“Take off that damned cloak and let me see what he’s done.”
Angelica shouldn’t have been surprised he knew, but she was. The cloak fell away and the earl leaned closer so that he could see her neck.
“Anywhere else?” he asked, shifting back.
She shook her head.
“Anywhere else?” he asked again, looking both distinctly uncomfortable and darkly furious at the same time.
“No.” Then she realized what he was asking. “I am…intact.” Her cheeks heated but she ignored it.
“By Fate, I’ll kill him if your brother doesn’t first,” Corvindale said, stalking over to the massive desk. A vase holding a collection of roses and lilies sat there, and he paused, staring at it as if it were some foul object. “But I’ll make it quick instead of painful.”
“Now that you have introduced the topic…” Angelica said, gathering her courage. Corvindale was intimidating in his demeanor, and there was no reason he wouldn’t turn his anger on her if she annoyed him, but she would try.
After all, he hadn’t yet beheaded Maia.
“Is it true that Chas has gone off with avampirwoman?”
Corvindale cursed, and didn’t even attempt to hide the fact that he said something terribly improper. “What else did he tell you?”
“He told me Cezar Mol…davi, I believe it is, wants to kill Chas and that’s why Maia and I are in danger. He wants to use us as ransom. Cezar is one of those horrid monsters, too.”
The earl had picked up the slender vase with the flowers in it and now he stalked over to the other end of the study. With a quiet, forceful clunk, he set the vase on a table near the window. “What he told you is true, surprisingly enough. Dewhurst isn’t known for his candor. What else did he tell you?”
“Little else. Is my brother truly in danger?” Despite the fact that she’d foreseen Chas’s death many years in the future, after all of the upheaval in the last days, Angelica needed reassurance. It was possible things could change, wasn’t it?
“Your brother is more than capable of taking care of himself,” Corvindale replied in the most gentle voice she’d heard him use. Which was to say, it was not loud, sharp, or harsh…but it wasn’t particularly kind by normal standards. “Did Dewhurst not tell you about him?”
“What do you mean?”
The earl shook his head. “It’s best I keep his confidence. But when next we see him—and I am confident we will—I’ll insist he tell you and Miss Woodmore the truth.”
“Dewhurst said he might have eloped with Cezar’s sister. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—marryone of those monsters, would he?”
Corvindale’s face was a study in stonework. “I cannot say what your brother’s intention would be, but I sincerely doubt marriage is a possibility. The thought is absurd.” He’d walked back toward the desk, then turned and looked at her once again. “Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”
She took that as an invitation to tell him the details of what happened at Rubey’s, and his face grew darker. But he said nothing else, other than, “Anything else?”
As if his demeanor invited confidences. Angelica closed her eyes, suddenly weary and heartsick again. “No. May I be excused now, my lord? I would like nothing better than to lie down.”
His expression eased slightly, making him look almost handsome. “Yes, go. Tell Mrs. Hunburgh you are to have a bath sent to your chamber.”
Angelica left the study and closed the door behind her. She didn’t pause to ring for the housekeeper, nor did she go to her chamber. Instead she found her way to Maia’s room and opened the ajar door to find her sister pacing the floor.
“At last,” she said, rushing to embrace Angelica again. “My darling, I’ve been so worried for you.”
Taking care to keep her marked neck covered by her hair, Angelica hugged her sister back and then allowed the tears to explode.
The peremptory knocking joltedDimitri from an uneasy sleep, strewn with images and memories he’d much prefer to forget.
He opened his eyes, wondering where in hell his valet was, and rolled over onto his swollen shoulder, twisting in the already amassed sheets. He was as used to the incessant burning as one could become to white-hot pain, but the added pressure sent a sharp, jagged jolt down his hips and legs and he muttered a curse.
Now he was fully awake. And Lucifer’s blade, a line of bright light peeked through the shutters of the far window. It was bloodymidday.Who in the name of blind Fate was banging on his door and where in the burning hell was Greevely to stop them?
“Corvindale!” The voice was familiar and bossy and feminine and had Dimitri bolting up in bed. “I must speak with you!”
Miss Woodmore. He was so furious he couldn’t grasp an appropriate curse and instead bellowed, “Go away.”
