The Lady in Red by Kelly Bowen

Author:Kelly Bowen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2017-12-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Charlotte was on fire.

No, that wasn’t entirely true—her shoulder was on fire while the rest of her was strangely chilled. Amid the merciless throbbing, she struggled to open her eyes as her mind fought to make sense of where she was. She was lying flat on her back, staring up at familiar rough-hewn rafters.

She was back in her room in the studio. How did—

It came back to her in a rush that made her flinch and surge upward.

Except she didn’t get anywhere because two hands were pushing her back down with an uncompromising strength. “Don’t move,” a voice growled in her ear. “I’m not quite done.”

A wave of realizations rolled over Charlotte, each worse than the last. She had been in a bloody street brawl. At some point in time, she must have fainted, because she didn’t remember the journey back here. She was naked from the waist up, save for the bindings around her breasts. Flynn Rutledge was seated beside her, doing something to her shoulder that felt like he was applying a branding iron.

And there was no way in hell that anyone in this room believed that she was a he any longer.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, while shoring up her defenses and her arguments because she was going to need them all.

“Stitching.” His voice was grim. “And I’d be obliged if you refrained from moving again. This will sting.”

It was all he said in warning before she had the vague impression of something cold hitting her skin, followed by a searing pain that left her gasping. She turned her head away from the overwhelming stench of whiskey, telling herself that was making her eyes water.

“You should have run when you had the chance,” Rutledge said impassively from beside her, leaving Charlotte to guess what he was thinking. “When I told you to.”

“And I told you I wasn’t leaving you,” she gritted. Even though it had become abundantly clear that Flynn Rutledge had been telling the truth when he had said that he could handle himself.

“You could have been killed,” he said.

“I wasn’t.” Her teeth clenched. “Though I hate that I fainted.”

“Shock,” Rutledge said, bending over her shoulder again. “And you bled like a stuck pig.”

“If I had to do it again, I still wouldn’t run.” That was the truth, and for some reason, she needed this man to know it, even though that decision may have cost her everything. But the passive Charlotte who had allowed others to steer the course of her life for far too long had been left behind in London. The Charlotte who had bargained with a terrifying man named King, trusted a baron she didn’t know, and struck out on her own would not apologize for her actions now. Whatever happened from here on out, she would, at the very least, have a voice.

She listened to Rutledge’s steady breathing as he worked. “Tell me your name,” he said finally.

She felt a tug at her shoulder, and fire erupted anew. “Charlotte,” she said through clenched teeth.

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