“A task?” That seemed absurd. What kind of task did one have in the middle of a ball? And Lucien de Malheur had people to perform his tasks—she couldn’t imagine him exerting himself for anything less than monumental.
“I think it would probably be better if I didn’t explain too much. We simply need to keep guard in a hallway, keep anyone from going into any of the bedrooms. ”
“Why would people go into the bedrooms?”
“Oh, child, how can you be a fallen woman and still such an innocent! The Carrimores are very liberal hosts. They make certain there are bedrooms available for couples who feel the need to fornicate. ”
The word startled her, but she was determined not to show it. “Why should they?” she said in a caustic voice. “Why can’t they just go home?”
“Because most of them have a husband or wife they have to take home with them, not the one they want to fuck. ”
She ripped her arm from his, moving away from him. “You disappoint me, Lord Rochdale,” she said in a shaky voice. “I hadn’t realized you had the same low opinion of me that others have. ”
“Now why would you say that? Haven’t you ever heard that word before? It’s what those guests are doing, and using prettier words for it is being disingenuous. I meant no offense. ”
She stared at him. “Now who’s being disingenuous? You can’t use a word like that without expecting a reaction, not to a young lady of the ton. But then, you know I’m not a proper young lady. The truth is when I was part of polite society I
was protected from such harsh realities. Once I was considered persona non grata I had no idea how people conducted themselves. So why use such words with me? Were you planning on seducing me? Oh, excuse me. Were you planning on fucking me?” She’d never spoken that word out loud, and the very utterance of it made her faintly breathless, but she was too angry to care. She’d trusted him, fool that she was.
“I’ve made you very angry,” he said, sounding sorrowful. “I didn’t mean to. It’s only a word, Lady Miranda. ”
“So is whore. Lightskirt. Trollop. Outcast. All only words. ”
He appeared unchastened. “Not to mention monster. Abomination. Villain. You can be assured I know a great deal about the power of words. I hadn’t thought you were so vulnerable. ”
She stiffened. “I’m not. ”
“Of course you are. I apologize. I wouldn’t want anything to hurt our friendship. ” He took her arm, and his hand covered hers, stroking her reassuringly.
She knew she should pull away again. But he was looking down at her, his pale eyes were like ice, sharp and hypnotic, and she’d given up so much already. She didn’t want to give him up as well, even though she knew she should. This man was truly like a scorpion, a poisonous sting when one least expected it.
And then, to her amazement, his fingers brushed her cheek, turning her stubborn face to his. “Forgive me?” he said softly, and she felt herself slipping again, under his spell.
No wonder they called him the scarred devil. The Scorpion, who hypnotized its victim before delivering that lethal sting. When he touched her face she felt more than Christopher St. John had ever managed to elicit from her. It was dangerous, it was seductive and it shocked her, but she couldn’t move. She stood perfectly still, staring up into his ravaged face, and he moved closer, and she wanted him to kiss her.
“Ooops, sorry, old man,” someone said from the end of the hallway, and the couple disappeared in a welter of giggles and whispered comments, but he’d already moved back from her, and the moment was over.
Author: Anne Stuart
“Don’t worry,” he said in the soft, seductive voice. “They didn’t recognize you. They’re talking about me and what poor victim I’d lured up here. ”
She took a deep breath. “Did you lure me up here?”
“Not at all. I asked you to accompany me while I helped a friend. Nothing secretive about it. ” He nodded toward a pair of chairs tucked into the embrasure. “Do you mind if we sit while I continue to abase myself? I find it difficult to stand for too long. ”
The last bit of offense vanished as concern flooded her. “Of course,” she said. “I should have thought of that. I’m sorry—when I’m with you I forget about …”
“Forget that I’m a monster?” He sounded amused but also faintly surprised. “If so, then you’re the only one. ” He waited until she sat down, and took the chair opposite her. “While I, on the other hand, have to stare at that loo mask and wonder exactly what you’re thinking. ”
She glanced at the empty hallway, then reached up and untied it, letting it drop into her lap before she raised her chin to meet his gaze.
“Ah, that’s much better. You’re quite lovely, you know. ”
“I hadn’t realized your vision was impaired, as well,” she replied quite fearlessly. “I’m perfectly ordinary and you know it. Ordinary brown hair, ordinary shape and height, ordinary brown eyes. ”
She startled him for a moment, and then he laughed. “I like it that you’re almost impossible to intimidate, Lady Miranda. My vision is perfect, and even stronger in the shadows. Are you that needy for compliments that you want to drag them out of me? Surely you’ve had more than your share?”
“Surely I haven’t,” she replied. “I’m considered quite ordinary. The only thing remarkable about me is my fall from grace, and I hardly think that’s an advantage. ”