Lord of Fire (15 page)

He was testing her, of course, making her walk the very knife-edge of decision. It was the one sure way to discover what kind of woman she really was at her very core, under duress. If she chose selfishly, freeing herself at the expense of little Harry’s need for his mama, if she proved a fraud, then her mysterious hold over him would be instantly broken with no great loss. His mind and heart would be released at once from her spell, and he would let both women leave without further argument.

Ah, but if she chose unselfishly, in spite of all the dire possible consequences, at the cost of her reputation and the perilous risk of her virtue, then he would have her here by his side to revere her and to learn the secret of her innocence. Either way, he won. It was, in fact, the perfect plan, and he was deuced pleased with himself for thinking of it.

Both women were still staring at him, dumbfounded.

“Oh, you are a devil,” Caro whispered at last in awe. “No. You are
the
devil.”

He glanced indifferently at her, then returned his hungry stare to the girl. “So, who shall it be, Alice, Caro or you?”

Her eyes were huge and deep, dark blue as she gazed up at him, at a loss. Her severe chignon accented her aristocratic bone structure—her smooth forehead and high cheekbones, that feisty chin, and her long, graceful neck. Lucien gave her a look to suggest that, if she stayed, his intentions toward her were purely sexual.
That ought to scare the truth out of her,
he thought, fear and need and terrifying hope making him ruthless.

“Surely, my lord, you are jesting,”
Alice forced out.

“He is in earnest,” Caro breathed, shaking her head. “I know that gleam in his eyes. He has some perverse devil flying around in his head and won’t be satisfied until he has gotten what he’s after.”

“Well?” he asked.

“This is absurd!”
Alice shot to her feet in haughty indignation, but her eyes were indigo with fright; her ivory skin had paled. “Come, Caro. We are getting out of here.”

“Sit down, Miss Montague,” Lucien clipped out sternly. “You will not run away from this choice. You should be grateful I am willing to let one of you leave, for I am tempted to keep you both—but then, who would comfort poor little Harry?”

“Lucien, stop this.” Caro rose abruptly and scanned his face, trying to read him. “My child is sick. I must go to him.”

“Now you care?” He shook his head at her in contempt. “Speak to
Alice. It is in her power to release you.”

“So, it is
her
you’re after. Lucien, she is a virgin.”

“And so she will remain, if she chooses.”

The lady in question let out a little gasp of alarm. “This conversation is most unseemly! My lord, you know full well you cannot keep either of us here against our will. It is practically kidnapping! We could have you arrested!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too alarmed, my dear.” Caro folded her arms over her chest and looked askance at her. “Lord Lucien is merely testing you. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. I daresay he wants to see if he can debauch you. This is what the fiend enjoys—poking, prodding people, trying to find out their weaknesses. He won’t go out of his way to harm you, but if you stumble, you are lost.”

“Now, now, my lady, aren’t you being a bit harsh?” he chided.

“I know why you are doing this,”
Alice said in a shaky tone, taking a defiant step toward him. “To punish me for trespassing in the Grotto—but I’m not going to tell anyone about your filthy cult! Whom would I tell? I’d be ashamed even to mention it!”

“Why, I would never punish you for anything,
Alice,” he replied in a reasonable tone. “Who am I to punish you? Your parent? Your husband?”

She blanched at the word. “You can’t make me stay here! Harry needs—”

“His mother.” He cut her off.

“He needs me, too!” She struggled visibly for calm. “My lord, if you are so fixed on a friendship, then, very well, you may call on me in
London in the spring. . . .” Her voice trailed off at his dark, low laughter.

“That is hardly what I had in mind,
ma chérie
.”

“But I will be ruined!” she wailed.

“Now, now, my dear, there is no need to be melodramatic. Nobody is going to ruin you. I can boast a certain expertise in keeping secrets,” he said modestly. “No one will ever know you’re here. I give you my word.”

“Your word—Draco? Don’t make me laugh!” She pointed toward the door. “Those people in the hallway saw me. What if they go back to
London and tell the whole world I’m here?”

“For one thing, they are not going back to
London. They’re going their separate ways, back to their country houses—you know the ton is largely dispersed for the autumn. Secondly, even if they did recognize you, they don’t want their names mentioned any more than you do. We believe in secrecy here at

“Don’t do this, Lucien. I beg of you. You know it is impossible!”

“Why? Do you think I give a damn for Society’s strictures?” he asked sharply, suddenly losing patience as her obvious rejection cut through his facade. “Life is too bloody short to play by their rules. I take what I want, and I want you here. Now choose, damn it.”

She stood staring at him in shock. A helpless, bewildered look passed over her classical features.

He held her stare fiercely, willing her to remember how she had melted in his arms, how she had opened to his kiss. How she had tapped into her own fiery passion when she had begun kissing him back in sweet, aching need.

She turned away, pale and shaken, and marched toward the door. “I am going home to Harry, and you can’t stop me. Lady Glenwood, do please come along.”

“My men have their orders,” Lucien called after her, his body tensed with excitement. “They won’t let you pass without my permission.”

Caro remained where she stood, studying him. Lucien merely flicked her a glance then followed his quarry out into the hallway. In truth, he could scarcely believe she had not yet said no. She had not refused outright nor immediately passed the task on to Caro, as he had half expected. Instead,
Alice was fighting to avoid making any decision at all, as though, deep down, she knew that her own nature would compel her to do the honorable thing. In guarded fascination, he watched her slim figure as she strode down the flagged, shadowy corridor ahead of him toward the entrance hall. He restrained his pace to a casual saunter, trailing after her.