Page 61 of The Duchess’ Second Chance

She deepened the kiss, and he responded in kind, and although Amanda felt sure she must be dreaming, she was also powerfully, wonderfully aware that she was not, and that all of this was utterly real.

And then, all at once, he pulled away, leaving her cold.

CHAPTER 30

Amanda stood staring up at Sampson, struggling to catch her breath and unsure of what to say or how to respond. The kiss had ended as quickly as it had begun, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had she done something wrong? Was he angry? She hated to think it—surely he wouldn’t be angry at her for something he had initiated—but then, she wasn’t sure where all that had come from in the first place. Maybe she’d done something he hadn’t liked, something to provoke this kiss.

Then again, perhaps I’m just terrible at kissing, and that’s what the problem is. That was a dismal thought. She looked down at her feet, doing her best to calm her nerves. She didn’t want to believe that was the problem. Don’t borrow trouble. Perhaps it’s something else.

“You should get back to Rose,” he said gruffly. “We shouldn’t have done this. None of this should have happened.”

“I…I’m sorry,” she managed. “Did I do something to offend you, Sampson?”

“We’re not going to speak of this now,” he said firmly. “It isn’t a good idea, Amanda. Rose is waiting for you.”

She wanted to tell him that this wasn’t acceptable—he couldn’t just kiss her and then run off like this, without so much as a conversation. Under another set of circumstances, she might have done just that. But she felt at a loss for words at the moment, incapable of saying anything at all to him. And when he turned and hurried away down the hall, even though she did want him to come back and have an honest conversation with her, she couldn’t bring herself to say a word.

And then the moment had passed. Amanda stood alone in the hall, staring after Sampson, her fingers pressed to her lips as she fought to make sense of what had just happened to her.

He kissed me.

What does that mean?

I know what it meant for me. I know how I’ve felt, walking around this house, wishing that what’s between us could be something more than what it is. Daydreaming that my husband might love me. I didn’t think that had anything to do with him personally, but now that I’ve felt what it’s like to be so close to him, I can’t deny that I want more of it. I want to feel it again.

But that seemed unlikely to happen, given the way he had just run off with little more than a word, as if he had nothing at all to say to her.

He’s going to want to forget this ever happened.

A terrible thought occurred to her.

She had told him that she’d never experienced a wedding night with George. There had never been anything much between the two of them. What if Sampson had kissed her because he’d thought her deprived in some way? What if he had believed her frustration with him for not telling the truth had been a reaction to never experiencing this kind of thing? Physical intimacy with a man? He might have done it just to try to make up for what he knew she hadn’t experienced—again, as an act of pity.

And then he pulled back, because he recalled I didn’t want his pity, or simply because he was able to realize for himself what a bad idea it would be to do something like that for such a reason.

Either way, the thought made far too much sense for her to ignore, and it felt awful. It twisted like snakes in the pit of her stomach. It was too painful for her to stand out here and think about it any longer.

She turned and went back in to Rose, pulling the door closed behind her.

Rose was no longer reading the book. She had clearly been watching the door, waiting for Amanda to return, and at the sight of her, the girl’s eyes narrowed. “You were out there for quite a while,” she said. “What were the two of you talking about?”

“Grown up matters,” Amanda said firmly. Or rather, she tried to say it firmly, but her voice betrayed her. It trembled fiercely. She was afraid she might just burst into tears.

Rose jumped to her feet. “He was cruel to you!”

“No, he wasn’t,” Amanda said quickly. “Sit down, Rose.” She needed to hold herself together for the child’s sake. “He wasn’t cruel at all.”

“I don’t think I believe you.” Rose’s eyes narrowed. “I never trusted that man. I said all along that he would turn into a monster. And now look. He’s made you cry!”

“He didn’t,” Amanda whispered, but it was hopeless. He had made her cry. Of course, he had. And Rose might have been a child, but she was no fool. She could see the expression on Amanda’s face. She could tell how affected Amanda was by everything that had just happened, even if she didn’t know what had caused it.

Rose took her by the hand and led her over to the window seat, but no matter how she implored, Amanda refused to tell her what had just happened. It wasn’t the kind of thing a child needed to know about, or to worry herself over.

And it isn’t going to matter anyway. I’ll speak to Sampson tomorrow and sort things out. Honestly, he’s right—we probably shouldn’t have done what we did. It wasn’t a wise idea. I wouldn’t want to do it again.

She began to calm down. Her breathing returned to normal. Those were good thoughts. They were helping. She just had to keep telling herself those things.

Maybe one day, they would even start to feel like the truth.