The Impostor Read Online Free Page B

followed her inside, and then one of his liveried footmen gently shut the door of the carriage, which gave a little lurch as the horses trotted forward.
    They were alone in the cool shadows.
    She twisted her gloved hands together, wondering how she might begin. The speech she had rehearsed so carefully and so often over the past few weeks escaped her mind.
    But before she could decide upon a course of action, a thin silver blade flashed as it sliced through the darkness. He moved so quickly that she hardly realized what had happened until it was too late.
    The sharp edge of the sword he must have withdrawn from inside his walking stick rested just beneath her left ear. She swallowed, feeling a thin hairline of blood trickling down her throat.
    “Who are you?” came Sebastian’s cool, dark voice from the other side of the carriage. “Who sent you here?”
    She was a fool. She had walked directly into a trap. Sebastian had known she was coming. She sat very still, drawing in shallow, careful breaths, wondering how it had come to this moment, Sebastian gazing at her with a stranger’s eyes, holding a sword to her throat, as his elegant carriage raced through the darkened streets of London at midnight.
    It was the first time she had been alone with him since the morning of Salamanca, when they had knelt, their hands linked, in the ruined chapel of Nuestra Senhora de la Pena, six years before, as the drums of war sounded through the plains, and the first gray light of dawn streamed over the horizon.
    But of course, Sebastian could not remember.
    With an effort, Tessa banished the memories of his face, tender in the pale shadows. Instead, she forced herself to look into his cold, expressionless eyes.
    She chose her words with care.
    “You were warned,” she said. Her hand tightened on her reticule, feeling the elongated shape of the small rod she had placed within it. “You knew I was coming.”
    “Yes,” he said.
    The blade of her own dagger, which had been concealed within the rod, burst through the beaded reticule. She drew it up in one swift motion, hard and fast enough to force aside Sebastian’s thin sword. The sword went flying into the darkened corner of the carriage, landing with a clatter, and Tessa kicked out, hearing it slide under the opposite seat.
    Sebastian did not bother to search for it. Instead, he immediately launched himself at her, one powerful hand closing unerringly on the wrist that held the hilt of the blade through her reticule.
    She gave a soft cry as he closed his fist, forcing the blade from her hand. As she struggled against him, the transformation fell away. She could feel her flesh and bones shrinking, returning to her own form. His eyes widened as they passed beneath a gas lamp and the yellowish light illuminated her face.
    He slammed her down on the carriage seat, holding her down, forcing her arms behind her torso. She struggled against him, but he was too strong for her. She felt an edge of genuine panic.
    But the looseness of her dress gave her an advantage. As he tried to hold her down, his hands clutching at the gown, she twisted free. The fine silk tore in his hands as she scrambled backwards across the floor of the carriage.
    “Wait! Stop!” she gasped.
    He did not respond. He slammed into her once again with bone-jarring force, and this time, he held her head beneath cold, black water.
    The interior of the carriage disappeared completely. She could see nothing and hear nothing. Water filled her ears, her eyes and nostrils. She could not breathe. Desperate for air, she tried to break free of the hands holding her, but he was too strong, forcing her head deeper beneath the water.
    Her mind reeled. She was going to die. She was going to die at the hands of the man she loved, and he would never know she had come to save him one last time.
    She must save him .
    In the next second her eyes flew open again against the dark water. She could not die. She refused to die, not when she had