Lions and Lace by Meagan McKinney Read Free Book Online

recovered from that knowledge when another terrible thought overcame her. "Oh God, how shall we take care of Christabel ?" she whispered.
    Didier's grasp tightened. "Forget about Christabel . She can go to the state. I want to know what you are going to do. You owe me, Alana."
    She looked up at him, knowing she had never seen him so enraged. "What are you talking about?" she gasped.
    "Your expensive upkeep! Those clothes! This house! Who do you think has seen to these things all these years! "
    "That was your job. I had a trust fund for these things," she answered, a wary expression on her face.
    He grew purple with anger. "I had control of that fund, and if it had been my choice, I would have taken the entire thing and left you and that loon of a sister of yours by the wayside!"
    She couldn't hide her shock. "How can you say such a thing? You had a duty—"
    "Duty be damned!" He let go of her chin. With the force of his release, she fell backward. He leaned close, and his voice was ominous. "It was to my advantage to keep you in society. So I paid for the pretty things you wear and see around you now. But now I've nothing. Do you understand me? Nothing! You owe me for being so charitable!"
    She stared up at him, truly believing he'd gone mad. His words made no sense. While it was true she had never liked her uncle, until the night of the ball, she had done her best to think well of him, mostly because of Christabel . After the fire it was her uncle who had held things together. He had been the one to find the "country estate" for her sister. He'd even talked to the police. But the man who towered over her now had no redeeming characteristics at all. Whatever goodness there had ever been in him was truly gone.
    "I owe you nothing, Uncle," she said numbly. "Our parents provided for my sister and me, and provided well." She stood. "We've had a tragedy here tonight. But this isn't solving it. I must ask you to return to your hotel."
    He swung his arm around her torso, and she felt every rib being squeezed to cracking. "You speak so well and so haughtily, but tell me how you're going to rise above this, Alana. Tell me how this fine little Knickerbocker is going to like sweeping streets to keep food in her mouth."
    She wanted to beat him. With clenched teeth, she said, "Let go."
    "You are the cause of all this!" He shook her.
    "Not I! I wanted to go to that ball!"
    "I did the right thing! How did I know Sheridan would do this?"
    "Well, he has done it, and perhaps there's some good to come of this." She shot him a look of contempt. "I see you now, Uncle, for the vile creature I've always suspected you were. So leave me alone and never come here again."
    He laughed. "And how will you get along?"
    "Tomorrow I shall speak to Mr. Sheridan and make him see reason. He cannot mean me harm when I've meant him no harm. I met his sister, Mara. I didn't want to see her hurt."
    Didier stared at her for a moment. "You think that potato picker's going to have mercy? And why on you, Alana? Don't you think to get back their millions, they'd all claim they were going to attend Sheridan's ball?" His eyes inventoried her finery: the Worth gown, the matching beaded slippers, the Dutch West India Company pearls. Disgust plain on his face, he pulled her to her feet. "How are you going to convince him? Shall you go in the expensive attire I've bought you and prostitute yourself?"
    His words, his very being, disgusted her. Unwilling to address such a loathsome question, she pried his fingers from her bare arms.
    "How will you convince him?"
    "I shall appeal to his better nature."
    "Sheridan has none."
    "He must if he cares so deeply for his sister," she said, her voice cracking.
    "But not for you, Alana. He'll have no mercy on you." With that, he pushed her back onto the settee. His hand pulled agitatedly on his Van Dyke beard, and he began cursing. "I've spent a fortune keeping you up. Is this why I did it? To be a pauper?" He looked at her gown again,