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Rejecting the Rogue

Page 15

by Riley Cole


  Meena’s heart thumped against her ribs. He was going to kiss her.

  She wanted him to, quite badly.

  The first brush of his full lips against hers was so light, so full of promise, she thought she might cry with the joy of it.

  Impatient for more, she pressed against him. And like that, the gentleness disappeared. Crane cradled her head in his large hands, rubbing his thumbs gently across her cheekbones.

  It took forever for his lips to to touch hers.

  The wait was worth it.

  The electrical charge that ran through her body when his lips met hers seemed to lift her straight off the ground. When he opened his mouth atop hers, she sighed and opened herself to the possibilities of his kiss.

  The heat of his mouth promised passion. The gentleness promised some type of exquisite torture she couldn’t name.

  Meena let her eyelids flutter shut. She wanted to savor this, to feel him, taste him, to savor the connection between them, the way he coaxed her body to respond to his.

  She wasn’t aware of having done it. She only new that somehow, she had a fistful of his jacket in each hand. When he deepened the kiss, Meena met him step for step. She reveled his strength, reveled in the breath they shared.

  She reveled in doing the one thing, with the one person, she had never forgotten.

  10

  When Crane lifted his mouth from hers, he kept her close. He folded his arms around her back, cradling her in his embrace.

  Meena leaned her head against his broad chest and watched the swells undulate beneath the darkening sky. The sound of the waves wrapping around the pilings beneath them seemed to wrap them in a cocoon of their own. She would savor this night. She would tuck it close to her, a precious jewel not to be lost.

  Crane ran a hand up and down her back while the steady beat of his heart reverberated through her. She closed her eyes, trying to memorize the sound, memorize the feel of a man’s heart beating in rhythm with her own.

  Gently, Crane disengaged himself from her hold. He tucked a hand under her chin and raised her face until she met his gaze. “I think—"

  “We should go.” Meena finished for him. It would hurt less than hearing him say it. “I know.”

  Crane put a finger to her lips. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  She stared up at him, surprised. Kissing was something the man did on a regular basis. However rare—magical even—it was for her, for him it must be as unremarkable as eating toast or lacing his boots. He might kiss ten women a week for all she knew.

  Meena fussed with the bows that marched down the front of her bodice. He’d had enough practice.

  Crane grabbed her hands, stilling them. “What I was going to say was that I should very much like to do this again.”

  The twinkle in his dark eyes set her on fire.

  She avoided his gaze, choosing instead to focus on the tiny star winking below the bright moon. “I see. I would very much like to do that again as well.” She coughed delicately. “Should the opportunity arise.”

  Crane studied her as if she were a safe hiding a trove of diamonds. “I’ll make certain of it.”

  He held out his hand, indicating that Meena should lead the way around the outside of the arcade and back down the pier. The twilight lay like velvet over the busy carnival. Moonlight edged the top of the gentle swells flowing under the pier, and shone down on the ornate buildings and carnival booths, edging them in pale white light.

  It looked like a fairy land.

  Meena shook her head. It wasn’t like her to be so fanciful. Somehow, the glow of the moonlight, or more accurately, the glow from Crane’s spectacular kiss, had her feeling magical herself.

  And why not? Why shouldn’t she have one spectacular evening?

  Like Cinderella with her coach, the world would return to its boring, ordinary state. But for now magic reigned. She’d be a fool not to enjoy it.

  “There you are.” Alicia bounded up to them, her golden ringlets etched in moonlight. Her young man trailed close behind.

  Meena couldn’t look her in the eye. Her moment with Crane was too new, too intimate.

  Crane scanned the thinning crowd. “Have you seen your aunt?”

  Edward shook his head. “No sir.”

  Crane nodded. He continued on toward the beach. “Let’s check the jelly booth. She mentioned something about that.”

  “Oh yes,” Alicia agreed. “Her friend, Mrs. Haverstock, she said.”

  As Spencer moved forward, followed by Edward, Alicia put a hand on Meena’s shoulder, slowing her. “He kissed me,” she whispered. “Edward kissed me.”

  “How wonderful.” The singing energy that radiated out from her core had less to do with Alicia’s confession than her own moonlight kiss. “You enjoyed it?”

  Alicia’s grin could have lit the pier all on its own. “It was the most heavenly thing ever.” She twirled in place. “Everything I imagined. We were walking along the shore and we came to a bench. The sun was just setting. Edward took my hands in his, and then he kissed me.” Alicia sighed. “I shall remember it for the rest of my life.”

  Meena gave her a great hug. “You will. I know you will.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I’ve never known a woman who didn’t remember her first kiss.” She, herself, being at the top of that list.

  “I knew it. I told Edward so, but I don’t think he believed me.”

  “Men like to pretend they’re not sentimental. They fear it makes them appear weak.”

  “It makes them appear idiotic, is what it does.”

  “You have no idea.” Meena took her hand. “Idiotic as they are, we should go after them.”

  As the jelly stand came into view, Meena realized she felt as lighthearted as a child. Or how she imagined a normal child, with a normal upbringing should feel.

  For once, for however briefly it lasted, she felt as if she were a part of things. She knew so well how it felt to be an outsider. How it felt to pretend she was royalty, or an actress, or any of the millions of other things her con artist father had taught her. She so rarely felt a part of the life she was living. But now, in this moment, she and Alicia had experienced the same wonderful feelings, on the same beautiful evening.

  It was a gift she intended to savor.

  “She hasn’t been here.” Crane said when Alicia and Meena caught up with them. Behind him, a plump, matronly woman, was shaking her head.

  “I’ve been here all afternoon. I thought Emmeline would stop by. I know she wanted to buy a few pints of Mrs. Grisham’s current jelly, but she never made it.”

  The concerned look on Crane’s face put Meena on alert. “I’m sure something else must have caught her attention.”

  “Alicia. Edward. Head back to the house,” Crane directed. “Aunt Emmeline did seem done in today. She may have gone home early. If you find her, wait at the entrance to the aquarium. We’ll meet up with you there.”

  Alicia and her young man hurried off.

  “I’m sure she’s here somewhere,” Meena reasoned. “You don’t think Ramsay—?”

  “No.” Crane took her hands and drew her close. “I think Emmeline must be feeling more poorly than we thought.” He moved to draw her closer, but a movement to their side caught both of their attention. Mrs. Haverstock was standing in the middle of the jelly booth, her eyes wide.

  Crane dropped her hands and stepped back. He cleared his throat. “I’ll look on this side of the pier. Why don’t you take the other? We can meet up at the aquarium.”

  Meena wanted to giggle, but she schooled her face into a perfectly bland, perfectly acceptable expression. “A fine idea, Mr. Crane,” she said loudly, for the matron’s benefit. “I will see you in a moment.”

  By the time Meena had walked the length of the pier and back, it was full dark. Worry teased the edges of her mind, pushing her senses into high alert. Sights and smells and sounds had that increased clarity she knew so well.

&nb
sp; The palatial aquarium loomed behind her as she waited for Crane. The hulking frame crouched in the darkness, an ugly lump of a structure. With her nerves on edge now, she fancied she could feel the call of those dark tanks, pulsing with tons upon tons of water pressing—always pressing—against the glass.

  It wasn’t but a moment later that Crane appeared from around the corner, meandering, as if his attention were somewhere else. He was alone.

  “You didn’t find her?”

  Crane waited until he reached her to reply. “I did.”

  “And? Where is she?”

  Crane tugged at the edges of his jacket. Now that she could see him more closely, he looked utterly bemused. It wasn’t a look Meena often saw on his confident face.

  “Where is she?”

  Crane swallowed. Then he blinked. Several times. “My aunt is…” He shook his head. “My aunt is preoccupied. With a gentleman.”

  Meena felt her eyebrows rise to her hairline. She couldn’t stop the smile that broke across her face. “Good for her! Who is he? Is he someone you know?”

  Emmeline was such a delight. Smart and beautiful and unfailingly positive in outlook, it was a wonder the woman hadn’t been snatched up the minute her husband passed on.

  “It’s… I believe he is…” Crane cleared his throat. “I believe the man who owns the flower shop in town is courting my aunt.”

  Meena was torn between excitement for Emmeline, and surprise at how much it seemed to shock Crane.

  “Your aunt is a beautiful woman. She’d be a wonderful catch.”

  “I just never thought…”

  Meena waited while Crane shuffled from foot to foot. He was staring out at the thick wisps of fog rolling toward them down the wharf, but Meena had a hunch he wasn’t seeing any of it.

  “It never occurred to me.” Crane shook his head as if he’d just had his ears boxed. “Some day I'll be alone.”

  It wasn’t until she’d dried the same breakfast plate three times the next morning that Meena realized she was considerably muddle-headed. Given the events of the last twelve hours, however, she believed she could be forgiven if her head was spinning.

  Alicia was head over heels about Edward. Emmeline had been carrying on a secret romance with the owner of the flower shop, and she, she had allowed Crane—Spencer-the-Rogue Crane—to kiss her.

  Then she’d lain awake until the early morning hours, memorizing every exquisite detail.

  Emmeline lifted the plate from Meena’s hand. “Penny for your thoughts?”

  Meena stiffened. “I’m sure they’re not worth even a farthing this morning.” She wasn’t ready to talk about last night. It was too new, too confusing, to share. But she did want to hear more about Emmeline’s secret beau. A great deal more.

  She glanced around the empty kitchen. The Crane’s day maid, Mary, had gone off to strip the beds for wash day. Meena grinned at Emmeline. “Tell me about your mystery man.”

  Emmeline’s cheeks bloomed a delicate pink. “Herman.” Her gaze traveled to the riotous pot of daisies on top of the pie cupboard. “I’ve known him since I arrived in Brighton. We’re both at the Episcopalian church.”

  “And?” Meena tossed her drying rag on the table and leaned back against the sink. “How did you meet?”

  From the older woman’s expression, it was obvious how serious the relationship was. “His wife, Belva, and I were on the Easter committee together for years.”

  Emmeline frowned down at floor. “Herman was beside himself after she died. I never thought—" She smiled, a soft, sad smile. “I never thought he’d be ready to marry again after he lost Belva, but—”

  Meena dropped the dishrag. “He asked you?”

  “He did.” The older woman’s smile brightened. “But I told him I couldn’t marry until Alicia is launched.”

  “Oh no you don’t.” Meena took Emmeline by the shoulders. “Don’t delay your happiness. Alicia is a remarkable girl. She’ll adapt.”

  “That’s what Herman said.” She smiled. “He’s got two grown sons, fathers, both of them. But I’m not so sure he—”

  A sharp rap on the front door interrupted them.

  “I’ll get it.” Emmeline untied her apron and hurried off toward the parlor.

  A proposal. Imagine that. Meena busied herself stacking the plates back in the cupboard. She was so thrilled for Emmeline. The woman had dropped whatever prospects she had after Crane’s mother was murdered and helped him raise his baby sister, not a question asked. Meena closed the cupboard door. How delightful for her to find a mate after so many years.

  The scent of roses wafted into the kitchen ahead of Emmeline’s return. The bouquet of deep red roses she carried was so large, it hid the entire top of her body.

  “How stunning!” Meena had rarely seen roses so perfect, so velvety red, so passionate. “I insist you marry that man immediately, if only for the flowers.”

  “They’re not for me.” Emmeline thrust the gigantic bouquet at Meena. “It appears you have an admirer of your own.”

  For her?

  Meena held the arrangement at eye level, turning it this way and that, searching for a card. But she had never…

  A stray tear welled up. She blinked rapidly. No one had ever thought to give her even the odd drooping violet, or brown-edged corsage, let alone such a splendid offering.

  “I have it here.” Emmeline plucked a white envelope from the front pocket of her apron and handed it to her.

  Meena set the flowers aside and tore it open.

  To adventure.

  Fondly, S.

  Meena crushed the card to her chest. She hardly knew what to think. She’d relived every second of that kiss over and over again, late into the night. Even as she did, she knew Crane had not. He was decades ahead of her in that type of experience.

  She was a grown woman. She could live with that.

  She just wasn’t sure how to live with him.

  And now this.

  She picked up the vase and buried her nose in the soft petals. Flowers. No one had ever thought enough of her to buy something so frivolous, so lovely, so romantic.

  Emmeline watched her quietly, a soft smile lighting her face. “I’d ask you they’re from, but I believe I have a good idea.”

  Meena opened her mouth, but she had no idea what to say. It was all so new she didn’t want to advertise.

  It would make things so much worse when she and Crane parted ways.

  Emmeline’s smile bloomed into a wide grin. “My nephew is not the most talkative of men. However, some things don’t have to be said. Why don’t you set those in the parlor? There’s a perfect spot right next to the window.”

  Meena nodded. She wrapped her hands around the cool glass of the vase.

  Emmeline put a hand on her arm before she could leave the kitchen. “You’re the first one I’ve told about Herman. I’m not sure I’m ready…”

  Meena moved the flowers aside so she could look the older woman in the face. “Your secret is safe. I completely understand.” More than Emmeline could imagine.

  Emmeline pecked her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  Meena had just reached the parlor when the front door opened. Over the tops of the red blooms, she could see Crane, and her cousins Briar and Edison, all rushing in the front door.

  “How beautiful!” Briar exclaimed. She followed Meena over to the table and sniffed at the bouquet.

  Behind her, Crane was staring at Meena. She met his gaze. She had no idea how he did it, but without a word spoken, she knew he wanted to hold her, wanted to kiss her.

  Her knees trembled.

  “These are fantastic.” Briar palmed a soft bloom. “Who sent them?“

  “They are…” Meena twisted her fingers together. “Well, that is…” She looked to Crane for assistance.

  Instead of helping her, he rocked back on his heels, an idiotic grin plastered across his face. He took off his derby and hung it on the coat rack next to the door.

  “
We found Ramsay.” Edison took off his hat as well.

  “That’s wonderful." Bless her cousin for changing the subject. Meena rushed forward to take Edison’s hat and put it up.

  “Found his lodgings.” Edison strode across the room to study the kaleidoscope resting on a side table. “But more importantly,” he said, as he put the toy to his eye and spun the colored wheel, “We found out where he drinks.”

  Briar swiped the toy from her brother and examined the delicate workmanship. “He’s at the same nasty little pub every day. There’s a nice narrow alleyway, at the back. If we pick our time right, won’t be any witnesses around. Easy enough to scoop him off the street.”

  “Just need to find a way to get him to come out.” Edison grabbed the kaleidoscope back from his sister. ”We should take him tomorrow evening. No point in waiting.”

  “I agree.” Crane nodded. “But what about the jewels? We need to make sure he gets caught if he chooses not to cooperate.”

  Briar grinned. “Already have them. Easiest heist I’ve ever done.” She shook her head, clearly disgusted. “The duchess across the square from Blackborough left a pair of earrings on her vanity. Three carats worth of diamonds at least, just sitting there for anybody that might wander past.” She dropped her purse on the table. It landed with a distinct thunk.

  Meena rolled her eyes. Weighted down with throwing stars, no doubt.

  Edison squinted through the long tube and twirled the end of the toy, sending the colored glass spinning. “He’s staying at a boarding house down by the wharf. Easy to get in. We were thinking Briar could plant the jewelry in his room while we handle Ramsay.”

  Crane looked at Briar. “Are you sure?”

  “Most definitely. Edison and I already looked it over. His room’s on the first floor.” She waved away Crane’s concern. “No challenge at all.”

  And then it would be over.

  A sharp jab hit Meena right below the breastbone.

  It would be over. Her dalliance—or whatever one called a shared moment of passion—with Crane would be over.

  She squeezed her fingers together until her knuckles ground against each other. “It sounds like that’s it then. We grab him tomorrow, and it’s over.”

 

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