Daniel nodded and turned, setting his gaze on Bridget who was all but jumping with excitement. He made his way toward them, still somewhat unsteady but with a determination upon his face. He walked step-by-step, closer and closer toward Bridget, her grip tightening around Penelope’s hand.
Then, he was before them, before Bridget. This was it. He would kiss her and claim her as the woman by his side before all of the townspeople, sealing their future and ending any inkling of hope she had kept inside her heart.
She sighed with resignation and closed her eyes, not wanting to witness the moment which was to take place beside her. But then—to her shock and horror—she felt his breath on her face and a moment later, his hands were on either side of her head, cupping her face. She opened her eyes and found herself staring into his beautiful blue eyes. The chatter around her drifted to her ears but it was nothing but noise that soon faded at the sight of him.
“Daniel.” She whispered his name, a part of her aware that this was not meant to happen and that it would change everything. And yet, there was nothing she could do but give herself to the moment.
Before she could contemplate what to do, he leaned forward, closing his eyes and then his lips were on hers. She closed her eyes, shutting out the world around them and sinking into the feeling, into the joy. Suddenly, nothing at all mattered but this moment, this kiss. The one she’d been waiting for all of her life.
Chapter 21
Daniel felt a surge of emotion rush through his body. Every part of him seemed to buzz as his lips rested on hers. A voice at the back of his head told him to stop, that this was not what the winning kiss was supposed to look like. It was meant to be an innocent kiss, a peck on the lips. Not this prolonged connection between two people, in the middle of the market square, and in front of dozens of spectators.
And yet, he could not let her go. His arms were wrapped around her slender, yet curvaceous body and he pulled her close. There was no reluctance on her part, no resistance. Not even for a moment. In fact, her arms were slung around his waist as he kissed her. She had responded in kind.
Her lips are as sweet as fresh blueberries and she smells like a rose bush at dawn. I wish I could linger in this kiss forever.
However, the spell was broken, suddenly and with some roughness when Daniel found himself yanked backwards away from her. The very moment their lips parted he saw the fear and panic in her eyes. Her hand went straight to her lips as if their kiss was already fading and she had to remind herself his mouth had just been there.
He opened his mouth but found himself unable to speak. Before he could shake himself out of this trance he found himself in, he was pulled away. It was not until then that he realized who was beside him, talking to him in a stern voice so unfamiliar. Alistair.
“What did you do? Daniel, you must be mad. Mad, I say!”
He stumbled as his friend pulled him through the crowd of spectators, all of them staring at him and Penelope. Whispers could be heard, growing ever louder. Bits of conversation found their way to his ears, all of them cut off and none of them kind. “—Lord Carlton, mad as his father.” “—daughter of the Duke of Branigan. A disgrace…” “—like mother like daughter, I say.”
He frowned at this, trying to memorize that last strange comment in his mind to consider later, when at last his brain was free from the haze which currently surrounded it.
In the meantime, he allowed Alistair, seemingly recovered from his own close encounter with the ale, to pull him away from the crowd.
“Penny,” Daniel muttered. She was still there, surrounded by people, yet alone.
“You ought to have thought of her before you put on such a spectacle, old chum.” The anger in his friend’s voice was evident, but Daniel had trouble grasping the exact nature of his fury.
Suddenly, he found himself tossed onto the hard floor, his back hitting something. He was about to protest the rough treatment when—
“Perdition! What is this?” A bucket of water cascaded down his entire body and for a moment he thought he was drowning on dry land. He could not protest further, for another bucket was chugged into his face. He rubbed his eyes to get the water out and shook his head, water flying everywhere.
“There. That ought to sober you.” Alistair stood before him and peered down, hands on his hips. Daniel attempted to stand, before he slipped on the water which had puddled beneath him and fell back down.
“Hell and damnation, Daniel!” Alistair huffed and extended a hand. When Daniel took it, his friend yanked him up without a hint of care. At last on two legs, he looked around. They were near the edge of town, where the carriages of those visiting the Festival stood. The object he’d fallen against was a horse trough and the water came from a nearby well. By the looks of him, Alistair had received similar treatment just recently, as his hair was still wet and his clothes clung to him.
“They know how to sober one up, the country folk do.” He glared at Daniel and shook his head. “‘Pon my soul… What have you done? Do you even know?”
Daniel swallowed. The fog was lifting now, clarity and understanding replacing the strange, dreamlike mood he’d been in. Or rather, his stupor.
“Alistair… I… I kissed her. Penelope.”
“Indeed.” His friend crossed his arms in front of his chest. “How could you? Have you no regard for her reputation at all? You could ruin her. Ruin her!”
Daniel narrowed his eyes. A part of him was eager to point out the hypocrisy in this statement. Alistair had been the reason many a lady’s reputation in London had been stained, if not entirely ruined. While Daniel was himself a bit of a dandy, he had not caused anywhere the stain upon a lady that Alistair had. He said nothing, however, aware that before this Penelope had been someone Alistair was genuinely fond of.
“I know! Don’t you think I know? I didn’t mean to. That’s to say, I didn’t… I hardly even remember it now.”
Alistair scoffed. “Well, I’m sure that will make her feel much better. When she walks through town and everyone whispers behind her and calls her a trollop, at least she can take comfort in knowing you don’t even remember it at all.”
The bitterness and contempt in his friend’s voice cut deep. They’d been close all of their lives and Alistair was someone he could always count on to have his back. Hearing him talk in such a way, with such obvious disdain, was painful. Daniel’s hands traveled to his temples and he rubbed them in a vain attempt to chase away the headache which was forcing its way into his head.
He had kissed her. Penelope. It hadn’t been his intention at all. No, not at all. He’d meant to kiss Bridget, as planned. He was going to win, kiss her, and thus claim her. After today, all of these confusing and conflicting feelings he harbored for Penelope should have been chased away. Instead, he’d made it all so much more complicated, and so much worse. He staggered backwards, still unsteady on his feet and sat on the edge of the horse trough.
