Page 2 of When the Scoundrel Sins

Her hand flew up to his shoulder, stopping him. “Whydid you kiss me, Quinton?”

He shifted back at that, perplexed. Then he answered softly, “Honestly? I don’t know.”

Oh, that wasexactlythe last thing a young lady wanted to hear after giving away her first kiss! He couldn’t even come up with a good lie to explain himself, or some affectionate compliment that he was so expert at giving to other ladies.

Apparently she didn’t even merit empty flattery.

His eyes gleamed. “Annabelle, you’re definitely not the sort of woman I normally end up with in the shadows.”

The raw honesty of that burned into her chest. But he chuckled, as if he found their predicament humorous.

She blinked but couldn’t clear the gathering tears from her eyes. “Was this only a joke to you?” Just another way for him to tease and torment her? She knew he was a rascal, but she never thought he’d stoop so low as this!

His expression grew serious beneath the shadows. “At first, yes,” he admitted. “But it didn’t end that way.”

Anger and shame pulsed through her. With a soft cry, she shoved him back. She turned to hurry out from beneath the bower—

And tripped.

Her toe caught on a root, and she fell forward. Off-balance and unable to stop herself, she hit her shoulder on the post framing the entrance. The loud rip of tearing fabric sounded in her ears only heartbeats before her knees hit the dirt. For one moment, she could do nothing in her stunned shock but rest there on her hands and knees, her head hanging with mortification and her bodice sagging loose.

“Belle!” Quinton knelt beside her and reached for her arm. “Are you hurt?”

Squeezing her eyes shut against the hot tears, she shook her head. A lie. Because her heart had shattered.

He helped her to her feet. With her arms clamped tightly over her bodice to keep it in place, as if she could also physically fight back the embarrassment pouring through her, she wrestled her arm free from his grip. Her vision was too blurred with tears and shadows to see his face clearly—oh, she was glad of it! She couldn’t have borne to see his pity. The humiliation would have killed her.

“Are you all right?” he quietly demanded, taking her shoulders in both hands so she couldn’t pull away again.

A sob choked from her. “My dress…” She’d ruined the expensive ivory and pearl silk gown that Lady Ainsley insisted she wear for her first ball. Her ripped bodice gaped open over her breasts, the skirt stained with dirt.

“Let me help.” He reached for her.

“Go away!” She twisted away from him. “Haven’t you done enough to me tonight?”

He stared at her incredulously, his lips parting at her angry rebuke. Then his eyes narrowed. “I’ve donenothing—”

“Carlisle!” A man’s voice rang out through the quiet of the garden, followed by a jarring laugh. “There you are!”

“Christ,” he snapped out, then tried to remove his jacket for her. But it was too late.

Two men came upon them in the dark garden, with lit cheroots and glasses of whiskey in their hands. They froze when they saw Belle in her torn dress and Quinton half out of his jacket. Then lecherous grins spread across their faces, their teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

“And he’s busy,” the first man drawled.

The second one looped his arm over his friend’s shoulders and tapped his glass against the man’s chest. “Deliciously so.”

Fresh humiliation cascaded through Belle, and she cringed at the lascivious looks the two men gave her, slowly raking their gazes over her from her dirtied hem to her torn bodice. She turned away, but it was too late. They’d surely recognized her, even in the shadows. And what they must have thought she and Quinn had been up to—

“Go away,” he growled, stepping between her and the men. His hands drew into fists at his sides.

The first man tsked his tongue. “And let you have all the fun?”

Belle recognized him—Burton Williams, Viscount Houghton’s youngest son. Her stomach sickened.Oh God, not that scapegrace and male gossip!

“I never would have figured you for a piece like this, though,” Williams muttered disdainfully.

Belle’s chest tightened so hard that she couldn’t breathe, that she was certain her heart would stop beneath the pressure of it. She lowered her head to hide her face as the first tear slid down her cheek.