Page 21 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

And now? She must think of a wedding.

Candace placed a calming hand on her shoulder. Sara looked up with worry.

Nora’s betrothal to Ralston had completely upended her well-plotted plans. He’d promised to support her work. But how long would that last in the face of Society’s expectations?

Either way, there was a ripple in her timeline—a large gaping hole—and she would have to pivot, rechart and essentially start from scratch. Her summer and fall would be busy moving to the Earl’s estate, learning how to run a large home full of servants, and most difficult of all, becoming a countess.

Would all her dreams come crashing down?

Chapter Seven

That night, the ladies gathered in the drawing room while the men smoked cigars and drank whisky in the library. Excusing herself from the retiring room, Nora sought a breath of fresh air on the terrace.

Slipping outside, Nora deeply inhaled the night air. It was a beautiful evening with a crescent moon and the cool breeze felt wonderful on her heated cheeks. She needed more time to herself to think of her future, and the terrace was the perfect respite.

‘There you are, Miss Magarian.’

Nora’s stomach dropped as she turned to see Sir Simon step onto the terrace. Her solace was not to last long.

Swallowing her disappointment, she stood straight as he joined her at the railing. ‘Sir Simon.’

‘Good evening. I’ve been hoping to speak privately with you.’

She blinked. ‘Why?’ She hadn’t spoken to him since the fiasco of that night. Rather, she’d avoided Sir Simon like one did a bad meal.

‘You never came to me as promised.’

She shifted uneasily. She knew what he meant. She was supposed to go to his bedchamber that fateful night, was supposed to be found by her maid and mother in his bed. Instead, her future had taken a different turn.

She met Simon’s bold stare. ‘It was a confusing evening.’

‘Ah, yes. Ralston was fortunate to receive your affections rather than myself.’

Goodness. What was she to say to that? Her purpose was to escape a betrothal to a much older baron back in London, not to spend a lustful evening with Sir Simon.

Unaware of her thoughts, Sir Simon stepped forward and brushed her hand on the railing. ‘Dearest lady, it doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. We are free to continue where we left off.’

She pulled her hand back and fully faced him. She should be alarmed. She wasn’t. Men like Sir Simon needed to be put in their place and she had an abundant need to do so at that moment.

‘You misunderstand,’ she said. ‘Things have changed. I’m now betrothed to the Lord Ralston.’ Sir Simon’s cologne wafted to her, a cloying scent of cloves.

His smile deepened and he shrugged his shoulder. ‘I’ve never been one to focus on the past. Only the present.’

If his reputation was true, then she believed what he said. Sir Simon’s list of conquests was long. It was the main reason she’d chosen him in the first place. He’d never wish to marry. Neither had she. Then why did she now want to escape his presence as fast as possible?

He shifted at her side. ‘You are lovely, Miss Magarian. I’ve always had a fondness for auburn hair.’

‘Like I said, I am engaged. I must return to the drawing room. My mother will be looking for me.’

‘Before you depart, how about a kiss?’

Her right hand fisted at her side with the urge to give him a solid wallop. She shook her head instead. ‘That would be inappropriate.’

His lips twitched. ‘Then I shall take whatever affection you can spare.’ He lifted her left gloved hand and brushed his lips against the satin.

She felt nothing but the pressure of his touch. No tingling. No catch of breath. Not even a quiver. Completely unlike when Ralston sat beside her on a sandy beach, touched her hand, kissed her…

The thought confused her more.