“You mistake the matter,” she said. “He’s the very fiend of duplicity. To lower one’s guard around him would be courting disaster.”
More and more interesting. “Did you lower your guard around him, dearest?” Lydia said. “Because he was certainly watching you quite closely. Did he…do anything to you? Offer you an insult?”
“Of course not,” Elinor said with a shaky laugh. “Do I look like the kind of woman to interest a libertine like Lord Rohan? He merely has a peculiar sense of humor, one he uses to torment others. You may be right—he certainly has his choice of some of the greatest beauties of Paris. I still insist you be careful if you happen to encounter him again. I would presume that we shan’t be bothered by him any more in future, but it would be a mistake to assume that fate would be kind.”
“I think we’ll see him again,” Lydia said, not bothering to cover her small smile.
Elinor caught it. “If you find something amusing about this situation I would be most grateful if you would share it with me. Because the humor of it escapes my attention entirely.”
“He likes you, Nell. And why shouldn’t he? Any man with sense would see what a wonderful woman you are. He won’t be able to keep away from you…”
“Stop it!” Elinor said in a sharper tone than Lydia had ever heard from her. She took a deep breath. “For one thing, you’re very wrong. Yesterday I was a curiosity, nothing more. A…a virtuous woman in a land of whores. He’s a shallow man, easily bored.”
“He doesn’t strike me as shallow, Nell.”
Elinor ignored her. “Secondly, even if he did harbor some demented attraction for me, his intentions would be worse than dishonorable. You know the gossip we’ve heard about the Heavenly Host. It’s true.”
“They drink the blood of virgins?” Lydia shrieked, horrified.
“Of course not,” Elinor said in a cranky voice. “The other rumors. They gather together for the most licentious of activities, wearing strange garments and behaving like…like animals. You wouldn’t want me to be part of such a world, would you? Even if he wanted me?”
Lydia looked at her sister’s brown eyes, more troubled than she’d seen them in many years. “I’m sorry, love. I’ve been thoughtless. I hate to see you judge yourself so unfairly, but you’re right. That kind of interest would be disastrous.”
“That goes for Mr. Reading as well, Lyddie.”
Lydia knew how to bat her eyes and fool landlords and creditors. She could fool her sister as well, particularly since Elinor was so distraught. Besides, he’d been nothing but polite, that twisted, beautiful face of his mostly devoid of expression.
Just as Lydia knew how to fool people, she could also read them better than most. Charles Reading was different. Beneath his determinedly distant behavior, she knew he was feeling the same odd, irrational pull that was knotting her stomach and making her knees shake. She who had flirted with any number of handsome young men and remained untouched. All it had taken was a scarred, unhappy man and she was dreaming…
No, she was losing her mind. The house was cold, the last bit of the fire almost out. Elinor didn’t know, but Lydia planned to meet with Monsieur Garot the greengrocer this evening when he closed up shop. And she was going to do whatever she had to do to shoulder some of the burden that Elinor took on herself.
She was calm, determined, undespairing. She knew as well as Nell that Charles Reading wasn’t for her.
It didn’t mean that she couldn’t dream.
“Of course, Nell,” she said absently. “He’s of no interest to me. I’m waiting for a wealthy prince, remember?”
And Elinor smiled back at her, too abstracted to realize that for the first time her sister was lying to her.
He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with all this, Rohan thought several hours later from his exceedingly uncomfortable position on the narrow cot in Etienne’s well-equipped surgery. That had been money well spent, he mused dreamily. In fact, it had been simply to occupy a hotheaded Frenchman from being an annoyance. He never thought it might save his life one day.
They’d given him laudanum—he was familiar enough with its delightful effects to recognize it, and he welcomed the drugged daze. He could remember a few unhappy moments when Etienne had dug around in the flesh of his upper arm for the bullet, and no doubt the young man had taken a fair amount of pleasure in inflicting