Chapter 3
Never blame the wine.
—From the Diary of Lillian Wright
Pippa had lost her mind.
Yes, that was it. How else to explain her behavior?
She had thought she’d have the last laugh; after all, she considered herself an expert when it came to teasing the Earl of Chatteris.
However, something had gone devastatingly wrong.
She ought to feel over the moon. Pleased as punch.
Triumphant, even. After all, she’d known Chatteris for ten years, and never had she been able to shock him as she had done tonight.
However, she had startled herself into a befuddlement! In fact, she felt a bit perplexed. A touch beside herself.
That kiss …
No, no, no. The kiss most certainly was not the reason she felt a touch beside herself. It should be the punch. Her hand must have slipped when she poured the brandy.
She let out a short breath and touched her lips.
They still tingled …
Lord Almighty!
She had stolen a kiss from Nicholas Byrne.
Never mind that. A first kiss was a first kiss.
She had never meant to make much fanfare of it.
She hadn’t just stolen a kiss—she’d raised to the tips of her toes, grabbed the man by his lapels, for saint’s sake, and pressed her lips against his. And he had kissed her back.
Where had the solemn and serious earl disappeared to? Oh dear, and what about Nancy? What would her friend say when she learned Pippa had kissed her brother! While she wished to seize every memorable moment of her life, kissing Chatteris bordered on dangerous.
Pippa’s attention caught on two striking figures as she reentered the ballroom. Her sight landed on the tall man with prominent, foreign features before shifting to the beautiful woman beside him. They were bickering, but they still looked like they belonged together. A perfect match.
A pinch of envy squeezed her heart.
“Oh! There you are,” Nancy exclaimed from a few feet away, Lord Dare at her side. “We’ve been looking for you.”
Oh, right. She’d forgotten she’d promised Lord Dare a dance! He was her actual target for tonight, and she’d sought him out in the garden for that purpose. But now that she’d kissed Chatteris, she had no desire to steal a kiss from Lord Dare as well. She did, however, need a distraction.
“My lady.” He offered her his arm and his most famous rakish smile. “Shall we?”
Pippa extended her hand to place in Dare’s outstretched palm when a bigger hand intruded upon her field of vision. Her gaze flew up to … Chatteris?
“The lady is dancing with me.”
Dare arched a brow. “Chatteris, good evening. You must be mistaken. Lady Pippa has promised this dance to me.”
“No mistake.”
“My name is clearly written on the dance card.”
Chatteris gave a curt nod. “How remarkable that you would believe that.”
“You’ve clearly lost your bloody head,” Dare said.
Chatteris snorted. “That remains to be seen.” With that, he all but swept Pippa to the dance floor.
“What are you doing?” she hissed before they were forced to part and circle around the other dancers.
“What are you doing?” Chatteris replied when they were once again drawn together. “Drinking. Kissing men. Dancing with rakes?”
“You just pawned your sister off to that rake,” Pippa shot back.
The muscles beneath her palm stiffened, and she let out a small laugh when Chatteris snapped his head to Nancy and Dare, the tension only leaving his body when he spotted Jeremy.
“You did that on purpose,” he ground out.
“You stole my dance.”
“Can a dance be compared to a kiss?”
Probably not. It occurred to Pippa that in all her years of knowing the earl, they’d never once danced. Until tonight.
Was it because of the kiss?
For some reason, the idea unnerved her.
“Seeing as we’ve never danced before, it might not be that far off from a kiss.”
“You meant to kiss Dare tonight.” Before she could answer, he went on. “Don’t bother to deny it. And before you tell me it’s none of my concern, let me remind you that you are a guest under my roof. Everything you do is my business.”
Pippa inhaled deeply, unable to escape the soft scent of pine. Even when she curtsied to another gentleman, allowing her a short reprieve from Chatteris’s gloomy visage, escape proved impossible.
Pippa couldn’t very well tell him about her mother’s diary. They did not have the kind of relationship where they shared such intimate details. However, it seemed that she had awakened the beast within him with her actions tonight.
Seizing a moment with Nicholas Byrne had not been a wise thing. In fact, it might very well prove to be calamitous. It was the sort of moment, if left unguarded, one might regret in the future, and if there was anything in the world Pippa hated more, it was regret.
“So,” he demanded when they reunited. “Are you going to tell me what has gotten into you?”
“I admit, my actions may appear impulsive, but I do have my reasons, which are quite sound.”
“And what reasons might those be?”
“Why are you so riled, Chatteris?” Pippa countered. Because I kissed you or because I didn’t mean to kiss you?
His jaw clenched. “Have you ever considered how I might feel about the kiss you so carelessly stole?”
She met the earl’s deep, unfathomable gaze. Her heart began to pound. He left her no time to collect her thoughts. The moment the dance ended, he strode away.
* * *
The second rule of being an exemplary brother: Do not allow your sister’s best friend under your skin.
Nicholas scowled at the wall separating their bedchambers.
He had never acted so rude in his life. Even after he’d cut their night short and dragged his sister and Pippa home, he could not settle down.
He had an alarming sense that all the principles that held up the pillar of his character were about to collapse.
Dammit.
He pressed against his heart with his palm. The beat had always been steady. Never this erratic. Now it was almost painful. Deuced uncomfortable.
He prided himself on his calm. Rules existed for a reason. They provided order. Control.
This fitful heartbeat … It hadn’t steadied since the kiss. The sooner it settled, the better.
Why the hell did she have to kiss him?
For a mad moment, Nicholas wondered: Since it all started the moment she kissed him, would it end the moment he kissed her? The probability seemed small. But it did exist. It would certainly allow him to take back control.
It made perfect sense.
He did not care to dwell on the fact that he had returned her kiss. A mere slip in judgment …
His eyes narrowed at the blue birds patterning the wall that separated him from that little troublemaker. Four inches of stone barrier. What was she doing on the other side? Was she curled up in her bed sleeping? He could not be the only one in such a wretched state, could he?
Too many doubts and questions circled his mind for him to shut his eyes. The moment he did, he would be transported back to the garden. Her taste …
Unacceptable.
Before his brain caught up with his limbs, Nicholas strode to the bird-covered wall and placed his ear against the cold surface.
One moment.
Two.
Nothing.
Nicholas snapped straight and spat a curse at all the birds that seemed to be staring at him with beady little laughing eyes. What the devil had gotten into him? Eavesdropping like a child. Absolutely ludicrous. And probably spoke volumes of his sanity.
He turned on his heel and marched to the liquor cabinet beside a small crackling fire illuminating the chamber. He needed a drink. Several. He poured brandy into a glass and downed it in one gulp. The swirling liquid burned down his throat.
The taste reminded him of the spicy flavor of punch on Pippa’s lips.
Nicholas almost groaned.
He raised his hand to touch his lips with the tip of his finger. He’d wanted to do that all night but refrained. He could not rid himself of the impact of the kiss; the sensation had engraved too deeply.
That Pippa Averly recklessly seized and savored moments was not news to him. That he had become a moment she had seized … That irked him beyond reason. He, Nicholas Byrne, Earl of Chatteris, was not just another moment to collect.
The mere notion sat wretchedly in his heart.
Seizing moments? The woman courted ruin.
His determination firmed.
Pippa needed to be taught a lesson, and he needed to take back the control she’d so carelessly stolen.
Kissing her served this dual purpose. She would learn that a woman cannot kiss a man carelessly without consequences and they would be even.
She kissed him. He kissed her. That would be the end of it.
A splendid plan.
Nicholas ignored that there might be something off with his line of reasoning. Nothing about this night and its sequence of events was rational. A man needed to be crafty when dealing with a crafty woman.
At the very least, a dark voice inside him argued, he would have a chance to taste her again.
Nicholas poured another brandy.
How many rules had he broken tonight alone? Rules he had set up exactly so that this would never happen. This spiral in his mental state. From the first moment he’d met Pippa, he’d known, deep in his bones, she would etch herself there if he did not put personal stipulations in place.
Rightfully so.
She hadn’t seemed to be all that fond of him and found his character too stiff. Nicholas hadn’t wanted to risk anything that might ruin Nancy’s friendship. After all, desires were fleeting, but the value of family was worth more than its weight in treasure.
Now, with one kiss, Pippa had cast him into a void of confusion.
He swallowed the brandy in one go.
What good did those rules do in the end?
Pippa had already firmly lodged under his skin.