Page 13 of Dare to Risk it All

“I am not being silly,” he said, irritated that she should let him off the hook so easily. He was many things, but never silly. “I took advantage of your innocence, or did you miss the part where I had my hand on your breast? For I certainly did not.”

“Of course I didn’t miss it,” she said, laughing. “It was one of the best bits, but I think you are becoming a trifle overwrought.”

It was one of her best bits, murmured his inner voice with satisfaction, recalling the lavish handful with far too much clarity. Raphe shook it off and tried to get back to the point. What was the point again? Oh, yes. “I ought never to have kissed you at all!” he said, remembering too late Lord Rothborn’s stern command to keep his hands, and every other part of him, off Miss Cadogan. And he’d been in her company for less than twenty-four hours. Well, this was going marvellously well.

“Christ, I ought to be locked up,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “I’m not fit to be in the company of ladies.”

“Don’t be….” Miss Cadogan hesitated at the warning look he shot her. “Dramatic. Of course you are, you’re just a bit out of practise, and who can wonder when you spend all your time with light skirts and opera dancers.”

Raphe groaned. “Damnation, you ought not know the least thing about light skirts and opera dancers.”

“Whyever not? I’m unwed, not deaf, dumb, and blind. Though I ought to remind you not to swear in front of me. Not that I give a hoot, but some old tabby might overhear one day and reprimand you for it,” she pointed out reasonably, but Raphe had gone far beyond being reasonable.

He wanted to hit something or, better yet, have someone hit him. He deserved it. Perhaps he should confess to Rothborn and take his punishment. The notion did not appeal.

“Are you going to have a hysterical fit?” she asked, her green eyes alight as she studied him with concern.

“I don’t know,” Raphe muttered. His chest was tight, and he felt nauseous. What was wrong with him? All he’d had to do was not kiss Miss Cadogan, and he’d failed miserably. He rubbed at his chest with the heel of his hand. “Possibly a nervous collapse.”

He jolted as he felt Miss Cadogan’s touch upon him, a tender caress against his cheek.

“Don’t!” he yelped, terrified that he might lose control of himself and really go beyond the pale.

“Goodness me, but you’re awfully high strung,” she said, a wondering expression upon her lovely features. “I think you ought to come and sit down.”

“I don’t want to—” Raphe protested, but she tugged at his hand, pulling him inexorably towards a large tree stump at the side of the path. He gave up and allowed her to manage him. Heaven knew someone needed to, for he didn’t seem able to manage himself.

He sat down with a thud and Miss Cadogan stared down at him, considering.

“Perhaps you should put your head between your knees?” she offered.

“I am not going to swoon,” he retorted, nettled.

“Are you quite sure?” she asked.

Raphe glared at her, and then let out a breath as he saw the mischief dancing in her eyes.

“Wretched girl. I’m sorry I ever met you,” he groused.

“A common refrain,” she agreed with a shrug.

Despite himself, Raphe’s lips twitched.

“Why aren’t you married?” he demanded, wondering what kind of milk-and-water sapskulls were populating the ton if they’d been so utterly idiotic as to overlook this glorious creature.

She gave a very unladylike snort. “Because I’m dreadful,” she said, laughing at him. “As you have pointed out several times already.”

Raphe frowned. “Yes, but, no. I mean….” He shook his head, wondering what on earth he did mean. “You are dreadful, obviously, but it’s….”

“It’s?” she prompted when he didn’t answer.

Raphe remembered he wasn’t supposed to encourage any closeness between them and shrugged, looking away.

“I’m twenty-four in February,” she mused, giving a despondent sigh. “An old maid. An ape leader. On the shelf.”

“Oh, come now,” Raphe said, annoyed. He wanted to shake the men of the ton for making her feel unwanted, whilst at the same time he was glad, glad they’d not noticed what he had seen at once. “You’re hardly in your dotage. There’s bound to be some amiable chap just desperate for the opportunity to marry you.”

The thought of someone else marrying her made something cold and unpleasant squirm in his stomach, and he thought he might be sick.