Page 41 of Unmasked By a Captivating Lady
She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand anything anymore.
He had tried to tell her that what he had done to her was natural, that all men and women did it together when joined in passion, but then he was a liar, wasn’t he? How could she trust a single thing that came out of his mouth? She had only just discovered tonight what his real name was.
Miles,she thought, distracted for a moment.His name is Miles.
The younger brother of a duke. A man that the Duke of Lancaster had claimed would never intentionally hurt her. A man who claimed that he was in love with her.
“Ara!” His voice was desperate, pleading. “Please stop!”
Fiercely, she ignored him, quickening her stride. Her mind was a whirlpool of confusion, and the one thing she knew was that she had to find her parents and somehow persuade them that they all had to leave this ball immediately.
“Ara!” he called again, just as she entered the French doors, back into the house. “For the love of God, will you stop being so pig headed!”
She stopped abruptly, rounding on him. “Me?Pig headed? You are lucky that I do not cuff you, sir!”
She kept walking, almost running, through the hallway. She could hear him just behind her, his footsteps strident, trying to catch up with her.
“Youarepig headed,” he declared. “You are not being reasonable! I have already apologised to you! What more do you want from me? Blood?”
Desperately, she tried to block him out, almost running in her attempt to get away from him. Suddenly she was stopped by arms reefing her around, causing her to stumble.
Dizzily, she glared at him. “I do not want anything from you, sir! I demand that you do not waylay me any further…”
His dark eyes were glittering fiercely, and his breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. “I will not make any such promise until you listen to me, you stubborn woman…”
Outraged, she slapped him, hard, across the face. She heard the sting of it and saw his stunned face. She exhaled slowly, feeling strangely satisfied. Her hand hurt a little, but in that moment, she had never felt so gratified in her life.
Suddenly, she turned around, bewildered. She had completely forgotten where she was, and in her haste to escape him, they were standing on the edge of the ballroom.
People were staring at them, appalled. Ara saw the shocked look on their faces and heard the gasps of horror. The music played on, but the dancers had abandoned their quadrille, gazing at them both.
Blushing furiously, she gazed back at them, utterly ashamed. How had she lost sight of where she was? How had she become so consumed by her anger that she had made a public scene, at the Duke of Lancaster’s ball, no less?
Her heart sank further as she saw her mother pushing her way through the crowd towards her. Mama’s face was almost puce with anger, and her eyes seemed to be shooting off sparks.
“Come with me,” she hissed to her daughter, grabbing Ara’s arm firmly. “Now.”
Ara let herself be led through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea before them. She could feel their eyes coldly assessing her and finding her wanting. Some were whispering behind their hands, shaking their heads.
She didn’t look back, to see if the man was still standing there. She fixed her eyes to the front, trying not to look at anyone.
Her mother led her down the stairs, and out the front door, to their waiting carriage. Once there, she almost pushed Ara into it, closing the door with a bang.
“Wait here,” she instructed, in a sharp voice. “I am going to find your father, to tell him of the situation.” She took a deep breath. “You are not to move out of this carriage, do you hear? Not for any reason! I do not care if it catches fire, Ara, you are not to move a muscle!”
“Yes, Mama,” she said weakly.
Her mother’s nostrils flared a little. “The shame! What on earth were you thinking? I declare that I do not understand you at all!” She flounced off, back into the house.
Ara sank back into the carriage seat, so overwhelmed that for a full moment she couldn’t think at all. Her head felt like it was fogged, as if mere thought could not hope to push its way through.
Her face burnt again, thinking of the scene. How had she lost all awareness of where she was like that? She had known that she was entering the house; she had sought it as a way to escape from him. She had not expected him to follow her at all, never mind pursue her all the way into it and to the edge of the ballroom.
She sat back in the seat, sighing heavily. He had lost all awareness of where he was, too. She couldn’t imagine that he wanted to create a public scene like that at his brother’s ball. He had just been so caught up in their argument that he had forgotten, just like she had.
Her face twisted, as she stared out the carriage window, at the grand people coming and going. Some of them gazed quickly into the carriage then turned their faces away, whispering to each other.
She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the story would be all over London by morning. How on earth was she ever going to show her face in polite society again?
