This wasn’t right at all. Claire toyed with her fan, barely listening to Georgie prattle on about the gowns and the music. How could she concentrate when her mind and body were in such turmoil?

She’d only half listened as Galwin greeted her sister and bid his farewells. She’d been too busy trying to figure out what else she ought to say. The way they’d left things felt unfinished. She felt unsettled. Incomplete, even. As though she should have said something she did not, or perhaps done something…but what? All eyes had been focused on them. She’d been aware the entire time they’d danced of the prying eyes and the listening ears.

Well, not all of the time. Every so often he’d said something that had jolted her out of the moment, making her temporarily forget where they were and why.

“Claire.” Georgie’s voice interrupted her runaway thoughts, bringing her back to the moment once more. Her sister was watching her with concern. “Do you feel well? You look as though—”

“Fine. Fine,” she said, waving away her sister’s concern. “Just a bit overheated, that is all.”

Her sister’s pretty lips pursed with worry. “Perhaps we ought to step outside for some air. Would you like to take a turn in the gardens?”

Claire shook her head quickly. Heavens, anywhere but the gardens. She might not know much about covering her tracks but she knew well enough not to return to the scene of the crime. And sneaking back in to the ball with only a known rake as her companion? That was certainly the ton’s notion of a crime.

“I’m fine now,” she said again to Georgie. “I promise.”

Georgie hesitated for a moment before launching back into her gossip where she had left off. Something about her rival Mary Beaucraft’s jealousy over Anne’s good fortune. It seemed even that sourpuss Mary had been forced to admit that Anne’s ball was a rousing success.

Claire ignored her sister once more. Yes, yes. The ball was a success. They’d agreed as much hours earlier. Before she’d taken her reputation in hand and nearly destroyed it. Before she’d shocked the life out of herself by not only following her brother and Galwin, but by kissing him. She pressed her lips together at the memory of his lips crushing down on hers.

Or allowing him to kiss her, at the very least. Perhaps she had not instigated the kiss but she had done nothing to stop it. She nibbled on her lower lip as she remembered just how avidly she had participated.

Very well, perhaps she was equally at fault. Though she had a difficult time summoning up any sort of guilt over her part in the mistake.

And it had been a mistake, she reminded herself.

A beautiful, perfect, life-changing mistake.

It was also a mistake that could not be repeated. She told herself this sternly, her inner voice sounding remarkably like their former governess.

Why not?

That was the new voice talking, the one that had declared tonight a fresh start for Claire Cleveland. That was the voice that had also said ‘why not?’ to the thought of chasing after her brother in the dirty streets of London. It had been the voice that had squelched all protests when Galwin’s lips had met hers.

It was a dangerous voice, made all the more so since it had been caged away for all these years. She had never had much of a rebellious streak. She had never gone through those phases she had watched her siblings go through where they pushed the boundaries and defied the rules. Never. Not once.

Until tonight.

Perhaps she was a late bloomer, after all. She stifled a laugh at the thought. That was another phrase of her mother’s, the one she’d used when she would marvel at how well her eldest daughter had turned out despite those gangly, awkward years around ages ten and eleven.

Thank goodness you outgrew those hideous freckles, she’d say in front of Anne and Georgie, who both had freckles, though hideous they were not.

Claire had always hated moments like that. Those times when her mother made it abominably clear that Claire was her favorite and the rest were either tolerated, like Georgie, or ignored entirely, like Anne.

There were seven Cleveland siblings, and only four of them legitimate. Not that it was common knowledge or confirmed fact in any way. Their mother had taken in her philandering husband’s offspring and raised them as her own, ostensibly. Outside the house it would seem as though they were all treated equally.

Inside their home was another matter entirely.

Their whole lives all seven siblings had heard the whispers and the rumors. It was the worst for Anne and Collin. Two of the youngest, they also shared the fiery red hair of the notorious stage actress who’d been their father’s mistress.

It was difficult to dispute their illegitimacy when their hair acted as a beacon to betray them.

She and Jed were the least affected by the scandal, as they shared their mother’s fair looks and their births occurred prior to their father’s known philandering. That was why it had fallen on Claire to keep her reputation spotless—she’d been the bright, shining hope of marrying into a reputable family.

And then, as her brother squandered their money, to marry into a reputable and wealthy family.

She followed her sister’s gaze, murmuring what she hoped was appropriate remarks to her sister’s chatter as they perused the crowd.

Now she was free from all expectations and hopes but that did not mean she needed to rush out and create a scandal. Again, the voice in her mind had the scolding tone of their governess.

And rightly so. Clearly she needed some chastising if tonight’s actions were anything to go by.

Tonight would be the exception. Nothing like this could happen again, not if she intended to marry well and have a family of her own. Her eyes scanned the crowd, her mind wandering to Galwin’s remarks about love.

He’d shocked her to her core with his statement that he believed in love, nearly as much as he’d stunned her with his other statement.

I should have married you.

She’d felt as though he’d struck her upside the head with that one. What an absurd comment to make, and entirely inappropriate.

It had made her mind go off on a tangent, summoning up images of a life that might have been. What if Galwin had stepped in when their family was at its worst? What if he had offered for her hand to save them from ruin?

Would she have said yes?

Of course, she would not have had a choice. He was a younger son so he was likely not outrageously wealthy, but he came from money and his father had a title. He would have been a solid choice.

A welcome choice compared to Swattle or Davenport.

But then… Her gaze fell upon her little sister as she danced with her husband, smiling up at the heretofore “Devil” of Davenport as if the sun rose and set with his smiles. And he was no better, returning that swooning smile with one just as dazzling. His gaze said clearly that she was the center of his universe.

They were in love.

She tried her best not to roll her eyes at the thought. She was happy for her sister, and she was certain that what Anne shared with the earl was a solid friendship, based on respect and admiration. She’d been around the two of them often enough to see that.

And that was what it was all about. Love was a fickle, fleeting feeling that had more to do with lust than anything else. But respect and friendship? Those were admirable qualities and ones that she believed led to a long and lasting marriage.

Not that her own parents had given them an example to go by, but it made sense. Marriage was a partnership and nothing more.

What are you looking for? Galwin had asked.

Well, that was her answer. It should have been her answer if she could have come up with words in that moment.

He’d made her head spin with his talk of marriage and love.

And then he’d left. Walked away from her as though they had not kissed, as though they hadn’t snuck through the back garden together, and as if he had no intention of seeing her again.

Without entirely meaning to, she found herself searching for him in the crowd. Had he truly left? Was he already on his way home? Did he not feel this same lacking sensation, as though there was more to be said between them?

He was nowhere to be seen in the throngs who moved in front of them. Perhaps he had left, after all, without so much as a proper goodbye.

Her pride stung even as she told herself she was being a ninny.

“Are you certain you’re all right?” Georgie asked, concern lacing her voice. “If you are tired, we could leave early.”

She blinked at her little sister. It was such a lovely offer, considering Georgie was clearly thrilled to be here, not only at the ball, which was still a rarity for the younger woman, but to be the sister of the hostess, who also happened to be a countess and the talk of the ton.

Georgie was reveling in her new, esteemed position and it would be cruel to ask her to leave now just because Claire was acting foolish and had been all evening.

Nothing she’d done so far, however, rivaled her stupidity at this particular moment. A kiss with a rake could be explained. It had been a novelty—a rare and exciting act of rebellion. Dancing with him had been a necessity, both to avoid Swattle and to keep up the pretense that he had escorted her in from outside.

But to stand here and seek him out in the crowd like some sort of love-struck fool?

Ridiculous.

What she needed was to clear her head. She needed fresh air, for real this time, and an escape from this crushing crowd and the music and chatter that left her no room to think, let alone wrap her mind around all that had happened. What she needed was space.

“Georgie, will you excuse me for a moment?” She started to walk away before her sister responded.

She made her way through the crowds to the private quarters. Surely she could find an empty room. A place where she could sit and think.

Sure enough the first closed door she found led to a darkened room. A study, it looked like. Good enough. She sank into the settee near the door and exhaled loudly, glad to have relative silence.

The music could still be heard in the background, as could the voices of countless people talking, but it was muted and faraway. She dropped her head back and gazed into the darkness above her head as if all of the answers to life’s dilemmas might be found there.

Instead of answers, she got questions. What did she want?

Freedom.

Though she wanted a husband eventually, Galwin’s questions tonight had made her realize that she did not want to marry right this moment. She wanted time to meet people. Time to find a true partner.

But even before she sought out a husband, she needed…more. She wanted to enjoy this new feeling of freedom, with its heady feeling of expansion and weightlessness.

And? The voice taunted. What else do you want?

It was the smug voice of one who already knows the answer.

She sighed loudly once more, this time in exasperation.

She wanted kisses. One kiss was not enough. And not just any kisses, she wanted more kisses with one man in particular.

Maybe if she were to have one more proper kiss with the man she could shake this feeling that something was missing, that he had walked away too soon.

She rubbed a hand over her chest where her heart felt too big and her pulse too rapid.

She didn’t like this aching feeling as though something were missing. But there was no denying that it had come about when Galwin had walked away from her.

Surely what she needed to feel right again was one more kiss and perhaps one more conversation just to set things to right. They’d been interrupted too soon. There was so much more to be said, and so much more she wanted to hear.

Like it or not, he fascinated her. The man might be a rake, but he was an intelligent rake. And he had a surprisingly gentle side to him. Her mind insisted on replaying the way he’d held her in his arms, the way he’d held her as she’d struggled, the way he’d saved her from Swattle and swept her along to the music as though he’d been built to dance with her.

Utterly preposterous nonsense.

But as much as she scolded herself, even the rational part of her mind could not argue with her logic. If she were to get over this belated rebellious phase, if she were to put Galwin firmly out of her mind, if she were to move on to the point where she could settle down with a husband and family as she intended… well then, there was nothing for it.

She would have to kiss Galwin again.