Perhaps she shouldn’t think about what had just happened in the ballroom. Just as she’d tried not to think of the kiss that had occurred the night before. Of course, she’d failed miserably at the latter since she’d lain awake nearly all night reliving every sensation—every decadent taste and sound—of those moments.
Despite her sleepless night, she’d gone to the ballroom thinking she’d be able to keep thoughts of the kiss from intruding. She told herself it had been a one-time, reckless occurrence that was unlikely to be repeated.
How wrong she’d been. And she wasn’t the slightest bit mad about it.
Exhilarated. Confused. And utterly overwhelmed. But certainly not mad.
As soon as the servants left and she was alone again, she dropped her robe to the floor and lowered herself into the steaming, scented water. She would have loved to lean back against the slanted edge of the tub, close her eyes, and soak up a bit of the calming warmth. But she didn’t have the time.
Instead, she reached for the soap and quickly lathered it into a thick foam that she worked through her hair. While scrubbing her scalp, she wondered how on earth she’d manage to face Hale again after what she’d allowed. No—after what she’d practically demanded of him.
Heat burned in her cheeks.
Every effort she’d employed to maintain a proper level of authority over his position as Frederick’s bodyguard had been completely forgotten the moment he’d rolled her beneath him on the floor. The pleasure of it—the pure basic craving of body to body—had taken over. She’d acted on instinct. And everything in her had clamored for his touch, his kiss, his strength, and his possession.
She’d balked at the term surrender, but in retrospect, she couldn’t deny there had been an element of submission to what she’d experienced. Submission to her own desire, to his obvious and equal hunger, to the needs of the moment. With his mouth moving over her skin, there had been no way to deny or resist how wonderful and right it had felt.
A groan slid from her throat as she recalled the delicious way he moved between her legs, and she quickly dunked under the water to rinse her hair and her mind. When she came back up for air, her hair was free of suds but her thoughts remained in riotous turmoil.
Roughly squeezing the water from her hair before twisting it into a bun atop her head, she tried to tell herself what happened between her and Hale hadn’t been as alarming as she was making it out to be.
The attempt failed immediately.
Of course it was alarming! When she’d claimed it changed nothing, she’d been lying through her teeth. And he’d known it. The look on his face when he’d told her in that growly voice of his that they’d be finishing what they’d started had melted her to the core.
If what they’d done on that floor had been just the beginning, she sure as hell wanted more.
But how much more?
Katherine might have had a rather secluded country life before coming to London, but she wasn’t naïve or unaware of greater society’s rules and expectations regarding the more intimate acts that could occur between two people. Especially in regard to women. And even more so for a woman of her social standing where personal relationships were most often handled as transactions to improve the family’s wealth or influence. In such a world, a woman’s indiscretion could be ruinous and unforgivable. That the governance and consequences of sexual behavior should be so different for a man than for a woman was just one example of how men felt they could and should manage the female experience.
It was a ridiculous and antiquated notion. She was quite capable of deciding the course of her own life. And that included whether or not she take a lover. Or a husband for that matter. And who that person might be.
Having finished washing, she rose from the tub and began to dry herself with a large warmed towel. After crossing to her wardrobe, she chose a day gown in a lovely blue. As she dressed, she finally acknowledged what really had her insides all twisted up and fluttery.
It wasn’t society’s judgment or even her concern that what had occurred with Hale might interfere with his role as Frederick’s bodyguard. She had no doubt in his dedication to ensure her brother’s safety.
What truly worried her was the suspicion that her feelings for the man went well beyond the fierce heat of lust he inspired.
And she had no idea how to feel about that.
FREDERICK WAS ALREADY in the dining room when she arrived though she’d managed to ready herself and get downstairs a full five minutes before the appointed hour. She could tell immediately by the look on his face he was excited about something. It had been so long since she’d observed the light of inspiration and expectation in his dark eyes that she experienced an instant rush of wary hope.
“Good afternoon, Frederick,” she greeted warmly as she took a seat across the table from him.
“Hello, Kit. You look very nice today.” He gave an assessing tilt of his head. “Quite pretty, actually. Have you been outside?”
“Not today. Why?”
Her brother shrugged. “There’s just a heightened shade of pink in your cheeks and an unusual brightness in your eyes. Are you feeling ill?”
“Not at all.” Katherine glanced down as she smoothed a wrinkle from the tablecloth. “It must be the shade of my gown.”
“Maybe.” He sounded unconvinced.
Unsettled by the thought that her brother might be able to detect the very emotions she was struggling to understand, Katherine was grateful to have the moment interrupted by the timely arrival of their food.
Their conversation started out casually as Katherine asked how he’d been doing in his various self-directed studies and then inquired after Claire. Though she visited the girl every so often, she
