CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Roarke knew he was in trouble the moment his cap was gone.
“What areyoudoing here?”
He managed to keep from cringing at the irate tone in Mara’s voice until he realizedhewas the one who should be asking the questions. “I might ask you the same thing,” he pointed out. “Where are you headed exactly?”
She thoroughly ignored his attempt at sarcasm. “How dare you! You have no right to—”
Her tirade was cut short as Roarke took hold of her arm and steered her out of the carriage amid the questioning glances of the other occupants, who were all wide awake by this point. “I would appreciate it if you could keep the scene making to a bare minimum,” he nearly growled.
He was afraid Mara might ignore his request, as she huffed rather petulantly, but in the end, she allowed him to drag her along.
Walking through the door of an establishment called The Red Lion, Roarke promptly passed the handful of curious bystanders and went right up to the man behind the counter. “We will need a room for the night.”
“Aye, is that so?” The man turned a shrewd eye upon Mara. “Sorry, gent, but I don’t run that sort of establishment here. You might have better luck at the Haunch of Venison down the street.”
Roarke heard Mara gasp in outrage, as she picked up on the fact the man had referred to her as a woman of ill repute.
“I don’t think you understand,” Roarke nearly ground his teeth. “I’m Lord Eversleigh, and I will pay handsomely for your discretion.” He knew that he certainly didn’t come across as a peer of the realm in his ragged, street clothes, but the gold sovereigns he deposited on the wood before them certainly turned the man’s head well enough.
With a toothy grin, the man quickly pocketed the coins. “My sincerest apologies, mylord. I believe something just became available.”
Roarke doubted that the man yet believed his identity claim, but if it would get him a private room for the night to rest his aching muscles and a chance to speak to Mara without interruption, it would be worth the blunt. Thankfully, she kept silent during their trek up the stairs, where the innkeeper himself gave Roarke the key to number five and offered a smug farewell, but he could tell by Mara’s mutinous expression that it wouldn’t last long.
As suspected, the moment the door shut behind them, she snagged her arm out of his grasp and crossed her arms to glare at him. “I hope you know that I don’t intend to remain here, so you’re just wasting your time.”
Roarke lifted a brow as he locked the door and smoothly put her freedom in his waistcoat pocket. After giving it a firm pat, he said, “Indeed? Well, my dear, I’m afraid you will have to climb out the window then, for I’m not handing over the key.”
“You are despicable!” she hissed. She walked over to the window, apparently to call his bluff. He merely waited, for while they were only on the second floor, it was a rather steep roof, and since the threatening rain had finally caught up with them, he knew without a doubt that he had the upper hand.
After a flash of lightning, as if to highlight his point, Mara finally turned back to him, her back stiff and her hands clenched at her sides. “I had no idea you would be the type of man to resort to kidnapping.”
“Is that what I’ve done?” He scratched his jaw. “Because I clearly recall you getting on that mail coach without any coercion whatsoever on my part.”
“Be that as it may,” She lifted her chin. “You areholding me against my will now.”
“If I truly thought you didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t hesitate to move aside.” Roarke slowly moved toward her. “But that’s not true, is it?”
“Of course it is,” Mara returned, although he was quite certain her statement fell a bit flat in how convincing it was supposed to sound.
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Roarke nearly purred. As he stood right in front of her, he reached out and touched a strand of her golden hair. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what it is that makes me so drawn to you. From the moment I met you, I knew you would be my downfall.”
Her eyes widened momentarily before she said, “You seem to have forgotten about Francois.”
He knew it was merely a barb meant to gainsay him.
It didn’t work.
“Oh, yes. Dear Francois.” Roarke smiled as he dropped his hand. “For such a devoted lover, I have to wonder why it is I’ve seen him cavorting about the backstage of so many popular London theaters.”
Mara crossed her arms. He could see her visibly swallow. “I never said he was faithful.”
“Indeed. But why bother with such a sorrowful endeavor when you have so many others to mourn over? Bentley, the fire…”It was time to strike. “And let us not forget, dear Lily.”
All the color promptly bleached from Mara’s face. “How do you know about…her?” she asked in a horrified whisper.
Roarke leaned down to whisper in her ear. “How do you think the messenger from the York Retreat knew to find you at Weston House?”
