Emily twisted up her lips into a grimace. “Lord Carlisle thought I was you.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Likely excuse. “I’m at least six inches taller and—”
“I was standing on a box. And I’m wearing your perfume, remember?” Was it possible? “Rhoda, do you, are you—?”
“No!”
She couldn’t be. And besides, it was too late now! “I mean, he’s been a friend to me. But I… I’m not at all…” And then she realized how much courage Emily had shown. “You did it. You actually did it.”
“Well, you said you wouldn’t leave with Blakely until I did. Figured I’d best get it over with.” Oh, God! Blakely! She was going to have to marry Blakely now! She’d promised Emily! And truth be told… she didn’t have a choice.
A knock sounded at the door and, without waiting for an answer, Cecily stepped in.
She regarded them both with a murderous light behind her eyes. “You two deserve to be thrashed! Did you plan this together?” She glared in Rhoda’s direction. “I’ve no doubt this was your idea.”
She must think Rhoda had been hiding this scheme from her earlier. But she hadn’t!
Cecily turned to Emily. “But you cheated, I’d venture to guess, at the game. And now! Now there is a kind gentleman sitting in the duke’s study who’s going to be forced into offering for you. He’s going to sacrifice his freedom due to no fault of his own. What you’ve done is utterly reprehensible!” She paced back and forth, waving her hands in the air. “How could you? Both of you? How could you?”
Rhoda couldn’t allow Cecily to blame Emily for this. Rhoda had pushed her. If only she hadn’t made that blasted pact earlier this week. She’d only done in it an effort to spur Emily to make more efforts at flirting. “You don’t understand, Cecily.” Oh, what a mess she’d made. With everything. “And you never will.”
“Why don’t you explain it to me then?” Cecily sat down beside Emily. “You’ve been secretive for months now. We’re your friends, aren’t we? Tell us what’s wrong. I mean, besides the obvious. Besides the fact that St. John took advantage of you and then died. What else is bothering you?”
Rhoda didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell them everything! She couldn’t!
“None of us are perfect. You know this! I made a horrible decision when I married Flavion, but all of you stood beside me. And then I committed adultery.Adultery,Rhoda. Whether it fits the legal definition or not, I lay with a man who was not the man I’d married. What can you have possibly done that is any worse than that?” Cecily cried.
Rhoda couldn’t tell them. She just couldn’t. She squeezed her eyes together.
“Why are you blaming Rhoda?” Emily demanded.
Oh, Emily!
NowEmilyand Cecily would be at odds with one another.
“She had nothing to do with it. I compromised Lord Carlisle. I am the person responsible for that poor dear man sitting with Prescott now. And I’m glad.” Emily jumped up and strode across the rug to wear Rhoda sat. “Now Rhoda is free to marry Blakely, without worrying about me. And she won’t have to worry about any stupid wagers, or insincere praise… or worse! Now, if both of you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”
Where could she possibly be going off to right now?
“What business?” Rhoda demanded.
“I’m to schedule your elopement.”
Oh, hell.
Justin could not believe his own stupidity and utter lack of self-restraint. He sat in Prescott’s study, stunned, berating himself in a thousand different ways for his behavior.
When she’d first stepped inside, he’d thought she was Miss Goodnight. He’d even said her name, hadn’t he? But then the scent of her perfume had made him think she was her friend.
He’d been keenly aware of Miss Mossant all day. In fact, he’d done nothing but think of her lately. Perhaps if he’d not been so besotted, he wouldn’t have accosted her friend.
He ought to have known.
But he’d… wanted it to be Miss Mossant. He’d wanted Miss Mossant to purposely find him, and then press herself against him, reach her arms up around his neck.
“Damn, Justin, I never thought I’d see the day.” Prescott sat on the corner of his desk.
Justin wondered if Dev would, in fact, read him the riot act for compromising a young woman under his protection or if this was merely a formality in order to placate the irate Mrs. Mossant.
