Rosemary Rogers - Scandalous Deception

“I will contact Stefan to ensure he knows of your troubles,” he promised, not bothering to inform her that he intended to deal with Thomas Wade in his own straightforward, if covert, fashion. “Until then you will stay with a friend. You must know someone in London.”

Her lips thinned at his sharp command. “I know several people in London, but none are in a position to prevent Thomas from taking me away. Only Stefan…”

Edmond frowned as her words came to an abrupt halt, her eyes narrowing as if she had been struck with a brilliant notion.

“Only Stefan, what?” he demanded, impatient to return to the ball and Howard Summerville now that he had solved the mystery of Brianna Quinn.

“Only Stefan can protect me.” Her chin tilted as a thin, determined smile curved those tempting lips. “And that is precisely what he is going to do.”

“I am certain he will, once he discovers your…”

“No, I cannot wait for Stefan to rush to the rescue. You are already here, after all, pretending to be Stefan. There is no reason I cannot move into the town house. Tonight.”

CHAPTER FOUR

EDMOND’S FEATURES TIGHTENED, his admiration for Brianna’s courage being replaced by a dark, seething anger.

Did the woman think he was sweet, tender-hearted Stefan who could be manipulated by every pathetic waif who crossed his path?

Or did she believe his unmistakable lust for her delectable body gave her power over him?

“I can only presume that is some sort of jest.” His voice was low and cutting as he stepped to loom over her in a threatening manner.

Her breath rasped loudly in the still air, but she refused to back away.

“Not in the least. All of London believes that the Duke of Huntley is currently residing in his town house. Why would he not invite his ward to come and stay with him?”

“Not even a ward can stay alone in the home of a bachelor. You would be ruined.”

“Not if you hire a companion,” she retorted stubbornly.

He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “So now I am not only to have my privacy invaded by a pesky, unwanted ward, but also a middle-aged dragon?” he taunted. “You truly have lost your wits if you think I would consider such a ridiculous notion for even a moment.”

She hissed in frustration. “You would rather allow me to be hauled off by my stepfather and raped?”

Edmond ignored the tide of black contempt. Thomas Wade would soon be no more than a forgotten corpse. For now, Edmond was much more concerned with this aggravating minx standing before him.

“I assure you that the matter will be dealt with.”

“Forgive me if I do not entirely trust such an ambiguous promise,” she retorted, her expression bitter.

“It will have to do.”

She remained silent for a brief moment, as if waging some inward struggle. Then, drawing in a deep breath, she met his glittering gaze squarely.

“No, it will not have to do.” Her voice wavered before she gathered her nerve and continued. “You seem to forget that I have a means of compelling you to take me into the town house.”

Edmond stilled, his predatory nature coiled and prepared to strike as he sensed danger. Reaching out, he grasped her shoulders, hauling her close enough that he was wrapped in warm lavender.

“Take care, Brianna, I do not respond well to blackmail.”

She swallowed heavily, but she was wise enough not to struggle against his biting grip.

“You have left me no choice,” she gritted. “Either you agree to take me in as your ward, or I will return to the ballroom and inform one and all that you are not Stefan.”

Edmond had been a powerful force in politics for the past eight years. He had intimidated, seduced, and at times deceived others into obeying his will.

Now this little wisp of a girl thought to bully him?

His fingers tightened. “You are a fool to threaten me, ma souris .”

“Not a fool, only desperate. I will not remain another night under the roof of my stepfather.”

With a jerk, he had her pressed against the door, his body leaning heavily into her slender form with an unmistakable warning.

“You believe you are any safer under my roof?” His voice deepened as that growingly familiar heat flowed through his blood. Brianna Quinn might be a stubborn, unruly wench, but she stirred his passions to a fever pitch. To have her sleeping just a few doors away would bring a certain end to her innocence. “I am not the oh-so-honorable Stefan. I do not rescue damsels in distress without expecting some sort of reward.”

She trembled, but not with fear. She might be a virgin, but she was vibrantly aware of the sizzling heat that pulsed between them.

“You do not have to remind me that you have always been a cad and a scoundrel.”

He arched a raven brow. “Well, then?”

“I do not gain control of my inheritance until my birthday in the spring, but I do have several jewels…”

His husky laugh filled the shadowed room. “I have no need for your money or jewels.”

She frowned in confusion, revealing just how innocent she truly was. “Then what sort of reward do you demand?”

Edmond deliberately allowed his heated gaze to run over her ivory features before lowering to rest on the slight swell of her breasts.

“Obviously, you have nothing to barter but your feminine charms.”

She attempted an expression of outrage, but Edmond did not miss the darkening of her magnificent eyes. She would never admit it, but she was not entirely averse to the thought of having those charms tasted. Perhaps even devoured.

“You are no better than Thomas,” she accused in a shaky voice.

Edmond smiled with cold intent, abruptly stepping back and tugging her from the door. He had wasted enough time. He was here to discover a murderer, not to seduce his brother’s ward. Stefan was far better suited to deal with such a mess.

He still intended to kill Thomas Wade. That was a given. But tonight, his priority was Howard Summerville.

“Then I suggest that you remain with your stepfather, where you belong, or find some other accommodations,” he informed her, releasing his hold so he could pull open the door.

“Damn you,” she hissed.

Edmond paused to cast a mocking glance over his shoulder. “You are too late, ma souris . I was damned years ago.”

IT WAS JUST PAST THREE in the morning when Brianna and her maid slipped through the back gate of the Huntley town house and made their way to the kitchen door.

Although only a few blocks away from her stepfather’s home, the two establishments could not be compared.

The entire area had once belonged to Westminster Abbey and had been taken into possession by Henry VIII. Later it was developed by the Curzon family, who named the neighborhood Mayfair after the annual fair that had once been held in the open fields.

Unlike many of the grand homes, Huntley House had been built by James Stuart, who preferred a plain exterior of pale stone and wrought-iron fencing to the more elaborate style of Robert Adam. The elegant interior, however, was a lavish display of wealth.

As a child, Brianna could recall entering the home and marveling at the split staircase that led to a formal landing that boasted heavy marble pillars and Grecian statues. A perfect setting for the Duke and Duchess to greet their guests in a truly regal fashion.

The jewel of the house, of course, was the neo-classical drawing room with its series of tall windows that extended the length of the house and overlooked Hyde Park. It was a room that had been near overwhelming for young Brianna, who had been terrified of destroying some priceless work of art.

And now here she was, about to enter the house as a thief.