca loved him for that alone. “Well, then this is me asking.”

  Rebecca cleared her throat, feeling suddenly nervous. What if he refused her? This was her only chance, and if he said no… “I have a list,” she forged ahead.

  “A list?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “A list of what?”

  Oh, how to explain this without sounding foolish or immature or insane! “Well, let’s just say I have a list of activities I require assistance with.”

  “A list of activities?” Suspicion darkened his gaze as he leaned forward, his eyes drilling into hers. “What on earth are you talking about? What…activities?”

  Rebecca clamped her lips shut, torn between lashing out at him and forgetting she’d asked in the first place. What would he think of her if she told him? The thought of how much his opinion mattered to her was frightening. Still, Rebecca knew she needed to remain true to herself. This was what she wanted. Her list! It was what she’d always wanted even before she’d decided to jot down the exact activities. Her heart skipped a beat at the last item on her list, get married in Gretna Green. Of course, that one she would omit. But everything else was not such a stretch, was it? Was she truly mad for asking this of him? He, who climbed into people’s homes looking for a stolen heirloom? Who was he to judge her? “I assure you it is nothing that will present a problem for a man like you.”

  “A man like me?” A hint of displeasure hung on his words. “Who do you think me to be?”

  Seeing her own desire to be understood reflected in his eyes, Rebecca smiled at him. “Well, you, too, know what you want, what is important, what you’re willing to do to see those you care for happy. You have a mind of your own to decide for yourself what is right and wrong and where to draw the line. You do not allow others to dictate who you should be.”

  Listening to her, he’d relaxed, the hard edges of his features softening until the ghost of a smile lingered on his mouth. “You say this as though you mean it as a compliment.”

  “I do,” she assured him, wondering about the man he was deep down where not even the smallest sliver of pretense remained. “I value honesty and truthfulness. I
do not believe that anyone should put another’s judgment above one’s own for we do not all find happiness in the same way.” She sighed. “Simply because I’m a woman, people expect – nay, demand! – I walk a certain path, but what if that is not what I want? What if that path will make me miserable? Am I wrong to try and find some way to be happy? To feel alive? To…” Words failed her as an overwhelming sense of disappointment swept through her.

  “And that is what you have on your list?” Lord Pembroke asked, his gaze soft as he searched her eyes. “Things that will make you happy?”

  Rebecca nodded. “I hope so for I’ve never tried them.”

  His eyes lingered on hers, and she could see that he wanted to agree, to help her. Still, there was a hint of caution on his face, one Rebecca understood only too well for it had kept her from reaching for what she wanted time and time again. “Am I right to assume,” he whispered, leaning forward as though afraid someone would overhear, “that the activities on your list would find disapproval with your uncle?”

  Abrupt laughter spilled from her lips, and Rebecca clamped a hand over her mouth.

  Lord Pembroke chuckled. “I suppose that means your uncle would surely suffer a heart attack if he were to find out.”

  The smile on Rebecca’s face simply wouldn’t allow itself to be chased away. “He would,” she confirmed with a sense of satisfaction that she didn’t want to deny. “To be honest, there is one activity he would most certainly hear of for it is a rather public one.”

  Lord Pembroke’s gaze narrowed. “All the others are…of a more private nature?”

  Rebecca nodded, her brows rising in challenge. “What is your answer?”

  “Can I ask what they are?”

  She shook her head. “Where would be the fun in that?”

  A chuckle left his lips. “I’m not certain if I’m impressed or afraid. Perhaps both.” He swallowed, and his gaze remained on hers, temptation and caution warring with one another. Then he abruptly stepped forward and his right hand grasped her chin, tilting her head upward and bringing her closer to him. “I will not do anything I deem wrong.” His gaze widened, urging her to hear him.

  “I understand,” Rebecca whispered, enjoying the sensation of feeling his skin against her own. “I hope you will use your own judgment and not someone else’s.”

  “I give you my word.”

  “Then I’ll give you mine as well,” Rebecca promised as excitement began to chase itself through her veins. “I’ll aid you however I can in retrieving your father’s ring.”

  He sighed and stepped back, his hand falling from her chin. “And how do you propose we do that?”

  “Let’s not discuss that here,” Rebecca said, eager to move on to the first item on her list.

  He frowned. “Where else?” His gaze narrowed as he watched her turn, her back to the window, her feet carrying her toward it. “Do I dare ask what the first item on your list is?”

  Reaching for the belt that held her robe together, Rebecca undid the bow, feeling her pulse thudding in her veins as Lord Pembroke’s gaze widened in utter shock. Before the robe had any chance of swinging open, he’d spun around. “What are you doing?” His voice sounded slightly hoarse as he raked a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the door.

  Rebecca laughed. “Turn around and you shall see.”

  “I’m not certain that’s a good idea,” he replied, his shoulders tensing as his hands gestured wildly. “Whatever you have in mind, I doubt it—”

  “A stroll in the gardens,” Rebecca offered, then waited for him to look at her over his shoulder. “What were you thinking?” she asked innocently, wishing she could see the red that no doubt came to his face at realizing his mistake.

  His gaze swept over her day dress as she pulled off the robe and placed it over the back of a chair.

  “The moon is out,” Rebecca said, glancing at the open window before she reached for the cloak she’d left hidden under the covers of her bed. Pulling it over her shoulders, she sat down on the nearby chair and slipped her feet into a pair of boots she’d set aside. Then she stepped toward the window, reaching for the rope.

  Lord Pembroke’s eyes widened yet again. “You wish to climb out the window?”

  “I would be a fool to pass up such an opportunity, wouldn’t I? And we’ve already established that I am not that, haven’t we?”

  A slow smile came to his lips as he walked toward her, his hand settling on the rope right below hers. “It’s no easy task climbing out a window,” he cautioned, his dark gaze lingering to see her reaction.

  “Then I’m fortunate to have you here to assist me, am I not?” Rebecca whispered, holding her breath as he moved closer.

  His gaze never left hers as his left hand came around her waist, settling on the small of her back. “Are you certain you want to do this?” he asked, tugging her against him, testing her resolve.

  The breath rushed from Rebecca’s lungs in a surprised gasp as she found herself pressed against him. Her eyes rose from where her hand rested against his chest to meet his eyes once again. “Are you trying to dissuade me?”

  He grinned. “It’s not working, is it?”

  “Are you disappointed?”

  He inhaled a long breath. “I know I should be, but I’d be lying if I said I was.”

  A deep and honest and long-absent smile stole onto Rebecca’s face. “Shall we then?”

  Lord Pembroke rolled his eyes as a chuckle left his lips. “You’ll be the death of me, no doubt.”

  Never in her life had Rebecca received a more wonderful compliment.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A Moonlit Stroll

  What on earth was he doing? Zach wondered dimly somewhere in the back of his head. Surely, he had to be mad! Perhaps he was asleep and lost in a dream? However, the young woman in his arms felt utterly real. He could feel her warmth through the simple dress and cloak she wore as she clung to him, her eyes wide as they prepared to dart down to the ground far below.

  Together, they perched on the windowsill to her chamber, his hand on the rope that had aided him in his ascent earlier that night. “Are you certain you don’t want to turn back?”

  “Stop asking me this,” she hissed, rolling her eyes at him in that charmingly annoying way he’d come to expect from her, and a part of him wondered if he had merely asked her in order to see it again. “Now, tell me what to do.”

  Swallowing his doubts, Zach grabbed the rope tighter and showed her how to fashion a sling for her foot, then hold the rope so it wouldn’t slip. “I’ll go first and then I’ll catch you.”

  Miss Hawkins nodded, her gaze once more drawn to the ground.

  “Don’t look down,” he told her, surprised by how much he was enjoying himself despite the doubts that simply wouldn’t allow themselves to be silenced. “It’ll only mess with your head.”

  “Don’t look down,” she repeated as though trying to memorize all he told her.

  Smiling at her, Zach grabbed the rope, set his foot in the fashioned sling and swung himself across the small gap to the nearby tree. Once settled, he looked up and across at her. “All right, your turn.”

  The look on her face had him mesmerized that he barely noticed how he swung the rope back to her. His body moved without thought as his gaze stayed with her, with the excited glow in her eyes, with that look of hunger for adventure, for more than life had offered her thus far. Still, there was a hint of nervousness in the way she moved, in the way she reached for the rope that he thought she would change her mind.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she tamped down her doubts, her fears, squared her jaw and then swung herself across the gap, her breath no doubt lodged in her throat.

  However, the moment his arms closed around her, the dam broke and an excited squeal left her lips, cutting through the night’s stillness. Instantly, she clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes going wide. “I’m sorry,” she whispered from behind her fingers as they both stood comple
tely still, listening to the night sounds around them.

  Zach half-expected the whole house to wake as one, shouts echoing to their ears as the windows lit one by one like eyes looking out into the darkness. Fortunately, all remained quiet and dark, and they both exhaled a relieved breath.

  “I’m so sorry,” Miss Hawkins said, her eyes apologetic as she looked up at him. “That was foolish of me. I shouldn’t have, but when I…” Words failed her as she glanced at the gap she’d just swung across. “It was beyond anything I’ve ever…” A deep sigh left her lips.

  Zach wondered if she even realized she still stood pressed to his chest with his free arm around her middle. He, however, was very much aware of the woman who had chosen him to accompany her on this journey of reaching for something she’d always been denied. He felt her heart beating against his own as her rapid breath brushed over his skin. Her eyes had closed, and a deep smile now tugged on her lips.

  She looked happy.

  Utterly and completely happy.

  Because of something so small.

  So insignificant.

  So trivial.

  To her, however, it meant the world.

  Zach remembered that feeling well. Only lately, it had been painfully absent. Ever since he’d come to England, life had consisted of an endless line of duties and expectations and responsibilities. It seemed that English upper society was not made for happiness. It was not what they strove to achieve. It was not what they valued the most.

  Why? Zach could not say for it did not make any sense. Why would anyone choose anything else above this feeling he now saw reflected on Miss Hawkins’ lovely face? Indeed, she was right to risk everything to feel this way, and in doing so, she’d reminded him that he, too, had once known exactly what he wanted.

  “How do we get down?” she whispered, jarring him from his musings.

  Zach cleared his throat, loosening his hold on her. “I’ll go first and you follow.”

 

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