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Chapter 8

The next ainst her pillows The Italian diary is at her side, but she has not picked it up

She has relived the kiss in her mind approximately forty-two times

In fact, she is reliving it right now:

Hyacinth would have liked to think that she would be the sort of woman who could kiss with aplo had happened She’d have liked to think when the tientleman ell-deserved disdain, that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, her eyes would be perfect chips of ice, and she would e a cut direct with style and flair

And in her iination, she did all of that and more

Reality, however, had not been so sweet

Because when Gareth had said her na her back to hi she could think to do was run

Which was not, she had assured herself, for what had to be the forty-third ti with her character

It couldn’t be She couldn’t let it be She was Hyacinth Bridgerton

Hyacinth

Bridgerton

Surely that had toOne kiss could not turn her into a senseless ninny

And besides, it wasn’t the kiss The kiss hadn’t bothered her The kiss had, in fact, been rather nice And, to be honest, long overdue

One would think, in her world, a her society, that she would have taken pride in her untouched, never-been-kissed status After all, the h to ruin a woman’s reputation