AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Thank God the wind had picked up and rattled the shutters. When the cold air had snuck past the seams of the wood and ruffled the paper on the desk, Cynthia had looked up in surprise. Her eyes had fallen on the open wardrobe, and the two dresses hanging inside.
Two dresses, one of them more rag than gown at this point.
One pair of boots, scuffed and scarred and leached of whatever color the leather had once held.
One nightdress, one corset, one petticoat, one chemise, one tattered pair of stockings. And one ancient diary upon which she’d pinned all her hopes.
This was what she owned. This was what she would bring to a marriage.
And Nick?
She’d looked slowly around the cold, bare, drafty room.
Nick clearly needed more than what she could offer.
And so, here she was, angry and alone, pacing the perimeter of her tiny chamber, wondering how her plan for a torrid affair had descended to this sad state.
Actually, there was no need to wonder. It was the one thing she’d feared from the start. Gentlemen’s honor.
“Blast it,” she muttered, hitting her palm with her fist. Men and their stupid honor. By God, it would drive her to her grave.
Honor had turned her into a piece of chattel to be given over to any man owed a gambling debt. Now honor would ruin her plans and lull her into becoming a lifelong burden on Nick’s family.
She wouldn’t do it. Nick’s kind of honor could go to hell. She had honor too. And plans. And dreams and desires. She’d wanted something simple and good before she left the only place she’d ever known. She’d been honest about what she wanted, and Nick couldn’t change the rules now.
Crossing her arms, she glared at the door that led to his bedroom. He’d knocked a half-hour before, but she’d ignored him just as he deserved. Was he asleep now? Was he lying there smug in his assumption that she’d fall in line with his honorable plans?
Was he still sleeping in the nude?
Cynthia set her jaw and stripped off her nightdress. She narrowed her eyes and pushed down her stockings.
He could take his honor and stuff it.
Chapter 15
He was just floating into a lovely dream involving Cynthia, a pot of honey, and a set of silk ropes, when a floorboard creaked and snatched him from his fantasy. The sound set off a vibration of fear that traveled through his muscles and snapped him into immediate tension.
“Who’s there?” he barked as he shoved up from the bed.
“It’s me,” a soft voice answered.
Lancaster drew in a deep breath and exhaled all the tension from his body. He could just see the pale glow of her beyond the faint light of the night lamp he’d left burning. “Cyn, are you all right?”
“I’m well, yes.”
“Are you ready to talk?”
“No,” she answered sharply.
He frowned into the darkness. “Are you planning to murder me then?”
“Probably not.” Her voice came closer.
Nick squinted toward the sound as he reached for the lamp. His fingers twisted the knob, pushing the wick a bit higher. Then he swallowed his tongue.
She was nude. Starkly, beautifully nude. And walking right toward him. “No,” he said. “No, absolutely not.”
Her eyes narrowed and she kept coming, breasts bouncing slightly with every step.
