The Libertine by Saskia Walker Read Free Book Online

trickery. The man is a rogue, and even if it
is not true about his evil ways...” She paused, and Chloris could see Jean
wasn’t sure, or else didn’t want to believe it. “Even if it isn’t true, he lives
a wild life up there in that house of his. He’s a handsome devil and many women
are eager to be in his bed.”
    Jean flushed and cleared her throat, as if stating the
information would somehow tarnish her by association. Chloris had to suppress
her amusement for she had the distinct feeling Jean wondered what it might be
like to be in bed with a man such as Lennox.
    “They say a woman is helpless under his spell, if he chooses to
seduce her,” Jean said, blurting out the words. She wriggled her shoulders as if
in distress, but Chloris noticed Jean kept glancing back for another look at
him. “The shameless libertine,” she added, disapprovingly.
    Chloris was not in a position to pass comment.
    Across the shifting crowd Lennox lifted his hat and inclined
his head at Jean, then at Chloris. His attention lingered on Chloris, and his
gaze made her blood heat. He’s a handsome devil, and many
women are eager to be in his bed. Jean had warned her, and those
words stayed with her. It was wise that she’d left his house when she did. They say a woman is helpless under his spell, if he chooses
to seduce her .
    Nevertheless, Chloris couldn’t help herself, because this
Lennox Fingal was now looking across the crowd at her and her alone, and it
affected her oddly. He was staring into her eyes and beyond and she felt as if
she should have been disturbed by that. For some reason she found her senses
wildly aroused.
    His eyes glittered oddly.
    Beneath her clothing her skin grew hot. She felt restless,
flooded by self-awareness as she was under his gaze.
    Jean rattled on at her side, but Chloris could scarcely take
the words in. “Just look at him, staring at us so rudely.”
    He was indeed staring, pure, candid interest in his
expression.
    Chloris lowered her head, but she could not keep the smile from
her lips, unbridled pleasure swelling in her. Then the crowded street seemed to
grow busier still and a fearful noise sounded to their right-hand side. The
dense crowd stopped moving.
    Half a dozen chickens had escaped their coop and darted about
in front of Jean, clucking loudly. Jean screeched, lifted her skirts and took
flight, as if to pass by the chicken seller. When she did, she bumped against
the owner of the chickens, who was trying to shoo them back toward their
enclosure with one hand. In the chaos, Jean dislodged the basket of eggs the
owner of the chickens had clasped in her other hand. The basket was dropped and
several eggs were broken.
    An argument broke out.
    Chloris watched in dismay. Jean scolded the woman who was
selling the eggs and refused to pay her for the broken ones, insisting that it
was her fault for letting the chickens run free. The coachman was now at her
side. Then the crowd thickened again and Chloris found herself isolated from her
cousin’s wife by the flow of people, many of whom were gathering in front of her
to observe the argument about the eggs.
    That’s when she became aware of his stare, the man Jean had
called Lennox, the Witch Master. He stood off to her left and he looked only at
her, his smile lingering.
    It struck her oddly. Did he have something to do with it?
Surely not. But what if it were true about his abilities to effect change? She
tried to shake the thought from her head, but as she stared at him in wonder she
saw a remnant of that strange light flashing in his eyes. For the briefest
moment it seemed as if those eyes of his were even more luminous, as if they
reflected the sunlight itself. That couldn’t possibly be the case, for clouds
flitted across the sun and his eyes were well shaded beneath his hat.
    Chloris shivered.
    Then it was gone.
    He raised an eyebrow, making a connection with her.
    It felt as if he were reminding her of their previous
encounter, where—as