Lions and Lace by Meagan McKinney Read Free Book Online Page A

and it only inflamed him further. "All my plans are ruined by this! What good are you when all the people I've tried to impress are ruined too? What's left for me? You and your goddamned costumes have cost me my last gold ten piece , and now I haven't anything to show for my investment!"
    "I am not an investment!" she retorted angrily. "These gowns were bought with my money. My money, do you hear?"
    He grabbed her. A guttural cry escaped her lips before he shook her violently. "But you haven't any money now, Alana! Shall you try a week on the streets at Gotham Court and see how you like that?"
    She pulled away. If he could, he would have hurt her, but this time she vowed to do anything she could to stop him. Prying his fingers from her, she couldn't stop herself from saying, "If I haven't any money, then I'll no longer need you telling me what I must do. Leave, then. I demand that you leave!"
    Furious, Didier raised his hand to strike her, but she refused to flinch, even blink. She couldn't struggle from his strong hold, but even though he could hurt her physically, her spirit, astonishingly, remained unbroken.
    Her defiance made him falter but only until her words registered. Then a wild glint appeared in his eyes, and he lowered his hand. He took in her rich, luxurious clothing and released a laugh. The sound chilled her to the bone. Before she could guess what he was thinking, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the parlor doors. He shoved them aside and dragged her through the foyer to the front door.
    "What are you doing?" she cried out, becoming hysterical.
    "I'll tell you what to do, all right! One last time, you'll do as I bid, and I'll get even with you and that rag-picking Irisher !"
    "What are thinking of?" she gasped, fighting to keep the front door closed.
    Without warning, he stepped toward her and ripped the strands of creamy pink pearls from her chignon. She moaned from the pain, but he ignored her. The costly pearls went into his pockets, and he dragged her out the door into the rain, her flaxen hair swirling freely around her like a milkmaid's.
    "You must be mad!" she cried, drowning in the cold pelting rain.
    "You want to appeal to Sheridan's better nature?" Didier grunted, dragging her to the street. "Fine, then. Go ahead. Now's the time. He's ruined me, and I can't afford you anymore. So let him take care of you!"
    "This is insanity!" She grasped at any straw. "You're the one who will be hurt by more scandal! If you continue with this behavior, my reputation will mean nothing! Your business dealings will die!"
    Her uncle didn't react. As if he weren't listening, he pulled her down the brownstone's stairs and out to the curb to look for a hired hack .
    He was beyond reasoning, so she again tried to free herself, believing if she could just get back to the house, perhaps Kevin would help her. But in her struggle to get free she slipped on the wet cobbles and fell bruisingly against him. She looked up. The rain was coming down in dark, blurring torrents, but his eyes still had the power to hold her.
    "You and Christabel ruined everything for me," he hissed. "God, how I've wanted you both off my back these three years since your parents were killed. I've tried to be patient—tried to hold on. No longer. No longer!" He shook her hard. "Without any more money, you're ruined, no matter what I do now. My last connection with the Knickerbockers is gone, so it's just that the final humiliation should be yours and Sheridan's!" He stared down at her, his gaze, brilliant in the refracting light of the rain-covered streetlamps, pinning her in place like a doe frightened by the sudden flare of a torch.
    "Don't do this," she said, her face porcelain-pale. "Don't humiliate me like this. I'll never forgive you."
    A lone hack turned the corner onto Washington Square. Didier glanced its way and rasped, "With that money gone, I haven't a hope in hell. You'll do as I say."
    Panicked, she suddenly possessed the strength to