Blood Bank by Tanya Huff Read Free Book Online Page B

corpse-gray eyes isolated him from the society his wealth and title gave him access to. Could he be taking revenge against those who shunned him by selling secrets to the French? Perhaps. This was not the time, nor the place, for forcing an answer.
    Treading a careful path around a cluster of turbaned dowagers—more dangerous amass than a crowd of angry peasants with torches and pitchforks—Henry made his way to the side of a young man he knew from White's and asked for an introduction to Mr. Maxwell Aubrey.
    "Good lord, Henry, whatever for?"
    Henry smiled disarmingly. "I hear he's a damnably bad card player."
    "He is, but if you think to pluck him, you're a year too late or two years too early. He doesn't come into his capital until he's twenty-five and after the chicken incident, his trustees keep a tight hold of the purse strings."
    "Chicken incident?"
    "That's right. It happened before you came to London. You see, Aubrey fell in with this fellow named Bouchard."
    "Yves Bouchard?"
    "That's right. Anyway, Bouchard had Aubrey wrapped around his little finger. Dared him to cluck like a chicken in the middle of the dance floor. I thought Mrs. Drummond-Burrell was going to have spasms. Neither Bouchard nor Aubrey were given vouchers for the rest of the Season."
    "And this Season?"
    He nodded at Aubrey who was leading his partner off the dance floor. "This Season, all is forgiven."
    "And Bouchard?" Henry asked.
    "Bouchard, too. Although he doesn't seem to be here tonight."
    "So Aubrey was wrapped around Bouchard's little finger. Wrapped tightly enough to spy for the French? Henry wondered.
    The return of a familiar voice diverted his attention. He turned to see Sir William once again paying court to Carmilla. When she giggled and looked away, it only seemed to inspire Sir William the more. Henry moved closer until he could hear her protests. She sounded both flattered and frightened.
    Now that's a combination impossible to resist, Henry thought, watching Wyndham respond. With a predator's fluid grace, he deftly inserted himself between them. "I believe this dance is mine." When Carmilla giggled but made no objection, there was nothing Wyndham could do but quietly seethe.
    Once on the floor, Henry smiled down into cornflower blue eyes. "I hope you'll forgive me for interfering, Miss Amworth, but Sir William's attentions seemed to be bothering you."
    She dropped her gaze to the vicinity of his waistcoat. "Not bothering, but a bit overwhelming. I'm glad of the chance to gather my thoughts."
    "I feel I should warn you that he has a bad reputation."
    "He is a very accomplished flirt."
    "He is a confirmed rake, Miss Amworth."
    "Do you think he is more than merely flirting, then?" Her voice held a hint of hope.
    Immortality, Henry mused, would not provide time enough to understand women. Granted, Sir William had been blessed with darkly sardonic good looks and an athletic build, but he was also—the possibility of his being a spy aside—an arrogant, self-serving libertine. Some women were drawn to that kind of danger; he had not thought Carmilla Amworth to be one of them. His gaze dropped to the pulse beating at an ivory temple, and he wondered just how much danger she dared to experience.
    Obviously aware that she should be at least attempting conversation, she took a deep breath and blurted, "I heard you saved Captain Evans last night."
    Had everyone heard about it? Varney would not be pleased. "It was nothing."
    "My maid says that he was set upon by robbers and you saved his life."
    "Servants' gossip."
    A dimple appeared beside a generous mouth. "Servants usually know."
    Considering his own servant, Henry had to admit the truth of that.
    "Were they robbers?"
    "I didn't know you were so bloodthirsty, Miss Amworth." When she merely giggled and shook her head, he apologized and added, "I don't know what they were. They ran off as I approached."
    "Surely Captain Evans knew."
    "If he did, he didn't tell me."
    "It must have been so