Captive Read Online Free PDF Page B

turned and ran. But not to her room, where he had ordered her to stay. She headed instead out the front door—where she wasforbidden to go—slamming the heavy portal defiantly behind her.
    Denbigh rearranged the immaculate waterfall his valet had created with his neck cloth, shoved a hand through dark curls cut in a Brutus, and bowed gracefully to the half-naked woman draped on the sofa. “You will have to excuse me, Lady Frockman,” he said through tight jaws. “Duty calls.”
    “Stay, Lion,” Lady Frockman cajoled. “The brat is gone, and we can be alone.”
    Denbigh’s gray eyes turned cold. “Take care, Claudia. You are speaking of a young lady.”
    “But, Lion, you’ve called her worse yourself!” Lady Frockman protested.
    Of course he had. The incorrigible minx was driving him mad. But he could not allow his young ward to be disparaged by a lady who was, despite her title, no lady. “You will be gone when I return, Claudia. Samuels will arrange to have a carriage take you back to London.” Without another word he pivoted on his booted heel and headed out the door of the salon.
    “If you send me away, Lion, I’m not coming back,” Lady Frockman threatened.
    Denbigh did not even pause. He should never have brought his mistress to his home in the first place. It was an outrageous thing to do. But therehad been no one to say him nay for a very long time. His grandfather, the Duke of Trent, had been ill for years, keeping him and his duchess housebound on their estate in Kent. Responsibility for the family had fallen on Denbigh’s shoulders when he was still a boy himself, but along with it had come a great deal of freedom to do as he pleased.
    That was no excuse for subjecting his sister and his ward to the presence of his mistress. He was suddenly glad that Lady Frockman was leaving. It was plain he would be needing all his time and attention to deal with his new ward. He made a mental note to have his steward send Lady Frockman a diamond bracelet, along with a letter ending their relationship. But his mind was already racing ahead to the inevitable confrontation with his ward.
    Assuming he could find the rebellious chit.
    Samuels, the butler, was standing ramrod straight, cheeks ruddy with color, holding the front door open for him. “Sorry, milord. She caught me by surprise. I had no idea she would—”
    “Never mind, Samuels. I doubt the devil himself could have stopped her.”
    Denbigh took one step outside the portals of Denbigh Castle and looked past the long, sloping lawn to the forest of ash and oak trees beyond. They provided a leafy refuge that could easily hide Lady Charlotte. But it was too far a distance for her tohave managed to travel in the few moments since she had so precipitately ended his lovemaking.
    Denbigh shuddered as he thought of what the girl must have seen. A picture of her wide-eyed, ashen face rose before his, and he felt something he had not believed he could still feel after an entire year of excess.
Shame
. What if it had been Olivia who had opened that door? Of course, Olivia would have knocked, but that was no excuse. He probably owed the chit an apology. Damn and blast her.
    He glanced to the east, to the cliffs above the sea, and the treacherous path that led down to the pounding surf. He tried to imagine her running that far in the time since she had slammed the front door. Impossible. She was fast, but not that fast.
    He looked west to the stable. It was closer than the other two hiding places she could have sought. He began striding toward it without further consideration. She was probably saddling that stallion of hers right now to make good her escape. She was a bruising rider, especially astride. If memory served, the chit had still been wearing trousers when she interrupted him in the study.
    Denbigh frowned. The girl had no sense of decency. Dressed in trousers, every delectable line of her body was visible to any rake or rogue who cared to look. Heaven help