Your Scandalous Ways by Loretta Chase

Author:Loretta Chase [Chase, Loretta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance, Action Adventure Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9780061231247
Google: Bg2lrrfUE8YC
Amazon: 006123124X
Barnesnoble: 006123124X
Goodreads: 2470208
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2008-05-26T12:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Oh Love! How perfect is thy mystic art,

Strengthening the weak, and trampling on

the strong,

How self-deceitful is the sagest part

Of mortals whom thy lure hath led along—

Lord Byron

Don Juan, Canto the First

I f one could not obtain the upper hand, the next best thing was to pretend one had it.

Francesca left with a mocking wave and a mocking smile that dissolved as soon as she started down the ramp.

She feared he’d follow her.

She feared he wouldn’t.

She made herself hurry away, because she was too strongly tempted to linger, to find out whether he’d pursue her or not. If he did pursue her, she was too strongly tempted to let him catch up with her.

Games, stupid games. You’d think she was a dewy-eyed miss from the schoolroom, expecting her swain to chase after her.

Though she’d been no dewy-eyed miss when her marriage began to fall apart—or her dream of marriage, at any rate—she’d expected John Bonnard to hunt her down and wrench her from the man into whose arms she’d gone for consolation. She’d expected to make John jealous, to hurt him the way he’d hurt her.

But he wasn’t jealous or hurt.

He was disgusted.

You filthy slut. You’ve no more morals than your father. No wonder he was so generous with the marriage settlements. He feared he’d never get you off his hands in time, before the world discovered what you were.

Her eyes burned and her face as well. Inside she went cold, cold as death, then hot with shame, her heart pounding as it had done that day, that terrible day when she saw all her husband’s love curdle into hate.

Light filtered through the windows of the Campanile but she couldn’t see through the haze of rage and misery. She stumbled. She flung her hand against the wall and regained her balance.

“Idiot,” she muttered. “Break your neck, why don’t you? And give Elphick cause to celebrate.”

This was what happened when one gave way to feelings, she told herself. Emotion took over. One became maudlin, fretting over the past. The husband she’d loved so dearly, so deeply, had called her a slut, a whore, and worse.

Very well. She had become a whore. A magnificent one.

No sniveling now. She’d made a fine exit. She would not spoil it by hesitating or hoping. She would not spoil it with old grief and grievances.

She hurried down the ramp as quickly as skirts, petticoats, and stays permitted.

When she left the building and came out into the square, she slowed only enough to preserve her dignity. In the early morning, the small square was as busy as its larger counterpart.

She made her way past the Ducal Palace to the Molo, where her gondola waited.

Uliva, who was awake, woke up Dumini, who was not. Whenever the gondoliers had a long wait, they took turns napping, so that one was always on the alert.

“Take me to Signorina Sabbadin,” she said.

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