Duchess of Sin Read Online Free

in the midst of the violent upheaval of the
     United Irish uprising.
    Sometimes in the bleak hours of night nothing could ease the memory of her beautiful face or her fierce anger and fiery spirit.
     No woman could substitute, no amount of whiskey could drown her out. She stubbornly refused to leave him.
    Come the light of morning it was easy enough to push her memory away, because their paths seldom crossed. He occasionally
     glimpsed her riding in St. Stephen’s Green or on her way to the visitors’ gallery at Parliament with her friends during Union
     debates. And he certainly heard gossip about her. But he never went to Society balls, and she never came to
his
sort of parties. Until tonight.
    Conlan braced his palms against the ledge. It was mere hard, cold stone now, with no vestige of her heat. He could think now
     without her intoxicating presence so close. The party whirled on beyond the glass conservatory doors—louder, wilder—but he
     was removed from all that revelry, as he always was.
    He tried to think coldly and rationally. If Anna was not here at the behest of someone trying to ruin him, why
was
she here? He had heard rumors that she was a most daring young lady, the toast but also the talk of Dublin for her exploits—card
     playing, horse racing in the park, lines of suitors trailing behind her. Perhaps she had slipped into the Olympian Club on
     some kind of dare.
    But how could she get in? His staff was well-trained to scrutinize invitations and to only let in members and avery limited number of their guests. The exclusive nature of the club was one factor in its great success. People always wanted
     to be in where others were out, and they were willing to pay a great deal for that.
    Someone, then, had brought her as their guest. And he intended to find out who that was, to make sure Anna had found out nothing
     at all on her little visit. She wasn’t stupid. She might be able to convince all of Dublin into thinking her a fluff-brained
     Society beauty, concerned with nothing but ballgowns and games of chance, but he knew better.
    He rubbed at the scar just beneath the cropped hair at the back of his neck, feeling the raised ridge that was a constant
     reminder of just how quick-witted and brave Anna Blacknall could be. And how he had once played the fool for her. She was
     the only person who managed to slide past his defenses during the dangerous days of the Uprising, the only one who brought
     him down.
    That would
not
happen again.
    Conlan frowned as he stared at the faint shadow on the window where her head had pressed.
Is it you?
she had whispered. Did she remember, too?
    A moan echoed through the conservatory followed by a rustle of silk. He was not the only one to lose his wits in passion amid
     the plants then.
Good
—that was what the Olympian Club was designed for, to wrap people up in hedonistic delights, make them forget everything else
     in pleasure so they gave up all their power. All their secrets.
    Its allure was not meant to work on
him
, though. Pleasure could hold no snares for him any longer; he learned his lesson when he was a careless young man and nearly
     lost everything for it.
    Silently, he pushed away from the ledge and crept around the banks of towering palms and heavily scented flowers. There were
     a few couples hidden amid the shadows, engrossed in each other, but one pair lay entwined on a wrought-iron chaise just under
     the moonglow of a skylight. The woman’s head was thrown back, her gown slipping from her white shoulders. The distinctive
     auburn hair identified her as Lady Cannondale.
    The man who knelt over her, kissing the curve of her neck as his hand slid beneath her skirt, was Sir Grant Dunmore, Conlan’s
     cousin—and most bitter enemy. Once, years ago, Grant tried to use the Penal Laws that allowed a Protestant to claim a Catholic
     relative’s property. Conlan’s ancient title saved his estate, but it was a hard-fought battle and not one he would