The Lass Who Kissed a Frog by Lee, Caroline (bookreader txt) 📕

he’d purposefully snubbed her and had been rude to her while Phineas had tried to smooth the waters of social niceties. But that was before he’d realized who she really was.

She’d said those cruel things about Lyon, aye, but she wasn’t the vain and self-centered bitch he’d assumed.

Now, he followed her around to the rear of the inn. “Ye’ll be safe from here on,” he muttered, more to himself than her.

But she whirled around, and he was startled to realize there were more tear tracks on her cheeks. “I dinnae see why ye should start to worry about that now, milord.”

He reared back. “Yer safety has always been my concern, Vanessa. Why do ye think it was so important for me to go on this journey with ye?”

“How should I ken?” She swiped angrily at her eyes as she backed toward the gate to the kitchen garden. “Perhaps because ye wanted to make me dependent on ye, to fall in love with ye, before ye humiliated me.”

Is that what had happened?

“Nay,” he said quietly, one hand already reaching for her. “Nay, I only wanted to keep ye safe.”

Was that a lie?

“Well, ye failed,” she spit out, her breath catching on a sob. “Because ye couldnae keep me safe from ye.”

She turned and slipped through the gate, but he followed, only to ensure she made it to the door safely, he told himself, but he recognized the lie. He wanted her to turn, to acknowledge him one last time.

She did stop at the door, her shoulders hunched as she dropped her hand to the latch. Silently, he prayed she’d turn, tell him she forgave him.

But of course she didn’t.

When she stepped inside the inn, Roland sighed and acknowledged he’d well and truly lost her.

* * *

If she’d considered it, Vanessa would’ve assumed Mrs. Oliphant, the cook, might’ve been in the kitchen, perhaps joined by Annie or one of the maids.

But she didn’t expect to be confronted by her mother as soon as she slipped inside.

“Where have ye been, young lady?”

The lash of her mother’s fury yanked Vanessa’s gaze to her mother’s face. The baroness was livid, judging from the two bright spots on her cheeks, and she was fully dressed, as if she were ready to face the day.

Or as if she hadn’t gone to sleep yet.

“I’ve made myself ill worrying over ye!” Mother shrieked, stepping around the table to stalk toward Vanessa. “Up half the night, wondering where ye were, and if I could risk yer reputation to call out the men to look for ye! This one would say nothing!” She jerked her thumb, and Vanessa peeked over her shoulder. Behind her, Bonnie hovered near the doorway, wearing her night wrapper, her arms around her middle and looking apologetic.

“I’m fine, Mother,” Vanessa confessed wearily, placing her bag on the table and wondering if she had the energy to unpack it.

“Fine? Fine?” screeched her mother, flapping her hands like some kind of big bird. Her shrill voice added to the simile. “Ye’ve been gone, with little concern for yer mother’s nerves, then waltz in dressed like—like that?” She flapped her hands at Vanessa’s clothing. “Like some kind of peasant? What if someone had seen ye?”

Vanessa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. There’d been a time when her mother’s anger, and her rants, had terrified her. A time, not so long ago, when she’d craved her mother’s compliments and assurances of worth.

But the last few days had changed her, in more ways than one.

“Mother, nae one kenned who I was. I was safe. Ye werenae supposed to find out—”

“Och, I cannae believe ye think I’d be so stupid as to believe that menses excuse. I’m a woman as well, Vanessa! I ken good and well, nae matter how uncomfortable our courses can be, we’re expected to face the world with a smile and pretend our hormones arenae crippling us in pain or making us a big, raging ball of homicidal thoughts!”

Vanessa blinked. “Verra…accurate, Mother.”

“Now, where were ye, young lady?”

I spent the last two and a half days no’ being a young lady.

But Mother wouldn’t want to hear that. She wouldn’t want to hear about any of her realizations or epiphanies on the journey either, or the way Vanessa had had her heart broken.

Again.

So she just sighed and admitted. “I went to Fangfoss Manor in York.” She met Bonnie’s look of hope and had to sadly shake her head. Mother didn’t notice, but Bonnie’s expression carefully shuttered, which told Vanessa she’d understood the adventure had failed.

“Ye went to York,” Mother repeated slowly, icily, “alone.”

“Nay, I had an escort,” Vanessa said without thinking. “His name was—”

The slap took her by surprise.

Her mother rarely raised a hand to her or Bonnie, although Ember had received more than her share of blows. But this slap was the kind which necessitated Mother winding up with her hand over her shoulder, letting go, and whipping Vanessa’s head clear around.

Her cheek burned, and there was a ringing in her ears, but Vanessa didn’t feel any pain. Nay, it was more shock that her mother had just slapped her.

When she was able to blink the room back into focus, she saw that Bonnie was gone—likely up to her room to mourn the lack of money the golden sphaera would bring—and her mother was glaring at her.

Coldly, the baroness hissed, “Ye’ve been away from home for days, Vanessa. And now I learn ye were with a man? Ye ken there’s a word for women like ye. Ye might as well no’ have returned at all if ye were going to shred yer reputation so thoroughly.”

Still stunned, Vanessa shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness in her brain. “Mother, nae one kens—”

“Shut up. Shut up!” Mother was pacing now, waving her hands in agitation. “I’ll no’ allow ye to ruin what I’ve worked so hard to build!”

The inn?

Vanessa’s fingers rose to her warm, swollen cheek. “What’s that, Mother?”

“Yer reputation!” the baroness shrieked, as she whirled back