A Good Debutante's Guide to Ruin_The Debutante Files

She stopped beside Dec. He offered his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her through the house.

In the foyer, he addressed the butler. “Send all of Miss Hughes’s belongings to this address.” He presented his card. The butler nodded as he took it.

Dec led her to the carriage out front and assisted her inside. Once seated across from her, he knocked on the ceiling. The carriage lurched forward.

She carefully angled her legs, avoiding his longer legs. “Thank you,” she murmured after several awkward moments.

He shook his head, not wanting her gratitude. Not feeling he deserved it. “I’m sorry—”

“You already apologized and it’s really not necessary.” She smoothed her hands over her skirts.

“You were my responsibility—”

“But I’m not.” She plucked at her skirts. “We’re not even kin. Melisande is my family. Just like she said. She’s my mother. Why are you even doing this for me?”

He turned his attention from the window to stare at her. “I agreed to see you married. I settled a dowry on you and agreed to sponsor you through the Season. That’s why. That’s why you are my responsibility.”

She swallowed, nodding. She opened her mouth to thank him again but stopped herself. She had already thanked him. “I assume Aurelia came to you and told you.”

“Yes. Don’t be vexed with her. She was worried about you.”

She nodded, understanding. Aurelia was a friend. The first she had since leaving Harwich. She couldn’t be angry with her. “I owe her my thanks. I didn’t want to come to you. I wouldn’t have.”

His words came quickly. “Why not? Why didn’t you? Something—” He stopped hard and took a breath before continuing. “Something could have happened to you. Do you understand that?”

He meant Horley could have happened. If she had been weaker. Or simply more trusting. More naive.

“I was embarrassed. And maybe I was afraid that you wouldn’t care.” It was embarrassing to even admit that, but she did. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t want to help me.” She stared down at her hands. “That you wouldn’t come.”

He sighed, and she wasn’t sure what she heard in that sound. Resignation? Disappointment? In her or himself? “I care.”

Her gaze flew to his face at that.

“And I’ll always come when you need me, Carrots.”

Did he mean that? It was more than any one person had ever promised her. She most especially had not expected it of him.

The intensity in his green gaze struck her hard, and anxiety skittered along her nerves. What if he knew the truth? What if he learned she was the same masked girl he had kissed? For the first time, she was tempted to tell him. And only to see if perhaps he would kiss her again. Her lips ached. The memory of his mouth was forever imprinted there.

The temptation to confess the truth to him lasted only a fraction of a moment. As soon as the thought entered her mind, it fled. He would not forget who she was and take her in his arms to pick up where they left off. He was honorable. Despite his unsavory reputation, he would never cross that line with a female under his protection. Rest assured, her virtue was safe under his watch.

And why did that fill her with such hollowness?





Chapter 18


She did not see Dec for the rest of the day. Shortly after returning home, Aunt Peregrine and Aurelia arrived, luggage and a growling Lady Snuggles in tow once again. They hugged her warmly and chattered happily, making her feel like she had, in truth, come home.

“Aurelia.” Rosalie pulled her aside while Aunt Peregrine went off in search of a treat for Lady Snuggles. Apparently the beast deserved a reward after her jaunt across Town yet again. “I—”

“I’m sorry,” Aurelia blurted, grasping her hands. “I know I abused your trust by going to—”

“Thank you,” she cut in, looking her friend squarely in the eyes. “You did me a favor I shan’t ever forget.”

Aurelia smiled in relief and released her hands to hug her. “I’m so glad you came to be here. How terrible if you never came to be in our lives.”

Dinner was a leisurely affair. Rosalie dined with Aurelia and Aunt Peregrine. Dec was conspicuously absent. They discussed which social engagements they should schedule into their agenda. She chimed in, but her gaze continually strayed to his empty chair, wondering at his whereabouts. She didn’t inquire despite her curiosity. It was better if he was scarce. His proximity made her too nervous by far.

She knew it was likely he wouldn’t guess it had been her at Sodom. Not if he hadn’t already done so. But she didn’t trust that she wouldn’t give herself away with a touch, a lingering glance. After being so intimate with him, she found it difficult to resume as though they were polite acquaintances.

After dinner, she enjoyed a warm bath before changing into her nightgown. The sky was just purpling into dusk, but she slipped into bed, exhausted, her muscles melting into the mattress. A pleased sigh shuddered from her lips. She was so relieved that she could sleep without fear. In peace that no one would enter her room uninvited.

She was asleep almost the instant she closed her eyes.

Rosalie woke to a darkened chamber. Her mind groped in the darkness for a moment, struggling to remember precisely where she was. She inhaled, but there was no scent of the lavender rushes that Mrs. Heathstone always framed the windows with. No sound of howling wind on the moors outside. Gradually, memory returned. Along with all that had happened. Where she was. What she had done and with whom. She was a long way from Yorkshire. It felt a lifetime since Mrs. Heathstone unceremoniously dumped her on her stepbrother’s doorstep.

She wasn’t certain the precise hour, but she knew it was not yet morning. She lay in bed for several moments longer, expecting to fall back to sleep. She had been tired enough to sleep well into tomorrow afternoon. Or so she thought.

After half an hour of staring into the dark, she pushed back the counterpane, donned her night rail and left her room, giving up on sleep. Nothing stirred as she made her way to the library. She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The remnants of a fire burned in the hearth, the crumble of incinerated wood cracking softly as it cast a dull glow throughout the room.

Well familiar with the library’s layout by now, she made her way to the wall of shelves housing the novels. Squinting, she peered at the spines. She was debating rereading one of her favorite of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels, or something called The Black Tulip that looked relatively new.

“Looking for a little late night reading? I thought you would be asleep by now.”

She spun around, clutching the book close to her chest. Dec stood in the doorway, jacketless, without his cravat, wearing only his shirt and breeches.

She sucked in a breath. She could well imagine his muscled chest. Her heart kicked hard against her ribs. “I was asleep. I’m afraid I woke and can’t seem to fall back to sleep again.”

Nodding, he walked fully into the room, his hessians whispering softly over the rug. “This is my favorite room in the house.” He moved to the hearth and lifted the guard away so he could add several more logs to the fire. She studied his movements, appreciating the hard lines of his body. Straightening, he waved to the plump sofa before the hearth. “I’ve spent many a night on that sofa. Reading a book, staring into the flames until I fell asleep. Perhaps you should try it?”