from which there was no return. . . All in the hope of just feeling a moment’s peace or joy, or kindness.
He drew in a slow breath, nodded at Angus to serve his usual. Then he approached Lady Rosamund as if she were an animal that might either roll on her back purring or turn vicious, all claws. One never knew, given that she’d taken this extreme step of tracking him down. And he had no doubts that this was what this was about.
There was no other reason for her to be here, perched so excitedly, watching his every move.
He lowered himself into the chair opposite her, sitting in an ungentlemanly way. He allowed his legs to part slightly, his arm to rest on the chair back, and his boot to extend seductively close to her own booted foot.
He needed a new tack. Shoving her away was not working.
“So,” he drawled. “You’re a drunkard.”
“Excuse me?” she exclaimed, her shoulders squaring.
“What else is a fellow to assume?” he asked casually, eyeing her slowly. “A woman in a tavern. Or else are you putting up business?”
“What?” she fairly shouted.
“Ah.” He waggled his brows at her. “You know to what I’m referring. I’m a trifle surprised.”
There it was again. She wiggled slightly on her chair, an air of indignation stiffening her spine. “I am not without some worldly knowledge, mon.”
He leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees. “Then you know that to be here is a scandal. It’s more than a scandal. It’s a bloody outrage.”
Her indignation vanished, replaced with a sigh of delight.
“Is it?” she asked. A pleased look pinkened her pale features. “I’ve never been an outrage before. Every woman should be at least once in her life I think.”
He groaned. Oh God. Why was this happening to him? It had been years since he’d dealt with a virgin trying to toss herself into sin. Except. . . Except. . . This time, despite everything, the problem was he desperately wanted to assist her in her quest.
But wants and needs were different things and he needed her the hell out of this pub and away from him forever.
“I realize this is all terribly thrilling for you,” he said with as much condescension as he could manage, “innocent that you are.”
She opened her mouth as if to protest but then she nodded firmly. “It’s true. It is thrilling. I am innocent. You’re correct.”
“Good,” he said tightly, unable to come up with a suitable quip, he was so stunned by her reply. “I’m glad you agree. Now, get out.”
She grinned. “No. I find I like a bit of a thrill.”
Angus approached wordlessly and shoved a glass at Derek without his customary chat.
Derek took it and then drained it to the dregs. And whilst he gulped, he contemplated.
Warnings weren’t working. Reason wasn’t working. Disdain wasn’t working.
Rosamund, to absolutely no surprise given their previous meeting, was not behaving as most ladies did.
This was going to be a challenge. He was going to have to shock her from the tips of her, no doubt, perfect toes to her fiery hair. Because at this point, the only way to make her stay away from him had nothing to do with polite discourse.
“Lady Rosamund, are you a fool?” he asked quietly.
Instead of hurt, she batted her lashes and replied as simply as he’d asked, “I don’t think so.”
One last chance. He had to give reason one last chance. After all, he liked her. He didn’t savor the idea of rattling her.
“Then if you are a woman of intelligence, you will put your drink down. You will rise from your chair. You will leave this place and never come back. You will never seek me out again.”
She sat up a little straighter. “I am intelligent but I also have a cause and I shan’t be disloyal to my own cause.”
“And that is?”
She leaned forward and whispered, “Ruination.”
He stared, wishing he had another drink. Had she heard nothing?
Rosamund let out a plaintive sigh and shrugged her shoulders. “If you won’t give
Learning to Kill: Stories