Read Online Lessons of Desire by Madeline Hunter - Free Book Online
Authors: Madeline Hunter
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provenance. A gem added late to a will, said to come from Pompeii. Phaedra was quite certain this was the object her father referred to and her only link to the man he described.
His actions ultimately led to her death. She had not been able to get those words out of her mind. They chanted at night while her dreams saw images of her mother those last weeks, too sober, too distracted. She had not even noticed at the time, because there were always smiles for her at least. But her mother's decline had come too fast and her death had been a shock.
Phaedra looked down again. Lord Elliot was gazing up at her. How long had he been watching her from the street?
Maybe her mother had issued no warnings because she had not known herself. Maybe the interloper had been a man like this one below, who could thrill with his mere attention and who tempted one to forget every belief, every principle, that anchored one's life.
She could forgive her mother for neglecting this lesson. She could forgive Artemis anything, even leaving the world too soon. But if a man had indeed used her dishonorably, if his actions had led to her death, that was different. The daughter of Artemis Blair would never forgive him. If she learned that was true, she would see that man fall.
She reached for her shawl and draped it over her hair. Lord Elliot would be an inconvenience, but she would not allow his company to interfere with the real reason she had come to Italy.
Elliot returned to his apartment to retrieve the valise stuffed with his papers. He passed Miss Blair on the steps.
"I will wait in the carriage." Her crisp tone carried the chill that she always showed in his presence now.
She would never forgive him for tying her to that bed and not only because of the humiliation and lack of trust. They both knew it had excited her and she hated him for that and all it implied. They also both knew that if he had not done it she would have slipped away during the night in order to avoid all that it implied.
She had been adamant that it not happen again last night. Her promises had been so heartfelt, her reassurances not to flee so genuine, that he had relented.
It meant that he could sleep himself. The first night he had lain abed, restless and hungry, desire caning through him like a ragged-edged knife. Picturing her up there in that thin chemise, bound to the headboard, her hair glistening like copper silk and her body too visible— What are your intentions. Lord Elliot?
Hell.
He retrieved his valise and a long package and joined her in the carriage. Her straight back and distant, blank gaze said she accepted his company because she had no choice. She would not ease their time together with pleasantries.
The boat he had hired waited near the Castel Nuovo. An hour later they were sailing along the land that rimmed the bay.
Miss Blair stationed herself at mid-deck, holding on to the rail. She watched the passing coastline and the growing size of Mount Vesuvius in its background. The breeze pushed the shawl off her hair and her pale, unusual beauty caught the eyes of the crew. Elliot ambled closer so there could be no misunderstanding regarding his protection of her.
He held out the package that he had brought.
"What is that?" she asked.
"A gift."
She smiled kindly, but firmly. "I do not accept gifts from gentlemen. Lord Elliot"
"You do not exchange gifts for favors, which is admirable. However, since I have not enjoyed the favors you are still free to accept the gift. If I seduce you, you can give it back."
He came damned close to saying "when," not "if."
Still hesitant, but curious, she took the package and peeled off the paper wrapping at one end.
"A parasol?" She stripped off the rest of the paper. She laughed. "Black. Totally black. How ... sweet."
"I thought it would match."
"This is to save me from more tiny spots?"
"It is to save you from illness. The sun here is very hot and it is midsummer. When we go inland you will be
His actions ultimately led to her death. She had not been able to get those words out of her mind. They chanted at night while her dreams saw images of her mother those last weeks, too sober, too distracted. She had not even noticed at the time, because there were always smiles for her at least. But her mother's decline had come too fast and her death had been a shock.
Phaedra looked down again. Lord Elliot was gazing up at her. How long had he been watching her from the street?
Maybe her mother had issued no warnings because she had not known herself. Maybe the interloper had been a man like this one below, who could thrill with his mere attention and who tempted one to forget every belief, every principle, that anchored one's life.
She could forgive her mother for neglecting this lesson. She could forgive Artemis anything, even leaving the world too soon. But if a man had indeed used her dishonorably, if his actions had led to her death, that was different. The daughter of Artemis Blair would never forgive him. If she learned that was true, she would see that man fall.
She reached for her shawl and draped it over her hair. Lord Elliot would be an inconvenience, but she would not allow his company to interfere with the real reason she had come to Italy.
Elliot returned to his apartment to retrieve the valise stuffed with his papers. He passed Miss Blair on the steps.
"I will wait in the carriage." Her crisp tone carried the chill that she always showed in his presence now.
She would never forgive him for tying her to that bed and not only because of the humiliation and lack of trust. They both knew it had excited her and she hated him for that and all it implied. They also both knew that if he had not done it she would have slipped away during the night in order to avoid all that it implied.
She had been adamant that it not happen again last night. Her promises had been so heartfelt, her reassurances not to flee so genuine, that he had relented.
It meant that he could sleep himself. The first night he had lain abed, restless and hungry, desire caning through him like a ragged-edged knife. Picturing her up there in that thin chemise, bound to the headboard, her hair glistening like copper silk and her body too visible— What are your intentions. Lord Elliot?
Hell.
He retrieved his valise and a long package and joined her in the carriage. Her straight back and distant, blank gaze said she accepted his company because she had no choice. She would not ease their time together with pleasantries.
The boat he had hired waited near the Castel Nuovo. An hour later they were sailing along the land that rimmed the bay.
Miss Blair stationed herself at mid-deck, holding on to the rail. She watched the passing coastline and the growing size of Mount Vesuvius in its background. The breeze pushed the shawl off her hair and her pale, unusual beauty caught the eyes of the crew. Elliot ambled closer so there could be no misunderstanding regarding his protection of her.
He held out the package that he had brought.
"What is that?" she asked.
"A gift."
She smiled kindly, but firmly. "I do not accept gifts from gentlemen. Lord Elliot"
"You do not exchange gifts for favors, which is admirable. However, since I have not enjoyed the favors you are still free to accept the gift. If I seduce you, you can give it back."
He came damned close to saying "when," not "if."
Still hesitant, but curious, she took the package and peeled off the paper wrapping at one end.
"A parasol?" She stripped off the rest of the paper. She laughed. "Black. Totally black. How ... sweet."
"I thought it would match."
"This is to save me from more tiny spots?"
"It is to save you from illness. The sun here is very hot and it is midsummer. When we go inland you will be
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