The Inconvenient Duchess

leech the strength from her body as his eyes gazed down into hers. And then, instead of holding her, they were drawing her closer and his head was dipping down and his lips met hers.
    The kiss was sweet, and all the more seductive because she knew it was wrong. Cici had said that the good churchgoing people who worried so about temptation didn’t know the real danger: they didn’t understand the joy in falling.
    There was a strange liquid sensation running through her body, as though her blood had been replaced with honey. And she could feel by the way he was rubbing his tongue against her closed mouth, that he meant for her to open her lips and the good Miranda cautioned that this would be disaster, but the wicked girl told her that the damage was done and the only danger now was discovery. And she opened her mouth to him and let him take it, and it was good.
    And the honeyed feeling had reached her stomach, and her body cried that it wanted to be closer still.
    He felt the change. And suddenly his hands were roaming freely over her body, and his mouth was hard and demanding on hers, not sweet and coaxing, and she struggled against him.
    And she pulled her arm back as far as she could and brought it forward fast and struck him in the head.
    Years of hauling water and scrubbing floors had put muscle in her arm that embroidery and harpsichord playing never could. She noted with satisfaction that the blow had been hard enough to leave him dazed when he let go of her and leaned against the wall.
    When his eyes rose to meet hers, they were dark and calculating, not full of love.
    And she ran. She raced like a mad woman down the corridor into her room where she slammed the door behind her and turned the key in the lock.
    And then she heard footsteps in the hall pausing outside her door. The knob turned, one way and then the other.
    Let me go , she pleaded silently.
    ‘Miranda. Let me in,’ he was whispering at the keyhole and his quiet voice echoed through her room like a shout. ‘Sweeting, open the door to me.’
    She mouthed the word, No. And wrapped her arms around her as she sat upon the bed.
    ‘You know you want to.’
    She didn’t know what she wanted. Not any more. She wanted to be home. She wanted somewhere to be home.
    ‘Miranda.’ He sang the name. ‘Does my brother know how sweet your lips are?’
    She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
    ‘I’ll wager not, for that was a mouth that had never known kisses. Do you think I should tell him?’
    ‘No,’ she said the word aloud this time and cursed herself for responding.
    ‘Then it is a good thing that he abandoned you to me, for what he doesn’t know will not trouble him. Open the door, Miranda, and let us finish what we started.’
    ‘Go away.’
    ‘You are too late to send me away. It is unfair of you to tempt me so and then deny me what you were freely offering before.’
    ‘I did not tempt you, you snake.’
    ‘But I’m not a serpent, darling, and this is certainly no Eden. Can it be so wrong for two people to huddle together for warmth when freezing in a tomb such as this?’
    ‘Yes. And if you do not know why, then you should leave this house immediately.’
    ‘I’ll come and go here in my own good time, your Grace, just as I always have. Unless you want to explain to my brother why you feel I must go. He will not take it well.’
    ‘Then you must stay away from me, and I plan to keep as far away from you as possible.’
    His voice was soft, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. ‘At first, perhaps. But soon you will see, my darling, that he does not want you the way that I do. And when you lie in bed at night unfulfilled, longing for the touch of a warm hand, you will find that my door will always be unlocked for you.’ And he laughed. And she heard his light footsteps retreating down the hall.
    She ran to her own door and checked it again, to find it still locked fast. She sank to the ground in front of it.
    It was true, then. Just as she’d always feared. There was something wrong with her, that she could succumb so easily when temptation presented itself. She loved her father andshe loved Cici. But living with them had not taught her the skills she needed to survive as a lady. They had not taught her circumspection or restraint. They certainly had not taught her chastity. Instead, Cici had taught her the truth of what happened between a man and a woman, and she’d listened to the stories eagerly. And remembered.