Lessons from a Scandalous Bride (Forgotten Princesses #2)(37)

The triumph in Hamilton’s eyes only glowed brighter. “That’s right,” he announced with a haughty shake of his head. “I’ve seen you staring after each other like two hungry dogs. I knew you were lovers and sought to prove it.”

“We’re not lovers,” Cleo hissed with a stamp of her foot. “This was a mistake.”

“Oh, it was a mistake indeed,” Libba declared. “One that you shall never live down. I don’t care if your sister’s a princess or your father’s as rich as Croesus. Nothing will see you out of this mess. All will shun you. I shall see to it!”

Something indecipherable passed over Cleo’s face, and then, in a blink, it was gone. She was all coolness, immune to Libba and anything or anyone else. Inhaling, she turned to the group, her words calm and even. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

“You’ll leave now,” Libba ordered, her voice cutting.

Cleo angled her head, holding up a hand in supplication. “I’ve no means to reach Town. We traveled here together, remember?”

“You think I care?” Libba glanced to her cousin as though seeking support.

Hamilton nodded. “You’ve abused my hospitality. You’ve crushed the hearts of my cousin and dear uncle.” He motioned to Thrumgoodie, who continued to gaze at Cleo in the manner of a wounded puppy. “How you make it home is of no concern to me.” He flicked a scornful glance at Logan. “I’m sure your champion here shall see to your needs.”

Cleo looked at him in horror and he knew exactly what she was thinking—the same thought running through his mind.

They were a full day from Town.

She shook her head. “You cannot be serious.”

Hamilton answered her by turning his back on them. “Come, uncle, let’s see you back to bed. You don’t look well.”

Thrumgoodie did indeed look unwell. As Hamilton began to guide him around, the old man suddenly grabbed his chest and collapsed into a pitiable heap. Soft little mewls fell from his colorless lips.

Cries filled the air as everyone surrounded him. Logan looked heavenward with a sigh. Things were already bad enough, but if the old man died there would be no way Cleo could survive the ruin of this night.

He glanced at her.

Hands pressed to her cheeks, she watched the unfolding debacle in horror.

“Look what you’ve done!” Libba shrieked amid the din. “You’ve killed him! You killed him!”

Almost idly, he wondered if Cleo would finally accept his suit. After all, no one else would have either one of them now.





Chapter Fifteen

Thankfully it was a full moon.

She could see several feet in front of her—enough at least to avoid the ruts and dips in the well-traversed road. The dark air shimmered with a pearlescent glow. It was almost like someone had draped a veil of silver netting over the night. She was glad she wasn’t alone . . . and then mad at herself for feeling glad that he was here with her. The wretch. He was responsible for this entire mess. If he hadn’t shown up in her chamber . . .

She stifled a snort at the thought. Disgust for her behavior filled her. What? She couldn’t have exhibited a little self-control? She couldn’t have resisted his kisses and caresses? She couldn’t have protested as he lowered her to the bed? Her eyes stung as the faces of her siblings filled her mind.

Her stepfather wouldn’t wait much longer. Certainly not long enough for her to start over and find a new beau. Blinking, she fought back the wash of tears. It wasn’t over. She’d still find a way to save them all. What choice did she have?

She increased her pace and ignored the steady clomp of hoofs behind her. Or at least she pretended to ignore them. She heard every thumping step. Every vibration over the hard ground. She even imagined she felt the hot fan of the horse’s breath at her neck. That might have been her fanciful imaginings, but she didn’t imagine the sensation of Logan’s stare drilling into her back.

He could have ridden ahead—as she urged him to do—but he walked his horse behind her. Infuriating man.

She switched her valise from one sweaty-palmed hand to the other. She’d left her small trunk behind and simply packed the essentials for her trek to the neighboring village. The essentials were more than enough. More than she’d owned when she’d been living at home with her mother a year ago. They’d make do until she reached her father’s house.

“Tired?” his voice rang out in the night.

She whirled around. “It’s the middle of the night and I’m walking down a country road—no thanks to you. Tired doesn’t even touch upon my sentiments.”

In the pale glow of the moon, his expression held blank. He merely stared down at her from where he sat atop his mount, his reins loose in his hand. The impatient beast pawed at the ground.

“So you’re not tired?” he inquired in a maddeningly even voice.

With a growl of frustration, she whirled back around and continued tromping down the road.

“You’re welcome to ride my mount.”

She ignored the offer. Again. She was too furious to accept any help from him. He’d ruined everything. She could hardly even manage conversing with him without losing her temper. Best she held her tongue.

They continued for a few more moments before he spoke again. “At the very least, I could attach your valise to the side.”