A Confirmed Rake by Keyes Martha

Author:Keyes, Martha
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

VALENTINE

I stilled, staring at Rebecca. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of things: curiosity, wariness, anxiety.

“Who did you hear that from?” I asked. But I was fairly certain I already knew. “The Bradleys?”

She rubbed her lips together and nodded. “I thought perhaps they were referring to Mr. Sutcliffe, that it was a political term or some such thing, but I think it was rather Miss White to whom they were applying the term. What does it mean?”

I closed my eyes, feeling a bit sick at the discussion I found myself in. “Rebecca . . .” I shook my head, not meeting her gaze.

“You said you would answer my question,” she said, seeming to sense my hesitation.

“I said you could ask me a question,” I corrected.

The look of betrayal in her eyes burned my conscience, for my agreement to the question had been an implicit willingness to answer. And yet, I was hesitant.

Earlier this evening, Diana had accused me of being concerned with Rebecca’s opinion of me being tainted, and I knew now that she was right. I did fear that. No one else in this world viewed me the way Rebecca did. She was determined to think the best of me, to describe my eyes as kind and deep. Was it so wrong to wish to preserve that?

It would be unforgivably selfish, particularly in the face of the young woman before me. She was asking for my help, asking me to help her navigate a Society she did not understand.

I let out a large sigh. “A Paphian is . . .” Dash it all! Why was it so hard to say the words? “It is a woman who offers herself as a . . . companion to men who wish for one.”

“A companion,” she repeated, as though she was trying to understand what that word encompassed.

“Not the sort of company your brother would wish for you to keep,” I said. “I regret that you were made to share a box with Nellie—or Mr. Sutcliffe, for that matter.”

“Nellie,” she said. “That is Miss White?”

I nodded, regretting the informality. I had never referred to her as anything but her given name.

“And that is why she said she was your particular friend.”

My lips pressed together. “Yes.”

“And now Miss White is Mr. Sutcliffe’s Paphian?”

The way she used the word might have been humorous to some, but I had no desire to laugh. “Yes.”

She swallowed, and I wished I could see into her mind and know what she was thinking.

“If I had known,” she said, “I would have found some excuse not to share their box. I am sorry for putting you in a . . . difficult position.”

I blinked. “What?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I knew you were not in a good humor throughout the evening, but I hadn’t realized that you were experiencing the pain of jealousy.”

I struggled to respond. She thought I had been out of humor because I was jealous?

“It cannot be easy to see Miss White and Mr. Sutcliffe together.

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