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Authors: To Love a Dark Lord

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BOOK: Anne Stuart
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Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to have the ability to quell Nathaniel’s righteous indignation. Really, the young man was most irritating. If he weren’t so infatuated with Lady Barbara, Killoran would have sent him back to his father posthaste.

But Nathaniel’s heated, respectful passion for a notorious light-skirt was almost as entertaining as Emma Brown. Besides, his disapproval was doubtless good for Killoran’s benighted soul. Assuming he still had one, which Killoran strongly doubted.


I’m not planning to do a thing with her, dear boy,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Your suspicions wound me. She’s a waif, in need of protection from the harsh winter winds. Though, in truth, I don’t consider her particularly waiflike,” he added.


I can’t countenance—”


You don’t need to countenance a thing, Nathaniel. I would hardly have any interest in seducing the poor girl. After all, I could have Lady Barbara anytime I signify, could I not?”

The shot hit home, and Killoran wondered why he felt no pleasure at Nathaniel’s miserable flush. “It’s not my place to say.”


You’ve never let that stop you before,” Killoran said lazily. “You feel no qualms about passing judgment on my designs for Miss Incognita. Why shouldn’t you give me your opinion of my relationship with Lady Barbara?”


Miss Incognita,” Nathaniel said, deliberately ignoring the provocation. “I thought her name was Miss Brown.”


That creature is no more Miss Brown than she is Miss Pottle.” Killoran decided to allow him to avoid the more emotional issue of his would-be mistress. “As a matter of fact, our little stray is a relation of mine.” He considered the notion, then smiled. “My half sister.”


What?”


Of course, we don’t acknowledge it openly. We’ll simply call her a connection by marriage, though unfortunately, marriage had nothing to do with the situation. Who would have thought my proper father would have proved so licentious?”


She’s not your sister!” Nathaniel snapped.


No? Well, I doubt you can prove it. Particularly since I have no intention of claiming the relationship openly. Merely a word or two, a hint, and the information will pass through society quite swiftly.”


I’ll deny it.”


Of course you will. So shall I. It will do no good. The ton will believe as it wishes. But they’ll accept her, knowing her pedigree is decent. Let’s see, who shall her mother be? Some titled English lady, perhaps? The daughter of a duke, who fell for the wiles of a dashing Irishman and succumbed to a moment of passion?”


You’re a bastard.”


In point of fact, I’m not,” Killoran said. “Would you rather I set her out on the streets? Your notion of Christian charity is at odds with reality, Nathaniel.”


I don’t...”


Consider this, my boy. If I’m amusing myself with my newfound relative, I’m less likely to spend time with Lady Barbara—giving you a chance to enjoy her bounteous favors.”


Lady Barbara isn’t a plaything to be passed back and forth!” Nathaniel said furiously. “She’s not a whore!”

Killoran leaned forward and rang the crystal bell at his left hand, summoning Jeffries. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” he suggested. “You may not like the answer.”

If Jeffries hadn’t appeared so promptly, Killoran would have laid odds that Nathaniel would have flung himself on him, doing his best to pummel him. Killoran counted his narrow escape unfortunate. Sooner or later he and Nathaniel would come to blows, and he was looking forward to it immensely. Particularly since he wasn’t at all certain of emerging the victor. Nathaniel was some ten years younger and possessed of the fire of youth and principles. All Killoran could offer was the wisdom of age and treachery. In a fair fight Nathaniel would win. But then, Killoran had no intention of fighting fairly.


Jeffries,” he said, his voice dismissing the furious Nathaniel, “find my sister and bring her to me.”


Your sister, sir?” Jeffries said, aghast. “And where would you suggest I look for her, my lord?”


In the green room.”


I beg your pardon, your lordship. Is the young lady your sister?”

Killoran smiled sweetly, never a reassuring sight. “We don’t acknowledge the relationship, of course. Perhaps we should call her my cousin. I know I can count on your discretion, Jeffries. I wouldn’t want the other servants to hear of this.”


Absolutely, my lord,” Jeffries said. “I’ll find the young lady and bring her here.”

Killoran turned to Nathaniel once the door had closed behind the servant. “You see? It’s that simple. I shan’t have to say another word. By tomorrow morning every acquaintance will hear that I’ve taken my bastard sister under my wing, and society will be agog, waiting to take a look at her. It should be most amusing.”


Is that why you brought her here? For amusement?”


Among other reasons, none of them particularly licentious. Ah, Nathaniel, you’re beginning to understand me. If I lusted after the creature, I would scarcely decide to pawn her off on society, would I? She’ll make a lovely sister.”


Until when?”

Killoran blinked. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Until she ceases to serve a useful purpose. I suppose, once she becomes tiresome, I’ll send her away. That’s what I usually do. So behave yourself, Nathaniel. I could dispense with your company just as well if you continue to be so tedious.”


That would please me no end.”


Of course it would. Which is exactly why I have no intention of sending you away. Hostility entertains me.”


You’re adept at inspiring it.”

Killoran blinked again. “Why, thank you, dear boy. I believe that’s the first compliment you’ve given me.”

 

Emma didn’t want to see him again. She wasn’t being missish or unreasonable in that desire; when she’d emerged from the bath, her clothes had disappeared, and the silk dressing gown of deepest black satin and bright silver buttons could only belong to one person.

It carried the same elusive scent his coat had held. Leather, and whiskey, and spice, and if she were a braver soul, she would have disdained the use of the robe.

But the alternative, walking around in nothing at all, was immodest and made her chilly, so she wrapped herself in his dressing gown and tried to pretend it belonged to the stalwart young man who had brought her to this strange house in the first place.

She slept fitfully on the wide, soft bed. She ate everything Mrs. Rumson brought her, then curled up in the window seat, the dressing gown tucked around her long legs, and stared out into the gathering snow. With the warmth of the fire it should have seemed pleasant. But all Emma could think of was life on the streets of London, wading through drifts, and she pulled the satin dressing gown closer around her body and shivered. Why in heaven’s name did this late winter have to be so harsh?

She didn’t hear the door open, but she knew he was there. He was a very silent man, something that would have unnerved her if she hadn’t developed a sixth sense about his presence. She was used to noise. Uncle Horace had been loud, blustering, and Cousin Miriam’s voice had quite often been raised in strictures or prayers. Even behind the closed curtains of the DeWinter house, there had been no stillness, no peace.

Stillness surrounded Killoran like an uneasy cloud. Emma was already burrowed deep within the dressing gown; she controlled the urge to pull it closer around her as she turned to look at him in the gathering twilight.


You remind me of a magpie,” she said unexpectedly.

He stood in the doorway watching her, a rare look of interest in his eyes. “I make you think of a noisy, chattering bird?” he said. “How very lowering.”

She swung around, careful to keep her long legs covered. Her red hair was a tangled curtain around her, impossibly curly, but there was no way she could restrain it with what they’d left her, so she decided to ignore it. “There’s more to magpies than noise,” she said severely.


I stand corrected. I never was a bird fancier. Are you about to educate me?”


They are very handsome birds, you know. All black and white, with elegant plumage.”

He bowed. “You reassure me.”


They also have a weakness for glitter. If they see something shiny, they simply steal it, carrying it off with them to their nest.”

If she weren’t so near-sighted, she would have known for sure whether there was a glint of amusement in his green, merciless eyes. “I rather thought you were the one who stood accused of thievery.” His voice was as cool as silver. “There was the small matter of that young man’s diamond stickpin.”


But you know that’s not true.”


I don’t know anything at all about you, child, apart from your unusual thirst for violence.” He moved closer, but his expression, as always, was guarded. She had no idea what he was thinking as his eyes traveled over her oddly dressed figure. “And then there’s the undeniable fact that you helped yourself to my coat and my diamond studs. I suspect there’s a strong streak of larceny in your soul as well.”


I presume you got them back,” she said, squashing her immediate guilt.


I did. But that doesn’t necessarily absolve you, or answer my questions. I don’t suppose you care to enlighten me as to who you are?”


Do you really care?”

He smiled then. “No.”


I thought not. Miss Brown will do.”


On the contrary—‘Miss Brown’ will not do at all. I refuse to have someone living under my protection with such a tedious name. ‘Emma’ will suffice. You seem rather like an Emma, despite your exotic appearance. There’s something definitely well ordered about the name Emma. Calm and reasonable, warmhearted and generous.”


You think I’m calm and reasonable?” She was astounded. While that sounded a bit more flattering than she tended to view herself, he’d painted a fairly accurate picture of the real Emma. Well ordered, sensible, kind, and serene, despite the storms that surrounded her. But how could he possibly know that?

He sat down beside her on the window seat, carefully arranging the black-and-silver brocade of his coat so as not to crush it. He was too close to her, and she tried to scoot away, surreptitiously. She had little doubt he was aware of her every move, little doubt that she could edge away only because he allowed her to.


I know a bit about human nature,” he replied.


And you don’t care much for it.”


What reasonable human being could? But I’m not a monster. Unlike the magpie you accuse me of being, I’m not about to carry you off to my nest and keep you there like a shiny new toy. If you wish to leave, you need only say the word and you’re free to go. Wherever.”

It was hardly the most appealing offer. The silk was soft against her bare skin, the fire warm. “And if I prefer to stay?”

There was no flare of triumph in his eyes. “Then you will abide by my decisions. You will wear what I choose, eat what I choose, go where I choose. You will be my creature, living the life I decide for you.”


I would be your whore?”

He laughed then, hardly a reassuring sound. “You needn’t sound so dismayed about it. Most women would feel honored. You keep harping on that, child. I thought I made it clear that I’m not about to expire with passion for your undeniably lovely body. I have far more interesting plans for you.”


What kind of plans?”


Such a suspicious mind,” he murmured. “Nothing you need to worry about at present. We shall have to see how things unfold. In the meantime, I plan to present you to society as my ward. Ah… we’re not likely to run into any real member of your family, are we?”


No.”


Good. You look charming in that dressing gown of mine. Black suits you. I think I shall arrange for a suitable wardrobe. Your manners are genteel enough, perhaps better than mine, so there’s no need of working on them. After all, what can one expect from the Irish? We’ll dress you appropriately and take you to the opera. To start with.”


I love the opera,” she said, a faint note of hope creeping into her voice.


You aren’t going to listen,” he said. “You’re going to observe and be observed.”


Why?”


Why do I do anything? Because it amuses me. But you must make one thing very clear to all and sundry. Make certain you tell them you are not my sister.”


Your sister? Why should anyone believe such an absurdity?” she said hotly shaken by the very notion.

He touched her then. His elegant, pale hand reached out and touched her chin, tilting her face up to his. He looked at her carefully, his dark green eyes revealing only cursory interest. “I cannot imagine,” he said after a moment. “But people do come up with the oddest notions. As long as you deny it every chance you get, things should be fine.” His hand left her, and he rose, tall, elegant, distant.

Her face felt warm and cold where he’d touched her. She had never wanted a man’s touch before in her life. She certainly didn’t want the touch of this beautiful, cold-eyed, coldhearted lord, did she?

She was unwilling to give in so easily. “Are you certain this is quite wise on your part?” she called after him as he started from the room.

He halted, turning to look at her. “Perhaps I’m dull-witted this afternoon,” he said. “Not that I’ve ever been particularly concerned with wise actions, but why don’t you explain your concerns?”

BOOK: Anne Stuart
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