In the Devil's Bed (Sins of the Duke Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

over tea. I insist .”
    “Indeed.” Lord only knew when Sylvia would return home. Most likely, she would creep in along with the first rays of dawn. “Until tomorrow.”
    Sylvia hurried off in the direction of Lord Stockton’s tall, broad frame. Regan couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes she wished a little part of her was like Sylvia. Unafraid to take from the more pleasurable side of life. Still, Regan rebelled in her own way. “I’m ready, Brent.”
    “Yes, my lady.”
    Regan strode across the marble foyer of the Opera House, joining the crowd slipping out down to the street. Brent followed closely, only two steps behind her. Regan still did not like having a man who made his living through force around her, but for the few words he had spoken, he seemed like any other man.
    There was nothing mysterious about him. Secrets didn’t lurk in his eyes. Not like Captain Hazard’s.
    The cold air wrapped around her body, penetrating her cloak. Regan inhaled the frosty air and smiled. She loved the cold. Loved the way it made her skin zing.
    Light from the towering lamps of the Opera House illuminated the wide granite steps that swept down to the carriage-choked road. She squinted, searching the vehicles for her own coach. She spotted the flash of Chance green down the street to the right. The carriage was trapped in between several hackneys and a black coach.
    Regan started for the steps. “I see it.”
    “My lady!” Mr. Brent called out, catching up to her. “We should wait here for the carriage. It is safer. Much safer.”
    Regan stopped on the stair and stared wistfully at her carriage. “I see. Well, whatever you think best.”
    Gripping her umbrella, Regan glanced up at the tall blond-haired man beside her. He was right. Anyone could be out in that crowd.
    Regan swallowed. She hated living like this. Hated having to worry about what waited behind corners or down dark alleys. They waited for several moments, until only a few other of the glittering ton stood on the steps.
    The green carriage stopped at the bottom of the steps and Regan hurried down the now empty stairs. The footman folded down the step, then helped her in, and Mr. Brent swung himself up into the driver’s box.
    Regan pressed her toes against the charcoal burner, taking in its soothing heat. The carriage bounced and a thud echoed in the compartment. Leaning forward, she called to her driver, “Is anything amiss, Hopkins?”
    There was a pause. “No, my lady.”
    “Drive on then.”
    The carriage rushed off into the emptying street. Regan dropped her umbrella on the seat beside her. Leaning back against the cushioned squabs, she stared out at the street as the carriage rolled by. It took her a few moments to realize where they were. When she did, she jolted toward the window and pressed her hands against the glass.
    She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath as they passed the Inns of Court and turned onto Fleet Street. This is not the way to Park Lane.
    Dear Lord. They were headed for Whitechapel. She stared out with wide eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. The carriage couldn’t go there at this hour of the night! Not without a regiment of guards.
    Regan fell back from the window, trying to understand what was happening. Mr. Brent . The thud that she had dismissed now loomed like a terrifying warning. A warning she most certainly should have heeded.

Chapter 5
    As the carriage raced through the empty, narrow streets, Regan grabbed the door handle. She refused to sit and wait for God knew what to happen! She pushed the door open, but the street unexpectedly narrowed and the heavy door struck at the building walls, screeching against brick. It slammed shut.
    The jarring impact shot through Regan’s hand. She bit back a cry. Twisting around, she glanced out the opposite window. Like the other side, the carriage passed dangerously close to the coal-blackened buildings.
    Regan stared out the window. The street outside blurred into a