She had kissed the biggest wolf in town. She had done much more but would never admit that. In fact, at this very moment, all she wanted to do was forget.
Nash’s brows lifted, and Phaedra couldn’t tell whether it was in shock or intrigue. Perhaps both.
“And?” Nash prompted. “Do the others know you have cavorted with the enemy?”
“Enemy is a bit strong is it not?” Deerhurst wasn’t her enemy. Just a wolf. A scoundrel. The real enemy was that book full of wagers and the hands that wrote them.
“How about the kiss?” This time the delight was clear in his tone. “Did you enjoy it?”
She shrugged to hide the flush of emotion that rushed to her heart. “The kiss was passable.”
“Only passable?”
Phaedra froze. That hadn’t been Nash’s voice. She whirled to find Deerhurst behind her, peering at her with an unfathomable expression. “And here I thought you shifted the world beneath my feet.”
Nash made a gurgling sound in the back of his throat. “Am I in the presence of true love happening right before my eyes?”
Phaedra imparted a glare to Nash. “This is not true love happening.” To Deerhurst she directed, “The world did not shift for either of us.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her, his lips slightly pursed. “I’ve never known you to be a woman of denial or pretense.”
Her heart seized.
She couldn’t believehe, of all people, would accuse her of such things. What made it worse was that he wasn’t wrong. But Phaedra didn’t take issue with what he was accusing her of being but rather the gall he had to accuse her at all.
She wanted to whack him with her cane. He’d fooled her, seduced her, and broken her trust. Which was much worse than breaking her heart.
Even Nash shook his head in that way that said,Man, you must have lost all your marbles.
“If you’ll excuse me.” She couldn’t stand to be in the traitor’s presence. She turned to leave.
“Wait,” Deerhurst said, moving to block her away. “A moment, please, Phaedra.”
“No,” she said. “You get nothing from me ever again.”
He caught her wrist.
“Deerhurst,” she hissed when he pulled her from the room. She glanced around frantically, but no one seemed to take any note of them, too immersed in the pages scattered all over the ballroom. All around her, she could hear the soft curses of men and the intake of breaths as ladies read the contents of the copies they made.
Phaedra twisted her hand to escape Deerhurst’s grip, but he merely stooped to pick her up and set her over his shoulder.
The nerve!
“Let me go, you barbarian! Scoundrel! Oaf!”
Why did she not think to bring her pistol?
*
Deerhurst had mademany questionable choices in his life. But never had he regretted any of them the way he regretted not telling Phaedra the truth from the start. Her cold indifference chipped away at the calm he’d forcibly instilled in himself these past few days. He’d wanted to give her space, time to get over the worst of her outrage.
Perhaps that hadn’t been such a good idea. Deerhurst couldn’t help but wonder if he had pressed, if he had crawled on his knees before her, if she would have made a different decision. Because tonight, he had watched as the consequences of his mistake caused what could only be described as the biggest scandal thetonhad ever seen.
He didn’t know whether she could recover from this. No, there was no need to wonder. She couldn’t. None of those women could. And perhaps that had been their point. They had already been laughed at and wagered upon. Why not expose the very men who had hurt them?
But then, they hadn’t exposed him, Avondale, Warrick, or Saville. The true beasts behind it all.
Deerhurst entered the Stewart library, shut the door, and twisted the lock in place. He strode to the center of the room, a good few feet away from her only route of escape, and only then lowered her to her feet.
