Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

" Y es, but you obviously don't know what solitary means; otherwise, you wouldn't be here," Ciara snapped, unable to control herself as the rage and anguish from the encounter with her parents still boiled inside of her.

She was still reeling from the painful interaction with her parents, and the sight of Jonathan only added to her agitation. She could not keep the frustration from bubbling over. The Duke of Silverbrook was the last person she wanted to see at this point. All she wanted was to be left alone, but there was not a single place in that entire mansion where she would be granted that.

The sheer rage at her helplessness poured out of her every gaze, her every word. "Why are you so insistent on following me?" she snapped, her voice sharp. "Haven't you had your fun already?"

The Duke smirked, undeterred by her anger. He stepped closer, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. "I actually keep telling myself that, but every time I see you, I realize that no, the fun is not over. In fact, it has just begun."

"I am not here for your amusement," she snarled at him, determined to treat him just like she had treated Sarah. She would show him that she would not accept being treated with disrespect.

"But I am here for yours, siren," he teased. "If you want me to be."

"The sort of fun you have to offer is not something I am interested in, Your Grace," she assured him. "And I just told you, I want to be left alone," she reminded him, strangely feeling slightly less angry.

"But a ball is exactly the opposite of that," he said with surprise. "You come to a ball to socialize, not the other way around."

"Well, mistakes happen," she said, staring him straight in the eyes, not allowing herself to look away even for a second. "Like the one by the pond."

"Ah, but you see, that was a fortuitous misunderstanding," he said, grinning in a way that drove her mad. She had no idea why she was reacting to him in such a manner, wanting to feel his lips on hers again. It was utterly maddening.

"A mistake," she urged, ignoring the blush that spilled all over her cheeks.

He chuckled at her insistence. "I knew immediately that you had some fire in you. Tell me, sweet siren, do you bite as well?"

Ciara could not believe him. Her frustration was reaching its peak, but she knew that she could not show him that. That would only cause him more pleasure. She needed to show him that she was as calm and composed as he was. She needed to be on his level in order to play his game. And the worst part was that she needed to remain there with him. Back inside, she could risk running into her parents again, and that was the last thing she wanted to happen. She wanted to avoid another confrontation, to escape the judgment and harsh words that had wounded her so deeply.

"I might," she said instead of telling him how rude and annoying he was. "If you keep following me, that is."

His laughter was rich and genuine, sending a shiver down her spine. "You are clever enough to deduce that I would not object to that, Miss Everton."

He continued his playful banter, sensing her reluctance to go back inside, "What is it about me that vexes you so, Miss Everton? Is it my charm, my wit, or perhaps my devastatingly good looks?"

"Your arrogance, mostly," she retorted, her eyes flashing with irritation.

He chuckled, moving even closer until he was mere inches away. "Ah, but you see, it's only arrogance if it's unfounded. I prefer to think of it as confidence."

Ciara turned to face him, her chin held high. She tried not to pay attention to how devilishly handsome he was, how utterly titillating his smile was. "And what makes you so confident that I would tolerate your company?"

The Duke's gaze softened slightly, his playful smirk turning into a more genuine smile. "Because, despite your protests, I think you enjoy our exchanges as much as I do. There's a spark between us, one that neither of us can deny."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. There was an undeniable chemistry between them, a magnetic pull that drew her to him even as she fought against it. His confidence, his teasing, and his charm all combined to create an allure that was hard to resist.

"That is most certainly not the case," she finally flared at his words. And even if it was the case, she would certainly not admit it to him of all people.

"You may deny it all you want, siren," he teased. "But your actions speak louder than your words."

"No, it is you reading into things that are not there," she retorted.

"Well, now I am here," he said walking closer to her. "And from what I see, you need someone to keep you company, someone who can distract you from the unpleasantness of this evening."

Unpleasantness?

She wondered if he noticed what happened between her and her parents. She sighed. Of course, he noticed. Everyone in attendance noticed because they all knew what had happened. And the saddest part of all was that no one was on her side, no one but Uncle Brendan and her friends.

"I do not need to be distracted from anything, especially not by you," She shook her head. "I meant what I told you before. A lady alone in your presence is?—"

She started, but she was not allowed to finish. Voices were coming from the corridor. Her heart skipped a beat, and she gasped, fearing so many things. She locked eyes with Jonathan, who reacted immediately. He grabbed her arm and pressed her against the side of the balcony's entrance, pulling them both out of view. He placed a finger on his lips, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. They were inches apart, and the tension between them was electrifying.

She wanted him to kiss her. In truth, she wanted to kiss him.

It was beyond mad, beyond utterly ludicrous what she was feeling at that moment, and yet, she could not help it. She had completely forgotten all about the danger she was in and instead focused solely on the touch of his finger pressed upon her lips.

The voices grew louder as they approached then slowly faded as they passed by the corridor. Ciara's heart pounded, not just from the fear of being discovered but from the closeness of the Duke's body against hers. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of his cologne enveloping her senses.

Once the voices had completely faded, she pushed him away, her emotions a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. She hurried inside, eager to put distance between them, but the Duke was relentless. He followed her, his steps quick and purposeful. Before she could get far, he reached out and took her hand, pulling her close once more.

"Ciara," he said softly, his voice a mix of urgency and something deeper that she could not quite place. "Why are you running from me?"

Neither of them realized that Miss Sarah Danforth and her group of friends were standing at the edge of the corridor, their eyes wide with shock and amusement at the scene unfolding before them.

The whispered gossip had already begun; the scandalous implications of Ciara and the Duke being caught alone together spreading like wildfire.

Ciara's eyes widened as she noticed the group, her heart sinking at the sight of their judgmental stares and knowing smirks. Panic surged through her, and she pushed Jonathan away with all her strength, breaking free from his grasp.

"Miss Everton, wait—" the Duke called after her, but it was too late.

She had already bolted past Sarah and her friends, her face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, knowing that she had just been completely ruined.

The carriage ride home was tense and silent at first, the weight of the evening's events hanging heavily in the air. Ciara sat with her hands clenched in her lap, her mind racing with a mix of anger, shame, and frustration. Uncle Brendan, sitting across from her, finally broke the silence, his voice stern and edged with disappointment.

"I asked you to come out of your shell, Ciara, not to be compromised by a rake!" he snapped, his eyes flashing with anger, something she had never seen before. "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

Ciara flinched at his tone, her cheeks burning with shame. He had never spoken to her like that, although her parents adamantly believed that he, as well as them, had a reason to.

"Uncle Brendan, it was not like that. The Duke was just?—"

"Just what?" Uncle Brendan interrupted, his voice rising even more. "Flirting with you? Putting you in a position where your reputation is now in tatters? I warned you about the dangers of such men, Ciara. Neither I nor your duchess friend can get you out of this situation."

Tears stung Ciara's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I… I don't know what came over me, Uncle. But I know that I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for him to follow me or for Miss Danforth and her friends to find us."

Her uncle was still staring at her intently, trying to understand how on earth she had allowed something like this to happen. She herself couldn't tell him because she didn't know. She wasn't herself, and that was the most frightening thing of all.

"Intentions aside, the damage is done," Uncle Brendan said, his voice softening slightly but still stern as he came to terms with the situation. "You have to be more careful, especially with men like that. His reputation precedes him, and now, by association, your reputation is at risk too."

She knew that was putting it mildly. Her reputation was not only at risk, but it was lingering on the edge of the precipice which could mean her certain doom. She had made a dreadful mistake. Now, she was certain of it, but it was too late for any regrets.

Ciara looked out the window, the passing landscape a blur as she tried to process her uncle's words. She knew he was right, but the unfairness of the situation gnawed at her. She had only wanted to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the ballroom, and instead, she had walked into an even worse predicament.

"I am sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Uncle Brendan sighed, his expression softening further. "I know you are, Ciara. But being sorry isn't enough. You have to be smarter, more aware of how society views these things. One misstep can ruin everything. And you did exactly that. The ton… they will say terrible things now. I am certain that they already are."

"It would not be the first time that they say terrible things about me," she reminded him. "You know what I did."

"I know that. I also know why you did it. I know you planted a well-deserved facer on that young man because he insulted my mother, your grandmamma. You had a reason for that. And I never wanted you to end up in a nunnery because of it. But now… what is the reason behind this? Have I given you any cause to act in this manner?"

"Of course you haven't, Uncle! I could have never dreamed of the kindness you have shown me," she replied.

She dared not tell him about her encounter with the Duke by the pond. That would prove to him that she plunged willingly into this disgrace. That she might have somehow predicted or even planned it with the Duke himself. That was of course preposterous, but she knew that the ton only cared about what something looked like, not what it actually was. That was the sad truth of their existence and also why she never felt as if she could live her own life in such a false manner.

"Then what was it?" he asked.

"I was upset after I saw my parents," she confessed with a voice that was on the verge of breaking. "The Duke saw what had happened, and he followed me to see if I was all right."

Her uncle frowned. She knew how preposterous that excuse sounded. A man with such a reputation following a young woman into a solitary corner to ask if she were all right? That was no more possible than pigs taking flight.

"I know how that sounds," she said, realizing that she was only enforcing a lie.

She knew well why he had followed her. She knew it because she wanted the same. She wanted the repetition of that scene by the pond, regardless of all common sense.

"You should have come to me, Ciara, and not allowed yourself to be prey to a man like him," he chastised, frustration furrowing his brow.

"I know, Uncle. You are right. I should have acted more rationally." Her voice was laced with guilt, and she couldn't help but swallow hard as she spoke.

Her uncle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a defeated manner. "I suppose there is no point in discussing something that has already happened. What we need to focus on now is you steering clear of that man. There is to be no more contact between you two unless it is in the middle of the crowd with everyone serving as chaperones. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Uncle," she nodded.

She knew that he only meant well. His orders were for her own good, unlike the orders she used to receive from her parents.

She looked away at the window, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. She had to find a way to navigate this scandal, to protect herself and her future which at the moment didn't seem bright.

But for now, all she could do was endure the journey home and hope that tomorrow would bring some clarity.