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and all he’d had to do was turn and walk away.
Instead he’d scooped her up like some bloody romantic hero, carried her back here and abandoned her.
And all he’d had to do was see Christopher St. John standing at the edge of the crowd, watching them, to know just how far along the road to disaster he’d come.
If he thought he could make it he’d head straight for London. He even started in that direction, when the ugly truth hit, and hit him hard.
He’d fallen in love with her. He, who didn’t believe in love, had been seduced by a slip of a girl, his wings clipped, his locks shorn, his entire life now centered on a woman. Bloody hell.
Clearly he’d been a fool to underestimate her. But now that the illness was diagnosed, the cure was simple. He’d get rid of her. Send her back to London, or off to the continent. Maybe even to his estates in Jamaica, where he could forget all about her existence. He certainly couldn’t continue on like this. He’d marry her first, just to ensure she was taken care of, and then he’d do his best never to see her again. She’d like that.
He wheeled around, heading back toward Pawlfrey House. He was a lot of things, a lot of terrible things, but he wasn’t a coward. By the time he reached home the sun was bright overhead, glinting off the lake like the diamonds Jacob had stolen. If he didn’t get rid of her there’d be no more of that, he thought morosely, handing the reins to the groom and charging him to give his hard-used roan an extra measure of grain. No more skulking around in the darkness, no more Heavenly Host, thank God. They’d always been tedious, though he’d enjoyed the sex. But all the determined depravity had begun to pall, and their little rituals were ridiculous.
Right now he wanted sex with no one but Miranda, and he had the depressing feeling that it was always going to be the case. Sending her across the ocean was the only cure.
He took the steps two at a time, determined to find her before he could think better of it, heading straight for her rooms on the third floor. To his astonishment the door was actually locked.
Author: Anne Stuart
This moldy old place had more than its share of antique armaments, and a complete suit of arms stood at the end of the hall. He strode down to it, picked up the battle-ax and headed back to Miranda’s door. One solid whack and the door splintered, the doorknob crushed at his feet.
He pushed inside, then slammed it behind him. Without a latch it immediately swung back and hit him in the bum, so he grabbed a chair and shoved it against it.
Then turned to advance on her.
Miranda woke up with a start, pulling the covers up to her neck like some silly virgin as she stared at Lucien. He stood inside her doorway, holding a battle-ax, and she wondered for a moment if he was going to kill her. She didn’t care.
He dropped the ax, trying to be casual, and came toward the bed. “Your door was locked,” he said unnecessarily.
“Against you,” she pointed out in an even tone.
“Well, you see how much good that did. ”
She should simper and smile, but that ability had vanished the moment he’d left her to that horrid little man in the goat mask. She glared at him. “What do you want?”
“To talk. ”
“Well, I don’t wish to. ” There was none of the cloyingly flirtatious lover now. The mask had dropped.
“I thought I was your darling, your true love?” he said, taking one of the delicate chairs and lounging in it, for all the world like a man in his mistress’s bedchamber. Well, she wasn’t his mistress and she never would be.
Her face stayed grim. “You’re an evil, treacherous, degenerate monster, just as you always told me you were. Go away. ”
“I saved you,” he pointed out.
“God knows why. By the way, I’m afraid you’ve lost one of your prize pieces of armament. I stole a dagger from the Roundhead collection and left it behind. ”
He looked amused. “No, you didn’t. I took it from beneath the pillow and had it placed in the coach ahead of time. ”
Her eyes narrowed. “You knew I had it?”
“Of course. ”
“I should have stabbed you when I had the chance. ”
He smiled at that. Bad move.
“If you don’t go away I’ll scream. ”
