SubmittingtotheRake by Em Brown

though it were a
tuning fork that could not cease its reverberation. What a muddle she had made
of herself! Though driven by good intentions, she had succeeded in
accomplishing nothing save making a proper fool of herself before the Earl of
Blythe. Her cheeks flushed at what he must think of her now.
    The most troubling aspect of it all was that she cared what
he thought.
    As she approached the house, her thoughts turned to
Josephine and the dreaded confrontation. How would she explain herself to her
cousin? She had reconciled herself to the prospect of losing Josephine’s
affection in exchange for “rescuing” her cousin from Lord Cadwell, but now that
her mission had proved a failure—and that she herself had succumbed to that
from which she had sought to protect Josephine—she no longer felt secure in her
standing.
    “Miss Merrill!” the maidservant at the door greeted her in
surprise, louder than Heloise would have liked. “We was in quite a state as to
where you might have gone off to.”
    “I went to call upon an ailing friend,” Heloise mumbled as
she glanced about for her cousin with a quickened pulse. “Where is Miss
Josephine?”
    “In the garden, I believe, with Mr. Webster.”
    Mr. Webster was a friend of Lord Cadwell and had called once
before on Josephine.
    “Is anyone else with them?”
    The maid shook her head. Heloise sighed at Josephine’s
disregard for a chaperone, but she was relieved too, that she might not have to
confront her cousin quite yet.
    “Shall I assist in your toilette, Miss Merrill?”
    With her skirts dust-covered from the walk, Heloise realized
she must have looked rather unkempt from her travels. They went upstairs to her
chambers, which now looked a tad drab compared to those at the Château Follet.
    As she unlaced her bonnet and shrugged out of her caraco,
she thought once again of Lord Cadwell, of his hands undressing her, his body
pressed against her. How quickly her apprehension had transformed to comfort in
his presence, as if they had been lovers for some time. She would never have
imagined that she could experience such ease with a man and that the words
“fuck me” would fall from her lips as effortlessly as a comment about the
weather.
    “Allow me.”
    Heloise whirled around. She had stepped out of her skirts
and awaited the maid to unlace her stays when Josephine appeared. Her breath
stalled.
    Josephine pulled at the ribbons without word. The frown upon
her lips and the stiffness of her hand “You know?” Heloise ventured.
    “I was awaiting the invitation. When none arrived and I
discovered you absent without any of the servants knowing your whereabouts, I suspected
your interference.”
    She forced a breath. “Forgive me, Josephine.”
    Josephine paused before replying, her voice quavering with
anger, “You are not my keeper, Heloise.”
    Heloise stared at the floor. “I know. I was wrong to have
intervened. I should not censure you were you to decide never to speak to me
again.”
    “Then why did you?” her cousin accused.
    Noble if not condescending sentiments, the earl had said.
    Heloise took a deep breath and looked into Josephine’s eyes.
“I was a fool.”
    With an exasperated sigh, Josephine flopped into an armchair
nearby. “You went all the way to Château Follet?”
    She nodded.
    “And spoke with Lord Cadwell?”
    “Yes.”
    “What did you say to him?”
    “I beseeched him not to besmirch your honor.”
    Josephine snorted. “What did he say?”
    “That I was intolerant and that you were not in leading
strings.”
    Her cousin pursed her lips as silence fell between them.
Heloise had stepped out of her stays and clasped her hands together. She had
prepared herself for Josephine’s wrath and was ready to receive it.
    “That is not your chemise,” Josephine observed with narrowed
eyes.
    Heloise eyed the undergarment with its lace edging. It was
more exquisite than any she owned and belonged to Lady Follet. However, Lady
Follet had a