Page 121 of A Perilous Passion

A world in which she could be kissed thoroughly by an experienced man and no one need ever know…

“Charlotte?”

“I beg your pardon, my lord? I mean Mr. Seabourne. Oh, hang it. Whoever you are.”

His warm breath wafted her hair. “It wasn’t too clever to shout ‘my lord,’ after I swore you to silence last night. Please, I’m Mr. Seabourne, except when we’re alone. Completely alone and out of earshot of anyone else.” He leaned in closer to her ear and murmured, “When we’re alone, you must call me Rafe.”

She breathed in deeply, drowning in his delicious masculine scent. “And you must call me Charlotte.”

She felt him smile against her temple. “Charlotte,” he whispered. “Even so, I can’t be angry at you. You had every chance to share your knowledge of me with your friends, and you didn’t.”

She shook the tangled thoughts out of her head and came back to earth with a bump. “You were listening to us?”

“From outside the window. There’s a very convenient rhododendron—”

Not even a superlative kiss was enough to make up for such cheek. Annoyance prickled up her spine. “What right do you have to listen to my private conversations with my friends?” she demanded. “To spy on us?”

He recoiled at her use of the word. “I prefer to call it information gathering,” he said stiffly. “But that wasn’t what I was doing just now. I was checking you weren’t being watched.”

“But I was being watched. By you!”

“Please keep your voice down. Remember our situation. If you’d just let me explain, without interruption…” In a softer tone, he said, “But before I do, I want to thank you for defending me, and not simply accepting what the entire world believes—that I’m a coward.”

She was in no mood to be thanked. How horrible that he’d been listening to her private conversation! She ground out, “One might be tempted to think you are a coward, when all you seem to do is hide yourself away.”

He straightened. “That’s unfair, especially coming from an outspoken chit who does nothing but sit around all day sewing and musing about who’s available for marriage.”

“It’s raining,” she replied indignantly. “I couldn’t go out. Believe me, my life is far more interesting than that.”

He threw up his hands and appeared to rein in his temper. “Come,” he said after taking a deep breath. “Let’s not be at daggers drawn. I want to make amends.”

Her unruly mind immediately shot back to that kiss. He’d used what must be the flimsiest excuse for kissing anyone that had ever been dreamed up. Was that also what he had in mind for “amends”?

Before she could find out, she quickly said, “In that case, explain to me what you’re involved in that makes you so secretive.”

He regarded her for a long moment, as if actually considering her demand.

To her shock, at length he said, “Very well. If you swear you won’t tell a living soul what I’m about to divulge.”

“Of course I swear,” she said, with as much dignity as she could muster. He still hesitated, so she prodded, “Go on. I’m all ears.”

Finally, he told her. He explained that he feared the two free traders they’d seen at the cave might be watching her house. The only way to know was to watch it himself.

As he talked, she found herself struggling to concentrate on anything other than how gracefully his mouth moved.

She managed to comprehend that he was now satisfied no one in her household had given away his presence in the village, and that no one was watching her family with nefarious purpose in mind.

Except him, of course, she thought wryly. If climbing into a young lady’s bedchamber in the middle of the night wasn’t nefarious, she didn’t know what was.

Somewhere along the line he’d switched to the topic of his alleged cowardice.

“…the simple truth of the matter is that I try to avoid horses because some of them do occasionally make me sneeze, which was the case on the unlucky day of my last army maneuver against Napoleon. Because of an untimely sneeze, brave men could have died. As it was, vital intelligence was lost to our side. The shame of knowing I’d caused the debacle was unbearable, so I resigned my commission and left the army. If the ton wants to call that lack of courage, then so be it.”

By the end of his candid confession she felt truly horrified at the shoddy way he’d been treated by his so-called friends and peers. He’d done the honorable thing and been openly shunned for it.

“Can you do nothing when horses affect you? Is there no medicine you could take?”

“None that the army surgeons could think of—their skills lie elsewhere. And to be honest, I’m not that bothered by the affliction, despite what the gossips say. I can travel in a carriage or even ride, without ill affect—I just can’t predict when I’ll suffer and when I won’t. But I actually prefer to walk. You learn much more that way.”