“Do you admire any woman?”
“Touché.” Refilling his glass, he lifted it in a mocking salute. “You are quite right. I find most females repulsive creatures who will lie with a smile upon their lips and barter their soul…” He paused, his lips twisting. “Or even their children, for a few baubles.”
Leonida hid a shiver, wondering what had happened in this man’s childhood to have created such a monster. Or perhaps it was best she didn’t know, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. She was not so innocent that she did not realize that some mothers were unbearably cruel to their children.
“There are no doubt selfish and wicked women, just as there are selfish and cruel gentlemen,” she pointed out, giving up all pretense of eating. “That does not mean that most people are not good and decent.”
“You cannot believe such drivel,” he scoffed, shoving aside his own plate.
Leonida froze as she caught sight of the carving knife that had been hidden beside the platter of duck.
Dear God. If she could get her hands on the weapon…
Realizing she was staring, Leonida hastily jerked her gaze back to meet Sir Charles’s snide smile.
“Why should I not?”
“Your own mother traded her lovely body to entrap the most prized catch in all the empire. Do you believe she ever once thought of how her sordid affair would affect her bastard?”
She refused to flinch at the ugly truth in his words. “I am not a bastard.”
“Of course not. Your mother seduced yet another poor idiot to wed her so she could be certain her precious reputation could be salvaged and she could enjoy all the luxuries she never deserved.” He deliberately paused. “And then there is the undeniable fact that when she feared her comfort might be threatened she readily threw her own daughter to the wolves.”
She abruptly rose to her feet and angrily moved toward the window that was so filthy she could barely see out the warped panes. She told herself that she was simply attempting to lure him from the table so she would have an opportunity to steal the knife, but deep inside she could not entirely dismiss his hateful accusation.
Over the years, she had resigned herself to the knowledge t
hat her mother would always put Alexander Pavlovich and his position of power first. But that did not mean that she did not occasionally long to find someone who would consider her worthy of being the most important person in their heart.
“I will not remain here and listen to my mother being insulted,” she said huskily.
As hoped, Sir Charles rose to his feet to stroll to her side, unable to halt his nasty desire to taunt her.
“Ah, did I touch a tender nerve?”
“Did you bring me down here just so you could insult me?”
Leonida instantly regretted her sharp retort as his smile thinned and that horrifying craving smoldered in his eyes.
“I would like to do a great deal more than insult you, my dear.” His hand lifted to grasp her chin in a painful grasp. “You have no notion the effort it has taken me to leave you…untouched. And of course, I have been forced to threaten my men with death to keep them from joining you in the attic. You owe me a great debt of gratitude.”
She ground her teeth, refusing to plead for mercy. Damn her foolish pride.
“Gratitude? You kidnap me, hold me and my poor servants against our will in a cramped attic…”
With lightning speed his fingers released her chin and wrapped around her throat, squeezing so tight that black flecks danced before her eyes.
Instinctively, she lifted her hands to pound at his chest, desperate for air.
“That is it, my sweet.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Fight me. Scream.”
“No,” she managed to choke out.
He gave her a sharp shake, pulling back to relish the pain twisting her features.
“Scream for me.”
On the point of passing out, Leonida barely heard the sound of approaching footsteps. It was not until a voice spoke from directly at her side that she realized they were no longer alone.