A Seduction at Christmas by Cathy Maxwell Read Free Book Online Page B

aware from the very beginning he wasn’t like the soldiers who had attacked her.
    In fact, she was relieved she could tell the difference, and that their brutality hadn’t destroyed the will to be close to a man. That didn’t mean she trusted easily.
    The duke stopped his terrible retching. He leaned one shoulder against a building’s brick wall as if exhausted. His back was to her.
    She approached him, daring to say, “What can I do to help?”
    “Nothing,” he said in a guttural voice. It probably hurt his throat to speak.
    Fiona moved close enough to place her hand on his back, but she didn’t. She knew better than to touch him right now. “I’m sorry.”
    His reaction was so quick, it caught her off guard.
    He turned and flattened her against the brick wall with his hand on her chest. His face close tohers, his eyes burning with sickness, he said, “When I recover, you’ll pay for what you’ve done.”
    Before Fiona could respond, his hand dropped away. His body started heaving again. He turned, collapsing at the waist, attempting to fight off the inevitable.
    She watched in indecision. Here was her chance to escape, but she couldn’t leave him like this. She had to return him to the coach and then she’d let the driver take care of him. She glanced back at where the hack waited and was shocked to see it was gone.
    The driver hadn’t waited for them.
    Bitterly, she realized she had only herself to blame. She shouldn’t have told the driver about the money. It was the sort of mistake no one made twice in London.
    The duke had sunk to the ground as if too exhausted to stand. He rubbed his head, his movements weak. Murdering Irishmen aside, the city was no place for the defenseless, and Fiona had seen enough violence this night to last her a good long while.
    She pushed her heavy hair back over her shoulders and quickly braided it into a plait to keep it out of her way. There was nothing else she could do but take care of the duke. He’d notthank her for it, but at least her conscience would be clear.
    Of course, there was the tricky problem of his blaming her for all of this.
    She’d deal with that later.
    Right now, she had no choice but to take the duke home with her. Putting up with his foul temper would be her penance.
    Kneeling beside him, she said, “Excuse me, Your Grace, can you stand?”
    He was too far gone to respond. He was also alarmingly pale, even in the alley’s shadows, and his breathing shallow.
    Fiona lifted his arm over her shoulders. “I’m going to help you to your feet.”
    Holburn raised his lids enough to give her an accusing stare.
    “I know it’s my fault,” Fiona said. “You’ve made that clear. Now, come along. We’ve no choice but to go forward.”
    To her relief, he managed to rise, using the wall for support. She took his arm, put it around her shoulders. “Lean on me, Your Grace,” she said. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”
    He made no response.
    Their movements were awkward as they walked toward the street. Holburn could barelyplace one foot in front of the other, although he kept going.
    Fiona took stock of her surroundings and was relieved to realize they weren’t that far from where she lived. “Come along, Your Grace. It won’t be far.”
    They moved like two drunkards. Holburn’s steps grew slower and heavier as they went. Fiona whispered words of encouragement. She was thankful he didn’t have another bout of sickness. She prayed the worst was past.
    Her building was pitch black inside. The people who lived here could not afford to waste money on candles and the landlord, Mr. Simon, would never provide them. However, Fiona had never been so happy to reach anyplace in her life. At least, now, she didn’t have to worry about the streets or the Irishmen.
    She felt her way across the front hall. Four steps and then her toe hit the bottom tread of the staircase. “Your Grace, we must climb two flights of stairs.”
    He didn’t respond; however,