Page 8 of Raked Away in September

Her rosy lips parted in a wordless sound of surprise, but then she gave a hesitant nod.

Elation surged within him, and he cupped her face gently, staring down at her, his heart racing as though this was his first kiss. Would it be hers? He liked the thought of that. He liked it very much.

Rowan leaned in, giving her plenty of time to retreat, but she remained still, her gaze fixed on his, her pulse fluttering visibly in the hollow of her throat.

He finally claimed her mouth in a gentle exploration, letting his lips dance chastely against the pillowy softness of hers. Tamsin answered with a soft sigh that vibrated through his chest. She was obviously willing but untutored, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her or frighten her. Instead, he simply let himself drown in her beautiful innocence.

His hand slid to the nape of her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with a tenderness that surprised him. He felt a sudden, protective warmth swell in his chest. This wasn’t the hollow thrill he was used to; this was something quite different.

He broke the kiss slowly, his forehead resting against hers. They were both breathing a little faster, the air between them charged. Arousal pulsed within them, but he would not press her further. He would wait until she was ready. He wanted to wait until she was ready.

“Well,” Rowan whispered, a genuine smile touching his lips. “I think that is a very promising start, Miss Tamsin.”

Tamsin looked at him, her blue eyes bright with a dawning hope that mirrored his own. “Yes,” she agreed softly, her voice shaky. “I believe it is.”

“Shall I go procure a special license?” he asked.

She closed her eyes briefly and then nodded. He hated that she obviously felt forced into this, that the Belle had given her no other option, but he also realized fully that were it not for the Belle’s lies, he never would have found himself engaged to a woman like Tamsin. He was well aware that he didn’t deserve her.

“Let’s set the wedding date for this Friday. I’ll be in touch later today to discuss everything in more detail with your brother.” He gave her a tentative smile and then turned to leave.

“Lord Haversham,” she called when he was almost to the door.

He paused with his hand on the knob, and a smile curved his lips. “If we’re to be wed, I think you must call me Rowan.”

“Rowan…” She met his gaze imploringly, but he was still reeling from the sound of his name on her lips for the very first time. “Please don’t do this if you don’t plan to give it your all.”

He forced a smile, hoping he could be the man she needed him to be and fearing he was not. “One thing you’ll learn about me, Tamsin. I don’t do anything halfway.”

Chapter Five

When Rowan Blackwood left the drawing room, Tamsin sank into the nearest chair, her hands still trembling as she pressed them against the cool silk of her skirts.

He was not what she had expected.

She had prepared herself for a shallow fop or a leering predator—the kind of man who would happily take credit for a conquest he hadn’t made. But Rowan Blackwood was... Well, he was neither shallow nor leering. He was far more intelligent than he had any right to be. And he had been… nice.

Worst of all was the guilt that now curled in her stomach. He was a rake, yes, but he had been caught in the Brazen Belle’s web because of her. If she hadn’t been in the Dark Walks, he would have slipped away with his lover, his reputation—such as it was—intact. Instead, he’d generously agreed to marry her. It seemed too good to be true, so of course, she didn’t trust it. Or him.

“I want this to be a marriage in truth.”

The details of the strange agreement they’d come to bounced around in her head. Surely, he didn’t truly mean to be faithful to her? A man like him would become bored with someone like her in a matter of days.

But that kiss he’d given her… She’d never imagined such passion was possible. The tiniest bit of hope flared within her. Perhaps there was a minute possibility that this could work. Besides, what other choice did she have? If she didn’t marry him, she’d live the rest of her life exiled to the country, never to have children or be received in polite society ever again. She didn’t care much about being exiled from society, but she did want children. She wanted them very badly. She’d spent enough time as a wallflower to have seen what it was like to remain a spinster, to be miserably alone, sitting on the sidelines as the world slipped by without you.

“Miss Tamsin?”

She jumped at the sound of the butler’s voice. Greyson stood in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral.

“Lady Rose Sinclair has arrived, my lady. She is... quite distressed. I have placed her in the morning room.”

“Thank you, Greyson. I will go to her at once.”

She’d been so distracted by the Belle’s article that she hadn’t thought of Rose since this morning. A new pang of guilt assailed her.

Tamsin found Rose pacing by the window, her face blotchy from crying. The moment the door closed, Rose threw herself into Tamsin’s arms.

“Oh, Tamsin! I saw the Belle’s horrible article!” Rose cried into her shoulder, sobbing so hard that Tamsin struggled to understand her. “It’s all my fault. I should never have gone to meet Cedric. I should have listened to you. And now the Belle says—she says you and the earl⁠—”