He realized now what a blockhead he had been. He had never kissed a virgin. Had never done more than dance with one, beneath the glittering chandeliers of a society ball and the watchful eyes of mamas and chaperones. How the bloody hell would he know how they kissed? What they allowed?
Why had he taken her without the binds of matrimony?
And why did it have to beher, the Winter most embroiled in scandal?
He knew why. Because there was something about her that called to him in a way no other woman before her had. He had seen her, and he had wanted her. That night at the ball, he had thought she had looked like an invitation to sin, and he had been right. But it was more than that, if he were honest.
More than her generous breasts, her luscious curves, her sweet lips, her beauty.
It was Eugie.
And she had left a part of her behind in his bed. His hand settled in her dressing gown now, grasping the soft fabric as if seeking her warmth, as if chasing the feel of her. He raised it to his nose before he could stop himself and inhaled deeply. There it was, the scent of fragrant summer blossoms. Her skin had smelled of it everywhere.
Ah, her silken, creamy skin. Her legs.
Still holding her dressing gown, he threw back the bedclothes with his free hand and rose. He had not been the same ever since he had cast his eye upon a goddess in a red gown. And he could not pluck her from his mind now. She was nothing he should want, and all he desired.
He was going to make her his countess.
There was no question of it, in spite of her denial last night. In spite of her reputation, which he now had firsthand knowledge was a blatant falsehood. He had made a fine muck of things. But he would seek out Eugie at the first possible opportunity. He had to make this right.
Without further harm to the lady in question.
Which meant he had a dressing gown to hide and some bed linens to dispose of.
And then, he had a lot of thinking to do.
A knock soundedat Eugie’s chamber door, and for a fleeting foolish moment she thought it was him.
The Earl of Hertford.
Cam.
The man she had lain with last night. Who she had given her maidenhead.
Her fists clenched on the counterpane, and she pulled it protectively to her chin. She did not want to see him. Did not want to look at him. Because if she did, her defenses would crumble. If she did, she would recall every blazing moment of what had happened between them last night.
That was a lie.
She was already thinking of it. Had not stopped, all through the hours she had lain awake in the darkness, nor all the hours since she had risen after finally falling into a fitful slumber. How could she forget?
Everything had changed for her in a glorious, life-altering way, and yet she was terrified. Because the earl wanted to marry her. And she suspected she knew why…
The door opened and her sister-in-law, the elegant Lady Emilia, appeared. Her lovely face was pinched with concern as she closed the door at her back and crossed the chamber.
“Eugie,” she said softly as she settled on the side of the bed. “What is the matter?”
Eugie had asked for her breakfast to be delivered to her chamber this morning, not ready yet to face the gathering. To face her sisters, Lady Emilia, her brother.
To face the earl.
“I have my courses,” she lied. “I am feeling rather ill. Forgive me for not attending breakfast. I know you have gone to great lengths to organize this house party for the sake of me and my sisters.”
And I have ruined it and myself.
Emilia’s gaze slipped to Eugie’s throat. “Are you certain that is the real reason you avoided the breakfast table?”
A gnawing sense of worry overtook her. “Yes, of course it is.”
