Lord Ruin Read Online Free Page A

smelled good, she discovered. A faint, lemony cologne and behind that the particular scent of the man. His shoulders felt nice, too. Solid and comforting. She rested her head against his chest and let her imagination take wing.
    “Mary,” he said, “where shall I put her? I don’t see how she can share with Miss Emily and Mrs. Willcott, now. Not with her ankle. None of them will sleep.” His arms tightened around her. “Dash it to deuces. When I built Corth Abbey I never dreamed of entertaining so many. Nor that so many would care to visit without an invitation.” He turned his head to one side. “My room?”
    “Certainly not!” Mary said.
    He laughed. “I’d sleep in the parlor, Lady Aldreth.”
    “Bracebridge,” said Mary.
    Anne could practically hear Mary’s eyes rolling to the ceiling, and in her heart, Anne thought that Devon’s glib offer of his room sounded wonderfully wicked.
    “Then there’s really only one other possibility. You tell me if it will do.” He stopped at a door near the top of the stairs and waited for Mary to open it and precede them inside. “Well?”
    A moment later, Mary said, “I suppose.”
    “You’re certain?”
    “Yes. Yes, of course I am. Bring her in, Bracebridge.”
    “I feel so silly about all this bother,” Anne said as Dev placed her on the bed. If he looked at her, she wondered, did that mean he didn’t remember what he’d said or that he did and had intended to say it? Lucy hurried in, kneeling at the bedside.
    Anne peeked at Devon. Their eyes met and locked for just an instant. Her heart jumped. Great beauties and heiresses, she repeated. Great beauties and heiresses. “Do stop crying, Lucy. I shall be perfectly all right.”
    Mary gave Lucy a look. “You are no use to anyone when you are upset, Lucy, dear. Take Papa and see to Emily and the duchess if you would, please. She’s probably overwhelmed by now, all alone with Em. Bracebridge.” Dev stopped his pacing at the foot of the bed.
    “I do not like this,” he said.
    “It is just for the night, after all.”
    “Yes, I know, but—”
    Mary put her hands on her hips. “I will not put her in your room when you are here, Bracebridge. No. It’s out of the question. We’ll know soon enough how badly she’s injured. Oh, for heaven’s sake. Do sit.” She pointed to a nearby chair. “Make yourself useful, Bracebridge. Amuse Anne. Take her mind off the discomfort while we wait.”
    “Major Truitt and Mr. Hathaway can room with me. We’ll put her in their room.”
    From the bed, Anne spoke up. “My lord, honestly. I would not like to have so many people discommoded on my account.” She looked away from his black eyes. She had to stop torturing herself this way. He was nothing more than a concerned host. Nothing more and everything but, she thought. She spied a small flagon on the dresser, stoppered crystal rimmed with gold. She concentrated on that instead of her throbbing ankle or Devon’s intentions and her own flood of conflicting reactions.
    Dark green and gold made the chamber’s primary colors. Solid furniture, a sturdy desk on which there sat an escritoire, near that a stack of paper and a mahogany box for pen and ink. A pair of soft leather boots shaped to a man’s calves lay near a wardrobe. Near that, a stack of linen shirts, freshly pressed. Hanging discreetly over a stand in the corner, a pair of charcoal trousers. A gentleman’s personal effects surrounded her. That was a shaving kit on the dresser, made of pigskin with a crest embossed in shining gold. Not the Bracebridge coat of arms, though. A cockatrice below a duke’s coronet. A duke’s coronet.
    “This is Cynssyr’s room!” Anne said, failing to keep the shock from her voice.
    “Now do you understand?” Devon jumped from his chair.
    Mary threw up her hands. “Bracebridge, you said yourself he’s delayed until at least tomorrow, if not beyond. What’s the harm? He’ll never know. And if Anne’s foot is broken, you