Page 42 of Reckless Desire

“Then you know your father?”

“Aye, but—”

“Did you know that he and your mother were secretly married before he died?”

“You are making that up,” she cried.

He laughed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you and my aunt are determined to see me married.”

“I don’t give a damn,” Lord Newhall said. “I have compromised you. You must marry me.”

“Are you daft? A rogue doesn’t compromise a woman then demand that she marry him. I am not nobility. I can easily find a man back home who will marry me. That is the end of the matter.”

“You damn well will not,” he gritted out.

Fury swept through her. “Is this what a wife can expect from you? Well, no thank you. I would rather be a spinster.” She whirled.

He seized her arm and swung her back around. Kenna grabbed the volume sitting on the table and swung against his shoulder. He stumbled back two paces and she kicked him in the shin. He blinked at her in surprise.

“Let that be a lesson,” she snapped, and hurried toward the door.

“That went quite well, Newhall,” Sir Stirling said. “Nae, let her go. It is better if you live to fight another day.”

***

The modest ballroom paled in comparison to those Kenna had seen in Inverness, but was packed so tight with guests, it felt as if she were back in Inverness instead of home on Skye. Kenna tore her gaze from the dance floor and nodded at Mrs. Christine Stanton. She hadn’t heard what the young woman said. But, no doubt, Mrs. Stanton and the other four young ladies standing in their circle were nattering on about the same thing Kenna had heard all evening: the supposed string of lovers she’d left behind in Inverness. Oh, they didn’t say that directly—well, most hadn’t. Mrs. Stanton was eighteen years old, newly married to a wealthy merchant, and thrived on gossip. The girl hadn’t yet learned the art of tact.

When Lady Chastity had prevailed upon Sir Stirling to allow Kenna to return to Skye for a visit, she had considered the reprieve a godsend. Now, three days later, she wasn’t so sure. She suspected Lady Chastity had colluded with her Aunt Lydia. The two women sat in the far corner of the modest ballroom chatting like old friends. No doubt, plotting a new strategy for locating potential husbands.

How did Society deal with these scandals without going mad? If she heard one more woman—young or old—ask in hushed tones what it was like to have three virile men make love to her, she would scream. After the fifth woman had winked when Kenna denied the accusation, she’d given up saying anything. The more she denied the gossip, the more the women giggled. One woman had whispered, “No need to worry, my dear, I was quite the hellion in my day, too.” Kenna half wished Lord Newhall had divested her of her virginity. If she was going to be thought loose, she ought to have benefitted from the accusation.

She stopped breathing. Why did she wish that Lord Newhall had bedded her? Lord Wilshire was just as handsome. Well, almost. He was certainly handsome enough. What was she thinking? She was no better than any other woman at this party. Kenna abruptly realized that the women had gone quiet. They stared at something behind her. Kenna twisted and looked over her shoulder. Then whirled.

Kenna blinked. Was that really—

It couldn’t be.

“Lord Wilshire?” she whispered.

“The Lord Wilshire?” Mrs. Stanton said. “The man who fought a duel in your honor?”

“He did not fight a duel in my honor,” Kenna blurted.

“Oh my,” one of the other girls said.

Giggles followed.

They stepped up beside her.

“He pursued you here,” Mrs. Stanton said. “It is so romantic.”

Kenna fisted her hands at her sides. “He did not pursue me here.”

The ladies exchanged knowing glances.

“Then what is he doing here?” Lady Brenda asked.