In the Dark with the Duke by Christi Caldwell Page 0,34
show for a meeting with Lucifer. Which wouldn’t be an inaccurate response on the lady’s part. “Payment?”
“Tsk. Tsk. Never tell me you thought my offer to teach you would be altruistic on my part.”
“N-no.” She followed his approach with those eyes that served as a window into her every fear. The lady took several steps away from him. Her back knocked against the bar. “But I . . .” Her words trailed off as he came to a stop before her. “What do you want?”
Did she refer to this moment? Or their arrangement? If he’d been a betting man, he would have bet the former. “A favor. If or when I require it.”
She dampened her lips once again in that telltale gesture of her unease. “A favor.”
He flashed a smile. “Worry not, Flittermouse. I don’t desire you, and I’ve no intention of bedding you.”
A blush started on the lady’s neck and worked its way up her cheeks until her face was suffused with color. And he noted for the first time that she wasn’t such a plain creature, after all. In fact, she was really rather . . . interesting.
“I don’t need nor want anything . . . at this moment. But the time will come that I do, and I want payment made, no exceptions.”
Lila hesitated, and it was the first instant since her arrival out back and her return that he saw the wheels of her mind turning in her eyes, the questioning of her decision in being here, and the peril of entering into any pact with him. “I can pay you . . .” She fished around the inside of her cloak.
“I don’t want your money.”
Lila withdrew her hand. “Very well. It is a deal: an unnamed favor granted at a later date.”
Chapter 8
Dearest Lila,
It has been entirely too long. You must rejoin me. There are so many joys you’ve missed out upon. Might I persuade you to accompany me about town?
Your truest, longest, and dearest friend,
Annalee
When Lila had been a girl awaiting the day of her Come Out, she had dreamed about the gowns she’d wear. The satin fabrics. The soft, draped silks. She had reveled in each appointment to the modiste, where she’d shed her long skirts for a woman’s garments.
Following Peterloo, she’d seen the inherent silliness in the joy she’d found in clothing. What had it all been about? From that day on, gowns had come to serve but one purpose—practicality.
It had been so long since Lila had mingled with the living, she’d long lost touch with the latest fashions worn by ladies for ton events. She didn’t know what they donned for rides about Hyde Park or to go to the theatre, because, in short, those were places she’d vowed to never again visit.
As she scoured the many garments hanging inside the blue-and-gold-gilded armoire, she had even less knowledge as to what she should wear for her upcoming fighting lessons.
There was only one certainty: her former friend, Annalee, would know. Oh, Lila had once had all the answers for their pair. But not any longer. Now, Annalee would know precisely what to wear or not wear.
The chiming clock struck four, lending an urgency to her search.
She briefly paused. Her fingers locked on the smooth satin of a pale-blue gown with crystals dripping from the sleeves and bodice. The fabric gleamed soft and lustrous.
What would it be like, to stand before a man such as Hugh Savage in this dress . . . ?
As soon as the thought slid in, fire burnt her cheeks.
Worry not, Flittermouse. I don’t desire you, and I’ve no intention of bedding you . . .
Lila compressed her lips into a line and shoved the gown to the back of the armoire.
What did she care whether he found her desirable? In fact, she should be relieved that Hugh Savage, the ruthless fighter whom she’d be spending close quarters with for the foreseeable future, didn’t.
It is because you feel like less than a woman . . . It was because she’d become a shadow of the person she’d been, a person she didn’t recognize, and with his every sneer or jeering taunt, she was reminded of the person she wasn’t. Whereas Annalee had rejoined Polite Society, and she’d done so with a splash that had scandalized the ton. Notorious for wearing her crimson skirts, she’d shocked the world. While Lila? Lila had lived her life safely.