Breathless (The House of Rohan 3)

Miranda was trying to tuck her wet hair back inside her bonnet when she paused. She imagined she looked like a rain-swept slattern, but perhaps her odd rescuer could no more see her than she could see him.

“You have?” she said, curious, her own misery banished.

“I beg pardon—I’ve been most remiss. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lucien de Malheur. ” He paused for a moment. “You may have heard of me. ”

Miranda didn’t blink. So this was the notorious Scorpion, the fifth earl of Rochdale. She peered through the darkness with renewed fascination. “You’re right,” she said with her usual frankness. “Even in my cloistered existence I’ve heard the stories. Compared to you, I’m St. Joan. ”

His soft laugh was oddly beguiling. “But we both know that gossip is seldom true. ”

“Seldom?”

“Occasionally an element of truth colors a story. Doubtless you’ve heard that I consort with criminals, that I’m debauched and evil and lead young men to their financial ruin and consort with the notorious Heavenly Host. Don’t look so shocked—I realize people seldom admit the organization even exists anymore, but it’s a very badly kept secret. And you would have heard of my deformities, doubtless exaggerated to the point where I’m better suited to Astley’s Circus and its objects of Wonder and Horror. ”

He’d been described in exactly that way, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “And what is the truth?” She didn’t have to look out the window. She recognized the sound of the pavement beneath the carriage, the pattern of cobblestones on the narrow street. They were already on Half Moon Street. Too soon, she thought, frustrated. This was the most interesting thing that had happened to her in weeks, perhaps months.

For a moment he said nothing, and she had the odd sense that he was weighing something, considering something new and unlikely.

“The truth is, Lady Miranda, that I am an ugly brute with a lame leg and I prefer not to impose my ugliness on unsuspecting strangers. ”

She wanted to see him. For some reason she was quite desperate to set eyes on the notorious, reputedly villainous earl, and she suspected his words had been formed with just that intent.

They had pulled up outside her small, immaculate house. “I’ve been warned,” she said with humor in her voice. “You can show me and I promise not to scream or faint. ”

His soft laugh was her answer. “I’m afraid I don’t know you well enough yet, Lady Miranda. I would never trespass on so short an acquaintance. ”

She picked up the important word. “Yet?” she echoed warily.

“Please,” he protested, once again reading her doubts. “I do only wish to be your friend. ”

“A friend I can’t see?”

“I’ll make a bargain with you, Lady Miranda. You’re fond of music, are you not? If you agree to attend a musical evening at my house in Cadogan Place you’ll have no choice but to look at my unfortunate face. And no, don’t go jumping to conclusions again. The twenty-four people who’ve been invited have all accepted with flattering alacrity. I would be honored if you joined us. ”

She proba

bly shouldn’t, she thought. She knew she shouldn’t, but the risk sounded so tempting, and in faith, what did she have to lose?

“I was planning to go out of town, my lord…. ”

“But surely you can put your departure off for a few days? London has been so devoid of company you must be bored to tears. Indulge yourself, and me. ”

“I shall have to see. ” It was tempting. It had been so long since she’d held a conversation with anyone outside her small circle, and she was strangely drawn to him, another outsider. She’d be a fool to walk into trouble again. Still, there was always the chance that common sense would reappear as needed.

He seemed to take her pause for acquiescence. “I’ll send my carriage round for you, since I expect it will be a while before your curricle is repaired. Wednesday next, at nine. ”

“I shall see,” she said again, being careful. The servants had opened the door to the carriage but the gray, dismal light penetrated no deeper than his shiny black boots.

He took her lack of agreement in stride. “You can come or not as you please. In either case, my men will have your horses back in no time, and I’ll see to the return of your carriage, as well. In the meantime I’m most delighted to have met you, and honored to have been of some minor assistance. ”

To her surprise he took her hand, bringing it to his lips in the dark of the carriage. The touch of his mouth was light, but against her bare skin it was oddly … disturbing. What in the world had she done with her gloves?

She practically scrambled away, almost falling down the lowered carriage steps. She might have heard a soft laugh from the shadows, but realized that was absurd.

“À bientôt,” her mysterious rescuer murmured.

And a moment later he was gone.

Lucien de Malheur, the Earl of Rochdale, sank back against the well-cushioned squabs, tapping his long pale fingers against his bad leg. He was feeling meditative—he always prided himself on his ability to shift with the changing winds, and having spent a mere ten minutes in Miranda Rohan’s company had changed those winds quite significantly.