Engaged in Sin Read Online Free PDF

August night. Candles glowed around the room, the golden light falling on gilt and polished wood. The duke had sent a footman with a robe, one of his own. It was made of soft dark-green velvet, wrapped almost twice around her, and trailed on the floor.
    The same footman had brought sherry and a delicate crystal glass. Another had brought supper. Her heart had dropped to her toes as the servant, his face impassive, placed a large platter on a table by the fire and lifted the silver cover to reveal a gold-rimmed plate heaped with roast beef, boiled potatoes, and vegetables.
    She’d hoped—
expected
—the duke would summon her for supper.
    Then she’d received the news that had truly whipped the carpet out from beneath her feet. Since returning to this house two weeks before, the footman had told her, the duke always slept in his study. He did not make use of his bedchamber at all.
    The servant then relayed the rest of the duke’s crushing message. She would be spending her night undisturbed and she was not to trouble herself by going tohim.
His Grace would prefer to be alone
, the servant had intoned without expression,
until morning
.
    Anne walked the length of the room again, her robe dragging behind. Appetizing scents still filled the air from her meal, but she couldn’t eat. Not with a stomach clenched in panic. In the morning, the duke would decide “what to do with her.” Tonight was her last chance to convince him to keep her.
    The only way she could do that involved his bed. She had to do something to him—something carnal—he wouldn’t be able to resist. Something he wouldn’t be able to live without once he’d experienced it.
    But she had made love to the Duke of March with enthusiasm and abandon, and it appeared the earth had not moved for him. He had not begged her to stay.
    How could she get another chance at seduction? He didn’t want her near him.
    She nibbled at her thumbnail. For the first time since she’d decided to seduce the duke, penned a quick note of explanation to Kat, then used all her remaining money to hire a carriage, Anne was beginning to question her plan.
    The Duke of March was a notoriously experienced man. She was a very ordinary woman. She wasn’t a stunning beauty. Her appeal in Madame’s brothel had been her demure ladylike looks, her blond hair, her proper demeanor and speech. At twenty-two, she still looked like the kind of young woman who should be dancing at Almack’s, yet she had been available, for a price, for almost any sin a gentleman desired. Now she was too thin, since she’d been barely able to eat for days, and a henna dye had transformed her once-admired golden hair to a brassy red.
    A little voice whispered deep in her head.
You simply weren’t
enough. Was she just not very enticing? Or was it possible the duke had sensed she was not feeling anything,even though she’d given a good performance of moans and ecstasy? Kat had told her it was not much different to be a mistress than a prostitute, but now Anne was not so sure.
    Fiercely, she shook her head. She could not give in to doubt. If she did, she was going to end up hanged. She
had
to be enough, and the next time they made love she would try much harder to entice, dazzle, and enthrall him.…
    She would have to ignore the duke’s command. She had one last throw of the dice. He might toss her out on her backside tonight for disobedience, but she had to
try
.
    Anne strode to the door and opened it. She stepped out, ready to march to the study, when she heard a loud sound, like a cry of pain.
    Was she imagining things? Had someone really shouted? She waited. No other sound came. No rushing footsteps. No voices. If someone needed help, no one was racing to provide it.
    Then it came again: a deep, hoarse shout. It had definitely come from the first floor of the house. It was most decidedly a masculine sound. It must be the duke. But why weren’t his servants hurrying to help him? What was wrong?
    It took