Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,65
randy as hell. Although—” He reached out and ran the backs of his fingers along her damp cheek. “The lovely girl has become a ravishing woman. If I had known you would grow into what you are today, I might well have looked for you. Before this Radnor found you.”
His touch lured her, but his words insulted her again. If I had known you were going to whore for a man, I might have considered having you whore for me.
She stared at him, trying to remember the Charles of her memories. She doubted the man in front of her had ever felt the love and joy he had shown in her dream.
She did not trust herself to control how anger sent hot branches out of her pain. She needed to get away from him before fury made her a madwoman.
“I must go. Is there a garden portal in front? Yes? I will leave that way. I apologize for intruding.”
As she walked away, she concentrated on keeping her expression calm and her back straight. She did not want him or anyone else to see just how humiliated she felt, or the desolation that threatened to engulf her.
Chapter Fourteen
The crash broke through his dream. He started, then stared at the wall. It had come from Rosamund’s suite.
Another crash, and the tinkling sound of something falling. Glass, or china. Then nothing.
He rose from the chair where he had fallen asleep awaiting Rosamund’s return, so he could tell her about the rest of his conversation with Forestier last night. The light filtering into his chamber told him it was late afternoon.
A deep moan came through the wall, low and long, like someone in pain. Alarmed, he strode to the door. Perhaps she had not returned in good time because she had been hurt.
He knocked on Rosamund’s door. Silence. He waited, listening for footsteps. The silence gave up nothing.
He wondered if he had been mistaken. Upon returning to his chamber, he stood still and listened again. When the barest noise penetrated the wall, he went to it and pressed his ear against the plaster.
He was close to concluding his abrupt awakening had left his senses befuddled when he heard something. A wrenching sob, muffled by the wall, followed by a curse.
She hadn’t opened the door, so she must want privacy. Well, to hell to that.
He walked out to the terrace, climbed up onto the balustrade, and jumped the four feet to the one that surrounded Rosamund’s balcony. He dropped down onto her terrace.
Through the glass, he could see her on the edge of the divan, her body folded so her face rested on both hands. The crown of her head hovered over her lap. No sounds came to him through the glass, but her body careened back and forth enough to alarm him.
He didn’t knock this time. He turned the latch and entered.
Her body stilled. After a few sniffs, her hands fell to her lap. She did not straighten. She did not look at him.
“Are you unwell?” he asked. “Were you hurt in some way?”
She found enough composure to sit erectly. She sniffed again and wiped her eyes with a crumpled handkerchief clutched in one hand. She still did not look at him.
She spoke quietly, just above a whisper. “I have not been physically harmed. There was no accident with the carriage, or a theft of my person.” She smiled ruefully. “I am mourning someone—something. Do not be concerned.”
She appeared so damned sad. Her eyes still glistened from her tears and her expression broke his heart. He ventured closer.
“Yet I am concerned. Did you receive bad news from home? Your sister? A friend?”
She shook her head. She looked at him, finally. Her gaze pierced right into him, as if she calculated what she had in him. Then she sat back on the divan, and her whole body heaved in a long sigh.
“I learned today that something I believed for a long time, something me heart counted on and trusted in, was a lie. So, you see—” She lifted the hand with the handkerchief and made a hopeless gesture with it.
He sat on the divan. “Then you are entitled to a good cry.” He set his arm on the back of the divan, behind her head. “I’ve a shoulder if you need one.”
She blinked once, twice. Then she slid over and made use of that shoulder, resting her head against it. She dabbed at her nose with the handkerchief. He fished out a clean one from