Page 56 of If the Duke Demands

A tear fell down her cheek. No, she wasn’t. She was a long way from innocent in all this. That wasn’t what he meant, of course, but the riot of emotions roiling inside her made it impossible to think straight.

He turned to toss the cloth out the window. “I didn’t plan for—Christ.”

“What is it?” She scrambled to sit up and follow his gaze out the window. She gasped. “We’re on Audley Street!”

He grimaced, yanking her skirt down around her legs. “Straighten your dress.Now.”

She slid off his lap to the bench across from him, her fingers shaking so badly she could barely lace up her stays while he buttoned his trousers. Mortification poured through her. Oh God, what had they done? Her first season, her first trip to London, and she would be completely ruined if anyone saw her like this, simply because of her foolish pride and anger. And because of her growing attraction for a man she had no business desiring.

“Let me help.” He turned her in the seat to quickly fasten up her dress.

She slipped the last sleeve cap back into place as the carriage came to a stop. Seconds later, the tiger flung the door open wide.

She rushed from the carriage without waiting for Sebastian to escort her inside, moving so quickly that she nearly tripped on the front steps as she ran to the door. In her humiliated desperation to flee, she didn’t care how ungraceful she looked, nor did she dare glance back to see if he had even gotten out of the carriage to watch her leave. Because she couldn’t have borne it if he hadn’t.

Thankfully, the butler was already at the front door and holding it open, and she hurried inside, then straight through the front foyer and up the stairs. She shook so badly that she wasn’t certain how she was able to put one foot in front of the other, all of her in shocked confusion at her actions tonight. She needed to reach the safety of her room before she broke down in tears. Or in anger at herself. The confusion swirled through her so hard and fast that she didn’t know which—

“Miranda?”

Oh no.The verylastperson she wanted to face at that moment…She stopped at the sound of the soft voice behind her and bit back the urge to cry as she forced a smile onto her face and turned to face Sebastian’s sister.

Josephine Carlisle Matteson, Marchioness of Chesney, leaned against the doorway of her sitting room in her dressing gown, with her dark hair already brushed out and hanging loose around her shoulders. A book rested in her hand, and a smile lit her face. She looked comfortable and completely at ease after spending the evening at home with her children.

“You’ve returned early.” Puzzled, she glanced past Miranda at the stairs. “Did the others come with you?”

“They’re still at Vauxhall,” she answered, praying Josie couldn’t see the slight tilt to her coiffure or the sagging in her bodice because she hadn’t had time to lace up her stays as tightly as she should have. Or the red color of her kiss-bruised lips. Or the wrinkles in her skirt— Oh heavens, she wanted to die! “Sebastian escorted me home. I…” She forced out the lie, hating herself for lying to the woman who had always been like a sister to her, “I had a headache.”

Josie frowned at her with concern. “Are you ill?” She reached for her hand in worry. “Should I call for Dr. Brandon?”

“Please don’t.” Her chest sank like lead, because now she could add the guilt of lying to her oldest friend to the guilt of tonight’s carriage ride. She forced a smile. “I’m feeling better already.”

“Good.” Josie squeezed her hand and released it. “It’s probably just all the noise and excitement of the gardens. It can be overwhelming.”

Thatlesson she’d learned better than anyone. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you come in and have a cup of chocolate with me?”

Not letting her refuse, Josie linked her arm with Miranda’s and led her into her sitting room. Miranda bit back a groan of exasperation. What a cake she was! She couldn’t even flee like a coward to her room successfully.

“Higgins just brought up the tray, so it’s still warm. Chocolate always helps me to fall asleep.” Josie sat on the edge of the settee and poured two cups of hot chocolate from the porcelain pot, then held one up for Miranda. “Maybe it will help your headache.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, truly touched by Josie’s kindness. And thoroughly mortified by what she’d done tonight with her brother. She’d gotten caught up in the moment, in the way he made her feel so beautiful and wanted and in her own confused feelings for him. She’d stopped all logical thought and simply let herself be swept away.

Josie motioned toward the chair across from her. As Miranda sank down onto it, fresh tears blurred her eyes at what she’d done tonight, and she blinked them away, grateful that she could blame them on her headache, if necessary. She accepted the cup of chocolate but fidgeted nervously with it, having no taste for it.

With concern creasing her brow, Josie settled back against the cushions and asked gently, “Something happened tonight in the gardens, didn’t it? Something that caused your headache.” She paused knowingly. “Or someone.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped up to hers even as her stomach fell away through the floor. “I don’t—” She swallowed. Hard. But the knot of confused emotions stayed stuck in her throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your face is flushed, and your dress is mussed.” Josie gave a gentle, understanding smile. “We’re all alone tonight, so we can talk in private if you want to share what happened.”

Fresh guilt stabbed through her that she had to dissemble with Josie when the marchioness was being so kind to her. She should have been thrilled that Josie wanted her to confide her secrets, just as they had as girls at Chestnut Hill. But she simply couldn’t. Instead she said nothing and raised the cup to her lips to hide any traces of the confusion and remorse she felt over Sebastian.

Josie continued, “Thomas is at Strathmore House with the colonel and Kate, and Mother won’t be back until after the fireworks. They’re her favorite part of Vauxhall. So you can tell me…” Josie leaned forward, with eager expectation shining in her eyes as she asked secretively, “Was it that nice Mr. Downing?”

Miranda blinked, her mind blanking. “Mr. Downing?” Then she caught her breath. Oh, good heavens! She’d completely forgotten that Charles sent his regrets at the last minute. And how terrible was she that she hadn’t missed the man at all? “I had a headache, truly,” she insisted, still dissembling. Although, from the ache blossoming behind her eyes, it would soon prove true.

Josie’s smile curled higher with disbelief. “If you don’t deny it, I’m going to assume you got caught up in the romance of the gardens.” Her eyes shined as she sipped at her cup. “It’s been known to happen.”