Darkness enveloped them, and she could not tell how big the room was. Given Brook’s proximity, she suspected it was small indeed, no larger than a cupboard.
“We cannot stay here all day,” she whispered.
“I could think of worse ways to spend my day.”
“Well—”
Brook pressed fingers to her lips at the sound of voices nearing. She stilled, recognizing the voice of Mr. Johnson and the shopkeeper.
“Oh Lord.” Surely they did not need to come in the room? If they did, Chloe would be utterly ruined and she certainly would not expect Brook to step in and do the right thing.
She frowned to herself in the darkness. Would she? He was charming and certainly roguish but the more she came to know him, the more she had begun to wonder—was he really the rake that she had read about in the gossip columns?
What silly thoughts these were. Brook would never marry someone like her! Goodness, Mr. Brook Waverley would likely never marry at all or have some clever arrangement to ensure that he still had his freedom as well as heirs.
Her throat grew dry and she fought the urge to cough. The air in the storage room was dusty and smelled of dry paper. Only the scent of soap coming from Brook broke through it. Fighting the desire to inhale that smell deeply was difficult indeed, especially when it would most certainly bring on a coughing fit.
The voices faded and she released the air from her lungs. It was only then that she realised that Brook had her by both arms and they were mere inches apart. Instead of slowing, the heart beat that pounded fiercely in her ears grew more voracious.
Though she could not make out his features, she felt as though his gaze was upon her. She longed to be in the sunlight, able to see what was in his eyes. But would she even see what she wanted? She licked her lips. “Brook…” she whispered.
His fingers came back to her mouth but not to shush her this time. No, this time he traced the shape of her lips and let that finger slip down, over her chin and down her neck to where she could feel her pulse beat wildly. His fingers curved fully around her neck, pushing under her hair while his other hand felt warm on her arm, as though his fingers were on fire and penetrating through all layers of her clothing.
She waited, lips parted. She might be ignorant in the ways of men in the world, but she was not wrong about this, was she? There was only one reason a man might take a woman in his arms like this.
And for the life of her, she could not find any reason for him not to kiss her.
“Chloe,” he murmured, his tone almost as raspy as hers had been. The sound of her name on his lips sent the tiny hairs on her arms standing on end.
She leaned into him—her way of telling him, yes, I want this too.
He must have understood her. Somehow, by some miracle, this roguish man actually understood her—the bookish recluse whom everyone was more than happy to ignore.
His lips upon hers came as a shock and she jolted. He dropped back. “Forgive me.”
“No, please…I mean…” Curses, he had taken her shock for refusal. “Kiss me, Brook.”
He chuckled likely because her tone was demanding. She had not meant to be but she needed this more than she had ever needed anything in her life. Even if it was only one kiss, it would be one kiss to carry her through the rest of her spinsterhood.
She waited what felt like an eternity in the darkness but must have been mere seconds. His lips touched hers tentatively and she managed to remain still. They were warm and seeking, moving across her mouth with expert tenderness. Chloe remained with her hands balled into fists at her side. The riot of sensation rolled through her and her mind froze. Gone were the questions as to why and how this would happen.
He kissed her again, curving his thumb up her jawline and gently angling her head. He broke away briefly, resting his forehead against hers. “Chloe, you can kiss me back, you know.”
“I do not know how,” she blurted out.
She half expected him to laugh at her but instead he released her arm and cupped the other side of her face. Gently, slowly, he helped her move, helped her participate in the kiss until her knees felt weak and she was not even sure whether up was up and down was down. Slowly, she unfurled her fists and put her hands to his waist. She felt warmth and strength underneath his jacket and it made her heart all fluttery.
Brook eased away, pressing one firm kiss to her lips, then to the tip of her nose. He kept ahold of her face and she felt his warm breath on her skin.
“You have never been kissed before?”
She shook her head, even though she knew he could not see but he must have felt it.
“Well, I am honored to be your first.”
Somehow, she did not melt into a puddle at his feet. Though it was close. He had said those words with utter sincerity and she genuinely believed them to be true. Good Lord, what a muddle she was in.
Chapter Twelve
“Mr. Waverley, what an unexpected pleasure!” Mrs. Joanna Lockhart had a smile on her face that passed for mischievous. Between her and another girl whom Brook could not remember the name of, was Chloe. Her cheeks were still flushed from the kiss. She had insisted on leaving the book shop before him and catching up with her friends. She was not wrong to do so but he’d be damned if he wanted to break from her company so soon.
“Mrs. Lockhart.” He bowed his head. “And Miss Larkin and…”
“Miss Snow,” the petite dark-haired girl said softly, dipping to him.
“We were just walking back to my carriage. Will you not join us for a moment?” Mrs. Lockhart asked.
Brook did not miss the look Chloe shot her friend’s way but Mrs. Lockhart ignored it as did Brook when it was darted his way. “I would be delighted.”
Brook inserted himself into the gap between Mrs. Lockhart and Chloe and they strolled along the main road that cut through the village, leading straight between the scattered shops—a chandlery, the old forge, a tea shop, and an odds and ends shop. Some medieval buildings remained, their whitewashed walls contrasting with the more modern red brick structures. The road leading between them all was not paved and large ruts cut a groove through it from the many carriages that passed through daily.
“I am surprised to see you here, Mr. Waverley,” Mrs. Lockhart commented.
“Oh, why is that?” he asked nonchalantly. The attractive woman gave him an appraising look. He could not say what Chloe had told them about their acquaintance but it was apparent she was interested in him—and not for herself. He rather liked that Chloe had a protector in this friend.
“You are normally in London at this time of year, are you not? Or Bath? I believe that is where the most…fun is to be had.”
“Mr. Waverley’s father has fallen ill, remember, Joanna?” Chloe said quietly.
“Oh yes. Are you remaining to nurse him back to health? Or is there someone else keeping you here?” Mrs. Lockhart’s smile tilted.
“I am, of course, concerned for my father,” he replied, keeping his expression neutral.
“And there is no other reason for you to remain?” Mrs. Lockhart pressed.
“Joanna,” Chloe hissed.
“There are several reasons for me to remain in Hampshire. After all, there are many wonderful people here—much like yourself, Mrs. Lockhart.” He shot her a bold smile.
They came to a stop by the fountain at the end of the town. The one cobbled section allowed carriages to circle around and collect passengers. Two empty hacks awaited passengers and a small private one that he assumed belonged to Mrs. Lockhart’s family was tucked behind them.
“Spoken like a true gentleman.” Mrs. Lockhart eyed him. “I hope you are a true gentleman, Mr. Waverley. I would so hope for all those stories of you not to be true.”
He met her gaze firmly. “I was not aware you read stories such as those, Mrs. Lockhart. I am certain you are aware such stories are greatly exaggerated and I would never cause harm to any woman’s reputation.”
A moment passed and th
e woman nodded. She leaned in a little and dropped her voice. “If you ever cause hurt to my friend, I shall ensure that you never touch another woman again.”
Brook chuckled. “I believe you wholeheartedly.”
“Good.” She affected a pleasant smile. “Well, it was wonderful to see you, Mr. Waverley. Will you be walking Chloe home? You are neighbors after all.”
“But—”Chloe spluttered.
Miss Snow frowned. “Should she not be—”
“A fine idea,” Brook agreed. “Then you shall not have to travel so far out of your way, Mrs. Lockhart.”
“Do I not—” Chloe started.
“We shall see you for supper soon!” Mrs. Lockhart gave Chloe a wave and tugged Miss Snow away, practically pushing her into the carriage.
He pressed his lips together to suppress a grin. It seemed whatever he had done, he had done enough to assuage any of Mrs. Lockhart’s suspicions. He would have to buy her something nice as a thank you for engineering some time alone with Chloe.
“Shall we?” he asked Chloe.
She glared at him for a few seconds then sighed. “Very well.”
Following the road out of the village, it swiftly turned into a country road lined by hedgerows. The ruts were deeper here because the rain had few places to drain so when the roads were muddy, it was usually impassable. It meant watching their step so as not to trip over—something Chloe seemed to struggle to do. She stumbled twice and Brook had to jump into action to catch her.
The second time, she did not push away from him so fast. Her gaze caught on his and he could have sworn he heard her inhale sharply. Her fingers curled into his arm and he flexed his fingers against the small of her back. Her cheeks reddened and she straightened.
“I am not normally so clumsy.”
“I beg to differ,” he murmured with a smile.
“I am not. It just seems to be…” She scowled. “It seems to be when you are around,” she admitted quietly.
He rather liked that admission.
“Your friends seem like pleasant girls.”
“I think Joanna would object to the ‘girls’ part of that.”
He grinned. “Yes, she is the epitome of a strong woman.”
“The death of her husband did that to her, I think.”
“It must have been quite a shock, to lose him so soon and at such a young age.”
Chloe nodded. “I did not know her properly when it happened and she does not speak of it much but how could it not affect her?”
“I was wondering when you became friends with them. I have never seen you with them before.”
She peered at him. “I did not know you paid attention to my activities. I rather thought I was invisible to you.”
“I had to keep an eye on the enemy, did I not?”
She pursed her lips. “You are correct, though. We came to know each other during the last Season. There is rather a drought of single women my age now. They are all married off.”
“But not you.”
“Yes, thank you for reminding me of that.”
“I had rather thought you were not all that interested in marriage.”
“I am not, I do think. At least, I have never met anyone to whom I would wish to be married. But it is rather a bore to be reminded of my unmarried status constantly and, of course, Mama would love for me to make a match before I am too old and horrible.”
“It might be too late for that,” he teased.
She swiped at his arm. “We cannot all be beautiful like you, Brook.”
He dodged her hand. “You think I am beautiful?”
“You know full well you are attractive. Or at least some people think you are. I mean…that is…” She blew out a breath. “Cease teasing me.”
“I am not alone in my attractiveness.”
Turning her head to eye him, a red brow lifted and she laughed. “You cannot mean me.”
“I do indeed.”
“I am not being modest, I swear it, but I am hardly the sort to turn heads.”
“You turn mine, Chloe.”
Head tilted, she stared at him for a good few seconds more then looked away. They continued along the road in silence until they reached the fence leading into the fields. She stopped and waited.
“Farewell, Brook.”
He ignored her comment and moved past her to unlatch the gate and swing it open, motioning for her to enter. She moved past him and he followed after her. Perhaps that kiss in the bookshop was making him too bold but he could not help himself. The last thing he wanted to do at present was leave Chloe. If that meant traipsing along enemy ground, so be it.
She made a noise of annoyance and picked up her pace.
“Miss Larkin, are you trying to rid yourself of me?” He moved swiftly to keep up with her as they traipsed through ankle-length grass toward her land.
“Most certainly. If my father finds you here, he shall shoot you.”
If her father found out he had kissed her, he would do worse than shoot him. He’d probably be hung, drawn, and quartered.
It had been a reckless move—perhaps one he regretted. They were hidden away and no one would find out about the kiss but he suspected he would remember it for a long, long time. Her inexperience had been clear, especially when she had gone rigid in his arms but once he had helped her relax, by God, it was clear Chloe Larkin would become an expert on kissing very swiftly. Apparently there was something to be said for being a bookish wallflower. If other men realised these wallflowers could be so passionate, they would all be snapped up within moments.
They came upon the stile that indicated they would be stepping onto Larkin land. She stopped in front of it, turning around, and folded her arms across her chest.
“I never took you for a coward, Chloe.”
“And I never took you for a fool.” She ran her gaze up and down him. “Why are you doing this? You know we can meet at night, when it is safe.”
He tugged off his hat and sunk his fingers through his hair before placing it back. “Perhaps because I want to spend more time with you.”
“But why?”
He had not had much time to think on it but his instincts never led him wrong. He had likely known it since he had first come upon her in the bookshop those weeks ago. “There is something between us, Chloe. I wish to see where it leads,” he said frankly.
She blinked at him several times then twisted on her heel and clambered awkwardly over the stile, her skirts catching on the rough wood as she went. She stumbled down to the ground on the other side and continued walking away from him.
Following quickly, he made easy work of the fence and caught up to her. “Do I not even get a response?”
She stilled and faced him. “You should go home, Brook. It is too dangerous to be here.”
“Did you hear what I said? I have feelings for you, Chloe. I think you have feelings for me too.”
Her lips parted and he heard her draw in a shaky breath. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them, they were full of determination. “I had thought that perhaps all the gossip was incorrect. That you were a better man than people had said. I must have been wrong.”
“Chloe—”
She began marching away from him again, cutting across the fields that would take her directly to the house. The very tips of the building could be seen and before long they would be viewable from the windows. Brook could not bring himself to care. He did not blame Chloe for not trusting him—after all he was the ‘enemy’ and his reputation was not one of a pure virgin. However, he had hoped she knew him well enough now to know he was not being insincere.
He caught up with her again, this time placing himself firmly in front of her. She put her hands to her hips and glared at him. “If you are spotted here…”
He shrugged. “Let them see me. I am not ashamed.”
“I do not think you will be ashamed. But you might very well be dead.”
Brook smirked. “I’m much faster than yo
ur father. He will struggle to shoot me.”
She made a frustrated sound. “Go home, Brook. We can still plan whatever it is you wish to plan just go home.”
He shook his head. “Not until you stop ignoring what I just said.”
She dropped her arms to her side. “Fine. If what you have said is indeed true—that you have feelings for me—it does not matter. I am a Larkin, and you are a Waverley. That is all there is to it.”
“So your argument for us not being together is our families?”
She nodded.
“I think you are simply making excuses. I think perhaps you are scared, Chloe. For once in your life, you are unable to hide behind your books and in libraries.”
“Scared? You do not scare me, Brook Waverley. But I have no wish to anger our families further.”
“If you are not scared, you do an awfully good attempt at looking so.” He took one of her hands. “Your hands are shaking.”
“Because I am angry.”
“What have I done to make you angry?”
She tried to tear her hand away from him but he kept hold of it. “Because I believe you find it amusing to toy with me.”
“So it is not just our families’ discord that is informing your decisions?”
Chloe tilted her head. “You know well of your reputation and I believe you take pride in it. Why should I believe you truly feel something for me? For all I know this could be part of some plan with your father to dishonor me and discredit my family.”
“You truly believe I would do something as shameful as that?” He shook his head and released her hand. He did not blame her for her doubt but he could not help but feel stung by that remark.
Folding her arms across her chest, she blew a strand of hair from her face. “I…I do not know.”
He sensed her softening toward him and took the opportunity to close the gap between them. “I do know. I do know that you want to kiss me again. I do know that you enjoy my company. I do know that you have feelings for me and you are scared of them.”
“I do not—”
He cut her off with a firm kiss upon her lips. She sank into him quickly, swiftly, even uttering a sound of gratification. Good God, he had been right. Chloe was a damned quick learner. He wrapped his arms about her and held her firm, feeling the soft flesh of her thighs pressed against his.
Married to the Rake (The Wallflower Brides Book 1) Page 8
