“Labeling my kisses, my caresses, an unfortunate incident is a serious insult to my manhood. Is that perchance a challenge to best my performance in the gazebo?”
“Don’t be an ass.”
This time he did allow his laughter to escape. She was nothing short of magnificent. The cloak she wore was unfastened, leaving her gown exposed. She still had the glow of a woman who had recently enjoyed a passionate embrace, and that mussed, slightly disheveled look had kept the erection in his trousers throbbing ever since they had entered the carriage.
Wisps of blond hair were falling around her face and the tops of her breasts seemed ready to spill out of that sparkling blue gown at any moment. Trevor silently cursed the driving skill of his coachman, for if they hit a particularly nasty rut the force might succeed in jolting that pair of beauties free of their confines.
The very idea put a fine sheen of sweat on Trevor’s brow.
“I am sure this will all be forgotten by tomorrow evening,” he said smoothly. “The most appealing element of any gossip is its newness. This little tidbit will be dropped the moment the rumormongers discover new grist to run through their mill.”
“This is not a mere tidbit of gossip, this is a banquet,” Meredith snapped. Her mouth twisted one way, then another. “All possibilities of a quick ending to this little drama vanished the moment you stood by my side to defend me. Until your appearance, all the duchess had was suspicions.”
“We were seen dancing together a mere three quarters of an hour before you returned to the ballroom,” Trevor replied, wondering why he felt such a need to defend his actions. “The duchess is a woman of only moderate intelligence, but even a lackwit would be have been able to determine I was the person who put you in that most charming, disheveled state.”
Meredith ducked her head. For a moment Trevor thought she was blushing, but when she lifted her chin, her eyes were blazing with emotion.
“Suspicion is one thing, proof another,” she insisted.
“Proof? What proof?” Trevor asked. “We were not caught in a compromising situation.”
“Exactly. If you had not come to my defense, I could have brazened it out, left the duchess with only suspicions of what I had been doing and no idea of with whom.” Meredith turned her head and groaned. “Your defense of me ruined everything.”
“I cannot imagine what came over me,” he said, fixing her a look of mock dismay. “The duchess was clearly doing her best to humiliate you, and I thoughtlessly intervened to prevent it. In retrospect that was a very uncharacteristic action, for I am constantly told I seldom behave with even the slightest degree of honor. Therefore, I extend my apologies.”
“Would you kindly do me the courtesy of waiting until I have left before indulging your off-color sense of humor? Unlike you, I do not find this situation in any way amusing.” She rested her head against the cool glass of the carriage window and sighed.
Normally such a scathing set down would have had him answering her in kind. Yet she seemed genuinely upset, and for some ridiculous reason Trevor’s conscience pricked at him.
“Is it really all that horrible?”
“I am a strong, forceful person in many regards, yet I posses one keen weakness—a great horror of scandals.” She closed her eyes and sighed again. “A scandal of this ilk has far-reaching consequences, my lord. It can be detrimental in ways we have yet to discover. The perception of our discretion can have even more harmful effects, not just for us but for various members of our family.”
He grimaced. “When you speak of your family, I presume you are referring to your husband?”
“My what?” She sat up suddenly, nearly knocking her head on the window latch in the process.
“Your husband, Lady Meredith. When this scandal reaches his ears, will he be very cross with you?”
She gasped and gave him a strange look, then opened her mouth to reply. She closed it abruptly, without uttering a sound, opened it a second time, closed it yet again, this time biting her lips together so tightly they turned white.
“Who told you I was married?” she asked at last.
“No one. I just assumed.” A gnawing anxiety sprang to life in the back of his mind, but he cautioned himself against overreacting. Neither her attitude nor her kisses were those of a maiden. Of that Trevor felt very certain.
“You are a very beautiful woman, Meredith. I remember well the year you made your debut in Society, and despite your unconventional demeanor, you were much sought after by the young bucks. And the old men. And most other males in-between.
“I knew you had turned down many proposals that year, but I naturally assumed you had married sometime in the interim. It was a long time ago.”
“I am not that old,” she cried out with indignity.
“Old?” Trevor smiled faintly. “You are far from a crone, and yet even you must concede you are hardly in the first blush of youth.”
“I am twenty-six years old.” Meredith snorted. “Four years younger than you, my lord.”
“And well past the age of marriage.” His eyes met hers. “My assumption was a natural one.”
“Your assumption was an insult.” The look she shot him was one of pure disgust. “And speaks of your contemptuous regard of women. I can assure you if I were pledged to another man, wed before God, I would not have been kissing you in the garden. I would honor my vows, especially that of fidelity.”
