Chapter Thirteen
As Miranda lay in her bed, she called herself a hundred different kinds of fool.
A fool for being alone in the stables.
A fool for not running when she had the chance.
A fool for kissing him back.
A fool for enjoying it.
A fool for anticipating it happening again.
Dear Lord, what had she become? Yet even as she knew of her folly, she wasn’t repentant.
Not in the least.
She’d never known nor expected a kiss to feel that way. It was astounding, and for the rest of her life she’d relive that experience over and over. Her mind flooded with the memory as her body remembered the hundreds of pleasurable sensations his touch evoked. It was beyond impossible to ever forget, and for the first time she understood how ladies were ruined.
The temptation was quite powerful, and while she hoped she had the fortitude to walk away, she wasn’t sure she would have wanted to if he had pressured her to do more.
Not that she knew whatmoreexactly entailed.
The unknown haunted her, and she wanted to understand. . . to know what happened beyond the first kiss, the first touch. If the pleasure brought by her first experience in simply kissing were any indication, whatevermoreentailed, it may surely overwhelm her.
How delicious!
What a dichotomy, to know the folly of her behavior yet to be utterly ravenous for more of it. If only her sister could see her now. Would she know? Would she be able to look at Miranda and instinctively know something had changed? She rose from her bed and walked to the mirror, studying herself. She didn’t look different, but she felt different.
A little more feminine.
A little wiser.
A little more powerful.
Had Liliah experienced this same rush of awareness? Desperately, Miranda longed for her sister, to sit and chat, ask questions she knew Liliah would be kind enough to answer.
Loneliness flooded her.
Then trepidation.
She had hoped the viscount would understand her need for duplicity. Only she wasn’t sure, she’d just met him.
And kissed him.
My, that hadn’t taken long. He’d been in residence for merely a day and her world had tilted. She walked back to her bed and snuggled into the sheets.
Mrs. Keyes had informed her that she was to take up residence in the nicer room, the one where the viscount had taken her after the pond fiasco. She wasn’t about to argue with the new arrangement; it was far more to her liking. The bed was much softer, the coverlet a bit thicker, and the fireplace much larger. As if proving her point, the wood in the hearth crackled loudly. It wasn’t as opulent as her room in London, but it was a far cry better than the room adjoining the nursery.
She wasn’t sure why the viscount had insisted she move to a guest room, and she wasn’t going to ask either. Simply enjoy.
As she drifted off to sleep, her mind lingered on the memory of the kiss, her body flooding with warmth from within as unconsciousness overwhelmed her. She awoke in the morning with the sensation that she had merely blinked, only to be greeted by the rising sun. It had been a chore to accustom herself to rising early. She’d always awoken when she pleased in London, and that was certainly unacceptable here, while employed.
But she had grown rather fond of the sunrise, and so, with only a slight reluctance, she rose from bed and padded over to the window. The rich orange color tinted the sky, and she breathed deeply of the crisp morning air as she curled her toes against the cool floor. A shiver ran down her back, and she decided it would be wise to dress before she caught a chill.
In short work, she’d donned a simple day dress and proceeded to pin her hair into a modest chignon. She wasn’t as skilled at producing the perfect coif, so she maintained her simple hairstyle day after day. Ready, she silently slipped out into the hall, wary to be quiet in case the viscount’s room was nearby. She rather expected it to be somewhere else in the house—she was clearly in the guest wing—but she would be cautious nonetheless. She would rather have a fortifying cup of tea before she faced him once more.
That was one aspect of the day she both anticipated and dreaded. Pushing the thoughts aside, she took the stairs down to the main floor. As she rounded the corner, she raised a hand in greeting to Mrs. Keyes, who was bustling down the hall.
