SubmittingtotheRake by Em Brown Page A

slender figure and the chemise stretched visibly over Heloise’s
body. She searched her mind for a reasonable explanation but contrived nothing.
Now Josephine would be livid…
    “What happened at the château, Heloise?”
    Her mouth opened, but no words emerged. Helpless and
embarrassed, she could only look at Josephine stupidly.
    “Heloise, did you and Lord Cadwell…?”
    She dropped her gaze and felt her cheeks redden.
    Josephine shook her head. “That rake! I wonder that he
accepted you for a replacement?”
    Heloise looked at her cousin. “I am sure he was exceedingly
disappointed.”
    Silence. Then a sly smile pulled at the corner of
Josephine’s mouth. “Well, Heloise. I must say that such display of boldness on
your part is quite surprising!”
    “I will no longer attempt to thwart your acquaintance with
him,” Heloise assured her.
    Josephine sniffed. “Indeed! Imagine what would be said of
you if it should be discovered you spent the night at Château Follet. I think
you shall no longer lord over me simply because you are my senior. But did Lord
Cadwell make mention of when he would repair my stolen invitation?”
    A shameful seed of jealousy threatened to sprout, but
Heloise suppressed the feeling. “He did not.”
    Josephine knit her brows for a moment, but then waved a hand
dismissively. “The invitation is no great loss, though admittedly, I was quite
furious when it dawned on me what you had done. But if the Earl of Blythe will
not replicate the invitation to Château Follet, Mr. Webster will.”
    Heloise said nothing.
    “Tell me, is Lord Cadwell as divine as rumored?”
    And more , Heloise thought. She noted the mischievous
sparkle in her cousin’s eye.
    “He is!” Josephine exclaimed. “For you are blushing as
scarlet as a pimpernel.”
    “Only because I have made a royal fool of myself. He proved
me for a hypocrite.”
    “I own it is a relief to find you are not quite so virtuous.
It is rather taxing to think that I am somehow short of character when compared
to you.”
    Heloise let out a shaky breath. “I think that I owe you my
confidence, dear cousin, but I was compromised long before this.”
    Josephine’s eyes turned into saucers.
    “Of my own volition,” Heloise added. “Perhaps that is why I
thought it no large matter to…to lie with Lord Cadwell.”
    “And I had been led to believe you were the virtuous one!”
    “When your father was kind enough to take me in, I vowed I
would not bring shame upon him—or you, Josephine. You are my only family and
far too dear to me.”
    “But you ought not advise me to adhere to expectations you
yourself have not fulfilled.”
    “Your prospects, Josephine, are much greater than mine.”
    “Yes, yes, but it is so much more pleasurable to succumb.”
    Heloise sighed in agreement. She sat down on the bed, and
the two shared a moment of silence.
    “There is no purpose in protecting me, Heloise. I had
surrendered my maidenhead a year ago.”
    Now it was Heloise’s turn to be surprised. “Of your own
volition? Did you consider the consequences?”
    “Did you?” Josephine retorted.
    “Touché.”
    “Where is the harm if no one knows?”
    “I wish we had shared our confidences earlier. Perhaps all
this could have been avoided.”
    “Perhaps. But then you would not have experienced the
embrace of Lord Cadwell.”
    Heloise thought of the desire that had been stoked to life
by the earl. The hunger had lain dormant these years—suppressed—and she had
lamented its awakening at first. But perhaps she could exalt in its vigor
instead? Why should the thrill of it turn sour simply because she could not be
with Lord Cadwell?
    Looking at her cousin, she saw that Josephine’s countenance
had softened. “I hope that someday you may forgive me, Josephine.”
    “I may be cross with you still,” Josephine said, but a faint
smile tugged at one corner of her lips. “But I do prefer the Heloise I know
now.”
    Heloise felt as if a boa had