Fine.Bo sent her a frown of her own. “Well, it certainly isn’t the time to cow before the whims of the Duchess of Cartwright or the arrogant stupidity of the Duke of Bainbridge either. I’ll not be made a sacrifice for the sake of someone’s misguided sense of propriety.”
Never mind that the duchess had not been wrong about what she’d witnessed. Bo still wasn’t about to marry Bainbridge. She had agreed earlier as he stood there, stricken by thoughts of his dead wife, because she felt compassion for him. But compassion was not enough to warrant the loss of her freedom forever to a man she didn’t like.
To a man like Bainbridge.
Even if he kissed better than any other man who had ever set his mouth to hers.
“I’m afraid these aren’t whims, Bo,” her brother-in-law said next, interrupting the inappropriate bent of her thoughts at the right time. “You will be ruined. And as your sister’s husband, I cannot countenance such a thing happening while you’re beneath my protection.”
When she’d paced in her bedchamber earlier, parceling out what she would say and how she would avoid having to marry the insufferable duke, she hadn’t thought about how her actions could affect those around her.
How dreadfully selfish of her. Cleo and Alex’s love was old and true, but they had been torn apart in their youth and reunited while Cleo had been married to her scurrilous husband. Only upon the blackguard’s death had Cleo and Alex been free to marry, and they’d weathered a great deal of scandal to maintain good standing in thetonand Parliament both. Alex was a vaunted politician, and if he were deemed responsible for her lapse in judgment, she would never forgive herself.
She sighed, and the knot in her stomach that had begun as small as a thimble tangled and grew within her. The chamber seemed suddenly robbed of air. Her cheeks went hot. Her corset was laced too tight. Even her silk stockings itched. She wanted to be free of every encumbrance, free of this room, free of propriety and duty and the repercussions of her own foolishness.
“But you aren’t responsible,” she told Alex needlessly. “I am my own woman, capable of making my own decisions, regardless of however stupid they may prove.”
His expression remained impassive as Cleo chimed back in. “Whilst we’re speaking of decisions, perhaps you’d care to explain how you found yourself in the duke’s private library when you pleaded a headache and asked to return to your chamber for a rest.”
Bo’s brows snapped together and she gave her sister a did-you-truly-just-dare look. Cleo had once been notorious for pleading megrims at fashionable gatherings. Now that she was the Marchioness of Thornton, with Alex’s political connections and responsibilities, she could no longer employ her clever subterfuge. But that didn’t mean Bo couldn’t. “Where do you think I learned such a strategy, dear sister?”
Cleo flushed. “You lied to me, you little scamp?”
She grinned, the heaviness of the situation dispelled for a moment. “I prefer to think of it as offering a creative suggestion.”
“God save me from Harrington women,” Alex gritted. “Boadicea, may I remind you that you swore to me that you’d behave for the duration of the week? And yet here we are, not a full day into our stay at Boswell Manor, and the Duke of Bainbridge has been witnessed compromising you in his bloody library?”
She winced, her levity fading in the face of her brother-in-law’s thunderous scowl. “I had every intention of behaving. My sole goal was to convince Lord Harry to aid me with the Lady’s Suffrage Society.”
“By allowing his brother to compromise you?” Cleo asked slyly.
She supposed she deserved that.
Alex scrubbed a palm over his face. “Hell.”
Cleo leaned forward, lips compressed in disapproval. “What happened, Bo? If we are to extricate you from this mess, you must be honest with us. No more prevaricating or evasion.”
Another sigh escaped her. She didn’t like being told what she must do, and she never had. Nor did she particularly care for rules. She was a perverse creature, she knew, but if she was told a lady ought not to do something, she wanted to do it. If someone said to walk, she decided to run. If she was told to stay, she strayed. Her mother had wanted a wardrobe for her made of ruffles and pastel, and she’d chosen the boldest colors she could find instead. It was her nature.
But this was different. Rules were made to be ignored unless doing so would hurt someone she loved. And she loved her sister and Alex.
“I intended to read,” she said at last into their expectant silence. “I wandered a bit—Boswell Manor is so frightfully large that I’d wager one could get lost in it for three solid days. And at last, I came upon a library with no one about. It seemed the perfect place to spend a few hours alone, until the duke interrupted my solitude.”
“You overturned your ankle while reading a book in Bainbridge’s library?” Alex’s eyes narrowed.
Her cheeks went hot. “I didn’t overturn my ankle.” She paused, wondering how to phrase what had happened after the duke’s unannounced arrival. “He took exception to my choice of literature, and stole my book from me. When he refused to return it, I…I kissed him.”
Cleo and Alex stared at her, apparently united in their loss for words, before sharing a telling look. They were the sort of husband and wife who required no words to communicate. Bo found it both adorable and nauseating.
When they glanced back to her, she was sure she was red as a beet from the tips of her ears to her toes. “He still has my book, the arrogant oaf,” she said, for she wasn’t about to elaborate on what had occurred in the wake of her ill-advised kiss.
No, there was honesty and then there was futility. She was sure Cleo and Alex—whom she had once witnessed emerging from a carriage all flushed and misbuttoned—could surmise as much without her confession.
“You kissed him,” Cleo echoed at last, her voice weak as she shared yet another troubled glance with her husband. “Oh dear. This is worse than I feared.”
“Did Bainbridge take liberties?” Alex demanded, sounding like a protective older brother.
Yes, of course he had. But she had encouraged them. Had allowed them. Heavens above, she’d started the entire string of unfortunate events by kissing him. And liking it.
