Susan Carroll by The Painted Veil Read Free Book Online

gate.”
    “1 was distressed because I had become lost
in the dark. I ended up at your doorstep by mistake and now I wish
you would simply forget you ever saw me there. I assure you, I was
doing nothing wrong.”
    “I never supposed that you were, Lady
Sorrow.”
    “Good. That's settled then. We may go back to
the house.”
    She started to slip past him, but he caught
her wrist, His grip was light but she still had the panicky
sensation of some woodland creature hopelessly ensnared.
    “Why are you in such a hurry, my lady? Do I
frighten you so much?'
    “Yes! No. That is ...” She faltered,
struggling for possession of her hand.
    “Alas, my black reputation. Tell me. What
sort of dreadful gossip have you heard?'
    “Nothing. It is not the gossip so much as my
own impression of you.”
    “Which is?'
    “That you are a man who has made a career out
of wickedness and enjoys it very much,” Anne blurted out, then
winced. Excessive candor. Her mother had always said it was her
worst fault and the years had done little to cure it.
    But Mandell appeared amused rather than
offended. “A career of wickedness,” he mused. “Well, you must admit
that is far more diverting than politics or going into the
army.”
    “I admit nothing except that it is shameful
for a man to waste his time in such a sinful fashion.”
    “Some sins, my lady, are never a waste of
time.” He raised her hand to his lips, whispering a kiss across her
fingertips. The sensation caused her heart to pound. The intensity
of his eyes held her spellbound even as she struggled to be
free.
    To her surprise, he released her. She stepped
back, clutching her hand to her as though it was a treasure he
meant to steal.
    “Flee then, if you must, my virtuous Anne.
But are you really sure you want to go back there?” He gestured
toward the bright lights of the ballroom. “Back to paste on a smile
when your heart is aching, to exchange insincere greetings with
people who don't care a whit about you, to allow no hint of your
private pain to escape you lest it be reduced to a source of
gossip?
    “Nay, Sorrow, you would do far better to
linger here in the darkness with a rogue like me. I, at least,
would expect nothing of you.”
    “Wouldn't you?”
    “I would even give you my assurance, for the
moment, that you will be safe. I'll make no further effort to pry
into your secrets.”
    Anne hesitated, stealing a glance back toward
the safety of the ballroom, the harsh lights spilling through the
French doors. Mandell's uncanny perception unnerved her. How could
he possibly understand her feelings so well? Her face ached from
smiling and uttering commonplaces, struggling to pretend that
nothing was wrong when nothing was right. And all the while she
waited upon tenterhooks for her chance to confront Lucien.
    Her brother-in-law was unlikely to leave the
card table for hours. The strain of continuing to hide her anxiety
was driving her mad. The garden, by contrast, was dark and
soothing, the rustling shadows designed for concealment, a place to
go with all her misery, her fears, her despairing hope that Lucien
might at last be brought to see reason.
    The garden would have been perfect if not for
Mandell. And yet at the moment he did not appear so threatening. He
seemed almost kind. The subtle mockery that shaded his features was
missing, the expression in his eyes merely thoughtful.
    “Well,” she said at last, “I might walk with
you as far as the gate and back.”
    A ghost of a smile touched his lips. With a
courtly bow, he offered her his arm. After the barest hesitation,
Anne took it, resting her fingers on the crisp fabric of his
sleeve.
    He led her along the gravel walkway in
silence, the glitter and noise of the ballroom fading into
insignificance. From the way he escorted her, with such an air of
distant politeness, they might have been taking a very proper
stroll through St. James's Park at the fashionable hour.
    Anne could only marvel at the situation