The Duke by Kerrigan Byrne

Author:Kerrigan Byrne [Byrne, Kerrigan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
Published: 2017-02-07T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Imogen had suppressed her tears for so long, her throat ached and her head throbbed. Her home, her sanctuary, and the refuge she had been trying so long to build for others had been infiltrated, desecrated by death and brutality.

Perched on the shaded bench she’d shared with Trenwyth the prior evening, she watched as Inspectors Argent and Morley conducted their investigation.

Imogen refused to look in the fountain, where the evidence of sexual brutality floated on the surface, stitched with sullied white lilies.

Poor Lady Broadmore. How terrified she must have been. Did she try to call for help? Had her ordeal been quick or drawn out? Had she been violated before her death? Or after? Imogen put her head in her hands. She’d slept through someone’s assault and murder. How would she ever forgive herself? She’d been so angry. So heated and then humiliated by Cole that she’d spent the rest of the night attempting to salvage the evening, and had barely given the absent Lady Broadmore another thought.

She’d gone up to bed after everyone had left and all donations had been tallied with a sense of smug satisfaction. Despite Trenwyth’s dire fit of public temper and Lady Broadmore’s ignorant comments, she’d done better than she’d ever predicted. A small, spiteful part of her had wanted to make sure they knew of her success. To prove that she would neither be intimidated nor dissuaded. That she’d moved others to action and charity despite their best efforts to sabotage her.

She should have looked for her missing guest. She might have noticed, then, that Lady Broadmore’s cape and pelisse were still in the cloakroom, but the woman was nowhere to be found. The villain had been in her home as she’d gone to sleep, blissfully unaware of the ghastly crime being committed on her own property.

Imogen blinked up, unable to believe her eyes for a moment as Trenwyth materialized across her garden. Where he came from, she could only guess. She was sitting by the garden door and surely would have seen him arrive from the house.

Hair and eyes blazing like burnished ore, he surged against Argent’s and Morley’s restraining holds until his wide, restless gaze latched upon her, and the flame flickered out upon an expression she’d almost identify as relief.

Dear God, what was he telling them? Why did the way he was looking at her now make her want to clutch her robe closed to the throat? She felt so exposed to him, even in her modest nightgown and wrapper. It was easy to fear that the force of his masculinity gave him some sort of inhuman capability. She absurdly worried that he could see through not just her clothing, but also the secrets that shrouded her very existence. She’d been naked in front of him once before.

But never truly exposed.

Though, she’d been unutterably stupid last night, kissing him like she had. It had been a dangerous move. One born of impulse and anger. And it could have cost her everything.

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