His words from the library came back to her suddenly:The kiss was a grievous mistake. And then his words from when they had danced:Elizabeth loved Shakespeare.She would not harbor a tendre for a man who had made it abundantly clear that he had not, nor ever would, return her affection. He apparently still enjoyed toying with her, for whatever roguish reason. Maybe he had wanted to see if he could still make her act the fool? In that moment, she felt as significant as a flea, and hot tears pricked her eyes.
“Guinnie,” her sister murmured softly, taking up her hand and squeezing it while Lilias hugged her. “Whatever is vexing you?”
She bit her lip, ashamed to admit the truth, but she had to confide in someone. “He makes me wanton and wicked. I had thought I had conquered it, but all it took was one moment last week trapped in the library with him, and I was like Eve in the Garden of Eden.” She pressed her fingertips to her pounding temples as Vivian and Lilias both gaped at her. She knew she was making no sense. It was all a muddled mess in her own head, for heaven’s sake. “I cannot take a bite of his apple ever again!” she wailed.
“What?” Vivian gasped.
“Perhaps you ought to start at the beginning,” Lilias said, her voice calm but her blue eyes as wide as saucers.
Guinevere nodded and, taking a deep breath, quickly told them how Asher had burst into the library just as she was confronting Lord Charolton and how he had planted a facer to the man and then threatened him. And then she told them about the kiss.
When she was done speaking, silence descended between the three of them. Both women stared at her, making her feel as if she were an insect being studied.
“You actually said,Do not be a blind fool?” Vivian asked.
Guinevere’s cheeks burned even hotter. “Yes, he discomfited me.”
“I daresay,” Lilias replied, smirking. “I thought you sounded rather breathless on the other side of the door, but I never imagined you were in the library with Carrington.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you.”
Lilias waved a dismissive hand. “Think nothing of it,” she said so readily and airily that Guinevere suspected Lilias was keeping secrets of her own. “It’s very lucky that Carrington was in that part of the house, but does it not seem odd to you? Why would he wander into the library during the middle of a ball?” She stared at Guinevere as if she was supposed to have the answer.
Guinevere frowned. “I did question that, and I made a complete cake of myself by asking him if he had followed me, and he told me in no uncertain terms that he had not.”
Lilias nibbled her lip for a moment. “I suppose he could have been meeting someone else, another lady—”
Lilias’s words and Vivian’s accompanying nod made Guinevere’s stomach clench. She’d already considered that he might have come upon her when he was trying to have an illicit rendezvous with another woman. How dreadfully embarrassing and beyond the pale of him to kiss her!
“Or,” Vivian said, “he could have simply wanted to get away from the crush. Did you not say Carrington never had a taste for London Society?”
Guinevere shrugged. “I’m sure I did say it, but he had taste enough for Elizabeth, didn’t he?”
That silenced both her sister and Lilias for a moment, but then Lilias took a deep breath and said, “What if we missed something in our examination of what occurred between Carrington and Elizabeth? What if she somehow trapped him?”
Guinevere opened her mouth to protest, but Vivian spoke before she could. “What if Carringtondidfollow you to the library?”
She hated how her sister’s words made a little bubble of hope open within her chest. She would not be so foolish. “He did not follow me. I already told you as much.”
“Honestly, though, Sister,” Vivian said, sounding a trifle exasperated, which was not like her at all. “What do you suppose he would have said? If I followed someone and then they demanded to know if I had, I would not admit it unless I was certain they had wanted me to follow them. When you asked Carrington if he had followed you, what had you been talking about?”
“Lilias had just said I ought to consider Kilgore if he was truly pursuing me this time, and that reformed rogues make the best husbands.”
Lilias nodded. “I’m positive they do.” Her tone was wistful. No doubt she was thinking of Greybourne.
“Well there you have it!” Vivian announced. “Whyever would a proud man admit to following you directly after Lilias announced that you should allow Kilgore to pursue you?”
That same bubble of hope expanded a little further, but Guinevere sternly reminded herself of the past. “You,” she said to her sister, “have been spending too much time with Lilias, who reads too many Gothic novels.” She eyed Lilias, who blushed. “Let us not forget the truth that Carrington only pursued me to spite his father.” When both women opened their mouths as if to protest, Guinevere held up a silencing hand and said, “Recall, if you will, that I got that information from Carrington’s father, who told it to me by way of apology for his son’s treatment of me.” It shamed her to the core to acknowledge how foolish she had been, but it did her no good to embrace a fantasy. And when both women stayed silent and looked chagrined, she knew they realized the truth of the situation, as well.
“I’m glad that’s settled,” she said, her lungs suddenly feeling as if they no longer worked properly. “Let us not speak of Carrington linked with me ever again.”
“Yes, of course,” Vivian said, “but—”
“Nobuts!” Guinevere replied, a tad sharper than she’d intended, but her patience was expiring. “I have to be wise for myself as well as you and Freddy. And it does not come naturally,” she said with a weak laugh. “I had always imagined a grand love for myself, that some man would come along and see my special worth, appreciate my unique qualities. So when Carrington appeared and it seemed he did, well, I…I got carried away with my own fantasy. But in the end, Mama was right. Grand love is for novels, and men only appreciate me for my appearance and dowry, except perhaps Kilgore, who I suspect simply enjoys being perverse and doing the opposite of what people expect of him.”
“Guinnie.” Vivian set her hand on Guinevere’s arm. “You do not mean that.”
“Which part?” Guinevere asked, feeling suddenly extremely tired.
