The Young and the Ruined - Annabelle Anders Page 0,10

chagrin.

But what made this an absolute terror was the crowd of guests who had gathered on the terrace next door. As they ogled the couple’s slow attempt to break apart, the murmurs gathered in a volume that was reminiscent of a murder of crows sounding the alarm.

Nell’s attention turned to the crowd before she returned her gaze to the couple before her. Unable to move, her face was completely void of color as her shock slowly turned to horror.

James rubbed a hand down his face. This was a disaster of epic proportions. “Both of you. Inside.” As the couple obeyed him and walked past, James took Nell’s hand and led her back to the study. He escorted her to a sofa that faced the one the couple had settled into. Harry had slipped Christa’s hand into his.

James lifted a brow at the show of affection. Harry answered with one of his own, the challenge on his face readily apparent to them all.

“Come, Valentina,” the duchess said persuasively as she took his daughter’s hand.

“Will they have a baby now?” Valentina tilted her head to look at the duchess. “Margorie, the upstairs maid, said that kisses lead to babies. I’d like to have a baby around the house, wouldn’t you, Auntie?”

The duchess’s gaze shot to James. “Darling girl, that’s not what happens. I’ll see that your father explains it to you.”

Blowing out his breath, James heard the click of the door as he strolled to the side table where the brandy and sherry bottles stood like soldiers at attention. The entire room was blanketed in silence except for the sound of liquid courage being poured. James served the ladies sherry, then poured Harry and himself a brandy.

He handed Harry his glass then settled next to Nell. Her hands shook, upsetting the liquid in the cut crystal glass.

Her gaze turned to his and the sight nearly brought him to his knees. Her eyes were brimming with the tears that threatened to fall. “I’m cold, James.”

The sound of agony on her lips when she said his name made his insides twist into an untamable knot. Though she’d hurt him in the past and he’d done the same to her, he’d do anything to take away her suffering.

Because he was a fool—a fool for her.

He scooted closer, then lowered his voice. “Take a drink. It’ll help.” He didn’t waste a moment on the couple who sat across from them. All his attention was solely devoted to her and her pain.

She nodded, then forced a sip.

“Take another,” he said.

She did as he directed, then closed her eyes and straightened her shoulders. This was the Nell he’d discovered that summer, a strong resolute woman who was a force within her own right.

“Thank you.” Her gaze dipped to her sister’s hand, the one Harry was holding. She drew a deep breath then released it slowly. “What in God’s teeth were you thinking?”

Harry cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but James shook his head slightly. It was a warning that it would be best to hold his tongue for a moment or two as Nell let her anger loose.

“Did either of you consider the ramifications of your ruinous actions?” she asked and stood slowly.

“Before I answer that question, I want to ask you one,” Christa announced as she stood. “Otherwise, we’ll be like two people unable and unwilling to converse in the same language.” She lifted her chin to stare at her much taller sister. “Have you ever really kissed a man?”

The two women faced each other across the span of five feet. The tension between them practically sparked with energy. It was like watching two gladiators ready to battle without any concern who the crowd favored. Their focus locked on each other.

“What kind of question is that?” Nell asked curtly. “This isn’t about me, but you and your actions here today.”

“Have you?” Christa challenged.

“Of course I’ve kissed a man.” Nell said, a little of her earlier anger vanishing. A red-hot blush crept up her cheeks. “I’m not the one...”

Christa shook her head. “You’re going to say you’re not the one ruined. I’m not talking about pecks on the cheek or on the lips. I’m talking about when you pour everything you are into the other person, and they can’t have enough of you. You become lost in him, and he’s lost in you.”

Carefully, Harry scooted closer to the edge of the sofa, then stood next to Christa and took her hand. A sign of solidarity