But not like this.
Not through societal force.
Tears stung her eyes, and she folded her gloved hands into fists.
But even she knew there was no going back from this. The die was cast. Not even she could pretend the kiss away.
And she did not want to. Oh no, she wanted his kiss a thousand times and more if she was honest.
What would she do if she did not marry him?
Half of London would know by tomorrow that she had kissed him in the garden. And then where would she be?Ruined. Her whole family drenched in the catastrophe of scandal. And all her sisters and their husbands. And her sister about to be married ...
Oh, dear heaven.
She sucked in a sharp breath, marveling at the horror of her folly.
But it had been so perfect. That kiss. Would she take it back if she could?
No, she knew. Even as tears slipped down her cheeks. But the storm that would come if she did not marry Peter?
It was not to be borne. She could not do that to her family. If she didn’t marry Peter, she would have to go to the continent. She wouldn’t join a nunnery. No one could force her to do that. A life behind walls was not for her.
But she could possibly disappear somewhere where people would forget about her within a year. She was already eminently forgettable, certainly.
Surely, as easily as they forgot she was in a ballroom, they could forget her and her scandal?
She dashed the tears from her cheeks and wished she could simply disappear. Just as she always did. Why now? Why in her one moment of happiness had she been noticed?
It wasn’t fair at all.
She paused as she heard thundering footsteps behind her. Dear God, they weren’t going to give up, were they? Of course, they weren’t.
Edmund and Peter were indefatigable. There was no questioning that.
They were determined young men who thought they knew what was best for everyone, including her. Perhaps they’d be able to come up with an agreement. One where she didn’t feel as if she was marching Peter down the aisle.
That was the last way she wanted him. Even if she had dreamed of him for years. This was not the way she’d had him in her dreams. In her dreams, he’d finally seen her for her beauty within and fallen in love with her and not been able to let her go.
Ha!
Oh, how she wished she could take that book and cast it into the Thames. It was the cause of a great deal of trouble.
“Ophelia,” Edmund called out. “Please stop.”
It was thepleasethat did stop her. And so, ensuring no tears shone upon her cheeks, she turned and faced her brother and Peter, whose face was not full of anger as she thought it might be but rather concern.
In fact, Peter looked worried, and dare she say a tad stunned, as if he did not know what had suddenly happened to him. She had bashed him over the head with the marital baton, and he was about to be a man that many young gentlemen would consider on the eve of execution.
That’s what had happened to him.
She had done that to him.
But then she forced her thoughts to slow and consider.
No, she hadn’t done that entirely to him, had she?
Hehad kissed her in the dark garden, knowing full well what could happen. She was not responsible for his risk. But she had kissed him back, and oh, she was glad she had. Despite the consequences.