Something Sinful by Suzanne Enoch

Author:Suzanne Enoch [Enoch, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9780061752544
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2011-10-18T07:42:16+00:00

Sarala paced up and down Lady Deverill’s garden, while a few feet away her hostess pretended to prune roses. She knew it was a pretense, because every minute or so Eleanor would look toward the house, then glance over at her and smile.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Sarala finally blurted.

“I know. I blame Shay.”

Considering the marchioness’s choice of words, Sarala didn’t feel very reassured. For heaven’s sake, what had happened? She and Shay had been arguing, kissing, and then Melbourne had appeared like the personification of Doom. Everyone began congratulating her, and then it had sunk in—married. She and Charlemagne were betrothed. But she couldn’t marry him. He was a Griffin, and she was…She didn’t know what she was, but she certainly knew that she couldn’t marry Shay Griffin.

“Sarala.”

She jumped at the sound of his low voice. He stood at the edge of the rose garden, his gaze on her and his expression unreadable.

“Go away, Shay,” Eleanor stated, dropping her pruners into a bucket. “You’ve done enough damage for one afternoon.”

“This from the chit who eloped to Scotland,” he retorted. “You go away. I want to speak with Sarala.”

The butler appeared behind Charlemagne. “Begging your pardon, Lady Deverill, Lord Charlemagne, but Lord and Lady Hanover have arrived. I’ve placed them in the morning room, as you instructed.”

“Thank you, Hobbes,” Eleanor said. “Where is Melbourne?”

“His Grace is in the library, awaiting Lord Charlemagne.”

Shay nodded. “Nell, you stay here with Sarala. Sebastian and I will see to this.”

Sarala blinked. They were going to take care of everything, make it smooth and proper and pleasant, face the sting of her parents’ anger while she remained elsewhere. “No,” she broke in.

“Beg pardon?”

She strode up to Shay. “I said, no. I will speak to my parents first. I do still have some say in all of this.”

“Of course you do. But the mistake was mine. You needn’t face them—”

“‘Mistake’?” she repeated, a bit shrilly. “The ‘mistake’ was mutual. And I will explain it. When my parents have all the facts, then you may speak with them, if you still wish to.”

“Sarala, I misspoke. Don’t—”

“Excuse me,” she said, and walked past the butler into the house.

Once she’d made her way down the hall, for a long moment she stood outside the closed morning room doors. It was the first time she’d been alone since…it…the “mistake” had happened, and in truth she still had no idea what to make of it all.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered. For all the pride she had in the abilities of her mind and of her intellect, she’d made the most simple and obvious of errors—she’d allowed herself to be discovered alone in a room with a man. A man whom she happened to be kissing. Yes, in that sense, Shay had been correct; they had made a mistake. Perhaps that was all he’d meant, but his blasted word choice could have been better.

She groaned, rubbing her temple. What she wanted to do was run and scream and punch something very hard, but that would have been as unacceptable in Delhi as it was in London.

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