Read Online Mary Blayney by Traitors Kiss; Lovers Kiss - Free Book Online
Authors: Traitors Kiss; Lovers Kiss
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from prison.” He was silent a moment. “It could be that was your first mistake, Charlotte Parnell. Leaving me at the brothel, or anywhere else, will be your second mistake, because I can, and will, find you.”
He released her hand and waited with that way he had of staring at her. Could he find her house on his own? He was such a fine observer she could not discount his ability to work the puzzle successfully.
The mist turned to a steadier shower and made the decision for her. “Madame Rostine’s,” she said with a nod. “The rain will start in earnest any minute. Hurry or we will both be wet through.”
She pulled her shawl around her head, as Gabriel began to take off his jacket. “Wear this,” he said. “The weave is tight. It will keep you dry. I am used to the cold.”
“Stop,” she hissed. “Keep it. Madame Rostine’s is only a few streets away.” She tugged on his arm and pulled him along. “I am a prostitute and exist only for your comfort. What I feel or need does not matter.”
“I have a vested interest in keeping you healthy, Charlotte.” He kept pace with her, both of them moving purposefully as the weight of the rain grew.
“You are playing a role tonight and your part is to see me as something to be used and forgotten.” By the time they reached the front steps of Rostine’s, Charlotte could feel water dripping down her back, soaking through her dress, ruining it. The wet silk trapped the cold against her skin. She had to hold her body rigid to keep from shivering.
“Not afraid to show her success, is she?” Gabriel said as they hurried up the wide rise of steps leading to the portico that framed the front door.
Yes, it was an elegant house, with columns, marble, brass and windows. It was more grand than anything else on the street. Rather like Madame Rostine herself.
Charlotte ignored the brass knocker, shaped like a naked fairy, and found the familiar spot she knew would echo best.
The door opened quickly and the porter stepped back without speaking. Charlotte hurried in out of the rain, as the downpour worsened.
The servant stepped away as Madame Rostine herself came down the stairs, dressed as though she were still welcoming business, complete to the feathers rising from an elaborate coiffeur.
“Charlotte,” she said with surprise, “I had not expected to see you this evening.” She gestured to the porter and he moved from the door and up the stairs. “Come into the salon and warm yourself. I will have your room ready in a moment.”
Charlotte swept ahead of them and into the drawing room, well aware that Madame was doing her best to flirt with Lord Gabriel. She could only hope that he would be tempted by Madame’s robust beauty. She gave them a moment and then turned as they followed her into the room. He moved from the door to the fire, glancing at her with more exasperation than interest.
“I think we will be here for most of the day and perhaps into the evening.”
“You have paid for the room, Charlotte. It is yours for as long as you wish.” With a nod, Madame Rostine made to leave.
“Will you have someone bring Charlotte a robe so that she can change out of her wet clothes? They are an invitation to illness.”
“But of course, monsieur. I will send a maid immediately.” She glanced at Charlotte and with a slight tilt of her head conveyed amusement at his solicitude.
Charlotte shrugged. “He is a physician and given to detail.”
“Lucky you.” With that, Madame Rostine swept out, taking her cloying scent with her, leaving her cynicism behind.
Charlotte walked quickly to the fire. Gabriel went to the table and poured two brandies. Handing her a glass, he raised his to his lips.
“Drink it slowly,” she said.
“Shall I call you nurse as well as jailer?”
She watched as he took one sip and then another. He closed his eyes and breathed a long, slow “Ahhhh.” He took one more taste and set the glass aside.
“I am well aware that it
He released her hand and waited with that way he had of staring at her. Could he find her house on his own? He was such a fine observer she could not discount his ability to work the puzzle successfully.
The mist turned to a steadier shower and made the decision for her. “Madame Rostine’s,” she said with a nod. “The rain will start in earnest any minute. Hurry or we will both be wet through.”
She pulled her shawl around her head, as Gabriel began to take off his jacket. “Wear this,” he said. “The weave is tight. It will keep you dry. I am used to the cold.”
“Stop,” she hissed. “Keep it. Madame Rostine’s is only a few streets away.” She tugged on his arm and pulled him along. “I am a prostitute and exist only for your comfort. What I feel or need does not matter.”
“I have a vested interest in keeping you healthy, Charlotte.” He kept pace with her, both of them moving purposefully as the weight of the rain grew.
“You are playing a role tonight and your part is to see me as something to be used and forgotten.” By the time they reached the front steps of Rostine’s, Charlotte could feel water dripping down her back, soaking through her dress, ruining it. The wet silk trapped the cold against her skin. She had to hold her body rigid to keep from shivering.
“Not afraid to show her success, is she?” Gabriel said as they hurried up the wide rise of steps leading to the portico that framed the front door.
Yes, it was an elegant house, with columns, marble, brass and windows. It was more grand than anything else on the street. Rather like Madame Rostine herself.
Charlotte ignored the brass knocker, shaped like a naked fairy, and found the familiar spot she knew would echo best.
The door opened quickly and the porter stepped back without speaking. Charlotte hurried in out of the rain, as the downpour worsened.
The servant stepped away as Madame Rostine herself came down the stairs, dressed as though she were still welcoming business, complete to the feathers rising from an elaborate coiffeur.
“Charlotte,” she said with surprise, “I had not expected to see you this evening.” She gestured to the porter and he moved from the door and up the stairs. “Come into the salon and warm yourself. I will have your room ready in a moment.”
Charlotte swept ahead of them and into the drawing room, well aware that Madame was doing her best to flirt with Lord Gabriel. She could only hope that he would be tempted by Madame’s robust beauty. She gave them a moment and then turned as they followed her into the room. He moved from the door to the fire, glancing at her with more exasperation than interest.
“I think we will be here for most of the day and perhaps into the evening.”
“You have paid for the room, Charlotte. It is yours for as long as you wish.” With a nod, Madame Rostine made to leave.
“Will you have someone bring Charlotte a robe so that she can change out of her wet clothes? They are an invitation to illness.”
“But of course, monsieur. I will send a maid immediately.” She glanced at Charlotte and with a slight tilt of her head conveyed amusement at his solicitude.
Charlotte shrugged. “He is a physician and given to detail.”
“Lucky you.” With that, Madame Rostine swept out, taking her cloying scent with her, leaving her cynicism behind.
Charlotte walked quickly to the fire. Gabriel went to the table and poured two brandies. Handing her a glass, he raised his to his lips.
“Drink it slowly,” she said.
“Shall I call you nurse as well as jailer?”
She watched as he took one sip and then another. He closed his eyes and breathed a long, slow “Ahhhh.” He took one more taste and set the glass aside.
“I am well aware that it
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