No more doubt as to whether this was meant to be or not.
“Justin.” Her voice rasped on his name. He moaned in response. He was walking her backward, off the path. She didn’t stop until she felt herself pressed up against the trunk of a tree.
He’d released her head by now, both of his hands frantically caressing her body, searching for access she had no intention of denying.
He’d hitched one of her legs up. Rhoda opened for him; she wanted to feel his arousal. She wanted nothing between them.
“Why are you wearing breeches?”
The words fell like cold water on their passion. He also seemed to take notice of how she’d done her hair and examined her wardrobe in confusion. “Is this a joke?”
She did not want to lie to him. “I was there. Today.” She hated that he’d dropped her leg and stepped back. Where she’d been hot a few seconds before, frigid air hit her now. “At White’s,” she added.
His brows lowered as she added to his confusion. “But, how? And why?”
“I saw you, heard what you said to Lord Kensington.” She was afraid to answer his question. “Sophia, Cecily, and I—”
“You snuck into an all-gentlemen’s club?” He didn’t sound as though he thought it was very amusing.
“I needed to place the bet.” Her heart plummeted. The shame she felt wasn’t nearly as heartbreaking as the betrayal she saw in the depths of his eyes.
He lowered his brows. “I asked you not to. You gave me your word.”
She hadn’t spoken any such agreement, but to be fair, she’d nodded. She’d indicated that she would accede to his wishes.
“But it is the only way—”
He took another step away from her. “I see you have so little faith in me that you deemed it necessary.” And then realization narrowed his eyes. “Whose name were you wagering in? Not your own. That would never be allowed.”
“Viscount Dorwich,” she stated baldly.
“Mine?”
She’d gone too far this time.
She’d ruined everything. He’d never trust her again. “Idohave faith in you!” She could not fight the tears that had accumulated behind her eyes. “I do! More than you know! So much so that I had to! You would not do it for yourself! You would never do it for us.”
He had turned his face away from her, and she could see his jaw clench and then unclench again. When she thought he wasn’t going to say anything, he surprised her. “I don’t even know what honor is anymore,” he said so softly the wind could have easily carried his words away. He swallowed hard and then a mask dropped over his features, hiding any emotions he’d shown moments ago.
“Justin.” She wanted to beg him to understand, but… his very goodness, his purity was part of what drew her to him. She did not want for him to change. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t go through with it.”
But she had doubted him, and, by his lack of reaction, he apparently didn’t recognize any difference between the two.
She’d been willing to do whatever might be necessary. Because she’d wanted him. She’d wanted it all. Had she been so very wrong? She wished she felt more certain of her position. She wished such questions could be answered more easily. Perhaps then, she could defend herself.
“Best repair yourself and I’ll escort you to your mother’s house. I don’t imagine she knows you went out in public like that.”
He suddenly appeared very tired.
Rhoda buttoned the top of her shirt and her jacket, and then smoothed down the creased fronts of her breeches. She could not take his arm while they walked. People would think two men were…
Well, she would walk a little in front of him.
Time’s Running Out
Justin felt sick inside. A failure. She’d not believed in him. What sickened him further was that he’d not believed in himself either.
He’d disparaged her for her costume and yet with her walking just ahead of him, hips swaying, he wanted nothing more than to run his hands along the sweet, round curve of her bottom. He wanted to lay her on the grass and remove that ridiculous disguise inch by inch.
