her.
There were clothes as well, though no sign that Rohan had ever been here, except for the various stains on the sheets and her body. Someone, presumably Jeanne-Louise, had chosen a dress that was simple to put on by herself, though she had a bit of a struggle doing it up. Her entire body ached, in places she didn’t know she could hurt, and a brief, worried smile crossed her face.
She’d seen it happen with her mother so many times she knew how these things worked. The blush of attraction, the wild, irresponsible passion. And then parting. And Viscount Rohan was known for his partings.
There was a pair of sturdy shoes, as well. And, she noticed with sudden horror, her cloak. Not the cheap one that she had tried to sneak out with. But the one provided for her. The money had been collected and put back in the small purse as well. She stared at it all for a long moment.
Did he want her to leave? Now that he’d had her, was he done? It certainly looked that way. And did that mean that Lydia was free as well?
If he thought she was now going to slink away like a soiled dove he was mistaken. If he wanted her gone he would have to tell her to her face. She picked up the cloak and purse and opened the door.
A footman was waiting, not her friend Antoine. “Good morning, mademoiselle. Do you need some assistance?”
“I need to find my way back to my rooms.”
“I beg your pardon, mademoiselle, but those rooms have now been filled by his lordship’s guests.”
She didn’t know if her face whitened. It felt like it. It felt as if all the blood had drained from her body.
“Then I wish to speak to his lordship. Can you take me to him?”
“Of course, mademoiselle. I am not quite sure where he is right now, but I will take you to his library and send word that you wish to speak to him. May I tell him what it is about?”
“You may not,” she said, clutching the purse tightly. And she followed the footman down the long, dark hall.
Rohan was sitting at his desk, looking through papers, when Charles Reading stormed in. “What did you do with her?”
Rohan looked up, deceptively calm. “What do you think I did with her, Charles? Exactly what I said I would.” He reached for his glass of burgundy. “Would you care for a glass?”
“No. I need to know what you’re going to do now.”
“My dear Charles, are you enamored? I thought it was the silly chit of a sister you wanted,” Rohan said in his silken voice. His hand didn’t have a tremor, he noticed. He had moved past the debacle of the last twelve hours quite well, he thought.
“Don’t play games with me, Francis,” Charles said bitterly.
“In truth,” Rohan said, “I’m much more interested in what happened after I…decamped last night. Is the late Sir Christopher stinking up one of my rooms?”
Charles shook his head. “Of course not. Your cousin came and took him. He’ll see to it that the man gets a decent burial.”
“Knowing Etienne, he’ll probably cut him apart and observe his organs first,” Rohan said in his light, airy voice. “So no unfortunate aftermath?”
“Only that your guests are at fever pitch. They seem to like the smell of blood.”
“I’m so glad I could be of service,” he said smoothly.
“What are you going to do with her, Francis? She’s a gentlewoman. You can’t treat her like one of your whores.”
“Oh, my dear Charles, that’s exactly what I did, and I assure you she liked it enormously.” He gave Charles his most angelic smile. “There are two choices, I suppose. Send her on her way with enough money to support her for a reasonable amount of time. After all, one night’s tup shouldn’t equal a lifetime of support. But perhaps enough to get her to England.”
“And the other choice?”
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I had considered introducing her to some of the Host’s more moderate behaviors. Veronique was extremely interested in her, and you know how she likes an audience. And I’d be more than happy to see her drifting around here in scanty clothes, enjoying herself with some of our young bucks.”
Charles looked at him, long and hard. “I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. “You’re lying to me.”
“My dear Charles, why should I lie? Miss Harriman means absolutely nothing to me. Since I’m a charitable man I have no