“You’re right, such a pretty word for what they intend. Rape is what it is.”
David flinched. “The man is reputed to be a skilled lover. I am more than certain he will be very persuasive, and she will succumb to his seductive wiles. I urge you to recall the lady will be married to a respectable title. And she will be safe from those who might be wondering if she is important to you.”
Nicolas walked away, lightly jumping over the wrought-iron fence, his great cloak swirling around his boots. David silently kept pace and cursed under his breath when Nicolas turned right onto Russell Street instead of left.
“Have you lost your senses? You are going to the duchess’s?”
He did not slow his strides. “What of it?”
“I cannot conceive that you should attend,” David said tightly. “You are not dressed for the occasion and as such, your presence will stir unnecessary attention and speculation.”
“Your company is not required,” Nicolas said, coolly dismissive.
“What is it about her?” David ground out, grabbing on to Nicolas’s arm. “We have a plan tonight to reel in Weychell on our hook. One of the men who hurt our Arianna. And yet you are running to save this girl…this girl who is nothing?”
“You are comfortable with an innocent being shredded?”
David grimaced. “She’ll be respectably married to Talbot after.”
The ice in Nicolas’s gut grew cold enough to encompass his entire being.
“Do not look at me like that,” David snapped, appearing wary.
“And how is that?” Nicolas murmured icily, doing nothing to temper the dangerous feeling clawing up inside him.
“You are spending too much time watching her, protecting her from a force that might not be there,” David hissed, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“How do you know how much time I spend watching her?”
David scoffed. “I noticed!”
Something lethal trembled through Nicolas. “Only if you’ve been watching her.”
The wolf betrays…
“Bloody hell, man, do you see how you are looking at me? For a bit of skirt, you—”
“For a bit of what?”
David faltered, then looked away from him before meeting his eyes once more. “I hate to see your distraction when now is the time you should be more determined. We are almost at the end, Nicolas. The end…after ten long years. I know how calculating you are…how shrewd and ruthless, so she must serve a purpose for you, I can tell, but she is just one piece on your board. A pawn. Do not lose sight of everything for a bloody insignificant pawn.”
The silence that fell between them felt brittle.
“I will meet you at the Asylum in a couple of hours,” Nicolas said flatly, whirled around, and headed to the duchess’s ball.
Is that what you are to me, Lady Maryann…a pawn?
There was merit in David’s argument. Her marriage would make her safe if the danger he perceived truly lingered in the shadows. Yet acute distaste filled him for the duke’s sister and her cohort. The very idea that they would be so underhanded urged him to teach them a lesson they would not forget anytime soon—or ever.
Lady Maryann deserved a choice, always. It was that simple for him.
Except it is more.
He could feel it, simmering low and brutal in his gut, waiting to burst free should he let it. A sharp hiss escaped him, and he ruthlessly disciplined all the fire of lust and strange emotions twisting inside him. This was simply a good deed he would do for any lady in trouble.
As if to mock his will, her light brown and green-flecked eyes swam into his thoughts. That remarkably ravishing smile she owned, and her clever tongue and defiant will. That sharp, retaliatory bite on his mouth.
Racoons do that.
He wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted another soul. Perhaps if he should kiss her, even once, he would find there was nothing remarkable there and she would simply disappear from his thoughts and waking dreams. Yet he did not want to risk kissing her or being too close, not when her brother might be his enemy.
The best way to let her disappear is to let her marry, his conscience taunted. Let Talbot seduce her to his bed.
The feelings that scythed through Nicolas’s heart were so unfamiliar and ridiculous that they took several befuddling moments to register to his senses—raw, primal possessiveness and protectiveness. If he were an uncivilized creature, he would have been screaming “she’s mine”.
Nicolas felt…unnerved.
He took a slow, deep breath, steadying himself against the unfamiliar emotions, and moved through the