Nicole Jordan (6 page)

Raven was hard-pressed to answer. She had never lain with areal man, of course. Yet doubtless the knowledge she’d gleaned from the journal had made her appear far more practiced than she actually was.

“What you believe,” she replied, humiliation making her sound breathless, “is of little consequence. I am not obliged to explain myself to you.”

She had to mentally brace herself against the impact of his hard gaze. Suddenly feeling a spell of dizziness, Raven turned and sank into the chair again, letting her head drop into her hands.

Amazingly enough, his tone bore a trace of compassion when he asked if she was all right.

“Oh yes, I am simply thriving,” she muttered with no little sarcasm. “I am regularly accustomed to being abducted and beaten and drugged!”

He stepped closer. With a finger under her chin, he turned her face up to his, his piercing, dark-eyed gaze assessing her intently.

“How could I possibly be all right after everything your brother did to me?” Raven demanded, her voice unsteady. “First he struck me with the butt of his pistol and rendered me senseless. Then he tied me up and forced me to drink some foul potion….” She held up her arms, revealing the livid bruises on her wrists. “Hebrutalized me.”

A grim frown scored Kell Lasseter’s mouth for an instant, but then he visibly repressed it. “I am sorry for what my brother did to you, Miss Kendrick. It was inexcusable. But you are not entirely blameless yourself. Not when you seduce gullible young bucks for sport.”

Raven’s gaze narrowed with her own frown. “That is a lie! I have never seduced anyone, most especially your brother. The worst I am guilty of is offering him friendship.”

“You spurned him because of his Irish blood and his lack of a title—because you considered him beneath your notice.”

“I rejected his suit, yes, but when he proposed marriage to me I was already betrothed.”

Kell Lasseter’s expression only hardened, his stare unwavering, relentless. “But you had him thrashed for daring to raise his eyes to you.”

“I certainly did not! Your brother became drunk one evening when I was at Vauxhall Gardens with friends. He accosted me and tore my gown and almost ravished me—”

“So you deny setting your groom upon him?”

“Yes, I deny it!” She shot him a fierce look. “My groom only intervened to protect me, for which I was eminently grateful. As it was, I barely escaped scandal.”

“But first you ordered Sean beaten half to death.”

“I tell you, that was not what happened. O’Malley struck him, true, but only to make your brother release me.”

“Your groom just happened to be strolling through Vauxhall with you, Miss Kendrick?” Lasseter drawled, his tone sardonic.

“No, he was keeping a watchful eye on me in case of trouble! Your brother had been tormenting me for so long, he had become dangerous. During the fireworks he separated me from my party and dragged me into the woods. O’Malley came after us. I’m not certain what happened to your brother after that, since I was rather distraught at the time. To my knowledge, O’Malley left him there to sleep off his inebriation.”

A muscle flexed in Kell’s jaw. “That is nothing like the story Sean tells.”

“If so, then he has been deceiving you—completely distorting the truth.”

“The scars on his back are no distortion, Miss Kendrick.”

“What scars?”

“From the brutal floggings he endured. Compliments of the British Royal Navy. Sean was taken up by an impressment gang that night and spent four months in hell. Have you any idea of the damage a cat-o’-nine-tails can inflict on a man’s flesh? Those scars will be with him till the day he dies.”

Raven stared, not knowing what to say.

“Is it any wonder Sean was desirous of revenge after enduring such brutality?” his brother asked grimly.

She swallowed, unaccountably feeling a measure of guilt. “If that’s true, then I am sorry. But I swear, it was not deliberate. I had no idea what happened to him. After that night, he never approached me again. Frankly, I was thankful to no longer have him plaguing me. I was at my wits’ end…. But I never saw him again until yesterday.”

Kell regarded her skeptically, studying every emotion that crossed her beautiful face. Her complexion held a delicate pallor from her ordeal, highlighted by hot flags of anger and humiliation burning on her cheeks.

Was it possible that her version of events was the truth? That she wasn’t to blame for Sean’s impressment? Or was she simply an excellent actress with the skill to dupe him along with every other witless male she encountered? Even if she hadn’t deliberately orchestrated Sean’s downfall, would she even care if she sent an innocent man to his doom?

“Perhaps you don’t know your brother as well as you think you do,” she muttered defensively, breaking into his thoughts.

Kell found it difficult to scoff at her observation. Was Sean really the victim in this damnable conflict…or was she? Once more Kell felt a surge of anger at them both.

“In any event”—she drew an unsteady breath—“he should be well-satisfied with his revenge, since he has totally ruined me.”

Her lower lip suddenly trembled, the first sign he’d seen in her of any frailty. When she blinked back her tears resolutely, Kell felt his heart twist hard. Her vulnerability touched him in a place where he thought he had no real feeling left.

She squared her shoulders, drawing her dignity around her like armor. Her eyes glistening, she held his stare with defiant pride.

Kell swore under his breath at his body’s unwilling reaction to her arresting beauty. Those eyes were such a vibrant, startling blue…the color of a wild Irish sea. They haunted him almost as much as the memory of her nipples rising eagerly to his mouth last night.

Still half feeling the thrust of her soft hips against his loins, the softness of breasts barely constrained by her shift, Kell clenched his teeth. Lust was hazardous, and so was sympathy.

“Where is your brother?” she suddenly asked.

Her question made Kell frown. “Why does it matter?”

“Because he should be made to face his crimes. What sort of coward is he to behave so viciously and then run away, leaving you to deal with the aftermath?”

“He didn’t run. I sent him away.”

She closed her hands into fists, obviously working herself into an outrage. “Well, I can assure you, he won’t escape punishment. He should be hanged for what he did to me.”

Kell felt every muscle in his body go rigid. He’d known the situation would eventually come to this. That Miss Raven Kendrick would likely want retribution. And that if he were honest, shedeserved retribution. His brother’s treatment of her sickened him. Even so, he’d spent much of the night stewing over how to extricate Sean from this debacle.

Even if Raven Kendrick were not as vicious as purported—which was seeming more likely by the moment—the danger to Sean was acute. He might not hang for enacting his revenge, but with her family’s powerful connections, he could very well go to prison.

Bloody hell. Sean deserved punishment, certainly, but prison would destroy him.

Kell felt his resolve harden. He couldn’t allow his brother to suffer that fate. If Raven Kendrick intended to bring charges…well, he would simply have to persuade her to reconsider. And that meant determining what possible recompense he could offer her.

When he remained silent, she eyed him mutinously. “I should like to go home now.”

Kell hesitated only an instant. “I’m afraid I cannot allow you to leave just yet.”

She stared. “Why not? My family will be worried sick for me.”

“I can’t return you to your family, looking like something the cat dragged in.”

“Yourbrother dragged in, you mean.”

“Perhaps, but I’m still not convinced you’re the victim in this case.”

“Your opinion is entirely beside the point.”

“Even so, you’ll remain here for the time being.”

“Why, so you can molest me again?”

“Molestyou, Miss Kendrick?” Kell eyed her measuringly. “That is all the gratitude I get for my trouble last night?”

Her cheeks flushed at the reminder. “I hardly think I owe you gratitude.”

“No? I seem to recall you begging me to soothe your needs.”

“I was clearly not in my right mind.”

He flashed her a mocking smile, now intent on drawing her fire. If she was angry at him, she would be less likely to focus her outrage on his brother. “Well, have no fear. I don’t mean to touch you again. Does that disappoint you?”

He was deliberately provoking her, and she rose to the bait. Her eyes flashed with revolt. “If I were a man…”

Kell raised an eyebrow. “What would you do?”

“I would challenge you on a field of honor.”

“You would lose.”

She rose to her feet, passionate fury in every line of her body. “You cannot keep me here!”

“I think I can. You obviously need time for your hot temper to cool.”

It was a measure of how raw her nerves were that Raven reacted to his arrogant tone as irrationally as she did—drawing back her arm to slap the mockery off his handsome face. He caught her hand before she could do any damage, his grasp a velvet manacle on her wrist.

Raven winced reflexively at the pressure on her bruised flesh. Instantly she saw a softening in the hard intensity of his eyes. She was suddenly aware of a new tension that charged the air. His gaze felt unbearably intimate, while his touch seemed to burn her bare skin.

She drew a sharp breath. How could he remind her so much of her pirate lover? Her gaze dropped to his sensual, hard-looking mouth. How could she be feeling this yearning to have him kiss her again?

Forcibly she dragged her gaze from his mouth. She wanted to hate him, not to feel a powerful surge of desire.

As if he could see the sudden flare of need in her eyes, he released her hand abruptly and turned away.

Without speaking, he went to the side door and locked it, then pocketed the key. Moving to the other door, he paused. “Finish your breakfast and have a bath first. Then we’ll talk.” When he had let himself from the room, she heard the key turn as he locked that door as well.

Raven stared after him, wanting to scream with frustration while at the same time fighting down rising panic. She was trapped here, at the mercy of a blackguard. Perhaps hehad saved her from his brother, but there was a very real sense of danger about Kell Lasseter. She didn’t believe he would simply release her to return to her family unscathed.

And once she did return?

She raised a hand to her temple as the disastrous events of the past hours struck her anew. Even if her ailing grandfather hadn’t expired from shock, the consequences of last night would be unavoidable. She had been thoroughly compromised, her sterling reputation destroyed. Halford would doubtless shun her. Indeed, any chance of marrying well had been totally shattered. Her life was ruined, as were her mother’s dreams for her.

Unbidden, a sob rose to her throat. She felt cold, sick inside—

Shaking herself fiercely, Raven lifted her chin and steeled her spine. She couldn’t afford to indulge in despair. Her first priority was to escape. She wouldnot remain here as Kell Lasseter’s prisoner.

She went to one of the windows and peered down. Two stories was not too far a drop if she fashioned a rope out of the bedsheets. But then what? She had no clothing or shoes or money to pay a hackney. And she could hardly traipse through Mayfair dressed as she was and totally defenseless….

Trying desperately to think, Raven turned to pace the room and caught a glimpse of herself in the cheval glass. Merciful heaven. She hardly recognized the woman standing there. She looked wild and wanton, her hair a tousled mane around her shoulders, her cheeks and mouth flushed with color as if she’d just passed a passionate night engaged in lovemaking—as indeed she had. With Kell Lasseter.

She groaned again. No wonder he thought she’d seduced his brother for sport. This brazen creature appeared perfectly capable of such cruelty.

Reminded of Lasseter, Raven gritted her teeth. His behavior had been far from gentlemanly. He’d not only treated her with disdain, but he seemed to be almost deliberately goading her—and enjoying her bristling response. How she would have liked to wipe that mocking smile off his compelling face. But at the moment she was powerless. She glanced around the room. What she needed was protection of some kind, a weapon….

She searched the armoire first and then the bureau drawers. When she encountered a pistol, she almost shouted in triumph. It looked very much like the one Sean had threatened her with yesterday. And it was primed and loaded. A tight smile compressed Raven’s mouth. She still might not have the means to return home, but she felt less helpless armed. And now she would have the upper hand with Lasseter. She could force him to accede to her demands.

Buoyed by a surge of hope, Raven grew calmer. By the time two footmen carried in a copper hip bath and numerous pails of hot water, she had her emotions passably under control. Still, it was difficult to remain composed. Although the servants politely averted their gazes, she had to suffer the mortification of being seen in these iniquitous circumstances. And it vexed her when they locked the door behind them upon leaving, calling attention to her imprisonment.

The bath felt soothing to her aches and bruises but stung her various scrapes and raw patches, a fresh reminder of the outrages perpetrated against her yesterday. Beginning to stew again, she gingerly washed her body and then her hair. She spent the next half hour brushing it out and letting it dry before the fire, all the while nursing her anger at Kell Lasseter and his villainous brother. Having a target for her wrath at least kept despair from overwhelming her.

She could find no hairpins, so she plaited her long tresses and fashioned them into a knot at her nape. When she finished, however, there was still no sign of Mr. Lasseter or any clothing for her. Her temper started to simmer. When at last he appeared, she was seated in the chair, facing the door, with the pistol hidden beneath the folds of her robe.

“Finally you deign to show yourself,” Raven said with no little asperity. “Perhaps I neglected to inform you, sir, that I don’t relish being held prisoner.”