To Tempt a Rake - By Cara Elliott Page 0,72

details.”

“By now it should be obvious that I am not like most females.”

“Quite.” His expression was unreadable as his lazy, lidded gaze locked on her face.

She felt herself turning uncomfortably warm under the scrutiny. Which Kate Woodbridge did he see? The eccentric bluestocking? The hot-tempered hellion? The bold-as-brass thief?

The tawdry jade who had just offered herself on a platter?

To hell with what he thought. She lifted her chin. “And no doubt you find my behavior sinks me beneath contempt.”

“Who am I to judge?” he said softly. “It seems to me that you have shown admirable resourcefulness and courage in dealing with some very difficult situations.” His mouth twitched. “Considering my own flouting of Society’s rules, it would be awfully hypocritical to condemn you for doing the same.”

“Most gentlemen would not be so egalitarian,” she said.

At that, a glint of amusement lit in his eyes, sun-flecked sparks dancing across the deep topaz hue. “By now it should be obvious that I am not like most gentlemen, Kate.”

True—no other man had such beautiful brandy-hued eyes. Dark, sensuous. Mysterious.

“Speaking of observation,” she finally managed to say, “I’m anxious to hear what you noticed. About Von Seilig, that is.”

“To begin with, he was not killed by your knife.”

She frowned. “But the magistrate said that the blade had pierced the colonel’s heart. Surely he could not be mistaken about that.”

“A sliver of steel was shoved between his ribs,” agreed Marco. “But the wound did not bleed overly much. I’m quite sure that he was already dead when he was stabbed.”

Her consternation deepened. “Then why would someone go to the trouble of stealing my knife?”

“Actually, I believe you left it in the herb basket,” answered Marco. “As for why someone would use it, I should think that would be obvious to someone of your intelligence.”

“But why?” A numbness seized her, making it difficult to speak. “Why would someone want to frame me for murder?”

“A good question. Let us hope we can uncover the answer.”

We. The simple word was like a lifeline thrown into a storm-tossed sea. And at the moment she felt a desperate need to cling to some strand of assurance that she wasn’t alone.

“Thank you,” she blurted out. “I confess, I am very grateful for your offer of help, Lord Ghiradelli. It’s very… noble of you.”

Marco leaned in close, and for the hitch of a heartbeat she thought he was going to kiss her.

But instead, his mouth remained hovering a hairsbreadth from hers. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking me noble, cara. I am not.” The earthy scent of him swirled around her, forcing the air from her lungs. “I’m an amoral scoundrel, and you must never forget that.”

Kate touched the tips of her fingers to his cheek. He flinched but she didn’t draw them away. “And yet, Il Serpenti, it seems to me that your fangs are not quite as sharp as you would have everyone believe.”

“Serpents are cold-blooded creatures, ruled by a primitive brain,” he said in a rough whisper. “They strike without warning.” With a flick of his hand, he thrust her away. “Don’t get too close, Kate. I’m poison.”

She slowly rubbed at her wrist.

“Go back inside and take Lady Charlotte up to her rooms. I’d like a little time to dig around in the conservatory, and it would probably be best if I did so alone.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but turned on his heel and cut across the swath of lawn.

Kate watched his wind-whipped hair dance around his shoulders, suddenly reminded of Medusa and her head of writhing snakes. Dangerous, dangerous. The very air seemed to hiss a warning.

Then the clouds scudded over the sun, and his shape was swallowed in shadows.

Chapter Nineteen

What the devil do you think you are doing in here?”

Charlotte straightened with a start from the conservatory walkway, nearly dropping her brass-handed magnifying glass. “Really, sir!” she huffed, her face flushing in indignation. “Must you creep up on me like that?”

“I can hardly be accused of ‘creeping’ in my own residence, Lady Fenimore,” said Cluyne stiffly.

“A residence that is now home to a murderer,” she pointed out.

His nostrils flared as he drew in a sharp breath. “Which is all the more reason for you to be ensconced in the safety of your rooms, rather than wandering around alone, looking for trouble.”

“Trouble?” she sputtered. “I am looking for any evidence that might help prove Kate innocent of the crime.”

The duke pinched at the bridge of his nose. “You—you don’t think she did it, then?”

“Of course

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