Lord Ruin Read Online Free Page B

and the duke may share quarters. I’m sure he’ll survive the ignominy.”
    Anne looked around. Cynssyr’s belongings and none other’s. He meant to come to Corth Abbey. He must if he’d sent his valet on ahead. She had a sudden and inexplicable picture of herself standing at the open window pouring the contents of his crystal flagon onto the bushes below. The imagined spite made her smile.
    Devon leaned forward, reaching for her hand. “Feeling better?”
    She nodded. Crowded as she now felt by the duke when he wasn’t even here, she suddenly had little hope she could convince him to do anything he didn’t want to. Well, she would think of something. She had to, and God help her if Emily thought she loved the man. But she didn’t think so. Emily, when at last she loved, would love wholeheartedly and without restraint. She’d know, everyone would know, when Emily fell in love. No, her fear was that Emily might feel obligated to make the marriage.
    The doctor’s arrival interrupted Devon’s tale of the Italian palazzo that had inspired the layout of the Abbey. Anne sighed. She was sick unto death of doctors. He examined Anne’s ankle and concurred it was not broken. Satisfied that her sister’s condition, while painful, was not serious, Mary left to fetch some of Anne’s things. The doctor filled a glass with water and added two drops of another liquid.
    “A small amount for now, Miss Sinclair. I’ll leave a stronger dose for you to take if you wake in the night.” Under his watchful eye, Anne drank down the contents.
    Mary returned with a nightdress discreetly folded over her arm. Lucy was with her. “Go on, all of you men. Out.” Mary put down her bundle and made shooing gestures.
    Before leaving, the doctor prepared a second glass, titrating several more drops into the water. “There. Should you need it in the night.” He pointed to the nightstand.
    “Thank you.”
    Mary sat on the edge of the bed when the sisters were alone. “Was not Bracebridge masterful? Carrying you up the stairs like you were his lover.”
    “Mary.”
    “Well, wasn’t he? Tell me, are those shoulders as strong as they look?”
    “Put that down, Lucy,” Anne said. She successfully damped the spark of hope. Just admitting that Devon Carlisle was more than a man whom she happened to know felt traitorous, a betrayal of her father and duty. Frightening and exhilarating both, and neither reaction pleased her. It wasn’t wise of her, she thought, to tempt herself with hopes of a husband and children of her own. In truth, a part of her had already accepted the possibility and soared with a giddy happiness.
    Lucy sniffed the laudanum-dosed water. “Doesn’t smell like much. I think he ought to have given you more. Are you going to answer Mary’s question?”
    “What question?” The laudanum began to take effect and concentration became difficult. At least her ankle didn’t hurt anymore.
    “About Lord Bracebridge’s shoulders.”
    Mary laughed. Anne glared at her. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She did, though, and despite everything, she joined in the laughter. “Devon’s shoulders are broad. And his chest. . . oh, my.”
    “Do put that down, Lucy,” Mary said. “You’ll spill it. Go on, Anne.”
    “He smells good, too.”
    Lucy put down the glass, not on the nightstand, but on the sidetable by the washbasin. “A fatal case if ever there was.”
    Mary took her hand. “You could marry, Anne. It’s not too late for you.”
    “Yes, it is.” She felt as if she were floating. A magical, wonderful sensation.
    “He’s waited for you since Aldreth and I were married.”
    “How could you know that?” She wasn’t entirely certain she’d spoken out loud but she must have for Mary answered.
    “Aldreth told me so.”
    “Why do you think he invited us here?” Lucy said.
    “So that Lord Ruin could break Emily’s heart.”
    “Nonsense, Anne. Now, we’ll manage Papa,” Mary said over Lucy’s peal