Silas would have preferred to let her go without regret, but it was impossible. He hadn’t had his fill yet. Nothing like it. Shamelessly, he slipped his hand along Hannah’s back and tugged her close for one last kiss. Each time he did this, it felt like a promise. That Hannah was his, that he could make her feel something no one else could, that he’d proven himself worthy of a greater role than the one she’d assigned him. But as soon as he released her again, the feeling was gone, leaving him frustrated and uncertain.
Do you still want me to ruin our engagement?
Silas wanted to ask the question, but something held him back. Perhaps he sensed what her answer would be.
He knew he could make Hannah want his touch, but that wasn’t the same thing as wanting a marriage. What would he do with a wife, anyway? He doubted very much that she would be thrilled to learn he intended to spend his life as a brewer, supplying beer to local public houses with Marian and James.
He would be taking Hannah away from all of this. She mightwant to escape her mother’s plans to marry her off to the first man who offered, but she’d never expressed a desire to escape her place near the top of the social ladder.
She would have to be a fool to want that.
“I’ll see you inside,” Silas finished awkwardly, releasing her.
It was for Hannah to tell him if she’d changed her mind about breaking off their engagement. She was the one who’d hired him for exactly that purpose, after all. And she’d never been afraid to tell him what to do.
What they’d just shared was the result of pent-up desire and too much drink. It wasn’t a promise of anything more. Silas couldn’t let himself forget that.
* * *
Hannah wandered back through the crowded ballroom as if in a dream. A servant offered her a glass of punch, but she didn’t think she could risk another while her head was swimming this badly. Who knew what might happen?
I can’t believe he really did that.Hannah’s whole body was humming, a restless vibration that settled over her skin.I can’t believe I didn’t stop him.She’d melted under Corbyn’s touch. He could have undressed her right there on the balcony and Hannah would have happily agreed.
What’s wrong with me?
How did Corbyn make her forget herself so completely? When Hannah had picked him as the means to escape her mother’s plans, she’d been the one in control. She’d set the terms of their encounters and he’d grudgingly obeyed, predictable in his lackluster agreement.
There was nothing predictable about this. Nothing lacklustereither.
Hannah shivered, drawing Jane’s lace shawl tightly around her shoulders. It was warm inside the ballroom, but the heat of the crowd didn’t seem to reach her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d crossed a breach tonight.
That had been far more than just a kiss. Not only in the intensity of the heat between them, but also in the consequences for their agreement.
She still needed Mr. Corbyn. Their engagement was the only thing bringing her father to town. Without it, Hannah had no hope of getting her parents in the same room to work out their differences.
Could she still rely on Mr. Corbyn? What if things soured between them, and he changed his mind about helping her?
What if thingsdidn’tsour between them, and she found herself in Corbyn’s bed? Hannah’s heart beat a little faster at the prospect.
She wasn’t supposed to want that. Her mother had always said that only very wicked girls let a man steal their virtue; a proper lady would never let herself be used that way.
Hannah had always believed herself strong enough to resist seduction. On some level, she’d thought herself immune to it. But then, no one had ever wanted her before. Not the way Mr. Corbyn did. She should have been outraged at the way he’d touched her—at the way he’d invited her to touchhim—but instead, she felt such a thrill, more intoxicating than any drink. The only thing that stopped Hannah from turning on her heels and racing back to Corbyn right now was the knowledge that there was no real privacy to shelter them.
Was there something wrong with her, or was Mama wrong about the way things were supposed to feel?
Hannah realized with a sinking feeling that the signs had been there for ages. From the very first moment she’d laid eyes on Mr.Corbyn, hadn’t she been thinking of him in an indecent way? It had been getting worse in recent weeks, until the lightest touch was enough to obliterate her resolve. If therewassomething wrong with her, it wasn’t going away.
Maybe she would have another glass of punch after all.
Hannah had just found the servant and was downing her drink with a grim sense of purpose when she spotted Annabelle Danby chatting with a pretty, dark-haired lady by the edges of the dance floor. When her friend noticed her, she bid farewell to the brunette and came over.
“Good evening,” Hannah greeted her. “I’m so glad to see you here.”
Annabelle was an adventurous girl. Maybe she had some experience in these matters, if Hannah could figure out how to ask her without causing any offense.
“I saw you dancing earlier, but you rushed off before I could ever say hello. I thought you didn’t like dancing.”
“I don’t. Mama insisted.” That wasn’t strictly true, but Hannah didn’t know how to tell her friend how hard Mr. Corbyn had worked to be able to join her on the floor for that one set. Nor could she explain the thrill she’d felt to see him so earnest and pleased with himself, his usual reticence abandoned. It hadn’t been a chore to dance with him at all. It had been an unexpected delight.
