Page 14 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
Her candle rested on her dressing table near to the door. He held another in his hand and approached the bed. Diabolical he was, the candle showing the craters and planes of his face, his crooked nose. Her own nose rebelled at the smell of him, and she pressed her lips together, holding her breath.
She had not taken the time to arrange the bedding. Ah, but it would have been a short-lived feint anyway.
His lips, those thin twisted things, curled up revealing broken teeth, discolored, even in this light.
Her muscles tensed like the hard blade at her waist. Her vision tunneled, her gaze meeting his. The ugly slash widened.
Under her wrappings, she eased the dagger out.
“Not in your bed, Grace?” He moved closer, his gaze sweeping over her. “And dressed. Hmm.”
Get out of my bedchamber.She clamped her lips shut on the words. There was no Lady Kingsley behind him to manage his ire. To pump up his greater strength with anger would not be wise.
This time, she must let her blade speak her anger.
“It is very cold in this room,” she said.
The leer widened. “I have come to warm you.”
His foul breath swarmed around her and she bumped into the washstand, grabbing the pitcher with her free hand and steadying it.
It was a heavy, well-made, rustic thing, and there was still water within.
“I should prefer some coals in the grate.”
He chuckled. “No coals, my dear. Just my blackened, devious heart tonight.”
“I think not. You must wait for the wedding night.”
“The wedding night. Oh ho. Because why? We both know your innocence is not part of the package.”
She froze.Reina. He was thinking of Reina. Lord and Lady Kingsley had eyed the child askance, but even after the news arrived about Papa’s disappearance they had not dared to contradict what they thought was a fiction, that Reina was the daughter of her mother’s dearest friend.
She did not have to feign indignation. “What?”
“You have got your bastard safely away, I hear. And here you stand, boots and all under that large covering, planning to go and join her.”
“She is not my bastard. And it was Lord Kingsley who sent her and my servants away. I am worried sick about them.”
“I think you are lying on all counts. But I don’t care that your baggage is gone or where she went. She is well out of my hair.”
“Her mother’s father is a Spanishdon. Papa pledged to her—”
“But I shall enjoy testing your assertion of innocence.”
A shiver went through her and she tried very hard to hold herself still. She had been in this spot on another occasion, with a man who turned out to be just as fearsome. This time no one would come to her rescue. This time she must save herself.
“And screaming will do you no good. Lord Kingsley has dismissed most of the servants tonight.”
She gulped hard over a lump in her throat and her trembling—she could not control it—darkened his smile.
He saw her fear. Oh, that was not good.
Or...was it? She bit down on her lip.
“I should prefer you w-woo me properly.”
“Properly? Shall I kiss you?”
