“I prefer a phantom,” she heard him say, his voice retreating as her steps echoed on the stairs. “Or a ghost.”
“You’d have to be scarier to be a ghost,” she said contemptuously. She reached the top of the stairs and looked to her right. The thin balcony circled all the way around the library, but in the shadow, it was hard to make out anything.
“Looking for me?” a voice murmured right behind her, and once again, Rosalie nearly screamed. Instead, stifling her scream, she whipped around, only to find herself looking up at Nathan Goldwin, Duke of Carramere.
The Beast of Carramere.
“You!” she gasped as she stared up into the cool smile and gleaming amber eyes of her brother-in-law’s cousin. “I haven’t seen you in?—”
“Two years,” Nathan finished for her. “Yes. I’ve been… busy.”
Rosalie narrowed her eyes. When she’d first met Nathan, he’d been affable enough. But in the last two years, both his olderbrother and his father had died, and he had gone from being a seldom-mentioned second son to being the most gossiped-about man in theton.
Nor was it good gossip.
“You really shouldn’t wander into dark corners with strangers, Rosalie,” he said now, his voice silky and low, and Rosalie felt a shiver go down her spine that she didn’t fully understand.
She put her free hand on her hip and tried to act unmoved. “You’re not a stranger. You’re James’ cousin, and we’ve met many times.”
“That was years ago,” he said dismissively, taking a step towards her. “Back then, you were still a girl. But now you are a young woman, out in Society, and it will be very bad for you if you are found to be alone with gentlemen of a certain… reputation.”
As he came closer, the candlelight showed him more clearly, and she became intensely aware of how high his cheekbones were and how sharp and strong his jaw and long, aquiline nose were. She had never noticed, either, how tall he was or how rakishly his black hair fell in front of his eyes.
“Then perhaps you should leave,” Rosalie suggested with more bravery than she felt.
Truthfully, there was a strange feeling in her chest that was making her heart beat rapidly and the back of her neck start to sweat. This must be fear, surely…
“I was here first,” he argued, and she saw the flicker of a coy smile cross his lips. “Perhapsyoushould leave.”
“This is my sister’s home,” she pointed out.
“And my cousin’s.”
Rosalie felt the breath catch in her throat. Was she flirting with Nathan? Was he flirting with her? She couldn’t be sure. Ever since the incident with Mr. Cain, she had been too frightened of most men to flirt with them.
Nathan stepped closer to her, and he reached up a hand as if to touch her face. However, he stopped right before his fingers actually grazed her skin.
“Run along now, little bird,” he breathed. “Back to your sisters, where it’s safe.”
Rosalie’s mouth had gone very dry. His fingers were so close to her that she could feel the heat coming off of him. She had never felt so small and so vulnerable in all her life, yet that very thing made her feel as if her body were buzzing. She almostlikedthis feeling.
And that’s what scared her most.
She didn’t want to feel this way—not when she’d spent her whole life longing for a man who made her feel safe and striving to avoid any men that reminded her of her father and how scared he’d always made her feel.
“You’re quivering,” the Duke said—because now, he was no longerNathan, he was the Duke of Carramere, the Beast of Carramere. She could see it now, his ability to be frightening and alluring all at once, and she understood why all the gossip columns couldn’t stop writing obsessively about him.
“I-I have to go,” she stammered. She tripped over herself going backwards but managed to keep her balance. Then she was turning and walking, as quickly as she could, back along the balcony then down the stairs, careful to balance the candle even as she hurried faster and faster. Behind her, she thought she heard the Duke laugh again.
Finally, she was down the stairs then she was flat-out running across the hardwood floor. Every instinct in her was screaming at her to flee, to get as far away from the Beast of Carramere as possible.
And then?—
Her foot slipped.
Her stomach lurched.
She was falling.
