A Perfect Scandal by Tina Gabrielle

Author:Tina Gabrielle [Gabrielle, Tina]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2010-10-07T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Isabel rolled over and groaned. Bright sunlight flowed into the room through the lace curtains and cut across the bed. Disoriented, she struggled to sit up, and then immediately regretted the movement. Her head throbbed as if an elephant sat upon it; her mouth felt like she had sucked on dry cotton. She held up a hand to shield her sensitive pupils from the invasive light reflecting off the white walls.

Trying to gain a sense of awareness, she looked about her—mauve carpet, a chest of drawers, an oversized wardrobe, and a padded chair situated by a fireplace.

Her eyes flew back to the chair and the blue silk gown thrown across its cushions.

A terrifying realization washed over her. Memories of her wedding day focused in her mind—the church ceremony, the wedding breakfast at the Ravenspears’ mansion, and afterward…

Her face burned as she remembered bits and pieces of the night. The dinner debacle between Marcus and his father, and the vast quantity of wine she had drunk to ease her nerves. Then there was later, much later, when Marcus had helped her up the stairs, had shown her to her rooms, had helped her undress…

No, she had all but demanded that he assist with her buttons. She had acted a wanton, a woman of very loose morals, and had propositioned him when she was the one that had insisted on a marriage in name only. She couldn’t recall the precise words she had said to him, but she knew that she had all but begged him to make love to her.

Had he taken her up on her offer?

She touched her breasts, and then lowered her hand between her legs. She was not sore and did not feel any different.

No, Marcus Hawksley was a true gentleman, a good man, and he would never take advantage of a drunken woman, even one who urged him to do so.

A quick and disturbing thought flew through her. She realized that she was not dismayed at the notion of losing her innocence to Marcus, but rather that she would have no memory of the experience. If she slept with Marcus, then she wanted to recall every vivid detail, memorize the feel of his flesh against hers, the scent of their passion, and cherish those memories for the rest of her life. For she was certain that such a virile, masculine male like Hawksley would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience that a woman would never forget.

She shook her head, forcing her thoughts back to the present. How was she to face Marcus today? And what about the staff? The entire household must know that their new mistress had been foxed—or rather, stinking drunk—on her first night here. She felt a shudder of humiliation.

She slid off the bed, gripped the bedside table, and forced herself to stand straight. “No sense fretting about what you cannot control,” she spoke out loud.

She spotted her trunks in the corner of the room. No doubt, the ever-efficient Mrs. McLaughlin had ordered her belongings brought up before Isabel had even stepped foot through the doorway of her new rooms.

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