Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Reed felt like an utter fool. Although he had not expected a declaration of love and devotion to come from Miss Kent’s lips, the fact that she had discounted him because of his humble background had not set well with him when, until now, she had not seemed to mind his upbringing.
He had believed her to be above the same shallow beliefs that most of society dared to boast. He thought she was more forward thinking than that, yearning to change the world so that certain discriminatory factors could finally be laid to rest and everyone might enjoy this beautiful country on the same, common ground.
Apparently, he’d been wrong.
Now, more than ever, he wished he had not interceded at that blasted Pond.
While he did not want to see anyone injured or struggling for their life, surely someone else might have stepped in to rescue Miss Kent.
If so, he would not be in the current predicament he’d found himself in at the moment, sitting among members of the aristocracy and feeling, more than ever, his resentment that he did not belong in their revered company.
He snatched a glass of wine from a passing servant and downed nearly the entire thing in one gulp.
He was going to be in need of some sort of sustenance if he was to make it through the rest of this evening without voicing his harsh opinions.
If anything would be detrimental to his business, it would be the gossip that he’d been effectively removed from a polite household for acting out.
It would be easier if he didn’t have to escort Miss Kent about the room and act the doting suitor for so many observant eyes watching from above their fluttering fans.
There would be a certain amount of satisfaction if he were to walk out now and leave her standing there with her mouth open in shock. The temptation was almost too much.
It wasn’t until he grabbed his third glass of Madeira that Sariah whispered urgently in his ear, “I need to speak with you.”
“I cannot imagine why you would debase yourself to speak to someone of such low standing.” He despised the sneer in his voice but at the same time decided it was quite deserved.
Her lovely mouth went slack. “You are foxed!”
He gave a snort. “Hardly. I used to drink more than this when I was still in short pants.”
“Yet, you do not seem to understand that drinking from a society punch bowl is exceedingly more dangerous,” she hissed. She steered him toward the open terrace doors and did not cease her efforts until they were well out of sight from the rest of the assemblage.
Once they were alone, she set her hands on her hips and glared at him with her furious amber eyes. Reed blinked, wondering why he was suddenly dizzy. “Why are you moving in circles?” he demanded.
“It is your head that is doing the spinning, not I.” She gave a heavy sigh and then put a hand to her forehead as if distressed. “I cannot believe this.”
Reed immediately took offense to that remark. He set his finger in her face. “What I cannot believe is that you asked me to send you to the heavens and then in nearly the next breath, you act as though I am beneath you.”
He expected her to argue, to try to recant her earlier harsh statement. Instead, her face fell. “I did not mean it to sound so demeaning.”
He gave a disbelieving laugh. “You sounded rather convincing to me.”
Reed could tell her frustration was starting to grow. “I only said that because it seemed a simpler answer than admitting it could be possible—”
The moment she broke off and looked away, Reed’s anger dissipated.
Something had changed in her expression, something that told him he could identify with those same misgivings.
He moved closer. “Say it, Sariah.” It was the first time he’d ever said her given name aloud in her company.
He’d uttered it multiple times in the privacy of his chamber when he found his release.
However, the intimacy it evoked now immediately sparked to life between them.
Her focus dropped to his mouth. “It does not matter,” she whispered.
“I think it does.” He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face.
She slowly shook her head as they started to drift closer to one another. “Truly, there is nothing further to explain. I made a mistake and I am sorry if I made you feel inferior. It was not my intention. I… suppose I just was not prepared with a suitable reply regarding our arrangement.”
“Did you need one?” His breath fanned the fine hairs on her forehead.
Her brow furrowed slightly. “I thought I did.”
“It is no one’s business what we share. As far as society is aware, we are betrothed. Nothing more, nothing less. But if it is strictly between us…”
“Yes?”
His lips curved upward. “I prefer more.”
More.
Sariah definitely liked the sound of that.
But what she was really anticipating was the moment when Reed’s mouth descended upon hers.
She was about to discover what it might be like to kiss her Adonis after yearning to do so since the instant she’d spied him reclining at the edge of the Peerless Pond.
Her embarrassment, combined with her ridiculous pride, had changed all of that, and she’d been disappointed that she hadn’t had a chance to introduce herself properly.
Then, to her utter shock, he’d appeared on her doorstep the very next day.
Nearly a week later and that same, burning curiosity had been her constant companion.
Every moment they were together, however supervised it had been of late, she had thought of little else but their conversation about the little death.
With each new day, she was finding that her excitement grew steadily stronger when he appeared.
She took extra special care with her appearance and attempted to engage him in whatever conversation she could manage just to hear his smooth, confident voice.
She inhaled the smell of him now, a crisp clean scent that reminded her of danger and something…
darkly forbidden. She lifted her hands and set her flat palms boldly on his chest. She could feel the taut muscles beneath her fingers and the steady beat of his heart.
She thrilled at every deep breath he took.
When, at last, his lips finally met hers, a whiff of wine and brandy mingled between them.
She was surprised that he hadn’t been able to detect the stronger spirits present but perhaps he’d been too upset to care.
She continued to regret her crass words and hoped that he knew she hadn’t truly meant them.
It had been cruel and thoughtless of her to speak them at all, her uncertainty and fear that Maggie might have been right making them spill forth.
She sighed as his mouth moved expertly over hers. She knew that if there was such a thing as a “peak” that he would be the man who could help her achieve it. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing as he pulled her closer to him and deepened the embrace.
Sariah gasped at the close contact, feeling every muscle from his forearms to his thighs, most particularly the hardness between his legs. She was surprised that the feel of his manhood did not intimidate her, but rather made her eager to explore the differences in their bodies further.
When he slid his tongue into her mouth and began to move tantalizingly slow along hers, Sariah wondered if perhaps the brandy she had inhaled was starting to go to her head. She began to sway on her feet, feeling equally dizzy and hot at the same time.
The distant sound of laughter, signaling the arrival of more merrymakers striding onto the terrace quickly had Mr. Carrington pulling away from her.
The action was so abrupt that she was forced to reach out to the railing to keep her balance just as three ladies glanced their way.
They looked at each other and tittered behind their fans but continued down the stone steps toward the brightly lit gardens.
“That was close,” she murmured.
“Indeed. It would have been a shame if we were caught in flagrante delicto.”
Sariah sighed. “Mr. Carrington—”
“If you are trying to apologize again, I will only accept on one condition.”
She tilted her head to the side, silently admiring the way the moonlight turned his light hair almost a silver hue. “Which is?”
“Stop the formal nonsense. My name is Reed, and since we are betrothed it makes sense that we should be allowed to be on more familiar terms.”
“Even though it is for appearance’s sake alone?” she countered.
“It does not matter to me.” He moved toward her again. “I want to hear my name on those tempting lips.”
Sariah wondered if he was going to kiss her again. “Yes,” she breathed, not sure if she was agreeing to his request, or the more he’d mentioned earlier.
“Then you are forgiven.”
Her eyes started to drift closed—just as he spun on his heel and strode inside.
It took Sariah a full minute to recover from the sudden parting and to allow the warm July breeze to lessen the heat on her cheeks.
When she returned to the soiree, she was glad to see that Mr. Carrington seemed to have fully recovered his faculties.
As he spoke to a few gentlemen, it did not appear as though he’d had anything to drink at all.
Was he such a good actor that he was able to fool everyone but her?
Or had she fallen prey to the subterfuge as well?
She wasn’t sure she knew the answer to anything at the moment. She was consumed with that kiss, her lips still tingling in the aftermath.
When a gentleman asked her to partner him for the quadrille, she accepted politely, praying that she could remember the steps appropriately.
When that dance ended, she stood up for two more before she was finally reunited with Reed. As she looked at him, it somehow felt so natural to refer to him in such an informal manner.