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Benedict flinched at her vehemence. “Rosaline…”
“No, no, you stay right there. No more deserted sunrooms for me.” She straightened up, raising her chin. “I shall re-join the party. You’d better make an appearance soon, and act as though we haven’t done anything wrong.”
“We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Oh, don’t be childish, please.” Rosaline bit her lip, as if not quite believing that she’d just called the Duke of Keswickchildish. He couldn’t believe it either.
She didn’t take it back, though.
“Are we agreed?” Rosaline spoke again eventually.
“Of course. After you, of course. The lady always leads the way.” Benedict made a deep, elegant bow. One of his best, he thought. Rosaline blushed – at least, as far as he could tell in the dark room – and turned abruptly to the door. She was muttering something under her breath that was probably very vulgar and not at all flattering to Benedict.
He remained standing where he was until she was gone, then he sank down into one of the horribly uncomfortable sofas.
What had hedone? What had he been thinking? When, in his wild and ridiculous train of thought, had Benedict thought it a good idea to kiss his false lover?
You are using this woman to give yourself peace from Society Belles and their mammas,Benedict reminded herself.You have promised to help her find a true relationship where ours is false. You’repayingher, for heaven’s sake!
Benedict absently raked his hands through his hair, swore when he realized what he’d done, and attempted to flatten it down again. The worst of it was the sharp, sour sensation of jealousy that he still felt, and the familiar excitement of arousal.
It wasn’t going away.
In the past, he’d quite naturally calmed down once the lady in question was out of his arms, but this time, his usual deep breaths and cold, calm thinking were not doing any good. He adjusted his hips, hoping that Rosaline had not noticed the definite bulge in his breeches. It was dark in here, after all.
He still wanted Rosaline, damn him. The taste of her lips still lingered, and he longed to taste her again, to pull her close and feel her warm body against his.
This vivid imaginings were doing nothing to help Benedict’s composure. Reminding himself that his absence would be noted and commented on soon enough, he leapt to his feet and began to pace the room.
Think, you stupid fool. What would have happened if the Viscountess had burst in on us just now?Benedict scolded himself.
Benedict paused in his pacing, closing his eyes. The truth was more visceral and miserable than he could have imagined. Ladies with ruined reputations lost everything. Their friends, often their family, their status, their prospects. If they had money of their own – which ladies seldom did – they could live a comfortable yet isolated life, and simply pray to be left alone.
That would not happen to Rosaline. In an effort to distance themselves from her shame, her parents would likely throw her out. They might send her to an asylum, or a nunnery, or some other awful place where she could rot away and be forgotten.
Either that or she would end up homeless, wandering the streets and coming to a fate worse than that of any street rat which rummaged through the rubbish and fled from the dogs.
Society did not forgive even the smallest of misdemeanors. Being found with a man in a darkened room alone – let alone kissing said man – was the end of a woman’s life.
It was not fair, it was cruel, and gentlemen were not held to the same standards, but there it was.
Benedict sighed, straightening his waistcoat. He could almost feel where Rosaline had put her hand, palm burning through the fabric.
You’re the man,he told himself.You are in charge of making sure things don’t go too far. The girl is doing you a favor, and she’s decently good company too, in fact. Don’t repay her by ruining what slim chances she has.
For the final blow, Benedict reminded himself of Rosaline’s true motivations.
Money.
She hadn’t taken his proposal seriously until he’d offer to pay her. She was trying to make money to support herself and her family, and Benedict had to admire her ingenuity and determination. Theirs wasn’t a world that rewarded or even tolerated clever, ambitious women. Benedict had often prided himself on being different to those small, minded people.
Now he had to prove it.
That meant no more kissing, no more impropriety. This was just business, that was all.
Taking a deep breath, Benedict pushed open the door, slipping out into the hallway. He was as ready as he would ever be to rejoin that wretched party.
CHAPTER15
