Read Online Rescued By a Lady's Love (Lords of Honor, #3) by Christi Caldwell - Free Book Online
Authors: Christi Caldwell
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over her shoulder. Taller than most women, she had the look of a Spartan warrioress. Just then, the captivating stranger inched her gaze up higher and found his window.
Derek cursed and let go the curtain with such alacrity it snapped noisily in the quiet. Tightening his jaw, he thrust aside his fleeting appreciation for the stranger outside his home. There was no business she could have here. After all, Polite Society and impolite Society all knew—you never stirred The Beast of Blackthorne.
A fter her most recent shameful fall from grace, Lily had become attuned to gaping stares; none of those looks were kind and all condemning. That acuity was how she’d known someone had been staring at her.
She raised her gaze up the white façade of the Duke of Blackthorne’s townhouse. The faint flutter of velvet curtains in the top window lent proof to her earlier feeling of being watched. A slight shiver of unease raced along her spine. The first real stirring of anxiety since she’d rented a hack and left the shameful life she’d lived these past years, ran through her. Granted, it would be the height of foolishness to not be attacked by doubt. After all, what powerful duke known as The Beast would turn the care of his ward over to a woman ruined by his dead brother?
“This is lunacy,” she whispered to herself. Foolishly, she’d not allowed herself to think of, once again, setting foot inside these halls. Despite the warmth of the spring day, her teeth chattered. Her fingers curled hard around the handle of her valise. She stared dumbly at the door as her past converged with her future, whirring and twisting so she could not sort out that long ago night from the now. A pressure weighted her chest, restricting airflow as she recalled climbing those same steps, pleading, begging...hoping. I cannot do this. A heavy wind slapped at her skirts, as if nature concurred.
She wheeled around to flee.
Holdsworth’s leering face flashed to mind. The glimmer in his brown eyes, the feral grin on his lips, a ruthless smile that spoke to her future if she failed to do this deed. To not climb the Duke of Blackthorne’s steps and demand this post would result in her becoming whore to some other. Or worse...
Failure to comply would destroy what remained of Lily’s living spirit and she’d not be destroyed again at another man’s hands. Squaring her shoulders, she turned back and started forward. Unlike that proverb uttered so many times by her father during her youth, she’d rather face the devil she did not know.
Lily stopped beside the black wood door. Or in this case, the beast she did not know. She lifted a hand and knocked.
...Surely you did not believe I would marry you...
The door opened almost instantly cutting into the memory of George’s mocking laughter. A younger butler with warm eyes stared back. His chestnut hair tousled and his cheeks flushed, the flustered man appeared to be near his thirtieth year. “May I help you?” Out of breath, as though he’d run a great distance, he spoke with far more kindness than owed a stranger. Particularly one who’d shown up by hired hackney, no less.
She drew in a breath. “I—”
“Please come down,” a young woman cajoled, momentarily distracting Lily. She tipped her head and the evil deeds that brought her here this day forgotten, she leaned curiously around.
The butler promptly pulled the door in her face, just as it had been shut years earlier. Lily shot a hand out to stay that movement, but he merely closed it enough to block her view of the unfolding tableau at his back. She braced for icy contempt. Instead, the servant shot another quick glance over his shoulder and then returned his focus to Lily. “Miss?” he asked.
After her years with Sir Henry’s nasty servants, she’d come to expect they were all as condescending and cold as the gentlemen and ladies they worked for.
She opened her mouth, when shouts went up behind the man. The color leeched from
Derek cursed and let go the curtain with such alacrity it snapped noisily in the quiet. Tightening his jaw, he thrust aside his fleeting appreciation for the stranger outside his home. There was no business she could have here. After all, Polite Society and impolite Society all knew—you never stirred The Beast of Blackthorne.
A fter her most recent shameful fall from grace, Lily had become attuned to gaping stares; none of those looks were kind and all condemning. That acuity was how she’d known someone had been staring at her.
She raised her gaze up the white façade of the Duke of Blackthorne’s townhouse. The faint flutter of velvet curtains in the top window lent proof to her earlier feeling of being watched. A slight shiver of unease raced along her spine. The first real stirring of anxiety since she’d rented a hack and left the shameful life she’d lived these past years, ran through her. Granted, it would be the height of foolishness to not be attacked by doubt. After all, what powerful duke known as The Beast would turn the care of his ward over to a woman ruined by his dead brother?
“This is lunacy,” she whispered to herself. Foolishly, she’d not allowed herself to think of, once again, setting foot inside these halls. Despite the warmth of the spring day, her teeth chattered. Her fingers curled hard around the handle of her valise. She stared dumbly at the door as her past converged with her future, whirring and twisting so she could not sort out that long ago night from the now. A pressure weighted her chest, restricting airflow as she recalled climbing those same steps, pleading, begging...hoping. I cannot do this. A heavy wind slapped at her skirts, as if nature concurred.
She wheeled around to flee.
Holdsworth’s leering face flashed to mind. The glimmer in his brown eyes, the feral grin on his lips, a ruthless smile that spoke to her future if she failed to do this deed. To not climb the Duke of Blackthorne’s steps and demand this post would result in her becoming whore to some other. Or worse...
Failure to comply would destroy what remained of Lily’s living spirit and she’d not be destroyed again at another man’s hands. Squaring her shoulders, she turned back and started forward. Unlike that proverb uttered so many times by her father during her youth, she’d rather face the devil she did not know.
Lily stopped beside the black wood door. Or in this case, the beast she did not know. She lifted a hand and knocked.
...Surely you did not believe I would marry you...
The door opened almost instantly cutting into the memory of George’s mocking laughter. A younger butler with warm eyes stared back. His chestnut hair tousled and his cheeks flushed, the flustered man appeared to be near his thirtieth year. “May I help you?” Out of breath, as though he’d run a great distance, he spoke with far more kindness than owed a stranger. Particularly one who’d shown up by hired hackney, no less.
She drew in a breath. “I—”
“Please come down,” a young woman cajoled, momentarily distracting Lily. She tipped her head and the evil deeds that brought her here this day forgotten, she leaned curiously around.
The butler promptly pulled the door in her face, just as it had been shut years earlier. Lily shot a hand out to stay that movement, but he merely closed it enough to block her view of the unfolding tableau at his back. She braced for icy contempt. Instead, the servant shot another quick glance over his shoulder and then returned his focus to Lily. “Miss?” he asked.
After her years with Sir Henry’s nasty servants, she’d come to expect they were all as condescending and cold as the gentlemen and ladies they worked for.
She opened her mouth, when shouts went up behind the man. The color leeched from
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