The Wrong Woman (Unexpected Love #1) by Kimberly Truesdale

Author:Kimberly Truesdale [Truesdale, Kimberly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Toast and Tea Publications
Published: 2013-03-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

What have I done?

Isobel stood outside the closed door, her hand pressed to her mouth, trying to erase the feel of Lord Revere's lips on hers. She had kissed the man who was supposed to be her sister’s husband. And the worst of it was that she wanted to do it again.

What have I done? So many emotions welled up within her breast that she could hardly breathe. But when she put her hand over her heart to still its rapid motion, but that only brought the memory of Lord Revere's hand there.

Isobel's fist closed over the ringlet. She crushed the delicate curl and cursed the vanity that had put it there this evening.

What have I done? The question propelled her down the hallway toward some unknown destination. She only needed to be away from that room. And from him. He'd dazzled her and she, like a silly girl, had fallen for it. The intimacy of the darkened room, the closeness of their dance. Isobel had lost her senses.

Or found them. Nine and twenty years of life had not provided her with many exquisite moments like that. But it was not supposed to be her moment. It should have been Cat’s.

Isobel had been so carried away by the feeling of being in a man’s arms. For the first time in a long time, she had felt comfortable and safe just as she was. No need to worry. She'd even forgotten her past with Lord Revere. He had been so gentle.

And then it had all come crashing in. She had kissed her sister's intended husband.

What now? She could not stay here. She could not face him again. Nor could she face going to the ballroom to find Aunt Hetty or Cat.

Home. It was all she could think of. Home. She needed her own room. She needed to lay on the bed and weep out all the emotion inside of her. Only then could she decide what to do.

Home. She would go now. Gathering the tiny scrap of self-possession that she had left, Isobel made her way to the front door. Should she call Aunt Hetty and Cat? No. Isobel did not want to ruin the rest of their evening. Besides, she would have to explain herself. No, home was not far away. The brisk night air would do her good and help her clear her head.

Isobel gathered her coat from the footman and stepped out into the midnight air. She inhaled deeply, the chilly air filling her aching chest.

With each few strides, she took a deep breath. It calmed her after the turmoil of what had just happened. Nothing had changed, nothing was resolved, but her own mind was calmer now that she was doing something. She stopped and closed her eyes.

And so she did not see the dark figure until he had overtaken her and clapped a dirty hand firmly over her mouth. She felt something cold jab into her neck.

“Don't move or scream, lass, or I will kill you.

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