Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

O h, that vile, despicable, utterly intolerable man!

Ciara could not stop going over what happened a million times until she finally merged with the crowd at the garden party in search of her uncle. She could not stay there any longer.

Spotting her uncle at the far end, she approached him, trying to keep her composure. "Uncle Brendan?" she said softly, catching his attention. "Do you mind if I return home?"

He frowned, his brow furrowing with concern. "But… we have only just arrived. Are you feeling unwell? Has something happened?"

"No, no," she was quick to reassure him. As she spoke, she tried to convey sincerity in her eyes. "I am just… too overwhelmed by the crowd and the music. I think it would be best if I went home and rested."

He neared her, placing his hand on her cheek, as if to check if she had a fever. She was certain that she did, and all she could hope for was that he wouldn't notice. "Are you sure that nothing happened?"

"Yes, Uncle, I am sure," she said, hoping that she didn't blush too noticeably. This was the first time she had ever lied to him, the only person in her family who was now on her side, and she felt horrible about it, but she knew that she could not tell him what had happened.

He sighed, clearly reluctant to let her leave. She knew that he wanted to help her come out of her shell, to engage more with the world around her, and that included mingling at balls and garden parties and not going home an hour after they had arrived.

"Ciara, my dear, you need to give these events a chance," he urged tenderly. "Now that you have returned, it is important to socialize, to meet… new people."

They had never spoken clearly on the topic of her future husband, but she knew that he was thinking about that as well. She, on the other hand, did not care one bit whether she would get married or not. She felt that she had so much pain to deal with first that she could not give herself to anyone in such a manner. At least, not yet. Maybe never.

"I understand, Uncle," she replied, her voice pleading. "But this is just the second party we have attended since I returned from the nunnery."

When she spoke that word, it felt almost blasphemous. A part of her expected to hear thunder rumbling in the distance upon that word, but of course, nature was oblivious to her pain and discomfort. It was solely her own to deal with.

"There will be plenty more chances to do that," she tried to convince him. "Right now, I would just like some peace and quiet. Please?"

After a moment's hesitation, he conceded with a nod. "Very well. But promise me that next time, you will not do this."

"I promise," she said, relieved. She leaned closer and gave him a tender peck on the cheek. "May I take the carriage? Will you be able to get back home on your own?"

"Yes, my dear," he assured her. "I will just have one of my friends take me home, don't worry."

She smiled, giving him another kiss. Then, she quickly made her way back home, her mind still racing with thoughts of the kiss and the mysterious man. As the carriage took her home, her body ached with a longing she didn't quite understand. The unexpected nature as well as the intensity of the kiss had awakened something within her, something primal and almost desperate.

Once inside her room, she closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. Her fingers touched her lips, still tingling from the memory of his kiss. She tried to push the thoughts away, to focus on something else, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. It craved the sensation again, the closeness, the electricity that had sparked between them.

What is this feeling?

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She could not allow herself to be swept away by a moment of passion. She needed to be rational, to think clearly. But even as she told herself this, she could not shake the feeling of longing that had settled deep in her core.

Jonathan thought he would find the siren easily. After all, the red hue in her brown hair made her distinctively different from all the other ladies in attendance. He wondered to himself if he truly had not seen the difference between her and Elizabeth. It seemed like just a serendipitous mishap that he could not help but grin the entire time he had paced through the crowd, nodding at acquaintances but secretly, searching for her.

That was when someone gently tapped him on the elbow. He turned around locking gazes with Elizabeth.

"I was waiting for you," she whispered boldly, her fathomless blue eyes threatening to drag him down into themselves. But strangely enough, his desire for her was nonexistent. All he wanted now was to find the siren.

"I am sorry," he said without meaning it. "I got caught up on the way to you," he admitted, but that was as much as he was willing to divulge.

"Perhaps, you would like to follow me again?" she purred seductively into his ear, spilling all sorts of wild desires right into his mind. He gazed at her, wondering how many men would consider themselves wildly fortunate to be in his place right now, to be asked that very same question by this goddess.

However, his reaction was lacking miserably. He had no desire to follow her anywhere. He wanted to remain there until he found the siren. And then, he wanted to take her far away from that maddening crowd and take her into his arms again. He wanted to taste her, to trail his tongue on her neck, all the way to the outer ridge of her ear, and make her tremble with desire. He wanted to hear the soft little moans as she gripped him, pulling him closer.

He could not believe that a single kiss had the power to inflame him so, to make him yearn for more, even going to such lengths as to refusing the advances of someone like Elizabeth. He was utterly mad for doing that, yet he could not help it. He was mesmerized by the mystery woman, and he knew he had to find her.

"I would love to." He decided to be nice as he promised his cousin he would be. "But I have to find my cousin and speak to her."

That was the kindest excuse he could come up with, and despite being a rake with a reputation of one, he was in no habit of insulting women or making them feel bad. On the contrary, their pleasure was as important to him as his own. The only difference was that he never made any promises to them. They always knew what they were getting themselves into with him and that helped him in considering himself an honorable man… despite his obvious reputation.

"Oh," Elizabeth immediately realized what that meant. There was a lightning bolt of hurt in those beautiful eyes, but she smiled it away. "Of course." Without another word, she withdrew from him, keeping her dignity intact.

What the devil are you doing? He gasped silently to himself. A part of him wanted to run after her, to tell her that he wanted to go with her wherever she would take him. But he could not move. He just watched her leave until she was out of sight, and once again, she was out of his mind as well.

He turned around in an effort to find the fiery-haired siren, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found Rebecca eyeing him furiously from across the garden. He inhaled deeply, walking over to her, ready to be scolded.

"Urgent business discussion with Lord Fitzwilliam?" she echoed his own excuse, much to his amusement. "Who on earth is Lord Fitzwilliam?"

"Oh, you know," he shrugged, gesturing with his hands. "Lord Fitzwilliam. The man I spoke to."

"You disappeared from the garden and ended up God knows where as you always do," she frowned.

He almost told her that was exactly what happened, but he knew better than to divulge that. "I needed some respite from the crowd. These gatherings tend to be too much for me."

That much was true. Only that respite was supposed to be Elizabeth but ended up being someone else, someone who now occupied his every waking thought.

"But you have barely spoken to anyone," she pointed out. "There is a very nice young lady I wanted to introduce you to."

"Speaking of young ladies," he interrupted her, "have you seen a girl with reddish-brown hair tied up in a low bun, wearing a bright red gown?" As he spoke, he looked around, hoping that he would somehow manifest her there, but it was to no avail.

"No," Rebecca shook her head. "I haven't seen anyone like that. Is it someone we know?"

He smirked, feeling strangely titillated by the thought. "In due course."