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“The answer to what question?”

She looked out the window, her mouth pursing for a moment. “Am I good enough?”

A pain like a slice moved through his chest. He wasn’t. He’d learned that long ago.

The carriage turned and started down a quieter street. Reluctantly, Chad set Abigail back on her seat as he began to scan the street behind them to see if they were being followed. “That is never the question you should ask yourself.”

“Why?” she craned her neck, looking behind them as well.

“Because I can tell you with absolute certainty that you are the most intriguing woman I’ve ever met.”

Her head whipped back to look at him, her eyes wide. “Thank you, my lord.” Then

she touched his knee. “I would like to say that I see what sacrifices you’re making to become my husband. You’re being forced to leave your life and whisk me away for my safety.”

That made him grin and he leaned over, quickly capturing her lips. “That isn’t a sacrifice at all.”

The softness of her mouth yielded under his as her gloved hands came to his cheeks. The real sacrifice was that the man he’d carefully built, Blasphemy, was slipping away and he was not at all certain who he’d be once that other man fell to the wayside.

Chapter Six

An hour and a half later, Abigail sat on the bed in a guest room of the Viscount of Vanity.

It had to be well past midnight.

A few candles burned, lighting the darkness. She was still in her ballgown, but she had nothing to change into, and no maid had arrived to help her out of the dress anyway.

Chad and his friend had disappeared into a study and she’d been escorted here where she waited…

For what, she hadn’t a clue.

She sighed and flopped back on the bed, starting to pull pins from her hair. She hadn’t a brush or a ribbon to braid the strands, but she wouldn’t sleep with her hair like this.

Her eyes closed even as she frowned. Had she been irritated with her sisters earlier? She’d give anything to have them here now. Their chatter, even the bossy words, would fill the silence that was suddenly around her. Now she felt…alone.

She kept working out the pins. “Eliza would tell me to lift my chin and be strong like a Carrington. Emily would hug me. Isabella would tell me to keep my wits about me and think about the best course of action.”

She finished removing the pins and began working her fingers through the strands. She still lay across the bed and her hair stretched out behind her, likely streaming over the side. Her dress buttoned up the back. Perhaps she should ring for a servant to at least undo the fitted garment and unlace her corset.

But just as she thought about standing, the door opened, and Chad stepped inside.

She turned to look at him even as he halted by the door, the large wooden panel closing with a soft click. “It’s you,” she said, wondering what else to say. “In my room in the middle of the night.”

His eyes were dark and the features of his face taut as his gaze wandered over her. “Of course it’s me. This is our room.”

She gasped, sitting up, her hair cascading around her. “I beg your—”

“You heard me.” He crossed the room then and buried a hand into her hair, cradling the back of her head. His fingers massaged her scalp as his gaze continued to devour her from his position above her. There were no other words for the look in his eyes. Normally she might be offended by his possessive gestures and words but tonight…she didn’t find she minded quite so much. He must have sensed her softening. “I’ll not leave you alone tonight.”

“But…” she mumbled, argument failing her. Not because she thought he should be here. In fact, all the reasons he shouldn’t seemed rather obvious. But she was too tired to argue and furthermore, she’d been, well, lonely. “You really think this is necessary?”

“What if someone saw us come here? Do you think I’ll leave you here to just be stolen away?”

She shook her head. “You actually think someone would try and take me from a Viscount’s home?”

He grimaced. “I honestly don’t know.”

Chad slid his hand down her arm, then he pulled her to standing, spinning her about and starting on the buttons that ran down the back of her dress.


Tags: Tammy Andresen Lords of Scandal Historical