“Hold my horse.” Lucien thrust the reins at a startled
man and elbowed his way through the cheering crowd that
surrounded the coach.
“’ere, stop pushing. I got money on this ‘ere fi ght.” A
man glared at Lucien but hastily turned away when he saw
his scarred visage.
Th
e advantage given by his height allowed Lucien to see
the two urchins more clearly than most. It should have been
an uneven match with one much bigger than the other, but
the smaller child appeared determined. Fists swung wildly.
Feet kicked out. Elbows dug. Fingers gouged. Th
e crowd
cheered each landed blow, shouting encouragement.
“Get him, Jamie, boy! I have my money on you!” a
woman shrieked.
“What’s the fi ght about?” Lucien demanded of the man
nearest him.
“Th
ey be fi ghting over taking the carriage to King’s
Head. Nob said he’d give the boy a gold coin.”
“One man?” Lucien said, his tone sharp. Th
at didn’t
make sense unless someone had stolen the carriage.
“Aye. Big, he was.”
A sharp screech from the larger urchin claimed the
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
man’s attention. Lucien wanted to shake him and demand
answers. He grabbed the man by the shoulder. “What did
he look like?”
“Big, I said. A nob dressed in fancy clothes.”
Lucien turned away in frustration to question a woman
holding a small girl by the hand. Th
e child took one look at
his face and burst into noisy tears. Hell’s teeth! Lucien aimed
for a reassuring smile, but the girl wailed even louder and
buried her face in her mother’s woolen skirts.
“Did you see the man who drove the carriage?” Lucien
asked. He attempted to keep his building frustration from his
voice, despite wanting to shout at stupid people who judged
by appearances. Dammit, he was more than a scar. He was
a man. Lucien battled for calm, inhaling deeply. “Please,
ma’am. Did you see the man?”
Th
e woman gave an abrupt shake of her head and stepped
away, her face frozen in an expression of distaste.
In that moment, Lucien realized that people at Castle St.
Clare didn’t react to his scar any longer. Th
ey treated him as
the heir despite his surly moods and ruined face. He tucked
the thought away for later and resumed his questioning.
Instinct told him something was very wrong. He must fi nd
Rosalind.
“He was big,” a bulky man said.
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SHELLEY MUNRO
“Flashed ‘is blunt around,” another commented.
“What color was his hair?” Lucien asked, striving for
patience.
“Black.”
Hawk? Fear shot through Lucien.
“Nah! ‘e wore a wig.”
Lucien dragged in a slow breath.
Rosalind.
None of this was helping. “Which way is the King’s Head?”
“It’s the other side of the village. On the road to Rye,” the
man said. “Follow main road and take the second fork.”
Before he could thank the man, he turned away. Lucien
pushed his way back through the mass of bodies to collect
his horse, using elbows, his greater bulk, and his scar when
necessary. Rosalind wouldn’t approve. Th
e notion brought a
brief smile. “Th
anks,” he said, fl ipping a coin at the man.
Th
e crowds thinned once Lucien moved away from the
carriage, but the cheers and screeches of encouragement con-
tinued unabated. He swung up on Oberon and pressed his
mount into a trot.
“Hastings!”
Lucien’s head snapped about at the sound of his name.
Justin ambled toward him, threading through the crowd,
a wide grin on his face.“What are you doing in Whittlebury?”
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
Lucien was positive Lady Augusta had said an outing near
Castle St. Clare. Lucien glanced past Justin, but none of the
faces were familiar. Was the rest of the party in Whittlebury
too? Th
e trepidation inside eased a notch. “I came to check
on supplies for the roof repairs. I thought you went on the
excursion with Lady Helena and her mother,” Lucien said.
“Not me,” Justin replied. “Lady Jessica is far too man-
aging. Th
ey say to look at the mother. If that’s what Lady
Helena’s going to end up like, I’m staying far away.” His
eyes narrowed as he spotted something behind Lucien. “I
say, is that the St. Clare carriage? What is it doing here?
Was it stolen?”
Lucien dismounted again. “Th
at’s what I intend to fi nd
out. I’m on my way to the King’s Head. Th
e man who left the
carriage there paid an urchin to deliver it to the King’s Head.
Care to join me?”
“Why not? I have plenty of time before my evening
engagement. I’m fair parched. Could do with an ale. Th
e
King’s Head’s ale will no doubt taste much like the brew at
the Swan.”
Justin fell into step with him. “Still riding that brute of
a horse,” he said, his eyes sliding over Oberon with careful
appraisal. “Are you sure you won’t sell him to me?”
Every time Justin saw him, he asked if Oberon was for
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SHELLEY MUNRO
sale. Th
e discussion was an old, comfortable one, and Lucien
felt the beginnings of a smile surface. “If my horse is a brute,
why do you want him?”
“He has good lines,” Justin said. “Should produce a good
crop of foals.”
Lucien nodded, knowing it was nothing less than the truth.
Justin slowed. “You could at least let me ride him and put
him through his paces. Next time I’m at Castle St. Clare.” He
turned into a narrow lane. “Th
is is a shortcut. Comes out
behind the King’s Head.” Justin stalked ahead, disappearing
down the opening without looking back.
A frown replaced Lucien’s good humor. Th
e lane seemed
dark. No telling who lurked down there. Th
ey weren’t in that
much of a hurry. Lucien hesitated, then shrugged and fol-
lowed, leading Oberon behind. Th
ere were two of them and
no doubt, Justin was armed.
Holding his nose, he stepped over the swollen remains of
a dead cat, his black boots sinking into soft mud. Th
e stench
made his eyes water. Oberon balked, planting his hooves
fi rmly and refusing to move past the smelly corpse.
Lucien stepped up to his mount’s side and stroked his
quivering neck. “No time for nerves, boy. I need to fi nd
Rosalind. She was in that carriage today. Something is wrong.
I feel it in my gut.”
370
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
His soothing voice
calmed the horse. Lucien grasped the
reins fi rmly and stepped over the cat again. Oberon danced,
rolling his eyes, but Lucien continued to speak in a low voice,
and his mount fi nally consented to step over the ripe carcass.
Lucien turned his attention back to the dimly lit lane
ahead. Th
e devil take it. It was so dark Justin was no longer
in sight. He slowed, his gaze sweeping the area in front.
Oberon seemed to sense his apprehension. He snorted and
pranced in nervous dancing steps that made the reins jerk in
Lucien’s hands.
“Steady, boy.” Lucien stepped forward, his ears strain-
ing for the slightest sound. Instinct screamed to take caution
because danger lurked ahead.
“Justin?” His voice was soft, not much louder than a
whisper. Surely, Justin wouldn’t walk off and leave him, not
if they intended to drink together.
Th
e darkness of the alley lifted as they neared the end.
Lucien squinted, scanning for danger. Nothing appeared un-
toward. Behind him, Oberon seemed calmer and the tension
seeped from Lucien’s shoulders. His mount had saved him
more than once. When the bandits had attacked their party
in France, it had been Oberon’s warning that had alerted him
and saved him from certain death. But, not soon enough to
save Francesca too. Sorrow pierced his heart when he thought
371
SHELLEY MUNRO
of his fi rst wife. She hadn’t deserved to die so young, and for
that Hawk would pay.
Lucien increased his pace, his thoughts switching to
Rosalind. He refused to lose her too, not when he’d just
found her.
He hurried down the remaining few feet of the alley.
Several kegs were stacked at the door of the building oppo-
site. No doubt Justin was already inside, ordering a tankard
for each of them. Lucien stepped from the alley. A blur of
movement to his right made his head jerk in that direction.
A dark fi gure swung at him with a club. His hand rose
to block the blow. Too slow. Pain exploded in his head and he
slumped to the ground.
Rosalind paced the boundaries of her prison. Luxurious as
far as prisons went with the elegant four-poster bed and the
highly polished walnut dresser, but she was confi ned against
her will.
She tried the door. It was still locked. She marched to
the single window that overlooked the street below. It was a
quiet back street used mainly by those who lived in the area.
A stout, locked bolt barred her exit by way of the window.
372
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
She considered breaking the glass and shouting for help but
discarded the idea. Justin had warned her against the action.
He’d said no one would help her. He had told them she was
sick. Queer in the head. Th
ey’d likely run if she shouted at
them. And, he’d had the audacity to grin when he said it.
None of them would believe she was being held against her
will. Rosalind grimaced down at her skirt, ripped during a
tussle for freedom. Th
e hem bore a coating of dried mud.
Her hair had toppled down during her attempt to escape and
without a comb or mirror, it was impossible to restore to its
former neatness. Oh, yes. She looked like a mad woman.
Th
e scrape of a key in the lock alerted her to a new ar-
rival. Rosalind turned to the door, her heart pounding. Every
muscle tensed as she prepared to seize any chance that came
her way.
Th
e door opened. Justin stepped inside. Confi dence and
good cheer radiated from him. His grin stretched from one
side of his face to the other, giving rise to a sinking feeling in
her stomach.
Bad news, she thought. For her.
Justin turned the key and slipped it inside his jacket. He
faced her, his gaze wandering the length of her body before
returning in a leisurely manner to her face. “Comfortable, my
dear? Anything I can get you?”
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SHELLEY MUNRO
Rosalind suppressed a shudder. Th
e man looked at her as
though she were a luscious piece of fruit tart. It made her very
uncomfortable. “I would like to return to the castle.”
“Ah, but you don’t like living there. I’ve heard you tell
that red-haired maid of yours.”
“It was you,” Rosalind blurted. “You spied on me.”
Justin shrugged, clearly experiencing not a shred of guilt.
“Watched over you, my dear. Th
ere’s a diff erence.”
Rosalind’s gaze narrowed at his smug tone. “Did you
murder Mary?” She closed the distance between them with
two steps, her hands fi sted at her sides. If he said yes, she’d
scratch his eyes out. Th
e idea of her friend suff ering at the
hands of this mad man infuriated her. “What did you do
to Mary??”
His brows rose and he moved back. “Such an outpouring
of emotion is unbecoming, my dear. Do control yourself.”
“I am not ‘your dear’. Did you murder Mary?” Rosa-
yanked hard. Anger pounded through her veins and for the
fi rst time in her life, she was tempted to injure rather than
heal. “I knew she hadn’t run off with a lover. She wouldn’t
leave without telling me. Did you kill her? Did you?”
Justin wrenched away, took several steps back, and
paused to smooth his crumpled silk waistcoat. “It was her
374
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
own fault. She shouldn’t have tried to escape.”
“Why?” Fury vibrated through her body.
Justin held out his right hand to examine his fi ngernails.
“I believe she objected to joining a harem . . .”
“You intended to sell her? To that sultan friend of yours
in Constantinople?” Shock tore at her insides before rage
whipped her upright. Mary in a harem. No wonder she’d tried
to escape. She glanced at him and froze, suddenly uneasy with
his intense scrutiny. “What do you intend doing with me?”
she asked in a faint voice. Surely, he didn’t intend to marry her
as he’d indicated earlier? She was married to Lucien.
“You in Abdul Musa’s harem?” He laughed with genuine
amusement. “No, my dear. I don’t intend to present you to
my old friend. I have other plans for you.” His gaze lingered
on her lips, then traveled down across her breasts in a leisurely
manner. Th
e expression on his face did little to halt her esca-
lating panic.
“I would like to know.” A ripple of revulsion swept down
her body, and she fought the urge to hide behind the intricate
Chinese screen in the corner of the room. Her chin shot up.
“Tell me. Please.”
He smiled. “I told you. We’re going to marry as soon as
I’m sure you’re not bearing Hastings’ whelp. And in time,
you’ll present me with an he
ir. Sooner rather than later, I
375
SHELLEY MUNRO
hope.” His eyes glowed with a fanatical light. “Bedding you
will be no hardship. Finally, I’ll get to touch your luscious
breasts instead of merely looking. I’ll taste you. Oh, Rosa-
lind, my dear. We’ll be good together.”
He’d watched her, seen her unclothed. She felt dirty and
used, quite unlike the way Lucien made her feel. “I’m married
to Lucien. I love him.” Th
e words burst from her without
thought, yet the minute they were uttered she knew them
as truth. She loved her husband. Now, if only she had the
chance to tell him.
Justin stiff ened as though she’d struck him. Rage twisted
his features into an ugly mask, and she immediately regretted
her outburst. She edged away unobtrusively. “None of this
would have been necessary if you’d heeded the warnings I
gave you of specters. You should have listened to your maid
and left Castle St. Clare when you had the chance. She knew
things weren’t right, that ghosts haunted your room. She saw
me, you know, but instead of telling you, she confronted me.
Ah, yes. I knew you’d be the key to my revenge.”
Oh, Mary, Rosalind thought, aching for her friend. “You?
You crept into my room from the passage behind the wall.”
“You were so brave,” he whispered, moving nearer to
her. A fl ush suff used his face. His eyes glittered in a frighten-
ing manner. “No panic or hysterics when your hair brush
376
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
disappeared and reappeared. Strange noises didn’t spook you,
and even when I crept into your room and shoved you from
your bed, you didn’t dose yourself with laudanum or descend
into madness. You made me proud — a woman worthy of
the St. Clare family, a woman worthy of being my mate. It
didn’t take me long to change my mind about you. I decided
I would keep you. You would be my wife. Th
at other stupid
bitch kept trying to kill you. She’s lucky my plans escalated,
or I would have taken care of her myself.”
Rosalind stared, shocked into silence by his revelations.
She squeezed back against the wall when he advanced on her,
his face red, his eyes glittering with passion and a hint of
madness. Th
e man belonged in Bedlam.
“I’m afraid you sealed your fate when you entered Hast-
ings’s bed. Once I’m sure I won’t be saddled with his child,
you will marry me. I’m the oldest. You were meant to marry
me, not my brother.”