Page 24 of Road Trip With a Rogue
“You’re referring to your leaving party?” Her voice didn’t waver, thank God.
Vaughan crossed his legs, balancing one booted ankle on the opposite knee, the picture of relaxed elegance, but Daisy wasn’t fooled. He was poised to attack.
“I am,” he said smoothly.
“You call threatening me and insulting me ‘noble’?”
“Threatening you, insulting you, andkissingyou,” he amended coolly. “And yes, I do. You were still a virgin when you left the house, weren’t you?” His gaze caught hers and she couldn’t seem to look away. “In fact, now I think of it, that might have been the first and only time I’ve ever denied myself something I wanted for a noble cause.”
She managed a disbelieving snort. “Pfft! You didn’t want me, Vaughan. It was hardly a gallant sacrifice.”
Something flared in his eyes. “You think not?”
“Of course not. Why would you? You’ve always had women throwing themselves at you.”
“Maybe that’s why I didn’t wantthem.” His lips curvedin self-mocking derision. “It’s human nature to want what you can’t have.”
“You said you were the only man in the house, apart from my brothers, who wouldn’t fuck me.” The crude word felt strange in her mouth.
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”
It was suddenly hard to breathe, as if all the air in the carriage had been sucked out. The rain drummed against the windowpanes.
“I wanted you,” he said darkly. “More than my next breath.”
Daisy inhaled. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, but she forced herself to focus on his use of the past tense. He’dwantedher. That didn’t mean he felt the same way now. Back then, she’d been forbidden, a novelty.
She feigned a nonchalance she certainly didn’t feel. “Yes, well, we’re both a few years older and wiser now. I’m not such an innocent fool.”
“No?” His amused skepticism made her want to punch him. “I expect you’ve had a hundred men since then.”
She clenched her fists in her lap and the reckless desire to shock him heated her blood. “Not a hundred. But I’m no longer a virgin, if that’s what you’re inferring.”
His brows rose. She’d expected him to be disapproving, or at the very least surprised, but it was interest that flared in his eyes. He seemed intrigued.
“How very rebellious. Who was the lucky gentleman? Or gentlemen. Anyone I know?”
“It was just the one,” she said, matching his cool, mocking tone. “And he wasn’t a gentleman at all.”
Something dark flashed into his expression. “He mistreated you? Hurt you?”
“No. Nothing like that. He was a stable hand at Hollyfield; not a gentleman.”
His tension seemed to ebb a little, and she found a dry humor in the fact that he reserved his outrage for the idea of her being abused, instead of for the fact that she’d willingly surrendered her innocence to someone of a lower class. She couldn’t imagine getting that reaction from any other male of her acquaintance.
“We have hours to go,” he said easily. “You might as well tell me all the sordid details.”
Daisy bit her lip, torn. She’d only ever told Tess and Ellie of her short-lived affair. If any other member of thetonwere to hear of it, she’d be ruined socially, cast out as a ‘soiled dove,’ and her chances of marrying well would be decimated.
Not that she particularly cared about that, but shewouldcare if the scandal meant that her friends were tainted by association.
And yet she didn’t imagine Vaughan would spill her secrets. He had too much money to need to resort to blackmail, although he might find it amusing to threaten to expose her, just to watch her squirm.
“Your secrets will be safe with me,” he said drily, reading her thoughts with uncanny accuracy yet again. “I like your brothers too much to want to plunge your family into scandal, and I don’t fancy shooting one of them for having sullied your reputation.”
Daisy shrugged. In fairness, Vaughan was probably unshockable. Her fumbling exploits could hardly compare to his vast worldly experience. And besides, there was still a foolish part of her that wanted to prove to him that she wasn’t the naive little eighteen-year-old he’d encountered five years ago.
“His name was Tom Harding. He died at Waterloo.”