Chapter 8
Rebecca gulped as Lord Rafferty strode away in a huff.
Dear God, what a kiss!
She raised shaking fingers to her lips, painfully aware of the unfamiliar sensation of desire that still coursed through her veins. It had certainly been quite a while since she’d been kissed, and she was still in shock. She hadn’t been prepared. She hadn’t known how to respond to Rafferty at all.
Rebecca had never engaged in intimacies until after she’d married. Warner had never kissed her anywhere but in her own bed. After his death, she hadn’t been courted again or even been seriously flirted with—not until Rafferty had singled her out so suddenly.
Feeling confused, Rebecca rushed back to the safety of her tiny corner of Stapleton Manor and shut the door behind her. Then, she found a chair and put her head in her hand.
What was she to do about Rafferty now? She had not asked to be kissed, she’d never encouraged him, and had done her best to ignore his bold flirtations.
But after that kiss, she couldn’t understand why she had.
Admittedly, Rafferty was not a man she approved of in general. He was too loud, too drunk too often. Although, she had noticed he had consumed fewer spirits than usual.
But why on earth would he try to seduce her now?
As she sat there, in the grip of indecision, she heard an odd sound. The scrape of something being dragged along the floor behind her chair was all too clear.
She lifted her head slowly and turned.
Lady Ava, in the process of crawling across the parquetry floor, froze halfway to the door. The girl visibly shrank from her. “Hello,” she whispered.
Rebecca sat up straighter. “Hello.”
The girl licked her lips. “Please don’t tell my papa that you saw me here.”
Rebecca stood when the girl started toward the door again. “Stop. Stand up.”
Lady Ava gained her feet, eyes wide and her lips trembling.
Rebecca approached her slowly. “Never let me catch you doing that again.”
“I wasn’t. I just…hid when you came in.”
Well, obviously. “And you were trying to sneak away from me unnoticed on your hands and knees?”
The girl nodded. “Yes.”
She sighed. “You will always be noticed. You are an earl’s daughter. Come here and let me look at your gown.”
The girl regarded Rebecca with resignation and moved to stand before her.
Rebecca quickly dusted off the girl’s skirts. “There, that is better.”
“Are you going to tell my papa?”
“I haven’t decided.” She put her hands on the girl’s shoulders and made her sit down on the settee. “Why are you not upstairs at your studies?”
“Everyone is outside but me,” the girl said in a small voice.
“Ah,” Rebecca said slowly. She remembered what it was like to be left out of the games her brothers had played. But she’d always had her sisters to keep her company. “What do you normally do at home during the day?”
“I never have to stay in my room all day if I don’t want to. I have a pony to ride, and I practice with my sword.” The last was uttered very quietly.
“I did the much same as a girl,” she confessed.