Free Miss Ryder's Memoirs by Laura Matthews

burns nor a ray of light pierces the draperies.” His voice was like silk and I felt myself swallow hard. “I was not suggesting something improper. Your brother is a great friend of mine, remember. That is not a friendship I would jeopardize for the kind of accommodation I can so easily find elsewhere."
    I drew back sharply from him, though he still retained his hold on my wrist. “I knew you were a rake! From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the most outrageous creature.”
    He laughed. “And from the moment I laid eyes on you, my fair one, I knew you had the kind of fiery spirit that would warm me a little too much for my own good.” He had raised himself up on one elbow. It was plain to me that he had no nightshirt on, and I trembled slightly. “I have no intention of ravishing you, though I don’t say you are wrong about my reputation.”
    “Amanda could not be brought to speak so much as a word to you if she knew you were anything of the sort.”
    A brief, strange smile gave way to a mock-serious frown. “I know. You won’t divulge my secret, will you? Just at this point in our acquaintance, I fear Miss Amanda would not believe you. It would make you look too much like a spoilsport, since there is no way you could offer proof of such a thing.”
    He was perfectly right, though it galled me to admit it. “I’m sure in time you will demonstrate it admirably without my help,” I said huffily. “Please release my arm.”
    “Certainly.” Though he loosened his fingers, he did not actually let go of my hand. Instead, he drew it to his lips and kissed the tender skin on the inside of my wrist. A slight suction there caused a most astonishing sensation in the pit of my stomach. I had every intention of pulling my hand away from him, then, but he continued to kiss it, the tips of my fingers, and the back of my hand until I seemed to tingle all over.
    Somehow it would have felt rude of me to withdraw it just at that point. With his head bent down and the thick brown hair so close that I could have touched it with my lips, I found myself frozen. When he withdrew and beckoned me to lower my head, I shook it fiercely and backed away from him. With a sigh of regret, he released my hand. I fled from the room. Well, what could I possibly have said to him at a time like that?
    Afraid that he would follow me, I hastily gathered my covers from the floor and lumped them in my arms. I raced for my room and closed the door with a decided thump, leaning against it and breathing so hard you would have thought I’d run all the way up the peak behind Hastings in a minute flat. What was he thinking of to behave that way with me in the middle of the night? Or any other time, for that matter? Had he kissed Amanda’s hand like that?
    There was something alarming about this man. First thing in the morning I planned to write Robert, asking hard questions about Sir John. If he was a rogue, I wanted to know. Being a rake was another matter entirely. A man of his age and looks and prospects was rather expected to be a bit of a hand with the ladies, but if he treated them dishonorably, that was something different. I only hoped my brother would be open with me about what was going on. As I climbed into bed, I decided to post my letter in town—much safer than having it lie about on the salver in the hall where someone might see and remove it.
    I closed my eyes and the next thing I knew it was late in the morning, with the sun streaming through my window. Late, in our household, is about ten o’clock. I would have missed breakfast entirely, except that Mama was forced to leave the food out longer on account of Cousin Bret never appearing before that hour. Which meant that I would be forced to share my meal with him. If I hadn’t been so hungry, I would have skipped my breakfast entirely.
    Sure enough, he was seated there in all his sartorial splendor. He had never understood the concept of dressing informally in the