Surrender The Night by Colleen Shannon Read Free Book Online Page A

pocket.
    “Give this to the butler, Peter, with my regards. Tell him I’ve come to collect Miss Lawson’s things, that she’ll be staying with me for a while.”
    Her eyes, widening with dawning horror, settled upon him. His features had never been more perfect, more ruthless, or more cold. He might have been masked, for he showed no hint of human kindness or remorse.
    The night’s events exploded upon her. Dazed, she blinked at him, all the more afraid now that her brief reassurance had been snatched away. “No, please, I don’t deserve this,” she whispered.
    “Do you not? Then I shall remember to make my gifts suitable to your sense of worth.” When she drew breath to scream, he covered her mouth with his palm. He pulled her struggling arms behind her back with his free hand and added matter-of-factly, “I needn’t explain that this will indeed be your last position. Of this sort, at any rate. After word of your new venue reaches the ton, no respectable woman will have you in her house.”
    When she went limp, his eyes sharpened upon hers. “Don’t treat me to these die-away airs, my girl. You couldn’t have kept your, er, nocturnal activities secret much longer, anyway. You’ll find me more generous than Sutterfield. Just give me the passion I know you stifle. You’ll remember how much you want me, after you’ve calmed down.”
    His words were a buzz in her ears. She shivered, so enervated by the repeated shocks of this night that she stayed lim p, fighting nausea and weakness, until the carriage bounced as her bags were put in the back. Soon they were tooling away, the yellow wheels chattering upon the cobblestones like lecturing voices chiding her for stupidity. On she went, deeper into the blackest night she’d ever known, a demon her only companion. . . .
     

                                                       
     
                                                                          Chapter Two
    The short drive was an eternity. Even when Devon cautiously let her go and sat back next to her, she stayed curled in a ball in the comer. Her head lolled on her shoulders when he caught her elbows to pull her to a sitting position.
    “We’ve arrived, Kat. This late no one will notice if you treat me to a scene. Please, come along quietly.” If she heard him, she gave no sign.
    When the coachman opened the door, Devon jumped down without using the steps and lifted her into his arms. He drew a sigh of relief when she didn’t protest. A mobcapped maid had already opened the house door to the coachman’s knock. In a trice Devon had her up the three semicircular steps, into the small but attractive brick house trimmed with ornate black wrought-iron balconies on each of its two floors.
    “Light the candles in the salon, Martha,” he ordered.
    After she’d quickly obeyed, he carried Katrina into the room that was an elegant blend of blue and spring green. The sprigged silk wallpaper was complemented by flower- embroidered cushions on the indigo settees. The carpet was decked with raised daisies and gold tulips. Knickknacks sat here and there on graceful Sheraton tables. A Sheraton secretary stood opposite the marble-pilastered fireplace. After seating Katrina on the settee, Devon went to the secretary and opened its central door.
    He said over his shoulder, ‘ ‘Fetch Billy to me, please, Peter. Tell him he’s to stand guard in the hall throughout the night. No one is to enter—or leave. Then you may retire here in the quarters. Martha, see that the gold room is prepared for the night, then you may go back to sleep. I’m sorry to so abruptly descend upon you.”
    Martha dipped a curtsy, holding her full robe back from her slippered feet. “Yer ludship, ’tis a pleasure to see this pretty ’ouse used at last—” Those keen brown eyes cut her words off. She bobbed another hasty