Page 45 of The Lady Was Lying
The hallway that abutted the ballroom did not offer the quiet she craved, so she wound her way through the crowd. As unobtrusively as possible, she disappeared into a shadowed hallway that was probably meant to remain deserted. Aware that its proximity to the public rooms would make it ideal for a rendezvous, she kept going until she was so far away, she couldn’t hear anything except the quiet swish of her skirt and the near silent press of her slippers on the carpet.
An empty alcove beckoned, and her eyes slid closed as she sank against the window, relishing the chill that seeped through the delicate material of her gown. The ballroom had been warm, the dancing had made her warmer, and the sudden splash of cold helped to ground her.
“You are so blasted beautiful.”
Her eyes shot open and locked on the man leering at her. “Lord Edwin. I did not invite you to follow me.” She hadn’t even seen him that evening.
He ignored the warning in her tone. “I feared I’d never have the opportunity to get you alone.” He advanced until his toes brushed her skirts. “It is difficult to get close enough to arrange a rendezvous when you glare at every man who looks in your direction.” He huffed. “You aren’t nearly as sociable as you once were.”
“’Tis not an accident. I do not wish to rendezvous.”
“Nonsense.” His lips curled upward. “A chit like you can’t resist.”
His certainty stung, but the fact that she hadn’t resisted in the past didn’t mean she couldn’t resist now. Shifting her weight, she drew herself up to her full height. “I assure you, I can refuse whenever I want.”
“But why would you?” He laughed like he was uproariously funny. “We’ve been circling each other for years, waiting for the right time.”
“This isn’t the right time.” There would never be a right time, because she didn’t want to kiss him.
It was a startling revelation.
Perhaps the control she had exhibited that evening was not only for her sister. Had something inside of her changed?
“Let me taste you.” His lips puckered and his hand darted toward her hip.
She swatted it away as she lifted her other hand and, with unerring accuracy, smacked it across his cheek. The crack of her palm echoed in the quiet. The sting of heat that lingered from the contact emboldened her. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.”
His jaw flexed as he reached up to finger the place where she’d struck him. “You hit me.”
“I’ll do it again if you don’t step away.”
He stumbled several paces backward. “You like kissing.”
“Do I?”
“Y-y-yes,” he stuttered. “Kissing and a bit of fondling. You never raise your skirts like your mother, but you never turn a bloke away either.”
“I’m turning you away.”
His brows drew together, and his shoulders slumped. “What is wrong with me?”
“I’m no longer engaging in stolen kisses.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
Her heart pounded, its rhythm unsteady as she darted around him. It seemed unlikely that Lord Edwin would follow, but she didn’t want to encourage him, so she flew around the corner and ran straight into the hard wall of a well-dressed man. His hands reached out to steady her and it only took a second for her to recognize her brother.
“Sebastian.” She clutched his forearms. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you I was stepping away.”
He searched her face. “What is amiss?”
“Nothing.” The lie fell from her lips. Her brother didn’t need to know about Lord Edwin or her rebuff of him.
“Why were you running?” he asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Because I realized you must be searching for me, and I wanted to return as soon as possible. I gave you my word I’d not sneak away, and then I sneaked away.”
