Page 41 of How to Start a Scandal

Violet nodded. ‘So I hear.’

‘What is your opinion on it?’

Violet gathered her thoughts and answered his question with slow, careful words. ‘I believe it to be helpful to the women who require such assistance.’

‘Interesting.’ Seth nodded to himself. ‘And you don’t find it at all appalling?’

She studied the rough striations of the elm’s bark and hoped he couldn’t detect the guilt clenching in her stomach. ‘She doesn’t debauch young ladies as I understand it. If such a thing does, in fact, exist. I believe she helps ladies become more attractive to men. They are still innocent. And isn’t that all that matters?’

She held her breath and waited for his response.

‘Yes, of course,’ he answered quickly. ‘When you put it that way, I suppose it is not so bad.’

And there it was, his agreement to the importance of innocence. A purity she no longer possessed. That she’d been so stupid to have given away with the first set of compliments to breeze in her direction.

She was doing it again now—falling for a man’s praises, giving in to clandestine kisses in a garden. Alone. Putting her reputation on the line after having just managed to salvage it after the first transgression.

Had she not learned her lesson already once before? Suddenly she felt foolish. A ridiculous girl who had endured a lifetime of inadequacy, willing to do anything to feel important. Wanted, needed, anything.

Violet turned to the town house. ‘Forgive me, but I must be going.’

‘Will you be at Lady Cotsworth’s ball tonight?’ he asked.

That night, Violet would be meeting with Lottie. It had been a hard decision to make. Lady Cotsworth was a known gossip and juicy titbits ran free as a stream through the ballroom of her home. But if Violet did not make time to meet with Lottie, she would never have enough information for her exposé.

Violet shook her head without offering an explanation, swiftly bid him good day and returned to the safe quiet of her home. Her heart slammed with deep resonating thumps that left her breastbone practically vibrating.

She should not meet with Seth again. She shouldn’t have danced with him and certainly should not have kissed him. Except that even as she thought these things, she lifted the curtain to view the garden behind the town house and felt a pang of disappointment to find it empty. He was gone, but the memory remained. Of his touch, his kiss, the press of his arousal against her. How desperately she wanted him.

Violet’s sigh fogged the glass. She would do well to stay away from Seth, for though he’d returned from war with stronger morals, he was far more dangerous now than he’d ever been before.

Chapter Twelve

Violet spent the remainder of the day alternating between a dreamy state of remembering Seth’s kiss and crippled by self-castigation.

After all, what would a man like him want with her? He was wealthy, titled, a war hero and beyond handsome. He could have his pick of any woman he wanted in the ton. Surely he was not interested in her beyond that kiss and what he thought he might be able to encourage from her.

How could he be?

She’d excused herself to her bedchamber the moment Felicity and her mother had returned, citing a vexing headache. She’d laid down to rest, but had been unable to do so, even when the warm weight of a furry grey cat plopped down beside her. And while she did not sleep, the feline was a quiet comfort.

Hours later, when the house had gone still and amid a heaviness of her own doubt, Violet slipped on her domino and mask and made her way to the luxurious town house in Bloomsbury. Lottie had assured her last time she would help Violet realise her own self-worth.

If ever there was a time Violet required as much, it was now.

Once she’d finally arrived, was liberated of her disguise and Lottie breezed through the double doors, Violet was beside herself with anxiety.

Lottie paused and regarded her, brows pinched with concern. ‘The gentleman who took notice of you?’ she asked by way of enquiry as to what had Violet looking so bereft.

Violet nodded miserably, afraid her voice might shake if she spoke.

Lottie sat on a plush maroon sofa and patted the seat next to her. ‘Come, dearest. Tell me what has you so upset.’

Violet sank next to her. ‘He kissed me.’

Lottie’s eyes snapped with a fire Violet never thought to see in such a kind face. ‘Did he take advantage?’

Violet pulled at a loose thread on a seam of her pink silk gown. ‘No, it was only a kiss.’ A heart-stopping, head-swimming, stomach-flipping kiss that went on for ever and yet was over far too soon.