Ruthless by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online Page A

prone to do. But appearances, unfortunately, are not deceiving. You’re an innocent, and you have no more interest in partaking of our unholy pleasures than you do in becoming a holy martyr.”
    â€œIt’s better than rats,” she said frankly.
    Silence, and in the darkness she could only see the gleam in his hard eyes. “Child,” he said faintly, “you unman me. If I am ever in the position where I wish to seduce someone I will simply assure her it’s better than rats.”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t you be in the position of seducing someone?” It was an impertinent question, but she was still oddly light-headed, here in the darkness with him.
    â€œI don’t have to make the effort. They all come to me, sooner or later,” he said simply.
    â€œHow boring,” she observed.
    â€œIndeed.” He reached up behind her to touch something that was out of her line of vision, and a moment later a door opened, and he guided her through.
    It was like stepping into another world. The small salon was warm and cozy—a fire burned in the grate, the walls were covered in pale green silk and the furniture looked sturdy and comfortable. There was no sign of revelers or indeed, any of the kind of jeweled ostentation of the first room she’d been in. No false throne and dais, no gilded walls and cherubed trim. She might as well be in a family drawing room in England.
    â€œThere’s a seat by the fire,” he said as she pulled away from him.
    There was indeed, a large, tufted chair that looked so comfortable she wanted to weep. “Isn’t that yours?”
    â€œMuch as it pains me to tear myself away from you, I have other responsibilities, as well as the party I seem to be hosting,” he said. “My guests will wonder where I’ve gone.”
    â€œI must get home. My mother…”
    â€œWhen your mother is found she’ll be taken back to the city in comfortable accommodations. You will follow, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
    â€œI prefer to go with her.”
    â€œI prefer you to follow. Which of us do you think will triumph?” he said.
    She almost mentioned Lydia. Her younger sister would be panicked if she didn’t return home. Already she must be half-mad with worry.
    But her younger sister was just the sort of toy these libertines would take and destroy. She needed to make certain they knew nothing about her, and if surviving a night of worry was the price for her sister’s safety, then so be it.
    â€œNever see you again?” she said. “You’re fulfilling my wildest dreams.”
    â€œIf those are your wildest dreams then you need to work on them. Mrs. Clarke will be here in a minute. Go get warm.”
    In fact she was freezing to death. Now that the immediate fear had passed, and there was nothing more she could do to salvage the situation, the warmth seemed to have left her body. Her feet in the too-tight shoes were cold and damp, and if she didn’t hold herself very still she’d start shaking. And she bloody well wasn’t going to do that in front of the Antichrist.
    She headed straight for the armchair. It was even more comfortable than it had looked. It seemed to enfold her, and she couldn’t suppress the sigh of sheer delight. She looked up, ready to say something disparaging to her host.
    But he was already gone.

4
    E linor leaned back against the chair, finally alone, trying to regain her balance as the world whirled about her. She’d been in rooms like this, years ago when they’d lived in England. Warm, cozy rooms, with bright fires burning and comfortable, slightly worn furniture.
    Which didn’t make sense. The notorious Francis Rohan was as rich as Croesus, and the ornate glory of the rest of the château attested to that. The red damask upholstery on the sofa opposite her had worn patches, and the floor was scuffed. She must have slipped into some sort of