Realizing that her companions were regarding her with obvious concern, Brianna gave a sharp tilt of her chin, allowing an icy resolution to replace the aching pain.
“Yes, you are right, Letty,” she said, perfectly compose
d. “What does it matter if Edmond chooses to devote his afternoons to an aging harlot?”
The older woman frowned. “Brianna…”
“Do you know, I believe that I shall wear the ivory satin,” she interrupted Letty’s protest. “And perhaps my new lace shawl.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE IVORY SATIN WAS JUST as flattering as Lady Aberlane had foreseen.
Although simple in design, it was cleverly cut across the bodice to best flatter her slender curves, and was trimmed with seed pearls sewn into the puff sleeves and blond lace at the hem. When matched with her kid gloves and ivory satin slippers, Brianna had to admit that the soft color contrasted nicely with the vibrant curls that were piled loosely atop her head.
At a glance, she appeared to be precisely what she was supposed to be. A young, sophisticated maiden who was on the precipice of becoming the Duchess of Huntley.
There wasn’t the least hint of the brittle tension that hummed just below the surface.
Well, not unless one counted the unnatural pallor of her skin and the hectic glitter in her eyes.
Peering into the mirror of her dressing table, Brianna was contemplating the wisdom of adding a bit of blush to her pale cheeks when the unmistakable sound of a latch clicking had a cold anger rushing through her.
She had no need to turn her head to know that it was Edmond slipping through the secret tunnel. Not only did her body tighten with the familiar awareness, but the warm, sandalwood scent of his soap teased at her senses, causing her stomach to flutter in anticipation despite her best intention to remain indifferent.
At least he possessed the decency to bathe after leaving his whore’s bed, she told herself. Deliberately reminding herself of where he’d spent the past hours.
Crossing the room, Edmond halted directly behind her, his hands boldly lifting to caress her bare shoulders as his admiring gaze met hers in the mirror.
“Good evening, ma souris. You look…” His gaze lowered to the swell of her breasts revealed by the low cut of her bodice. “Delectable.”
With a jerky motion, Brianna rose to her feet, knocking aside his lingering hands as she turned to face him.
“Edmond, can you not at least possess the decency to knock before entering my chambers?” she demanded. “’Tis bad enough you use a secret tunnel to sneak in here…oh…”
Her words were lost in a startled gasp as Edmond reached out to grasp her upper arms and jerk her roughly against his chest.
“But these are not your chambers, are they, Brianna?” he growled. “They belong to the Huntley family, just as everything in this town house belongs to us. Everything from the attics to the cellars.”
“So now I am just a piece of Huntley property?”
“Not Huntley property.” His hands loosened their grip on her arms to run a possessive path down her back to the curve of her hips. “My property. You belong to me, ma souris. Body and soul.”
“Not bloody likely,” Brianna rasped, ignoring the tiny flare of panic at the absolute certainty in his voice.
“You seem to forget, my dear,” he mocked, “that was the cost for allowing you to remain beneath this roof and away from the clutches of Thomas Wade.”
Her hands lifted to press against his chest, a futile effort as his fingers tightened on her hips to yank her even closer. His gesture of pure ownership, however, did at least remind her of the danger of giving even an inch to this man.
“Ah, of course,” she drawled. “Giving you my virginity was the payment for not being raped by my stepfather. How stupid of me to forget.” She narrowed her gaze. “That doesn’t mean, however, I sold you my soul. That, you will never, ever have.”
“Mon dieu. What is this?”
“What?”
“You are deliberately attempting to rile my temper, why?”
“I merely pointed out that it is common decency to allow me some privacy.”