Page 69 of Almost A Scoundrel

She might as well sleep. For he certainly wouldn’t tonight.

Chapter Thirteen

Phaedra gripped thesmall missive sent from Deerhurst tightly in her grasp. He hoped she would feel well soon.

She sighed.

She had opened her eyes that morning with a keen sense of dread. At first, she hadn’t known what stirred such a horrid feeling, only that it was no pleasure rising with it. Then the flashes of impressions sparked a flood of memories she was wholly unprepared for, all but bursting through the banks of her mind.

The masked ball.

The kiss.

The rancorous crowd of rousers.

The wine.

Deerhurst in her bed.

More kisses.

Embarrassed and alarmed by all that had transpired the previous evening, Phaedra had hastily penned Deerhurst a note, thanking him for his protection and that he had brought her safely home, and letting him know that she would also take a day or two to rest.

In truth, Phaedra had entered full avoidance mode.

Lud, and her aunt.

That had been her biggest shock.

Not only was she avoiding Deerhurst, but she was also avoiding all the drawing rooms in the house, one in particular. She’d never be able to receive another caller in that room. Ever.

They took tea there!

All she would be able to see now was her aunt, breasts on display, and a naked man doing unspeakable things. And Deerhurst had been right by her side, witnessing everything.

The library seemed the only haven for her now.

Honestly, she didn’t quite know what to make of their relationship. Fake courtship aside, they should not be kissing, sleeping in the same bed, and slipping out to gaudy balls. What did it mean for them? Nothing either of them wanted. They both had different futures. Different paths to walk. They were only brought together by a cat and a moment of madness. Some might call that fate, but Phaedra didn’t believe in such nonsensical things.

There really was only one thing left to do.

End it.

“There you are, dear.” Her mother breezed into the library with a stocking dangling on her fingers. “Is this yours?”

Phaedra frowned. “I don’t believe so. Why?”

“I found it tucked behind a pillow in the drawing room.”

Phaedra’s eyes widened.

Oh no.

No.

No. No.

No doubt the stocking belonged to Portia. She must have misplaced it after last night’s assignation!