Serena

She responded like a tart, throwing herself into the kiss with abandon. She wanted him, in every imaginable way. He had been arrogant and judgmental, and she didn’t care. His kiss was delicious—the moment was delicious—and she was not about to make any excuses for herself or feel remorse for taking this moment and making it hers. She had gotten just what she wanted.

Just as she had forgotten the cold, she forgot the proprieties, she forgot everything except the feel of his arms around her body and the taste of his tongue teasing hers with his intentions. Those intentions excited her imagination.

He was dangerous, and if she were honest with herself, she would have to admit she wanted that danger, wanted him. He pulled away and stared at her as though he could not believe what he had just done, or what she had just allowed.

“I must get you back. I … I am not such a cad that I would expose you to censure. Come.” He took her hand and quietly led her into a crowded part of the ballroom so expertly that none were the wiser about where they had come from.

The waltz had been requested again, and the music floated in the air as he turned her into his hold. Serena objected but only found the voice to do so mildly. “We must not. People will talk. You must know we cannot waltz twice in the same evening with one another. This is the country, and people would look our way and raise their eyebrows.”

He laughed. “People will always gossip and stare.” He inclined his head. “If you like, however, I can lead you off the floor, and we can go find something to eat.”

She smiled mischievously. “No, oh no, I really do love this dance. I suppose I can weather the storm of a little ‘talk’. This is just too beautiful to forgo.”

He gave her an arched look and said softly, “You do that so well that I cannot help but wonder, Serena, how is it my nephew hasn’t already whisked you down the aisle?”

“I do what so well?” she asked, ignoring the rest.

“Innocence,” he answered glibly.

She stiffened and took a moment to collect herself before she said sharply and with a measured taunt, “Are you saying that I am not innocent?”

He was fractionally taken aback but recovered. “No, I am saying that your smile, your glittering eyes, your manner of speaking should have seduced a more innocent man than me.”

She pulled a face at him. “Somehow you have found a way to offer me insult.” She shook her head, “Allow me leave to tell you, my lord, that first of all, I have not flirted or tried to seduce your nephew in any way. And as to walking down the aisle, my lord, I have a very strong opinion. And it is this—in my estimation, it takes two willing individuals to take that journey. It is a journey that will last them a very long time and should not be taken lightly. I am fully aware of that fact and, thus, very determined to only take that walk with the man I love.” As soon as the words were out, she bit her lip. What had she just done? She shouldn’t be telling him such things. Who, when, and why she would marry was her own business.

He frowned. “Yet my nephew remains completely attached to you. Why, he hangs on your every word.”

He had not heard or perhaps had heard but not believed her. It was her turn to frown, and she answered, “If he hung on my every word, he would presently be up at school. You mistake. Very thoroughly, you mistake.”

“It is difficult to believe that the lad would stay at your side without encouragement,” he pursued scathingly.

She broke from his hold. She would not listen to more of this from him. She thought it was to her credit that she held back the hand that twitched to slap his face. He seemed to bring out all the ire in her. Why?

She started to turn away and said nothing to him. Why should she bother? Why should she be put in a position to defend herself? The truth was the truth. In the end, it would force itself to be seen. If he could not see it now, then he was not really worthy of her company. She turned back to give him a hard glare and wondered how he could have kissed her if he believed what he had just said to her.

She was spared making a scene by the good reverend, who appeared at that moment to offer her his bent arm. “My dear, you looked … displeased. I have come to take you to dinner.”

“Oh, Eustace, thank you, but …” She hesitated. If she went to dinner with him she would be trapped into listening to his prosy conversation. She said, “I would so much rather wait for the next country dance.” She totally ignored Lord Arrogant.

Daniel Pendleton’s eyes narrowed, and she saw by the look on his face that he was displeased with the outcome of their conversation as well as with Eustace’s interference. She smiled to herself and tried to ignore the fact that he was bowing himself off and moving away. Even an unpleasant argument with Lord Arrogant was better than a quiet conversation with almost anyone else. However, she was still seething, and it took her a moment or two to collect her temper.

A country dance was struck up, and the reverend said, “Look there, Serena. You are acquainted with that young woman, are you not?”

“Yes, I am. Sarah is a lovely person.” She eyed him, and both her expression and her stiffness challenged him to say otherwise. She knew the rumors. She knew what people were saying. She had bumped into Sarah in town only last week and had offered her support and friendship.

“Then you know, of course, what she has done … and—”

“Stop, Eustace. I will not hear a word against her,” Serena said.

“That is because you are so good … so innocent—”

She cut him off again. “I am neither, but I am her friend and won’t listen to anything anyone has to say that is not complimentary to her.” She eyed him disapprovingly. “Eustace, I should think a man of the cloth would not either.”

If this discomposed him, he showed no sign of it as he simply sighed and said, “Sinners are not given the same consideration as others. Besides, it isn’t gossip, is it?” His chin indicated the young woman in question, standing between her parents. Serena frowned because the young lady appeared both sick at heart and ill at ease.

The reverend said, “She is with child … and will soon be showing, yet no one has offered to make an honest woman of her. Does that not speak volumes?”

“It does. It speaks to the deplorable nature of a man who would leave a young woman in such straits. We all make unwise decisions from time to time, but, Eustace, I take leave to tell you that I do not fault her. What of the so-called gentleman who has left her in such a predicament? It is unthinkable that he should have pleasured himself and then turned his back on her.” Serena shook her head. “Life is harsh when a woman does no more than the man does and yet is held to a higher—different standard.”