AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Why couldn’t he return from the dead fat, bald, and wrinkled? Why did he have to explode his way back into her life like some fallen angel: all fire and ice and brutal good looks? On top of that, did he truly expect her to swoon at his feet just as if he’d never left? Never abandoned her all those years ago?
Fool that she was, that’s exactly what she’d been about to do. One
more second in his dangerous presence and she’d have crumbled.
She descended the steps to the second floor. Tiptoed down the corridor to her bedchamber.
“Douglas has agreed, Grand-mère.”
Miss Roseingrave. Madame Arana. Their voices coming from the chamber beside hers, the door ajar.
Dismissing her ill manners as necessary, Elisabeth crept closer. If Brendan wouldn’t tell her what was going on, she’d find another way to gain the information. Besides, if they’d not wanted eavesdroppers, they should have made sure the door was shut properly.
“And Mademoiselle Fitzgerald?” Madame Arana asked.
“As it stands, Douglas has ruined her. Among her kind, such a scandal will be all but impossible to overcome.”
Not that she hadn’t known it before, but to hear it spoken so casually sent panic fluttering up from Elisabeth’s stomach into her throat. Inhaling deeply, she pushed the fear away. She would deal with the aftermath . . . after.
“That may be, ma minette, but I begin to believe there is a purpose behind her presence.”
“She’s Duinedon, Grand-mère. What possible help could she give?”
“In this fight, we do not know what will be the most useful bow in our quiver.”
There was that word again—fight. What on earth could she do in a battle where magic gained and lost all? Helena was right. Elisabeth was just Duinedon, though for the first time the realization didn’t comfort her as it had in the past.
“You said yourself the visions are unclear and cast all in riddles,” Helena challenged. “Could it be it’s not the Sight guiding you but your enjoyment of a houseful of guests?”
A raspy chuckle followed. “You do not go out as you used to. The invitations. The calling cards. I see them come, Helena, yet you shut yourself away. It has been a year, ma minette. Grieve, yes, but do you think he would have wanted you to stop living?”
Holding her breath, Elisabeth leaned closer in anticipation of the answer.
Below her, a door closed, steps crossed the corridor.
Someone was coming.
Scurrying the final steps to her bedchamber, Elisabeth closed her door. Leaned back against the panels, catching her breath. Helena’s declaration pounding in her head with every beat of her heart.
Ruined.
Helena was right. That future no longer existed. There would be no marriage. No life in London. No glittering parties or magnificent balls. Gordon would have to be mad to wed her after this. That, or madly in love. He’d never been either one of those things.
Ruined.
She waited for the panic to flood through her once more. Nothing.
Instead, the spark of an idea burst forth. An incredible idea. A ridiculous idea. An idea with disaster written all over it.
But then again, what choice did a ruined woman have?
twelve
“Let me make absolutely certain I understand you.” Brendan tapped a finger against his chin as he paced back and forth across her carpet. He’d been engaged thusly for almost a full half hour.
“For heaven’s sake, Brendan, you’ve been going round and round forever. It’s not alchemy. I’m not asking you to turn iron into gold. Merely turn a lady of easy virtue into an honest woman.”
“Iron into gold . . . easier,” he muttered under his breath.
