“You’re a bold thing, aren’t you?” His voice was almost soft as he asked the question.
“I am whatever benefits me,” she told him, and it was perhaps the most honest statement she had ever uttered. She had made her way through life on her wits, hard work, and determination, but she had also learned how to bluff. How to be a hundred different versions of herself to gain whatever suited her most.
“What would benefit you is telling me the truth,” he countered. “Beginning with your name.”
She did not hesitate in her response. “Jane Palliser.”
“Jane Palliser is a fiction, and a poor one at that.” He tightened his grip on her wrist once more. “I can make this easier for you. Grant me the information I want, and I will help you as best I can.”
Did he think she was stupid enough to trust him?
His handsome face did nothing to distract her from his intention of sending her to prison.
“A tempting lure, but one I’ll not accept.”
“Do you want me to hurt you, madam?” he asked then, pinning her with his glare in much the same fashion as his massive body.
“Do youwantto hurt me?” she asked. And perhaps there was something wrong with her—some part of her was broken—but she was breathless, awaiting his reply. She wanted the brute in him, it was true. Something in her relished challenging him. Pushing him beyond his limits.
Even now, exerting painful force against her, he remained calm. Ducal, almost. She wanted to see the animal beneath his gentleman’s skin. Wanted to feel his bite, his fury. Wanted to bring him so low, he had no choice but to admit he was no different than she was.
“You do,” she said into the silence, prodding him. Provoking him. “Hurt me, Duke. You like pain, do you not? Does it bring you pleasure?”
“Nothing about this is a pleasure.” He released her, his lip curling, and rose to his full, impressive height. “Tell me what you know. I can force the words from you, or you can give them freely. Naturally, one will be better for you than the other. You seem the sort who wishes to save her own skin. I can give you that. I can make certain you are treated fairly in prison. All you need to do is give me the information I require.”
Treated fairly in prison.
Did he hear himself?
Bridget vowed, then and there, she would escape him. Before he could take her to a dark cell and abandon her to her fate, she would do what she must to get away. She had been in prison once, could still recall the fetid scents, the anguished cries of the incarcerated, the dart of rats in the darkness.
No.
She would not be going back to a prison cell. No matter what it cost her. She would do anything—anything—else first.
“I have no information,” she lied with ease. “I do not even know what information you desire. You seem to think me some sort of great criminal, when in truth, I am a governess who made a dreadful mistake.”
“You are a Fenian who has been caught.” His tone was deceptively smooth and calm.
Bridget knew a moment of remorse. She had pushed him to the brink, and she had been so certain she would spot a weakness in his armor. Something she could poke until it bled. He had given her nothing.
“Hurt me then,” she demanded. “What do you prefer? Fists? An open hand? Perhaps more. Do you like to whip your prisoners? Would you like to lash me? Is that what interests you?”
“I do not mix pain and pleasure,” he gritted. “Or I did not. Volunteer for the task, and we shall see which one of us is first to break.”
Her nostrils flared.Him. Without question.“Yes, Duke. Let us.”
“Tell. Me. Your. Name.” He bit out every word as if each was its own sentence.
“Jane. Palliser,” she said quietly. Calmly.
“Damn you, woman. You only hurt yourself in your stubborn persistence.”
“I thoughtyouwanted to hurt me, Your Grace. What’s the matter? Am I robbing you of the pleasure?” She was pushing him again, and she knew it. Perhaps too far. But she didn’t care. She was tethered to the bed no better than any criminal, and her body liked this raging beast of an Englishman far too much. “Be quick about it. I do not like to wait for my punishment.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but his expression remained impenetrable. “Do not imagine I will give you warning,Miss Palliser. I already know you thieved my waistcoat and that you are guilty as sin. Your punishment will come when you least expect it. And have no doubt, my dear, that you will sing. Like a fucking bird.”
His tone was vicious. So too his gaze as it raked over her.
