Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I expect whips and restraints await Sampson Winters this evening. ‘Lucky devil,’ I say without thought, making myself start. I can only conclude that my lack of action these past few weeks is contributing to my pathetic thoughts. I should like to be entertained by Scarlett Dare about as much as I should like to be tortured. I look around, as if searching for witnesses to my slip up.
And I find one.
‘Lucky?’
I roll my eyes. She looks to be over her earlier fluster. Good. So am I. ‘Are you still here?’ I pick up my feet and walk onwards, deciding I’m done trying to stop her being ruined or murdered. She clearly has a death wish.
Reckless. Unmanageable.
‘Go home, Taya,’ I say tiredly, exhausted by this evening. By the whole day, in fact. Not only have I had my plans derailed by my ambitious sister, I have been forced to endure the silver tongue of Taya Winters.
And her sparkling beauty.
And heavenly scent.
Forbidden!
‘Oohhh Fraaaank,’ a young, sweet voice sings.
I look up at a window of our house, seeing Clara in much the same position that I saw her in earlier when she was also spying on me. Basically, with a front row seat to all of my pathetic shows. The relief I feel that I have found her is lost amid my growing annoyance. ‘Go to bed,’ I demand as she looks between Taya and me. ‘This minute, or so help me God …’
She grins, infuriatingly smug, and pulls the window down, and, without looking at Taya, I walk on, exhausted. But stop. Think. ‘Bugger it all,’ I mumble, turning back, keeping my eyes low, and taking the top of her arm. ‘Home,’ I order.
‘I can walk myself,’ she protests, stumbling along beside me, her spare hand trying to prise my fingers from her flesh.
‘Not fast enough, and I should like to get to bed.’ I need to rise in the morning with a clear head and revise my plan now that I have learned of the unfortunate fact that my beloved sister Eliza has postponed her travels.
‘Anyone ever tell you what a terrible gentleman you are?’
‘Never, perhaps because to everyone else I am the perfect gentleman.’
‘So it is just me that is lucky enough to have to endure your winning personality.’
‘Apparently so.’
‘Lucky devil,’ she whispers.
‘Jealous?’
She snorts, disgusted. ‘You’re nothing but a rake, Frank Melrose, and as I have said before, I am not partial to rakes.’
She’s full of the devil. ‘If you find me so repulsive, my lady, then staying away from me should not be a problem for you, should it?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Good. I’m glad we’ve got that matter resolved.’
We make it to the gate outside number one, and I open the creaky little thing and push her through it, looking up when their butler, Hercules, opens the door. He shakes his head in dismay. I get it, my friend. I do. ‘Good evening,’ I say, nodding to him and scowling at Taya, before turning and heading home, fighting to get this funny buzzing feeling on my skin whenever she is close under control. It makes no sense to me. It’s quite frustrating.
Chapter 5
The next morning at a most unfortunate early hour, I stroll into the dining room as I fasten the buttons of my new grey velvet jacket. The table is partially laid, courtesy of our trusted butler Dalton, who never ceases to amaze me with his uncanny ability to know exactly who needs what and when, such as now. I have risen precisely seventy-five minutes earlier than my usual nine o’clock, and, somehow, Dalton has a fresh pot of coffee awaiting me.
I pour myself a cup and wander to the window, feeling somewhat melancholy as I note the screaming silence. The emptiness. Other than coffee on the table upon my arrival to the dining room, I would also usually find the eldest of my sisters, Eliza. Not today.
My attention is captured by movement on the other side of the square. ‘Lord above.’ I lower my coffee from my lips as I watch Sampson Winters slip out of number six Belmore Square, otherwise known as Scarlett Dare’s home. Or, not so widely known, as her place of work. Whatever we are to call it. He stayed all night? I wince, thinking he must be rather … sore. I should have known she would get her claws into Sampson Winters. He has looks and a cheeky, happy-go-lucky charm about him, the exact opposite of his older brother, Johnny, who has always been quite brooding and serious. Eliza has loosened him up somewhat, it must be said, but he remains quite a foreboding fellow for the most part. I hum, looking back at the empty table. I do not like this. I put my coffee down and leave the dining room.
‘Sir?’ Dalton calls.