The Rake by Georgeanne Hayes Read Free Book Online Page B

gobble you up the moment you came close
enough. An’ you flutterin’ all nervous around the room, like the
little bird that knows that old cat’s just waitin’ for you to make
the wrong move.”
    Demi blushed all over again, but frowned as
she crawled into her bed and pulled the covers up. “You’re just
saying that,” she said, doubt and hope warring for dominance.
    “ I wouldn’t say it if I
didn’t know it was true,” Sarah assured her, dampening a towel in
the washbowl and then moving to the small fire on the hearth and
holding the cloth out to catch the heat. “I’ve been around enough
to know what that look in a man’s eyes means.”
    Demi sighed, stilling the nervous fluttering
of her heart with an effort, but she forced a smile. “I’m glad you
told me. At least that’s something … even though … even though
nothing could ever come of it.”
    Sarah’s brows rose. “Why would nothing come
of it? He’s taken a fancy to you. You’ve taken a fancy to him.”
    Demi shook her head. “He’s a peer of the
realm, Sarah. I’m … a nobody and as poor as a church mouse. It
wouldn’t be a suitable match. I know it, and he knows it, too, I
can assure you.”
    Sarah flipped the towel over, fanning it.
“He’s poor, too?”
    Demi grimaced. “I don’t
think so. Aunt Alma wouldn’t let him near her precious Phoebe if he
was. At any rate, if he was, it would be even more unsuitable, for
then he’d have to
marry a woman of wealth. What are you doing, anyway?”
    Sarah grinned. “Yer aunt’ll be back. I’m
thinkin’ she’ll be less inclined to linger if yer hot and
flushed.”
    Demi stared at the cloth for several moments
while that comment slowly sank in. Almost as if on cue, she heard
someone coming along the hallway. Signaling frantically for the
cloth, Demi pressed it to her face and lay back, listening
intently. She knew almost immediately that it was her aunt. It
seemed doubtful she would knock. She wasn’t in the habit of doing
so at any time, and she was convinced Demi was up to something
tonight. The moment the footsteps paused outside her door, Demi
snatched the cloth off her face and shoved it under the covers.
    The door flew open. Demi raised up slightly,
peering through blurred eyes at the door. By the time she’d managed
to blink the steaming moisture from her eyes and focus, Alma
Moreland’s expression had gone from rage to one of suspicion.
Stalking across the room, she stared down at Demi for several
moments. “I came to check on you. Where have you been?”
    Demi licked her dried lips. “I was ill. I
went out to the necessary.”
    Her aunt’s lips tightened. After a moment’s
hesitation, she touched Demi’s face. “You may have a touch of
fever,” she concluded ungraciously. “Mr. Flemming was not at all
pleased with your behavior today. He’s to call tomorrow to take you
on an outing. Unless you’re at death’s door, I suggest you be ready
to greet him with more warmth.”
    Turning, she stalked from the room and
slammed the door behind her.
    Sarah glared indignantly at
the door, her hands on her hips. “ Might have a touch of fever? An’ yer
face as red as blood and hot as fire!”
    Demi couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know
very well I don’t have a fever,” she said, fishing the damp cloth
from beneath her coverlet and handing it to Sarah.
    Sarah looked at her, but
she didn’t seem appeased in the least. “Aye, but she didn’t, the old
battle ax. Yer not goin’ to let her push ye into marryin’ that man,
are ye?”
    Demi’s amusement vanished. “I don’t have a
choice.”
    “ His lordship might have
somethin’ to say to that if someone was to let him
know.”
    Demi swallowed against a sudden lump in her
throat. “You’re such a romantic, Sarah! He knows.”
    “ But does he know yer sweet
on him?”
    She blushed. “I think so.”
    Sarah frowned. “Maybe he only needs a little
nudge.”
    Demi sighed. “Aunt Alma would have me
shipped off to the