“Why did you do that?” Rosilee whispered.
He retreated a step, and she was surprised to feel the loss of his proximity so keenly. “I don’t know.”
He didn’t know? Should he not know something like that? Or did men just go and kiss women willy-nilly as they pleased?
“Why did you kiss me back?” he asked.
She blinked at him but said simply, “Curiosity.”
Surprise flashed across his face. “About what?”
“The experience of my first kiss,” she whispered, still feeling the heat of his kiss tingling on her lips.
“Iwas your first kiss?”
“Yes...” Was that a look of horror on his face?
“Christ, I’m sorry.”
“Why? What are you sorry for?”
He retreated two more steps, staring at her in horror. “I defiled you.”
“You...what?” What on earth did he mean bythat? She saw it then, it hadn’t been horror, but rather... self-loathing that had entered his expression. Her heart dropped to her shoes. Was this because he thought he was a monster covered in the shadows of his father and the title he inherited from him? “No, you didn’t defile me. How could you believe that?”
“I am dirty. Everything about me is dirty.”
Actually, he smelled rather nice to her. Earthy, not dirty. But she couldn’t tell him that. He wouldn’t listen to her, not while he wore that pained look on his face. Lord, as first kisses went, Rosilee had enjoyed it. But this...
She could only stare at him staring at her, understanding that he was waiting for her confirmation, or perhaps a slap. He couldwait until he died! She held his gaze stubbornly without uttering a word.
He sighed. “I procured an invitation to a ball the day after tomorrow.”
“Oh.” So, this is why he had sought her out tonight. The silence turned awkward, so she blurted, “My dresses are rather out of date. I hope you won’t be too embarrassed to attend with me.”
“I won’t be.” After a moment. “I’ll have a modiste come by with some gowns.”
“No! You don’t have to go that far.”
“I insist,” he said softly. “You deserve beautiful things.”
And you don’t?But she couldn’t say it. She understood then, this was his way to apologize for “sullying” her person with a kiss, and if she didn’t accept it, he would carry shame and guilt with him for who knew how long.
Rosilee nodded. “Very, well. Thank you.”
He nodded.
Sudden nerves prickled along her skin. “Youwillattend with me, won’t you?”
“Of course,” he said. “You are my responsibility.”
Responsibility . . .
Yet he would not take responsibility for their kiss? He would not admit to its magic. He would rather turn it into something bitter.Shetasted something bitter in her mouth suddenly. She could also glimpse that frightened boy of years ago occupying the man in this moment.
She sighed.
She was going to her first London ball. With a man she had kissed. As his distant cousin, his ward.Well, you wanted adventure all your life, Rosilee. Someone could have told her that some adventures came with conflict and confusion.
