The use of her given name wasn’t what stopped her. It was the way the man ran the s and the h of her name together that was familiar and sensual. She could picture his lips moving slowly, languorously over those consonants.
Ashley froze, but her eyes moved without permission. They fastened on the couch in the corner of the room, on the two forms sprawled there. The man’s cravat was loose, and his black hair tousled. The woman’s dress was falling off her shoulder, the curve of one white breast exposed.
Ashley couldn’t breathe. The air in her lungs burned hot and dry. “No,” she wheezed. She stumbled back, shaking her head, willing the sight of the lovers to vanish.
She blinked, but Nick was still holding another woman in his arms; his face was still slightly flushed from desire for another. His cerulean blue eyes met hers, and their gazes held. His was expectant. Unrepentant.
“You bastard,” she spat.
“You’re going to thank me for this one day,” he said.
Ashley shook her head and fumbled behind her for the door. While her hands groped, her mind easily grasped the situation. Nick had wanted her to see this. He wanted to hurt her.
She managed to close her fingers over the knob and yank it open. “You bastard!”
She flew out the door, the sobs already threatening to rise up and spill over. Instead of giving into tears, she slammed the door shut as hard as she could. The house seemed to shake around her.
Small mewling gasps escaped her throat, and she covered her mouth to silence them.
No. She would not cry. She would make him cry.
She stumbled numbly forward, the light from the chandelier in the vestibule too bright and revealing. Thank God she was alone for the moment. The butler must see her, but his expression was blind and his gaze situated somewhere a few feet above her head.
The tinkle of familiar feminine voices echoed in the vestibule, and Ashley had enough wits about her to dive behind a thick potted plant. She could not allow her cousin and friends to see her like this. They would know instantly that something was wrong. And no matter what else she did to revenge the wrong Nick Martingale had done her—and she would revenge it—she would never tell anyone how he’d shamed her. How he’d used her. How she’d allowed it.
The three girls stopped in front of the clock, and Ashley slouched down as much as she could in her low-cut crepe and satin ball gown.
“Where could she have gone?” Catie was saying. “I’m starting to worry.”
“Oh, you know Ashley,” Josie said with a flip of her hand. “She’s probably wriggled herself into some delicious trouble. She’ll tell us all about it tomorrow.”
Maddie looked concerned. “Trouble? Should we have a word with Lady Rundale?”
Ashley bit back a low sob. She tasted blood on her lip and didn’t care. Wise Catie, impetuous Josie, and caring Maddie—what would she do without them? The four girls had always shared everything, but Ashley hadn’t shared her romance with Lord Nicholas Martingale. She’d planned to, but she’d been afraid they would see right through her, see how deep her feelings for him ran.
And she’d vowed with the other members of the Spinster’s Club never to fall in love or marry. Ashley could still remember the night the four of them had made their solemn pact. She’d been eight, and the other girls much the same age.
The promise had been Catie’s idea.
“I propose that we make a pledge,” Catie had said, her hazel eyes shining. “We should promise never to marry.”
Ashley had blinked and then her heart had done a somersault. Never marry! What an exciting idea!
When she’d been seven, after reading a story about the travels of a man named Gulliver, Ashley had asked her mother why girls never went on exciting adventures like Gulliver. Her mother had sighed and said that when Ashley had a husband and six children to look after, she would be too tired to think about adventures.
The solution had seemed clear to Ashley. Do not marry. Then nothing could interfere with all the wonderful adventures just waiting to be experienced.
Catie had raised her hand. “I, Catherine Anne Fullbright, swear never, ever, ever to marry so long as I live. Now your turn Maddie.”
Ashley half-expected Maddie, prim and proper even then, to balk. But she said, “I, Madeleine Richael Fullbright, swear never, ever to marry so long as I live. Now your turn, Josie.”
Josie was practically jumping with eagerness. “I, Josephine Linet Hale, swear never, ever, ever, to ever marry so long as I live.” She jumped up and put a hand on her heart. “I promise to be a pirate!”
Ashley quickly raised her own hand. If Josie was allowed to go on about pirates, it would be nigh impossible to make her stop. “I, Ashley Gweneira Brittany, swear not to marry for as long as I live. But you know what this means, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re going to be spinsters.”
“It won’t be bad to be unmarried if we’re all unmarried,” Josie said. “Nothing is bad as long as you’re not in it alone.”
“So we’ll make it fun,” Catie said. “We’ll be the Spinster’s Club!”
