Never Resist Temptation by Miranda Neville Read Free Book Online Page B

triumphant. “You’re to go and pack. You’re leaving today.”
    He was throwing her out.
    â€œWhy?” It was the only thought she could utter.
    â€œI have found a position for you.” His slack lips curled nastily.
    A position? For a moment Jacobin was glad. Glad to get away from Hurst Park and out of her uncle’s power. But relief gave way to suspicion as she considered what kind of position he meant. It seemed unlikely thatanyone would hire her as a governess. Although more than capable of fulfilling the academic requirements of such a post, she was—thanks to Candover—without the feminine accomplishments that gently bred parents expected their daughters to master. Latin, Greek, and a thorough acquaintance with French intellectual thought were not useful qualifications for a young woman seeking employment.
    â€œWhat kind of position?” she asked.
    He gave a crack of laughter. “On your back!”
    She wasn’t too naïve to understand the inference.
    â€œLord Storrington is taking you,” Candover continued. “I had nothing left to wager, so I staked you instead. And lost.”
    â€œHe wants to marry me?” Jacobin inquired cautiously, unwilling to believe in the more obvious meaning of his words.
    Candover’s laughter was ugly and without humor. “Marriage? To a worthless French slut? You flatter yourself. You’ll be lucky if he sets you up as his mistress instead of taking a quick tumble and throwing you into the gutter as you deserve.”
    â€œ Non! Jamais! ” she cried, breaking into her native French as tended to happen when her emotions were kindled. “ C’est infâme, vil. Vous n’êtes qu’un macquereau immonde. ”
    Her uncle hated her speaking French, though he understood the language well enough.
    â€œCall me a dirty pimp, by all means,” he sneered. “Knowing such names merely proves what you deserve.You’re no better than a whore so you might as well be one.”
    â€œI am of age,” she said carefully, reverting to English. “You can’t make me do it. You can throw me out of your house but you can’t control my actions. I’d rather starve than agree to such a disgusting arrangement.” Beneath a veneer of calm, panic churned. Without a penny to her name and deprived of even her uncle’s un-loving protection, her future was precarious.
    Candover rose to his feet. His body was grotesquely swollen despite the corsets that strove to confine his massive belly. He lumbered toward her and took her arm in a painful grip.
    â€œYou could leave here and go to hell your own way—if you could escape me. No, my dear niece”—his sneer intensified—“I promised you to Storrington and I’m a man of my word. A gentleman never reneges on a wager.”
    Jacobin spat in his face. “Some gentleman! My father was a gentleman. You are a filthy pig,” she hissed.
    Tightening his hold on her arm, he raised his other hand and slapped her face, hard. “Give me—or your new master—any trouble and I’ll sell you to a bordello. At least I’d get a few hundred pounds for you and be rid of your accursed presence to boot.”
    Her uncle’s eyes were filled with a kind of madness beyond anger and inebriation. Jacobin wanted to cry out her hurt, to ask why Candover found his closest living relative a curse, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cower.
    Nursing her stinging cheek, she managed to retort through a rising tide of terror, “You can’t force me. There’s no slavery in England.”
    â€œSee this bell rope?” he said, reaching for the tapestry pull. “One ring and my valet will come. He knows you’ve been—difficult—and is prepared to tie you up and escort you to my carriage. After that you will be driven to London and delivered to Lord Storrington—unless