The Rogue by Bradley Celeste

Author:Bradley, Celeste [Bradley, Celeste]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 0312931158
Publisher: St. Martin's
Published: 2005-01-02T07:00:00+00:00

Lady Boswell rushed out to greet Jane as she mounted the front steps and entered the front hall. The musicale was already in progress, to judge from the screeching soprano currently sharing her talents.

"I'm sorry to be so late," Jane blurted. "The traffic—"

"Jane, dear! Are you unwell?" Lady Boswell blinked at her worriedly. "You look so feverish!"

Jane turned to catch a glimpse of herself in the entry hall mirror. Good heavens, no wonder her hostess was so alarmed. Jane scarcely recognized the pale reflection with the bright feverish spots burning in both cheeks. "The carriage jostled so." She pressed her hands to her face. "I—"

I don't want to be here, I don't want to be in London, I don't want to be alone anymore. I want to go home. I want to see my mother and I will never, ever see her again. The tears began to well up inside and Jane was afraid that if she began to weep, she would never stop. She would turn London into Venice with her tears.

That thought brought a bark of wild laughter to her lips. Lady Boswell looked at her as if she truly were mad. At this moment in time, Jane could not swear that she was not.

"I think I—I must return home," she managed to say.

Lady Boswell nodded emphatically. "Yes, dear. I think you should. I'll have your uncle's man bring the carriage around again…" The woman nearly ran from Jane.

Jane almost laughed again. Her uncle's man. Owned by her uncle, bought and paid for with Jane herself, willing chattel that she was!

Her uncle's man. Such a vast understatement of the facts all but made Jane sit right down on the marble front steps and screech with furious, agonized laughter. She bit it back, digging her teeth into her bottom lip until it was sure to bleed. She didn't care, she only wanted not to become more of a spectacle than she already was. Several people had come into the front hall and were watching her weave her way back outside. Tomorrow, the town would be abuzz with the incident of Lady Jane Pennington and her carriage sickness.

She nearly began giggling again. If they only knew!

Only the thought of remaining on display for one more dangerous moment could compel her to get back into that carriage with Ethan Damont. At least with him, she need not hide her confusion or her pain. At least with him, she could freely vent her wrath—

And why is that?

Oh, dear God. It could not be that she trusted him still? How could that be, after the way he'd humiliated her—after what he had done to her?

Worse, after what he'd commanded her to do to herself?

And she had done it. Horror swept her as she recalled her own simplicity. She'd mindlessly, willingly obeyed every word from his lips, every erotic command, every delicious, wicked, pleasurable—

As the carriage crunched its way back around the front of the house to roll before her, Jane came to the

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