The more Claire’s head spun, the more she retreated to the comfort and safety found behind those walls she’d learned to erect all those years ago.

As if on instinct, her body fell into the role of dutiful daughter and sister. She allowed him to help her into the carriage and made a production out of arranging her skirts.

It was so much easier to fix her attention on the flow of her fabric rather than the inquisitive gaze coming from the opposite seat.

Inquisitive and heated, she noticed before quickly dropping her eyes to her hands which were clasped in her lap.

But even without seeing his eyes or that handsome face, she could feel his gaze and she shuddered involuntarily.

Or maybe that was a shiver. She was suddenly cold. So very cold. Which was odd since it was a warm spring night and she had been unbearably hot just moments ago.

She’d also been kissing a man just moments ago.

No, she could not think about that now, not while his gaze was upon her. Besides, she had more important things to think about. Like what had Jed been doing back there if not gambling? And did she really trust Galwin’s word on the matter?

She twisted her hands in her lap. “We should not leave him like this.”

Galwin’s brows drew down. “Your brother will be fine—”

“How do you know?” she interrupted. “What is he doing there if not gambling?”

His chest rose and fell with his exasperated sigh. Then he leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees and his gaze was level with hers. “As I have said before, I cannot tell you more. Jed must answer for his own actions.”

He stopped her with an upheld hand when she opened her mouth to protest further.

“But I promise you that your brother will be all right, and that his excursion this evening is not what you think.”

She pressed her lips together as she considered his words, as she considered him.

“You have my word of honor,” he said quietly. “Your brother will come to no harm this evening.”

Claire wavered. He seemed so certain, but then again Galwin always seemed sure of himself. But just because he assured her that Jed would not fall deeper into trouble did not mean she had to believe him.

Yet she did believe him. She trusted him, even. Inexplicably she’d found herself believing him to be honest, despite the fact that he was a notorious rake.

A rake, perhaps, but he’d never lost large sums at the gaming tables like her brother. And he’d never put his family’s wellbeing in jeopardy, as far as she knew.

But then, his family’s reputation was still recovering from the scandal surrounding his father all those years ago. She did not recall much about it as it had happened when she was a young child, but she had a general impression that his family suffered from whispers and rumors just as much as hers had. And in both cases it was thanks to their fathers. Though Galwin’s father had been proven innocent of the charges, whereas her father was a known philanderer and her siblings’ very existence served as living proof.

She peeked up at her brother’s friend from beneath her lashes. Galwin’s vices were well known. He flouted his excessive enjoyment of drinking, cards, women, and other debaucheries. But despite all that, she did not believe him to be a liar.

He was a rake, no more and no less.

He was a rake who had kissed her.

Her lips tingled at the memory and she resisted the urge to lift her hand and touch them, as if to ensure she had not been dreaming. Even now, mere minutes afterward, and she found herself wondering. Had that really happened? Had it really been as delicious as she’d imagined?

And then—so that was what all the fuss was about. Up until tonight her only kiss had been the one Lord Swattle had stolen that ill-fated night several months ago when she had been desperate for a suitor and he had been…well, just desperate, it seemed.

Normally the thought of his slimy lips pressed to hers was enough to make her ill, but tonight’s kiss seemed to have wiped away that odious image. Now when she thought of kisses she would think of tonight’s embrace—something so warm, so tender, so overwhelming in its intensity, it felt as if something straight out of a dream.

That, she concluded, was her first kiss.

She wasn’t sure what Lord Swattle’s awkward embrace could be categorized as, but it could not exist in the same realm as what had occurred tonight, let alone share the same definition.

“Claire.” Galwin’s low voice sent a bolt of heat through her core. She felt her cheeks warm. Good heavens, was she always going to have this sort of visceral reaction to Galwin now? Perhaps that was some sort of side effect that came from delicious kisses.

No wonder Mama and the other matrons of society so frowned upon it. A kiss like that could render a girl witless. It could addle her brain and make her believe that she felt more than she really did.

Galwin shifted, leaning forward so she had a better view of his face as the glow from streetlamps came and went in the carriage. “Claire, about tonight—”

Oh dear. He looked…worried. It was not an emotion she was accustomed to seeing on those roguish features and the sight alarmed her. A confident, arrogant, smug Galwin she knew well. This man was another matter altogether. His brows drew together as he peered at her through the flickering shadows. “About that kiss—”

Ah, so that was it. She felt her lips twitching with amusement at his obvious distress. Poor man. He probably believed that she would make a to-do out of that kiss. Perhaps he thought she now had feelings for him.

The thought was laughable.

She watched him for a moment longer, amused at his obvious struggle to figure out how best to handle this situation and it was easy to see why. She was his best friend’s sister, after all. And while she might not be a titled lady, she was now the sister-in-law to the Earl of Davenport. From the rumors she’d heard, she could easily assume that she was not the typical sort of woman he kissed in back alleys.

And she had no doubt that he’d kissed other women in back alleys, and often if his talents were anything to go by. Her breath hitched in her throat at the memory of his skillful hands moving over her with an assuredness that was both intimidating and exciting.

Intimidating only in the sense that it made her keenly aware of her own inexperience. Once again she was forced to face the fact that he most likely chose more experienced, worldly women to kiss and…well, do other things. It was no wonder his handsome features looked so strained. The poor man must be having a crisis of conscience. Heavens, watching him figure out how to handle this honorably was almost painful to watch.

She heard his long inhale, as though he were steadying himself for what was to come. “Claire, I am sorry for—”

“Please don’t.” She hadn’t meant to interrupt, but really—the thought of hearing him apologize for such an incredible moment was too difficult to bear. She knew it would not happen again, nor did she want it to.

No, that was a lie. She desperately wanted to experience that again, but she would not. Not with him, at least. It could not happen again, but she would not regret that it had happened. For now she knew what a proper kiss entailed.

She grinned as that newfound feeling of freedom swept over her, leaving her heady. She might not believe in love, but now she was a true believer in passion and physical compatibility. Perhaps now that she was not so desperate to marry the first eligible and wealthy suitor to come along, she could wait to find a man with whom she could share delicious kisses.

“What are you smiling about?” Galwin was watching her with a smile of his own, though his was tinged with confusion.

Poor, foolish rake. She must have given him quite the shock tonight. She’d acted in such haste and with such little thought for the consequences, it almost felt like it had been an evening out of time. Like perhaps it had happened to someone else or perhaps she’d read about it in a novel.

Claire Cleveland surely hadn’t dashed out of a ball on her own to chase her brother to a gaming hell in a seedy neighborhood late at night.

It just wasn’t done. She heard her mother’s chastening voice in her mind and clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh. Even now that her mother was gone, she could still hear the lessons that had been drilled into her from the earliest age.

Her gaze met Galwin’s and she noted his confusion and his wariness. He was looking at her like he feared she’d lost her senses.

Maybe she had. The thought brought with it another nervous laugh which she swallowed down as she took a long, deep inhale. Goodness, she needed to gain control. One night of newfound freedom and she hardly recognized herself.

A moment later they turned onto Davenport’s street and she no longer felt any inclination to laugh. The sound of the ball could be heard well before the carriage pulled up to the townhouse and with the noise of music and laughter came a healthy dose of reality.

Her hands fluttered to her chest as if she could physically stop her heart from galloping off without her. Once she left this carriage, she would be back to her normal life. Back in society with its judgmental eyes. She would have to walk back into that party and hope that no one had noticed her disappearance, or that she’d returned in a carriage with Galwin—and without a chaperone.

Oh mercy, what had she done?

She pressed her back against the seat behind her to avoid being seen through the carriage window. But she could not stay here all night. At some point she would have to summon her courage and enter the ball once more. Perhaps she could feign illness or—

“Driver,” Galwin called, rudely interrupting her scheming. “Continue around the corner, please. We will get out there.”

“Around the corner?” she asked.

His smile was calm. Reassuring, even. And yes, a little smug. But she would settle for his smirks and his condescension if it meant he had a plan.

“We will slip back into the party through the garden,” he said. “If anyone asks we’ll say that you slipped out for some fresh air as the heat from the crowd made you feel ill.”

“And you?” she asked.

“I saw you leave and was worried after your health.”

She nodded. It would do—it would have to. She didn’t have a better plan, to be sure.

She watched him look both ways after he exited the carriage and once he ascertained that there were no witnesses, he helped her out.

His hand on her arm felt commonplace after such an intimate embrace. For half a second she thought about leaning against him, feeling that warmth once more before returning to her normal world.

But that was silliness. The moment had come and gone, as well it should have. It was a fleeting moment of lunacy on both their parts. Pleasant, perhaps, and a memory that she would secretly cherish. But it could not be repeated, not without paying the consequences, and that was something she couldn’t bear to think about.

It was impossible not to think about it, however, as she let Galwin lead her through a back gate that opened to Davenport’s private property. Her hasty actions tonight had not only been rash, they had been reckless.

What if someone saw her leave? What if someone caught them out here alone together?

Her heart leapt into her throat as the enormity of her foolishness struck her. She had allowed that giddy new feeling of freedom to get out of hand. She’d gone too far.

She stopped short next to Galwin as they found themselves in the midst of a thicket of trees and some overgrown weeds, the estate just out of sight.

His hand came to her arm, holding her steady. “Are you all right?” he murmured near her ear.

She shivered, but not merely from the effects of his closeness, which was no less powerful here in the thicket as it was in the alley. But the shiver was also a tremble of dread at what she would be confronted with when they entered the party.

She might have thrown away a lifetime of good deeds and perfect temperament for one act of folly. By dashing out of here and running off on her own she had put her reputation on the line.

And then there was that kiss. She bit her lip at the memory. Though hopefully no one had seen, she had still been far too reckless. Yes, it was lovely that she was no longer desperately in need of a husband. Perhaps that did afford her a bit more freedom and maybe she could ease the reins of propriety she’d learned to clutch so tightly.

But what she’d done tonight…

She took a deep breath as her mind caught up with her former actions. There was a difference between not being perfect and being ruined, and tonight she had come dangerously close to crossing it.

She peered into the trees in the direction where music was playing. There was every chance she’d already been ruined and she just didn’t know it yet. She took a deep breath, oddly grateful for Galwin’s firm, steadying grip on her arm as he moved them toward the sounds.

They stumbled a bit and she instinctively reached out to clutch his arm as she lost her footing. She found herself pressing a hand to his chest and pulled it away quickly as if burnt.

The touch had felt far too intimate in this dark, secluded little world they’d entered. Anne had given her a tour of these gardens but that had been once and in daylight—hardly useful now. Together they stumbled their way through the brush until the music sounded clearer and voices reached them, clear as day.

Claire froze, half hidden behind a tree and completely scared into inaction. There were people out here on the terrace. Guests mingled as servants walked by with trays of refreshments.

She turned back, pressing her back to a tree trunk, finding herself face to face with Galwin.

“Everything all right?” he asked, his smile smug and his voice laced with amusement.

Annoyance helped to squelch some of her fear. Now was not the time for his ironic amusement or lazy charm. Their lives were on the line. Well, her life at least. If someone saw her coming in from the thicket of trees, she’d be ruined. And if they saw Galwin with her…

She shuddered to think of the consequences.

His gaze focused on her, moving over her face from her pinched lips to her wide eyes. “Claire, are you well?”

She shook her head. “No,” she hissed. “Of course I am not well.” She jerked her head toward the group of mingling guests nearby. “What if they spot us?”

His gaze was inscrutable and then he shrugged. “Then I suppose we shall marry.”

Her gasp was so loud she slapped a hand over her mouth to smother it. He was teasing, surely. But…

His eyes met hers. He didn’t look as though he was in jest. He looked frighteningly serious.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said.

He arched his brows. “My dear, if you and I are discovered alone together…” He looked around pointedly at their dark and secluded surroundings. “Can you think of another alternative?”

She gaped at him. He was right, of course. Though, she hadn’t expected him to admit as much. Truth be told, she would not have expected him to do the honorable thing, and she was not entirely certain she wanted him to.

He frowned at her and his tone was droll as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Really, Claire. You do not have to look so shocked, nor so horrified by the thought of marrying me.”

She blinked, not at all certain how to respond to that without being intentionally hurtful. She was in no great rush to marry anyone at all, but Galwin?

Out of the question.

He seemed to be reading her thoughts, because he let out a long sigh. “We can discuss this later, if there is a need.”

If there is a need. That gave her hope. If they could rejoin the party without being discovered, her fears could all be in vain.

He glanced over her shoulder toward the estate. “Just walk toward the crowd with confidence and ease,” he said softly. “I will be by your side, and we have nothing to feel guilty about.”

His gaze met hers and the look there was as serious as she’d ever seen it. But of course. He must be just as terrified at the idea of being caught as she was, if not more so. Neither of them wanted to be trapped in a marriage with one another.

“Remember,” he said quietly as he turned her gently to once more face the fray. “You were overcome by the heat and needed some fresh air.”

She shivered at the feel of his warm breath against her neck. Her body instantly turned molten at the touch of his hands on her arms. At least she would look the part, flushed and overheated.

“I came to your rescue,” he murmured as he gave her a nudge and led her quickly and quietly out of the brush and toward the crowd. “And now I am escorting you back inside where your family and friends will see that you are safe and well.”

She focused on his voice, forcing a small smile out of habit as she kept her head bent down.

For once, her adeptness at playing the role of a young, simpering miss was a useful skill. No one seemed to notice them passing, or at least she hoped they noticed nothing amiss.

When at last they reached the French doors leading to the ballroom, she let out a long sigh of relief.

“There,” he said close to her ear. “We managed to make it this far. Just a little further.”

His voice was oddly reassuring and his touch uncharacteristically comforting. Until, that was, someone noticed that she’d been gone.

“There you are!” Lord Swattle shouted, causing everyone near them to turn and stare. His glare was disturbingly patronizing as though he was her father and she a disobedient child.

Was it her imagination or did his gaze move past her to the garden where they’d just entered?

No, surely she was being fanciful. Still, she froze beside Galwin, just inside the entryway, unable to move as fear made her muscles turn to jelly.

Swattle crossed over to them, seemingly ignoring Galwin altogether as he reached for her gloved hand and bent over it. When he straightened his gaze had turned sickeningly fawning, though his eyes held a glimmer of something dark. “I have been looking all over for you. Where have you been?”

She parted her lips, ready to use the excuse that Galwin had provided, but found herself drawing a blank.

No, that wasn’t quite right. She did not forget what she meant to say—it was more that she found herself unwilling to say it.

Out of nowhere, that ridiculous feeling of wicked rebellion rose up in her and she found herself repulsed at the idea of having to explain her whereabouts to this man.

To her friends and family, fine. But to this odious man who had no claim on her?

She snapped her mouth shut instead.

Swattle blinked at her. “Well?” he asked.

The little rebellion came and went so quickly it left her weak. What was she doing? The last thing she wanted was to arouse suspicion. There was a time for being stubborn and a time to acquiesce.

The time to rebel was not when marriage to Galwin was on the line.

“I felt rather ill,” she said weakly. “I went outside for some air.”

The old baron’s gaze flickered with doubt as he glanced from her to Galwin, who hovered behind her. He gave Galwin a short nod. “I can take it from here, Lord Nicholas.”

Her stomach sank. Don’t go, she wanted to plead. But instead she simpered for Swattle’s sake and waited for Galwin to walk away and leave her to her fate.

“Actually, Lord Swattle, Miss Cleveland has promised me the pleasure of a dance now that she is feeling better.”

Swattle stiffened, his eyes flashing dangerously in a way that made her insides tremble. She had always been afraid of this man, even when she was hoping he would court her. He hadn’t. Not officially, at least. Aside from that stolen kiss and the leering looks, he had made no effort to properly court her. He hadn’t shown much serious interest in her at all, really, not until recently.

Ever since Anne married the earl, she seemed to have risen in his estimation, and between her new titled connections and her improved dowry, it was not difficult to understand why.

But now she had no need of him and the stability a marriage to him would provide. Lord, but that realization felt amazing. A warm rush of relief that she did not need to simper for this man one moment longer.

His eyes narrowed as they met hers. “I do hope you will save me a dance later this evening, if you feel up to it, Miss Cleveland.”

She didn’t even try to match his ingratiating smile. “My apologies, my lord, but I am afraid my dance card is quite full.”

He gaped at her, his eyes flashing with rage. But he couldn’t hurt her…not anymore. With that thought she allowed herself a smile—but this one was triumphant. His nostrils flared and that original fear returned.

What was she doing? She plastered an ingratiating look on her face and dropped her eyes. She should not be taunting him. The man might be revolting, but he was dangerous.

She’d always known that about him.

Fear made her move slightly closer to Galwin and she was comforted slightly when he grasped her elbow and led her away from the older man, making their excuses.

They had done it. Her limbs felt weak with relief as the rush of adrenaline began to fade after her evening’s adventure. She felt a swell of gratitude for the man beside her leading her to the dance floor. Without him, who knew where this night might have ended?

“Thank you,” she sighed.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “I may be a terrible dancer.”