she had gone outside, then she deserved to be punished. And it was the Earl of Thornhill with whom she had gone outside. And she had allowed him to kiss her.
She went home and to bed some time early in the morning, weary to the point of exhaustion, only to find that she could not sleep. She tried wrapping herself about with the warmth of the knowledge that in just a little over a week’s time there was to be the dinner at the Earl of Rushford’s and her betrothal was to be announced. After that all would be well. She would spend more time with Lionel and get to know him better. He would kiss her. There would be all the excitement of their approaching wedding. She pictured him as he had appeared this evening, handsome enough to bring an ache to her throat. He was hers—the man she loved, the man she was to marry.
And yet her mind kept straying to dark, compelling eyes and long, artistic fingers. She kept feeling his mouth on hers and reliving her surprise at the discovery that his lips had been slightly parted so that she had felt the soft moistness of the inside of his mouth. She kept remembering the physical sensations that had accompanied the kiss—the strange tightening in her breasts, the aching throb between her legs.
She kept remembering that she had talked to him and listened to him. She had revealed far more of herself than she had ever done with Lionel, and had learned more of him than she knew of her own betrothed. He had convinced her that whatever had been in his past he had now reformed his ways and was prepared to live a responsible life. And then he had kissed her.
She felt sinful and spoiled. And unwillingly fascinated by the memories.
The morning brought with it no relief. Tired and dispirited, she wandered into Samantha’s room only to find her cousin sitting quietly at the window, heavy-eyed.
“Have you been crying?” she asked, alarmed. Samantha never cried.
“No,” Samantha said, smiling quickly. “I am just tired after last night. We were warned that the Season would be exhausting, Jenny, and it sounded marvelous, did it not? It has hardly started yet, and already it is simply—exhausting.”
Jennifer sat down beside her. “Did you not enjoy last night’s ball?” she asked. “You had a partner for each set. You danced twice with a few of them.” Lionel, for example.
“I enjoyed it.” Samantha got to her feet. “Let’s go down to breakfast, shall we? And perhaps for a walk in the park afterward to blow away the cobwebs? I can feel them just clinging to me. Ugh!”
Samantha was not her usual exuberant self. Jenniferhad counted on her being so. She had expected to find her cousin eager to talk about last night, to discuss her partners, to reveal her favorite. But she seemed unwilling to talk about last night. Jennifer felt her own spirits dip even lower.
“Sam,” she said, “I thought you would cheer me up. You know that I was in disgrace last night, I suppose?”
“Yes.” Samantha bit her lip. “I think he likes you, Jenny. He has never tried to dance with me. Yet he has danced with you twice. I think he really is the devil. He must know that you are betrothed. Lionel was upset.”
“Lionel?” Jennifer frowned.
Samantha flushed. “Lord Kersey,” she said. “You upset him, Jenny. You ought not to have gone off with Lord Thornhill like that.”
“You are scolding now too?” Jennifer asked quietly.
“Well, it was not right, you must admit,” Samantha said. “You have a man, Jenny, and you have claimed forever that you love him. It was not right to step outside with the earl. Who is to know what you were up to, the two of you, out there?”
They were halfway down the stairs. But Samantha had stopped in order to stare accusingly at her cousin. And then, under Jennifer’s dismayed gaze, she bit her upper lip, her eyes filled with tears, and she turned without another word to hurry upstairs again.
“Sam?” Jennifer called after her. But she was left alone in
She went home and to bed some time early in the morning, weary to the point of exhaustion, only to find that she could not sleep. She tried wrapping herself about with the warmth of the knowledge that in just a little over a week’s time there was to be the dinner at the Earl of Rushford’s and her betrothal was to be announced. After that all would be well. She would spend more time with Lionel and get to know him better. He would kiss her. There would be all the excitement of their approaching wedding. She pictured him as he had appeared this evening, handsome enough to bring an ache to her throat. He was hers—the man she loved, the man she was to marry.
And yet her mind kept straying to dark, compelling eyes and long, artistic fingers. She kept feeling his mouth on hers and reliving her surprise at the discovery that his lips had been slightly parted so that she had felt the soft moistness of the inside of his mouth. She kept remembering the physical sensations that had accompanied the kiss—the strange tightening in her breasts, the aching throb between her legs.
She kept remembering that she had talked to him and listened to him. She had revealed far more of herself than she had ever done with Lionel, and had learned more of him than she knew of her own betrothed. He had convinced her that whatever had been in his past he had now reformed his ways and was prepared to live a responsible life. And then he had kissed her.
She felt sinful and spoiled. And unwillingly fascinated by the memories.
The morning brought with it no relief. Tired and dispirited, she wandered into Samantha’s room only to find her cousin sitting quietly at the window, heavy-eyed.
“Have you been crying?” she asked, alarmed. Samantha never cried.
“No,” Samantha said, smiling quickly. “I am just tired after last night. We were warned that the Season would be exhausting, Jenny, and it sounded marvelous, did it not? It has hardly started yet, and already it is simply—exhausting.”
Jennifer sat down beside her. “Did you not enjoy last night’s ball?” she asked. “You had a partner for each set. You danced twice with a few of them.” Lionel, for example.
“I enjoyed it.” Samantha got to her feet. “Let’s go down to breakfast, shall we? And perhaps for a walk in the park afterward to blow away the cobwebs? I can feel them just clinging to me. Ugh!”
Samantha was not her usual exuberant self. Jenniferhad counted on her being so. She had expected to find her cousin eager to talk about last night, to discuss her partners, to reveal her favorite. But she seemed unwilling to talk about last night. Jennifer felt her own spirits dip even lower.
“Sam,” she said, “I thought you would cheer me up. You know that I was in disgrace last night, I suppose?”
“Yes.” Samantha bit her lip. “I think he likes you, Jenny. He has never tried to dance with me. Yet he has danced with you twice. I think he really is the devil. He must know that you are betrothed. Lionel was upset.”
“Lionel?” Jennifer frowned.
Samantha flushed. “Lord Kersey,” she said. “You upset him, Jenny. You ought not to have gone off with Lord Thornhill like that.”
“You are scolding now too?” Jennifer asked quietly.
“Well, it was not right, you must admit,” Samantha said. “You have a man, Jenny, and you have claimed forever that you love him. It was not right to step outside with the earl. Who is to know what you were up to, the two of you, out there?”
They were halfway down the stairs. But Samantha had stopped in order to stare accusingly at her cousin. And then, under Jennifer’s dismayed gaze, she bit her upper lip, her eyes filled with tears, and she turned without another word to hurry upstairs again.
“Sam?” Jennifer called after her. But she was left alone in
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