Sin by Sharon Page

Author:Sharon Page
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Published: 2012-07-22T09:15:30+00:00

Lydia sat back with an exasperated sigh. Trent’s clever companion had locked her trunk. She rose and stole to the bedside table of Vixen’s room. The surface was bare, the drawer empty except for the obligatory ropes and a short riding crop. No key was to be found.

She stroked her sore neck—she could barely speak, it seemed her throat had swollen, and the pain had grown worse, not better. She had half a mind to publish Chartrand’s secret anyway.

Half a mind indeed—he’d kill her.

At least her ploy to lure Trent and his jade away had worked.

She should be recovering in bed and her door firmly locked. This was madness—but she wanted this business finished with haste, and if she wanted her money from Trent, she required leverage.

Stroking her poor bruised neck, Lydia sat down on the edge of the rumpled bed. Would this prove to be worth the money she’d paid to bribe the maid?

There was the escritoire. The screen around the chamber pot. The mantel. The wardrobe.

Her only hope might be the wardrobe but she doubted the key was to be found in the room. She pulled the doors open quickly, releasing the scent of lavender. She fingered the dresses, testing the quality of material.

There were few dresses—silks and muslins—but not the latest fashions or the best quality. The seamstress who had constructed them was adequate but not talented. Trent had not purchased these dresses, she would wager on that. There were too few of them. And he would insist on purchasing from the most fashionable modiste.

The girl’s underclothes were in the drawers and some were positively ghastly. Functional cloth not expensive silk. Plain and dull.

But it made no sense. Even if Trent had acquired a country girl as his paramour, he would buy her decent clothes.

Who was Trent’s lover?

Did she dare take the time to search Trent’s room? Really, what would she hope to find there? But she had this opportunity, one she would not have again…

Lydia moved swiftly across the floor. Smug delight soared when the doorknob of the connecting door turned beneath her hand—

Footsteps. Outside, in the hallway.

Numbing panic rose. What if Trent had seen through her ruse? What if he’d only left long enough to lure her to walk into a trap. He could accuse her of stealing. Have her arrested or transported—

Her legs felt mired in mud. She must stay calm. Her neck throbbed. She must remember she was not a desperate, friendless, penniless girl anymore…

Get out. Get out. The words beat at her, like a desperate bird trapped against glass.

She ran for the door.

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