her. He sat at a table near the four women, a handful of cards in his fist and a drink at his elbow.
He wore a grim expression on the angles of his strong, square face. A furrow rested
between the slashes of his dark brows.
And he had heard every slur, had seen her utterly humiliated! Oh, how he must be gloating.
Kira hated him for that as she fought the sudden urge to cry.
James turned to face her and tried to urge her away. Kira refused to move.
“Come with me, Miss Melbourne.” James pulled on her arm. “We’ll find some others with
whom to share our society.”
“No,” she whispered, a jumble of anger and hurt and shame.
“And that mouth.” The thin-faced woman at the table groaned as if disgusted. “It’s
as if she’s plying her trade every time she smiles.”
“Or even breathes, for goodness sake!” cried another.
“Their opinions mean nothing. They do not know you. Turn the other cheek.” James’s
urgent tone matched his expression.
As the women laughed, Kira looked up to find Cropthorne’s stare still upon her. She
found nothing in his expression—no pity, no surprise—nothing but acceptance.
Kira could not swallow such a slur. She simply refused to allow such small-minded women to insult her without comment.
Doing her best to muster a blank expression, she broke away from James and approached
the vicious foursome’s table.
“Good evening, ladies.”
The gossips all looked up wearing identically stunned expressions. Only one had the
good grace to look contrite. Around them, the room seemed to stop. She had everyone’s
attention. Heart pounding, Kira took a deep breath.
“You seem misinformed about me, so I hope you will indulge me for a moment. After
all, it’s a pity intelligent, well-bred women like you would believe every lie a philandering
rake would tell his unsuspecting peers.”
The redhead sputtered, “See here— ”
“And come now, a harem?” Kira laughed. “It’s rather farfetched. I assure you there
is no palace that might hold such a harem in the Zagros Mountains. My mother’s people
spent far more time looking for water and surviving the elements in order to live
another day. At no time was I taught to be wanton. In fact, Islamic law discourages
women from even displaying their hair in public, much less any amount of bosom.” She
looked pointedly at the brunette’s dangerously low décolletage.
James was at her side then, his hand at her elbow, urging her away. Nearby, Cropthorne
had abandoned his cards and stood, looking ready to spring to action. His dark eyes
held a sharp warning, but she was beyond caution. Since he shared their opinion, he
could go hang himself.
“And as for my mouth, do you imagine a feature given me at birth would really determine
my proclivity for lewdness? Such learned ladies like yourselves should know better.”
The redhead stood and drew herself up to her full height, a good six inches shorter
than Kira’s own five feet, eight inches. The woman’s pinch-mouthed expression spewed
hate.
“Lord Vance is a wealthy, respectable peer. It’s shameful that a woman of such questionable
birth would use her dubious virtue to attempt to snare a husband so far above her.
To everyone who matters, you are ill-bred and ill-mannered. No one, least of all Mrs.
Baycliffe, wants you here.”
Kira had known that when she walked in the door. Still, it hurt to hear the truth
put so bluntly—and publicly. She swallowed as a new wave of humiliation lanced through
her.
Still, she lifted her chin proudly. “Then we find ourselves at a happy compromise,
for I have no desire to be among the society of small-minded simpletons.”
With the redhead’s gasp ringing in her ears, Kira whirled away and left the room.
Behind her, she heard stunned silence, followed by an agitated buzz of chatter. She
felt dozens of stares.
Stumbling through the small ballroom, Kira found a white-draped
He wore a grim expression on the angles of his strong, square face. A furrow rested
between the slashes of his dark brows.
And he had heard every slur, had seen her utterly humiliated! Oh, how he must be gloating.
Kira hated him for that as she fought the sudden urge to cry.
James turned to face her and tried to urge her away. Kira refused to move.
“Come with me, Miss Melbourne.” James pulled on her arm. “We’ll find some others with
whom to share our society.”
“No,” she whispered, a jumble of anger and hurt and shame.
“And that mouth.” The thin-faced woman at the table groaned as if disgusted. “It’s
as if she’s plying her trade every time she smiles.”
“Or even breathes, for goodness sake!” cried another.
“Their opinions mean nothing. They do not know you. Turn the other cheek.” James’s
urgent tone matched his expression.
As the women laughed, Kira looked up to find Cropthorne’s stare still upon her. She
found nothing in his expression—no pity, no surprise—nothing but acceptance.
Kira could not swallow such a slur. She simply refused to allow such small-minded women to insult her without comment.
Doing her best to muster a blank expression, she broke away from James and approached
the vicious foursome’s table.
“Good evening, ladies.”
The gossips all looked up wearing identically stunned expressions. Only one had the
good grace to look contrite. Around them, the room seemed to stop. She had everyone’s
attention. Heart pounding, Kira took a deep breath.
“You seem misinformed about me, so I hope you will indulge me for a moment. After
all, it’s a pity intelligent, well-bred women like you would believe every lie a philandering
rake would tell his unsuspecting peers.”
The redhead sputtered, “See here— ”
“And come now, a harem?” Kira laughed. “It’s rather farfetched. I assure you there
is no palace that might hold such a harem in the Zagros Mountains. My mother’s people
spent far more time looking for water and surviving the elements in order to live
another day. At no time was I taught to be wanton. In fact, Islamic law discourages
women from even displaying their hair in public, much less any amount of bosom.” She
looked pointedly at the brunette’s dangerously low décolletage.
James was at her side then, his hand at her elbow, urging her away. Nearby, Cropthorne
had abandoned his cards and stood, looking ready to spring to action. His dark eyes
held a sharp warning, but she was beyond caution. Since he shared their opinion, he
could go hang himself.
“And as for my mouth, do you imagine a feature given me at birth would really determine
my proclivity for lewdness? Such learned ladies like yourselves should know better.”
The redhead stood and drew herself up to her full height, a good six inches shorter
than Kira’s own five feet, eight inches. The woman’s pinch-mouthed expression spewed
hate.
“Lord Vance is a wealthy, respectable peer. It’s shameful that a woman of such questionable
birth would use her dubious virtue to attempt to snare a husband so far above her.
To everyone who matters, you are ill-bred and ill-mannered. No one, least of all Mrs.
Baycliffe, wants you here.”
Kira had known that when she walked in the door. Still, it hurt to hear the truth
put so bluntly—and publicly. She swallowed as a new wave of humiliation lanced through
her.
Still, she lifted her chin proudly. “Then we find ourselves at a happy compromise,
for I have no desire to be among the society of small-minded simpletons.”
With the redhead’s gasp ringing in her ears, Kira whirled away and left the room.
Behind her, she heard stunned silence, followed by an agitated buzz of chatter. She
felt dozens of stares.
Stumbling through the small ballroom, Kira found a white-draped
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