Loretta Chase - Knaves' Wager by Loretta Chase

Author:Loretta Chase
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-12-08T18:33:42+00:00

The path, shaded by enormous rhododendrons, opened into a large clearing, in the centre of which the statue stood. The shrubbery all around was tall and dense. A narrow opening through the leaves indicated yet another path, leading heaven knew where. The foliage was too thick to permit more than a glimpse of the way beyond. The place was quiet, except for the occasional ruffling of leaves in the light breeze.

"I was mistaken," said Lord Brandon as they approached the sculpture. "This, as I recall, is the work of Lord Redley's artistic great-grandfather. He called it The Abduction of Helen.' The pose obviously owes something to Bernini's "Pluto and Persephone" — though I never considered the two ladies' cases quite the same. I prefer to believe Helen went with Paris of her own free will."

He had already treated Lilith to several amusing theories regarding the expected Bernini. He was surprisingly well-read. Lilith wondered wryly when he'd found time for books. She had known he could be charming, but she'd expected a more shallow, social charm. She had not expected to find his conversation quite so… stimulating.

She smiled up at his sun-dappled face. "You think Helen willingly abandoned the throne of Sparta? Were Greek women so impractical, then?"

"I have decided she was very young, in an alien land, the husband chosen for her an old, insensitive lout. Paris appeared, and the two young beauties were instantly smitten. They tried to be discreet, but their affair was betrayed to Menelaus. Helen fled with her lover to escape a horrible death."

Lilith laughed. "Leave it to you to devise extenuating circumstances."

"I can't help it. I am a hopeless romantic." There was a pause — two heartbeats, maybe more.

Then, in lower tones, he went on. "I can guess, at least, what the Trojan must have felt when he met Sparta's queen. In my vision she is tall, proud, and spirited, with eyes like Poseidon's storms and hair tinged with Hephaistos' fire."

Lilith's smile faded, along with her quiet pleasure in his company.

He was no longer looking at the statue, she knew, though she dared not meet his gaze. She must not listen, she told herself. He was too perceptive, too clever, and honeyed speeches came too easily to him. With forced calm, she disengaged her arm from his and walked to the entwined marble figures.

"Have you seen the Bernini?" she asked, keeping her voice light. "Is this very like, do you think?"

"I'm afraid at the moment I can't think." He moved up behind her. "I should not have brought you here. I should never be alone with you. Every good resolution I've made is smashed to pieces."

His breath was warm on her neck.

"My lord — "

"Lilith." It was a whisper, and his lips touched her neck, light as a whisper, yet the touch seared her.

He is the Devil, she told herself. It is all practised wickedness. But his lips had touched her neck again, and the hand gently clasping her arm burned too. A dangerous yearning incandesced within her.

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