Page List


Font:  

He didn’t move for one breathless moment. And then he flinched, pulling away from her. “I don’t think it would entertain you, my lady,” he said, suddenly formal. “There are far more interesting ways to spend our time. ”

She looked at him for a long moment. “You try so hard to convince me how evil you are,” she said softly, dropping her overbright smile. “Don’t you tire of it?”

“Trust me, my love, it’s effortless. ” He was cold, withdrawn, his pale eyes wintry. “We’ll be leaving within the hour. I’ve left instructions with your so-called maid. Be ready. ”

If Jane had thought the pace of her first trip north had been ventre à terre it was nothing compared to this one. Jacob Donnelly’s driver was far more skilled, though in fact no one could make such high speeds on the rough roads easy, and she held on to the strap as they traveled into the darkness, trying to keep from being bounced around.

They rode in grim silence. Jacob had changed his clothes, and apart from asking her if someone had brought her some food he said nothing, leaning back on the opposite seat, his long legs propped on the floor beside her, and he slept.

She wished she could do the same. She felt as if she’d spent her life in a carriage, and while she still loved the idea of travel, she wouldn’t have minded a more leisurely pace or time off between trips in the best of all situations.

This was far from the best. She glanced over at her companion, frustrated. She was frightened for Miranda, who seemed surrounded by enemies. Her closest friend had accepted her dismissal and in fact had been so busy becoming enamored of a thief she’d forgotten all about her. After all, Jane had seen the way Rochdale had looked at her. She knew what love looked like—she’d seen it often enough between her parents, and she was sure she’d recognized it without question.

But it seemed as if she was wrong. Not if he was going to offer her up to the Heavenly Host as some sort of gift, or sacrifice, or plaything. She shuddered.

Jacob Donnelly slept on, impervious to worry and the racketing of the carriage, impervious to everything. She might just as well be alone in the coach, she thought, much aggrieved. If he didn’t wake up and set her mind at ease she would be tempted to go into strong hysterics.

They hit a bump, and she almost flew off the seat. Her companion barely moved, and enough was enough. They’d been in the carriage almost twelve hours, stopping only to change horses, and the morning sun was coming up. If her companion was really that sound a sleeper then she pitied the poor woman who married him.

Of course she did, she mocked herself. Poor, shy, pitiful Jane. She reached out and kicked him.

He didn’t move, continuing to sleep soundly as the coach tore onward. She wondered what would happen if she pinched him. She reached out to kick him again when his quiet voice reached out through the dawn-lit carriage.

“Don’t kick me, lass,” he said quietly.

“Mr. Donnelly,” she said, hating the sound of her high and nervous voice. “Do you think we’re going to get there in time to dissuade Lord Rochdale from taking Miranda to his evil friends?”

He opened his eyes, looking at her with a lazy appreciation that startled her. What was there about her skinny, plain figure that was worth appreciating? “Now, Miss Jane,” he said, “you’ll find that most things aren’t quite as bad as they seem. The Heavenly Host are no more than a bunch of spoiled, gormless aristocrats with more money than sense, and they try to keep themselves entertained by playing at being wicked. It’s mostly harmless, if not particularly sanctioned by the church, and some of the things that go on there might be against the law, but I always hold with the fact that if the two or three or more people involved want to do it then it’s no one else’s business. ”

“Two or three or more …?” That was something she didn’t care to think about. “So there’s no blood sacrifice or anything?”

“The only thing that gets sacrificed is some fools’ dignity. ”

Jane concentrated on making pleats in her poor abused traveling dress. “And have you ever been to one of these gatherings?”

“Oh, they’re not for the likes of me. For one thing, I’ve never been particularly interested. For another, only a favored few are allowed to join, and those are of the upper crust. Your fiancé was rejected. ”

“What?” she stared at him in shock. “My boring, stiff-necked, straitlaced fiancé wanted to be part of their disgusting group?”

“Maybe he wasn’t so boring as you thought. ”

“Trust me, he was,” she said. “One can be perverse and still be boring. ”

He laughed. “Very true. And being a member doesn’t mean you’ve lost your soul. Your own …” He stopped abruptly, as if realizing he’d said too much.

But Jane, for all her shyness, had never been particularly slow. “‘My own …’ what? Never mind, I know the answer to that. My father told me he spent many years as a total wastrel. It shouldn’t surprise me in the least that he was part of them. ” She looked at his impassive face. “You did mean my father, didn’t you?”

“Ask him if you dare,” he suggested affably. “I’ve said too much. ”

“You don’t know my father, do you? I can ask him anything. ” She sat back on her seat, fidgeting. “Do you think we’ll get there in time to keep them from going?”

“Don’t worry, lass, we’ll get to Ripton Waters in plenty of time, but it wouldn’t do to underestimate Scorpion. He’ll more than likely realize he’s a flaming idiot and stop before he goes through with it. ”

“A flaming idiot?”

“You and I both know he’s mad for her, something I never thought I’d see. I’m more than happy to take you up there, just to set your mind at ease, but he’s in love with her, and I suspect she feels the same way. ”

“And yet he’s serving her up to the Heavenly Host,” Jane said with some asperity.


Tags: Anne Stuart The House of Rohan Erotic