how had that devolved into him staring at her like a hungry predator as she entered her room, then sparring with her, to then convincing himself not to toss her on the bed and have his carnal and oh-so-wicked way with her?
So it’s ravishment, then?
He closed his eyes against the memory of that husky whisper. The heat in her eyes as she stared at him had affected his senses most profoundly. And it shocked Nicolas, this unanticipated interest on his part. Lady Maryann had wanted him to kiss her, but beyond the curious arousal in her eyes, there had also been fright, and that awareness had leashed his as nothing else could.
She moved away from the window, and he let out the breath he’d been holding. Moving with efficient stealth, he walked away and jumped over the side gate, lingering in the shadows cast by the small trees and hedges before strolling down the streets.
“Her damn mouth needs to be outlawed,” he muttered, thoroughly irritated with his attraction. And her eyes, bloody hell, they were the finest he’d ever seen. Golden brown flecked with sparking green at the center. “And why is she so fearless?”
When she had realized someone lingered in the dark, she hadn’t screamed or fainted, which he truly expected. It had intrigued him that she went for a weapon when it shouldn’t have, given the night with the shovel. Her skill with a rapier was greater than that of most gentlemen he knew, and her mettle might even be tougher. The brilliant splash of her unbound hair had captivated him, and even the peek of bare feet and dainty toes had tied him in knots.
He had deliberately acted the scoundrel, slashing open her nightgown, and even then the damn woman hadn’t fainted away. Her fresh, artless loveliness would tempt any man, yet based on the little digging he had done, she was often overlooked. “Damn fools.”
How could anyone not notice her? Yet Nicolas had done so for years. According to David, Lady Maryann had been out in society for the last four seasons. If not for that night in the gardens, would Nicolas have even noticed her?
He might never know, and it should not matter. In another place, another time, she might have been a welcome diversion. They would not be acquaintances, friends, or lovers. Especially if her brother was the black Dahlia, that would mean he was one of the men who had hurt Arianna. And Nicolas would irrevocably ruin him should it be proved true—the men who violated her could not be redeemed, and everyone would pay for their crimes. If her brother became his enemy, then Lady Maryann would indirectly become his enemy.
Arianna. It was hard to recall the shape of her face, the sound of her voice, or how she had tasted. They had kissed several times, but he had prevented himself from being callous. He was the son of a powerful marquess and she the daughter of servants. Their match would never have been accepted, and he’d promised himself to not ruin her.
Yet in a different way, he had.
The eagle soars indifferently while the wolf betrays…
He was the eagle. That was how she’d always seen him and had joked about it often enough. She had believed him indifferent to her pain and died believing those blackguards were his friends, and that they’d had his approval to debauch her against her will.
And why wouldn’t she have believed it? When Arianna had confessed her love, he had looked down his damned aristocratic nose and reminded her she was the daughter of servants and it was his duty to marry someone of the right station. He’d admitted his budding love but told her they could not marry. The shame, pain, and crushed dreams in her eyes had almost felled him.
He often wondered if those who had never felt its sting understood the absolute power of guilt. There were days its claws and talons ripped into his gut and tore him apart. She had been his friend, a girl he loved, and he had not been there in her greatest time of need. Five young men from the finest families in the aristocracy had ruined her purity with rank callousness, and unable to bear the pain and shame of her situation, she had flung herself into the river.
Nicolas entered the parked carriage which had been ordered to linger several houses down from Lady Maryann’s. He rapped on the roof, and the coachman urged the horses into