Lady of Sin by Madeline Hunter Read Free Book Online Page A

am sure it was Lady M.’s speech that moved their hearts.”
    “You are too kind, sir.” Charlotte took both papers. She turned and busied herself with laying them down very neatly. She fussed with arranging the pens and inkwell just so. She fought to quell her jumpy reaction to the masculine power enfolding her.
    An awkward silence developed behind her.
    “I must take my leave,” Bianca said. “I am sure that my husband has called for the coach.” She embraced Charlotte with one arm and moved her face close for a farewell kiss. “You are being rude again, dear. It is not like you and borders on inexcusable,” she whispered.
    That settled her faster than a slap. She
was
being rude, and it was not like her. She collected herself and turned to see Bianca leaving the room.
    Which meant she and Nathaniel Knightridge were alone.
    Nothing changed in his manner or stance. Even his expression remained the same. She sensed an alteration anyway. A quickening in the tempo of time. An alertness in her essence. A myriad of reactions left her vulnerable to a new, essential intimacy flowing between them.
    He remembered their last meeting; she did not doubt it. He had not been inebriated enough the other day to forget. The only question was how much he knew about their prior passion. Her conversation with Lyndale had not reassured her as she had hoped, but left the matter ambiguous.
    She swallowed her discomfort on that point, and found some grace. “Thank you for attending, Mr. Knightridge. Your aid was most welcome.”
    “Since you made such a special request, I could not refuse.”
    That certainly made it plain that he remembered. Nor was he going to pretend he did not. She thought that ungallant of him.
    “I have heard that you agreed to prosecute John Finley,” she said, thinking it best to speak of something other than the events surrounding that special request.
    “That is true.”
    “I do not think you ever served as prosecuting counsel before.”
    “I made an exception this time. It was the least I could do as an apology to you. One is due, for my bad behavior when we last met.”
    He appeared sincere. There was not the slightest gloat or insinuation in his expression.
    He was doing this for her, to make amends. That disarmed her. It also increased the aura of intimacy binding them.
    “If my ignoble retreat from your home secured your talents on Mardenford’s behalf, I suppose I can overcome the embarrassment.”
    “It was not your departure for which I sought to make amends, but your arrival. I realized later it was a very kind gesture to seek me out. A month had passed since the trial, and I do not think anyone else remembered what the day meant. For them, Binchley was dead already. His story had become a fading broadside. I regret that I did not appreciate your sympathy and instead treated you rudely when you arrived.”
    A familiar irritation poked at her composure. He was drawing some rather peculiar lines in this apology.
    “I do not mean to be ungracious, but I would think that if apologies are due at all, the latter part of my visit requires them more than the earlier events.”
    “I disagree.”
    She lowered her voice to a tight whisper. “Mr. Knightridge, perhaps your condition left you too befuddled to grasp what occurred. I visited you for the reasons you say, and you importuned me.”
    “I think that you are exaggerating.”
    “Exaggerating? You forced yourself on me, to be plain about it. I came close to being compromised due to behavior of yours that, in its badness, far exceeded your rudeness upon my arrival.”
    “I do not remember it quite that way.”
    “Since we have started down this sorry path, allow me to refresh your memory. You—”
    “My memories are very fresh, thank you. Remarkably vivid. In particular, I remember a woman in my arms who was well pleased, and very eager.”
    Her mouth fell open. She glanced past him to be sure no one had entered the room to overhear. “Mr.