"What's so funny?"
"You are crying, not because I have taken advantage of you, not because anybody could have seen us, not because I was more forceful than I should have been, but because you are worried of what I think of you, is that right?"
She nodded miserably.
"Unbelievable," he muttered before marching back to the side table and pouring more brandy. This time, two glasses.
Coming back he thrust one toward her.
"Here," he snapped gruffly, "drink this."
"I don't want it."
"It's for the shock."
"I'm not in shock," she argued, stomping her foot.
"Well then, you're the only one," he said before swallowing the entire contents of his glass.
He stared sternly at her until she finally gave in and took a tentative sip. The amber liquid burned down her throat and warmed her instantaneously but the taste was horrible.
She grimaced and gave it back to him.
With a wry smile he took it and moved it along with his own, back to the table.
"Not to your taste, hmm?"
"It's disgusting."
"You get used to it."
"Only if you want to," she answered.
He laughed softly then asked, his voice quiet; "are you alright?"
Mariah was beginning to feel thoroughly embarrassed about her behaviour and at his question her cheeks flamed.
She nodded but avoided his eyes, looking instead at the floor.
"I am sorry," he said now, cupping her chin and tilting it so that she had no choice but to look up into his dark eyes.
"You do not need to be," she said licking her lips, "truly."
She could not in good conscience allow him to feel that she hadn't been a willing participant in their kiss.
If anything, she was convinced that it would have been a lot more than a kiss had he not stopped it.
She told herself not to feel so excited at the thought.
"I don't know what came over me," he said now, sounding bewildered, "I mean, anyone with eyes can see how incredibly attractive you are. But that." He shook his head now. "That was – different."
Oh God! Did that mean she was bad at it?
The thought was even more embarrassing than anything else she'd felt up to this point.
And in her embarrassment, she found the strength to be angry. Angry was good. Angry meant she wouldn't cry again.
"Yes, well, apologies if it's not up to your standards, but contrary to what you must think of me now, I am not accustomed to kissing gentlemen I've only just met. In fact," she continued, trying to inject her tone with some haughtiness, "I'm not accustomed to kissing anyone."
"Miss Bolton, I can assure you I do not think you are anything other than an innocent."
His words, instead of calming her down, only incensed her more.
"Oh, so I am so terrible a kisser that it is proof of my innocence?"
"What? No, that is not what I meant. I merely—"
"Oh I know exactly what you meant. Perhaps they do things differently in London, sir. But here in the North we tend not to insult each other at every chance we get."
Mariah spun on her heel and practically ran from the room.
Never had she been so embarrassed, never had she been so angry and never had she been so convinced that her life had just changed forever.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Mariah, are you unwell?"
Her mother's short, sharp question sounded from the doorway.
"I did not hear you knock, Mama," said Mariah sarcastically. She was far from in the mood to deal with her mother today.
"That's because I didn't," said her mother without apology, peering at her with eyes that usually missed very little. "Why are you still abed? You missed breakfast and I am sure you should have been at the Manor long before now."
Mariah sighed and sat up. Apparently, her plan of hiding in her room for the rest of her life had been foiled already. Before she'd even aged a full day.
"I did not sleep well last night," she explained now.
It was a gross understatement. The truth was she had not slept at all last night and had only dozed off when the cockerel from the neighbouring farm made his presence well and truly known.
"Well that's no reason to stay in bed all day. Mr. Haverton will be expecting you."
At the mention of Brandon Haverton's name, Mariah felt a strange mixture of nervousness, lust and shame spread through her.
He was the most confusing and handsome man she'd ever met. The combination did absolutely nothing for her sleeping habits.
"Mama, I have been thinking and perhaps you were right yesterday. It does seem unfair that Papa should be left to do everything by himself and, well, it is rather unheard of for a young woman to be taking on a job like this one. Besides—"