“I can’t stay here.” Dread and the airless room made her lightheaded. She curled her fingers over the back of the nearest chair for support. “Please let me go.”
He tilted his head to study her. His reptilian eyes slid over her and she fought the urge to shield her breasts.
“Out of the question, Mrs. Paget. You could bring charges of abduction against me.”
Her fingers clenched hard against the chair. “What if I give my word never to mention this house or what you’ve done?”
“Tempting, I’m sure.” She saw he didn’t mean it. “I find myself reluctant to rely on so fragile a prop as a female’s
promise.”
Her voice broke. “I’ll beg on my knees if I have to.”
Aristocratic displeasure crossed his face. “Histrionics will only extend this embarrassing scene.”
Inside her tight chest, her heart thudded the inexorable message that he’d never let her go, no matter how she cried and pleaded. “There must be something I can do. I don’t belong here.”
The disdain on his face hardened into ruthlessness. “Your life outside these gates matters not one whit, madam. Your fate was decided when my servants found you. The only way you’ll leave this estate is in a shroud.”
The gray stare was pitiless and unwavering. How could he threaten her with death and ruin and remain as emotionless as a monolith? In spite of the close atmosphere, she shivered as fear chilled her soul.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered. Her heart drummed a frantic rhythm and breathing became a struggle.
“Don’t you?” His voice was calm. When she didn’t say anything, he went on with a hint of impatience. “Monks should have explained. If he failed to clarify your situation, my nephew should have exerted himself to outline your duties.”
Rage swept in and bolstered her faltering courage. “I am aware why I am here, my lord. But you must see I’m no whore.”
The man opposite made a slight moue of distaste. “You must learn to act one then, Mrs. Paget. I brought you here to entertain Lord Sheene. If you fail to gain his approval—as from all reports you have, I hear he goes out of his way to shun you—you are of no use.”
“Then let me go.”
His impatience became more marked. “Do you not listen, you tiresome young woman? Once your usefulness is over, so is your life. If my nephew finds you diverting, you live as his mistress until he wearies of you. If you cannot stomach a madman’s touch, your end comes without delay. I don’t store tools with no function.”
“He’s not mad,” she said in a thin voice, then wondered why, given all the threats she faced, defending the marquess should be her first response.
Lord John laughed softly as if she’d made a witty remark at a society event. “He’s gulled you into thinking he’s sane, has he? I must say he can be quite convincing. Until he starts to shake and drool and lose control of his bowels. I doubt you’d be so quick to defend him then.”
The picture was so graphic, nausea rose in her throat. She wanted to call Lord John a liar. But what did she know? She’d been here five days. His uncle had known the marquess all his life. Still, she spoke through stiff lips. “I don’t believe you.”
“It is of no importance what you believe.” His tone hardened. “You have one week to lure my nephew into your bed.”
She stepped back from the chair and straightened her shoulders. Even in the overheated room, the sweat on her skin was cold, although not as cold as the bleak knowledge seeping into her mind. There was no escape. There would never be any escape.
“And if I don’t?”
Lord John’s expression became, if anything, more condescending. “You die and I instruct Monks and Filey to locate a replacement. Hopefully, one with a greater sense of self-preservation.”
“This is monstrous.” She sought but failed to find guilt or regret in his impassive face.
“Yes, perhaps it is.” He sounded unconcerned.
She pressed one shaking hand to her roiling stomach to calm it. “So it’s death or dishonor?” she said with false bravado.
“Death in any case,” he said negligently. Then he paused and a calculating light entered the flat gray eyes. “Although if you prove your trustworthiness and bring my nephew up to snuff, we needn’t be so final about your eventual fate.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, even though she knew he played with her to gain obedience and had no intention of negotiating concessions. She’d been a naïve fool when she rushed into this room, but she was a naïve fool no longer.
He shrugged. “Just that I reward those who serve me well. This past year, Sheene hasn’t been himself. If I see you’ve taken my wishes to heart and my nephew returns to his former health and vigor, you may rely on my gratitude.”