Gail Whitiker - Revenge In Regency Society

The breeze came up and, once again, Anna felt chilled. She hadn’t stopped to fetch her wrap before venturing outside, but neither was she about to run back into the drawing room now.

Observant eyes would see the evidence of her tears, recognise the flush in her cheeks and put their own interpretation on the events—and nothing on earth was going to persuade her to tell anyone what had really happened.

She glanced back over her shoulder, wondering if Barrington had followed her. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when she saw that he hadn’t. All right, so she’d made a mistake. It wasn’t the first time she’d done so, but at least this time she was old enough to recognise it for herself. Barrington had made his feelings for her clear. The episode would not be repeated. From now on, she would treat him exactly the same way he treated everyone else. Coolly. Professionally. Without emotion. He would never make her cry again.

It was a good ten minutes before Anna felt calm enough to venture back into the house. Not by the drawing room through which she’d left. That would be far too embarrassing, especially knowing that Barrington had gone back in only a short time ago. Instead, she walked to the end of the balcony and, finding another set of glass doors, tried the handle. Thankfully, it was unlocked and pushing it open, she walked into a small study—only to stop and gasp in shock.

Her brother and Julia’s maid were standing by the door, locked together in a passionate embrace. ‘Edward!’

At once, the pair sprang apart, but it was too late to disguise what they had been doing. The maid’s dark hair had come down around her shoulders, her gown was in disarray and her lips were red and swollen.

Embarrassed, Anna looked away. Obviously, her brother wasn’t above seducing pretty housemaids, whether they be his own or someone else’s. Refusing to meet his eyes, she murmured, ‘Excuse me’, and then immediately made her way to the door. Edward said nothing, but she heard his mocking laughter following her through the door. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her brother had once again proven himself the immoral creature she believed him to be.

And what about you? the little voice nagged. Are you so much better? So much more virtuous?

Anna felt her face burn with humiliation. No, perhaps she wasn’t. She kept remembering the passionate encounter she’d just shared with Barrington, the shameless manner in which she had allowed him to kiss her. Oh, yes, she’d let him kiss her. She wasn’t about to lay the blame for what had happened entirely at his door. He was gentleman enough that if she had asked him to stop, he would have—but she hadn’t done that. She’d wanted to know how it would feel to kiss him. To watch his head bend slowly towards her, and to feel his mouth close intimately over hers.

It had been everything she’d expected—and more.

But Barrington was no more likely to become her husband than Julia’s maid was to become Edward’s wife. They had both been indulging in impossible fantasies.

‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone …’

A sobering thought. As Anna made her way back to the drawing room, she realised that the proverbial stone would never find its way to her hand.

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