“Very well. But we need to be quick about it.”
They emerged from the trees, but there was no fountain. There was no folly. And before she realized what she’d gotten herself into, her back was pressed against a stone wall, and the baron’s mouth covered hers.
“Mmpff!” Her hands landed on his chest and she tried pushing him away.
“What’s wrong?” He pulled back just enough for her to turn her face away from him. “You said you wanted to go walking…” She felt something hard pressed against her belly at the same time she realized he tasted and smelled of whisky.
Caroline shook her head as much as the embrace allowed. “Walking,” she insisted, straining even as she felt his mouth on her neck. “I said walking.”
“Everyone knows what ‘walking’ means.” She felt his lips move over her skin. She didn’t want this man kissing her. She barely knew him! Why, oh why hadn’t she listened to that inner voice that tried warning her?
“Stop! Stop now.” She would scream if he didn’t do as she asked.
An unexpected wave of nausea hit her.
People would come outside, see her alone with a gentleman, and know she’d acted irresponsibly. They wouldn’t care that she’d believed the invitation to walk in the garden to be an innocent one, and the ton’s tenuous acceptance would be revoked once and for all.
She would disappoint her mother. Embarrass her brother. Ruin her sisters…
Lose her job.
Her panic built, her muscles tightening with it as her heart clenched, the threat of tears stinging at her eyes. She could not attract attention, but she could not allow this to happen.
So, she would have to get away on her own.
The baron was half-drunk, stronger and larger than she was, but uncoordinated. And there was one area where she knew all men were vulnerable. She raised her knee and…
“The lady asked you to stop.” Maxwell’s familiar voice broke through at the exact moment her knee slammed into Lord Dankworth’s offensive appendage, and suddenly she was free.
Shaking, Caroline stumbled back, into the wall but away from the man she’d believed was trustworthy when he was really a pervert and a liar and a hideous, repulsive person!
Utterly disgusted with the male half of her species, she glanced between the two men, one bent over, moaning and the other looking angry and ominous. But between the baron’s insidious attack and Maxwell Black ignoring her all evening, neither deserved to be as upset as she was.
“I consented to walking through the garden.” Her voice shook as she addressed Lord Dankworth. “Nothing more.” Unexpected energy surged through Caroline as she pushed away from the wall.
“And you…” She pointed a finger in Maxwell’s direction, not sure what to accuse him of. His following her outside could not have been a coincidence. Or was it? “You!” Words failed her. She stomped one slippered foot and turned, intent upon storming off.
She would have succeeded, if not for Max’s hand snaking out to halt her.
“Are you all right?” Holding her close, Caroline caught hints of his breath, which was spicy and minty. Maxwell’s touch, she noticed, was reassuring rather than threatening.
That, along with a massive sense of relief, made her knees go weak.
Her anger drained away as quickly as it had come, taking that strange burst of energy with it. It was practically impossible to stay cross with the person ensuring she remained upright.
“I wouldn’t think that would matter to you.” Shifting a wary glance to where the baron was standing once again, her voice caught.
Maxwell cursed—saying a word out loud that she’d only read before. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine.” Caroline answered. When he lifted a brow, she exhaled. “It was just a kiss. I’m fine. Really,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”
He waited a moment, and then seemed to accept her answer before addressing the man she’d foolishly trusted.
“Bother Lady Caroline again and you’ll be damn sorry. Is that understood?”
“Or any other lady!” Caroline added, safely tucked against Maxwell’s front.
“Or any other lady,” he agreed.
