Read Online Redeeming the Rogue by Donna MacMeans - Free Book Online Page B

bruises on your heart, even on your soul,” she said, remembering how her “gentleman” father had abused her mother and how the “gentleman” Baron had stolen her future. “Yet wounds are often inflicted by so-called gentlemen.”
    He glanced at her hand, still lightly pressing his chest, then caught her gaze. His eyes softened with a strange curiosity. “What do you know of pain, Lady Arianne?”
    The tender concern in his voice ripped her from hurtful memories. She quickly snatched her hand from his chest and glanced away. Christopher! What was she doing revealing her scars to a stranger? Why had she lingered over the feel of him when she had only meant to stop his advance? She attempted a smile to gather her thoughts. “Forgive me,” she said, flustered. “You were referring to that Toomey fellow, weren’t you?”
    His fingers, sheathed in buttery soft leather, touched the edge of her jaw, guiding her gaze back to his. She fought to maintain a calm façade, while a conspiratorial smile filled his eyes, then spread to his lips. He stepped to the side, letting her compose herself while he appeared to study the chessboard. “It is true that I’m determined to see Basil Toomey pay for what he did to my family.”
    Their connection severed, Arianne’s traitorous hand stole to her throat. Drawing a deep breath to slow her racing heartbeat, she reminded herself of her earlier resolution to be immune to masculine attraction. Only heartache waited along that path. “What . . . what exactly did he do?”
    “He placed the Fenian bomb that killed my parents and little brother.” Rafferty’s words fell hard and cold in the dispassionate way of tragedy worn smooth by time. She’d heard the same tone in her own voice on those rare occasions when she spoke of the old Duke’s treatment of her mother. With two fingers, Rafferty pinched a black rook and let it hover over the board. “He confessed. He even took pride in the deed.” He lifted a brow her way. “I’m surprised you aren’t familiar with the name. It was in all the papers. You do read, Lady Arianne?”
    She smiled, wise to his jest. She supposed she deserved that jibe for her own supposition. “Yes. I read. Frequently, in fact. However, I was too young at the time of that bombing to read the papers. I do remember mention of the incident in later years.”
    “Perhaps you remember that he managed to escape the hangman with the help of his Fenian friends?” Rafferty set the rook down, on a different square than it had been before, then turned back toward her. “Time is my enemy. I’d be on my way to America right now if not for this ridiculous notion of procuring a bride.”
    “It’s not ridiculous. I assure you a wife is an absolute necessity.” Arianne paused, uncertain if she should continue. She took a breath, deciding he deserved her honesty. “I’m not certain, however, that an actress will be able to convince anyone that she’s married to a British minister. She won’t have the background, the experience . . .”
    “Then the actress and I should be perfectly matched, as you don’t believe I can convince anyone that I’m a British minister,” he challenged. Though he hadn’t reacted at the time, her words to Lord Henderson had obviously left a wound.
    She bit her lip, wishing she could take back those sentiments. That was the trouble with giving voice to one’s thoughts. They always came back to haunt you. One would think she had learned that lesson with the Baron. She lowered her gaze. “I may have been hasty in my judgment.”
    “Oh . . . ? And to what do I owe this change in opinion?”
    She wanted to say that she felt a certain kinship for him, as he’d grown up without a family, much as she had. Granted, she had lost her mother at a young age, but given that the old Duke could barely tolerate the sight of her, she’d been abandoned as if she had lost both of them. She understood the loneliness of living among strangers.