The Perils of Pleasure by Julie Anne Long Read Free Book Online Page B

breathing man was something else altogether.
    “Your coat will have to—” she began.
    But Eversea was a surprisingly quick study. He stripped off his coat so those brass buttons wouldn’t wink like beacons for thieves.
    “And the—” she began.
    But he was already working the cravat loose, and then the waistcoat came off, too, with an alacrity that made her blink despite herself and started a peculiar heat up in her cheeks. It had been some time since she’d seen a man, let alone an attractive man, matter-of-factly strip off articles of clothing.
    Colin Eversea folded his clothes into a bundle, bent to scoop up both of the cords that had bound him a moment ago, bound up the trappings of his life as a gentleman, then slung them over one shoulder and an nounced, “I’ll go fi rst.”
    She could grow to loathe that arrogant demand in his voice. It hadn’t been a suggestion. And it was a clear indication he didn’t trust her.
    Madeleine was disinclined to take orders from anyone, but she was practical, and arguing required time. “Very well,” she said curtly.
    Colin tugged the window out of its frame; it came easily, and in rushed a gust of foul, warm air. The row of barrels stood before them like the plump backsides of guards.
    “Mind the barrels,” she ordered sotto voce, and then Colin Eversea pulled himself out into daylight, all of about eight minutes after someone had tried to kill Madeleine Greenway.

Chapter 4
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    t was a near thing. Colin could just barely angle out of that window, and that was because there was less of him now than when he first went to prison. He squeezed between two foul-smelling barrels the height of his hip, used his arms to lift himself out, the frame scraping his shoulders as he did.
    Once upright, he found himself standing in the shad owy light of a narrow and—from the look and smell of things— very dirty alley. He blinked in the wan sunlight.
    Sunlight . Once again it rushed at him: Good God. He was unbound and alive and—
    But where in God’s name were they? The rookeries ?
    Colin’s eyes were arrested by a glint against the dirty, peeling wood of the building before him. The glint, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a pair of eyes. The eyes belonged a man who from head to toe was nearly the same indeterminate color as the fi lthy wall. He was sitting on the ground, a bottle clutched in his fist, and was gazing up at Colin in a sort of fond wonder.
    “Well, good mornin’, guv.” He sounded mildly pleased. Doubtless, he considered Colin one of his more benign hallucinations.
    Colin hesitated. “Good morning,” he answered po litely. Habit of breeding.
    The man beamed. Four teeth, Colin counted. Like the aftermath of that first bowl of ninepins.
    Colin glanced over his shoulder just as the top of Madeleine Greenway’s glossy dark head appeared through the window along with her pale hands, and then her muslin-clad torso began to wriggle through.
    “OHHhhhhh . . . !” The filthy man was all delighted, singsong insinuation. He gently put down his bottle and applauded Madeleine’s appearance the way he might the conclusion of a very satisfying puppet show.
    Colin moved swiftly to help her out of the window, another force of habit, thinking perhaps to cup her elbow? Take her hand? But something like surprise or uncertainty flickered over her face. She glanced at his extended hand, her fine dark brows diving in a little frown.
    He retracted the hand, abashed, and a little insulted, and amused at himself for feeling insulted.
    Madeleine Greenway got herself upright, shook out her skirts and instantly began assessing her surround ings. She had a few splinters in her glossy hair, shrapnel from the fired shot. He was tempted to pluck one out to present it to her as a souvenir, but her hands were brushing them out of her hair before he could surrender to that unwise temptation.
    “Wait . . . Might I . . . might I ashk a question of ye, guv?” The request from the