Page 12 of By Any Other Name

“It’s not as if I’m going to bruit your name about town.”

“Of course not—until you are drinking one night with your gentlemen friends and bragging about your conquests.”

“What conquest? I assure you, I do not feel as if I have won anything here.”

“An entertaining story, then. I know how gentlemen would view my actions last night. Or this evening. Boldness is not a trait valued in a lady. Nor is curiosity or a sense of adventure.”

“So now I am lumped in with every other ‘gentleman’ in the world. How do you know what I would or would not do? What have I done that would lead you to believe I am a censorious prig?”

“You are saying you approve of a woman who ventures out in gentleman’s dress? Who kisses strangers in closets?”

“I suppose I must, since I approve of you,” he shot back. He relaxed, his ready humor lighting again in his eyes. “As long, of course, as the stranger you are kissing is me.”

Rylla could not hold back a little laugh. “Gregory . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to make of you.” She reached out and took his hand between both of hers. “Will you give me your word? Promise you will not say I am Eleanor McIntyre. You can tell everyone the whole sorry story if only you don’t say it was Eleanor McIntyre who acted so.”

“I will not.” He gazed steadily into her eyes. “I give you my word as a gentleman. As a Rose of Loch Baille. I will not speak of you to anyone. I have never been introduced to Eleanor McIntyre. And I most certainly did not spend the Stewarts’ Christmas ball in a deep dark closet with her.” He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon her palm. “I want only to see you again.” He kissed the inside of her wrist. “Let me call on you.”

“No! You must not. Please stop trying to see me.”

“I cannot.” He stepped closer. “You bewitch me. Beguile me.” He raised a hand, curving it against the side of her face. “Please. Don’t run from me.”

Rylla trembled beneath his touch. She knew that running was precisely what she should do, but her feet stubbornly refused to move. He lowered his head toward her. And instead of pulling away, she closed her eyes. Surely it would not matter if she let herself have one more taste of him.

Then his mouth was on hers, so warm, so sweet, so seductive, she almost could not bear it. If it was wicked to feel the way she did, she must be steeped in sin indeed. All she wanted was to be in his arms, to have his mouth on hers, to feel this urgent heat inside. A tiny moan escaped her, and she felt his response.

With great effort of will, Rylla pulled away. “I must go.” She stepped back, opening the door to peer out into the hallway.

“No, stay with me.” His hands were on her waist, but their hold was light.

She gazed up into his face, taking in the hunger stamped upon it, his eyes hazy with desire, his mouth soft and dark from their kisses, and she wanted nothing more than to stay here and lose herself in his embrace.

“I cannot. They will be looking for me. Please, don’t walk out with me. It would mean the death of my reputation if anyone saw us.”

“I won’t.” He leaned down, resting his forehead on hers, his breath coming out in a little laugh. “Indeed, I think it will be some time before I am fit to be seen in polite company.”

Rylla tore herself away and opened the door. She looked back at him. “Remember your promise.”

“I will not speak of you.”

She closed the door and hurried away. Unable to face the other guests, Rylla turned and retreated to the cloakroom. Perhaps she could just sit there for a few minutes and recover her equanimity. As she started along the hall, she spotted Eleanor coming out of the cloakroom, frowning. Her friend glanced up and saw her.

“Rylla! Where have you been? I’ve searched all over for you.”

“I am sorry. I—um—”

Eleanor reached out, taking her hand. “Are you all right? You look flushed.”

“Yes!” Rylla seized upon the excuse Eleanor had offered. “I mean, no, I am not all right. I’m not feeling well. That is why I came here. I thought if I rested a bit—”

“I think you may have a fever.” Eleanor took her arm. “We should leave.”

“You’re right. I should return home. But you must stay. I’ll send the carriage back for you and my parents.”

“Nonsense. I’ll go with you. We’ll just get our cloaks, and I will tell your parents we’re leaving.”

Eleanor was her usual efficient self, and in only a few minutes, she and Rylla were bundled up against the cold and climbing into their waiting carriage. Rylla turned to her friend. “I am so sorry to take you away from the ball.”

“Nonsense. I don’t care about the party. I’ve already managed to offend Sir Andrew Rose. No doubt if I stayed, I would simply irritate someone else.”