Midnight Pleasures With a Scoundrel Read Online Free PDF

one was in danger here, and Swindler had more important matters to which he should attend. This assignment was petty foolishness.
    Still, Swindler turned in a direction that would take him and Miss Watkins away from Rockberry and provide the marquess with only a view of their backs. Swindler didn’t trust Rockberry to have the good sense not to approach them and reveal his purpose. While Rockberry’s doing so would bring the assignment to a swift end, Swindler wanted its end to come on his terms.
    “So how did you come to know Rockberry?” he asked after several moments of silence, when he was certain they were past being noticed by the odious man. She shook her head. “I don’t know him personally. I’ve never met him.”
    “But you know of him?”
    She nodded, and he could see she was distressed.
    “Miss Watkins, if he’s harmed you in any way, I shall—”
    “No, not me. My sister. He trifled with Elisabeth, so I was curious about him. Shortly after I arrived in London, I asked someone to point him out to me.” She paused for a moment, as though wanting to take care with her words, with what she revealed, and it occurred to him that perhaps they were both playacting. Unfortunately for her, he was the master and would eventually discern whatever it was she wished to hide, while she’d learn very little about him. He was fairly certain he knew the answer already. Rockberry had undoubtedly ruined her sister, and Elisabeth had flung herself from the cliff rather than live with the shame of it. She who was to marry well and help her sister have her own Season had failed miserably. As for Eleanor, perhaps she was striving to discover if Rockberry was worth her sister’s affection. Whatever her reasons, he found himself intrigued by the challenge she presented. He quickly grew bored with women who gave too much, too easily, and while it was her motives, her plans, that he sought, he saw no reason that the quest couldn’t be enjoyable for them both.
    “I…I’m sorry, Mr. Swindler,” she finally said. “I’ve had quite enough of the park. I must return to my lodgings. Thank you ever so much for the map. I shall put it to good use, I assure you.”
    “Will you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you home? I can see you’re upset. I’d like to ensure you arrive safely.”
    She blinked as though his words were not what she’d expected, or perhaps not what she wanted. At last she nodded.

    As they walked on in silence, she was very much aware of Mr. Swindler’s gaze riveted on her. She wondered what he was thinking, if he was as unexpectedly drawn to her as she was to him. She’d been surprised by that, by how his presence in the park had affected her. His features were strong, almost craggy, like her beloved jagged coastline, which could appear beautiful one moment and deadly dangerous the next.
    She could imagine him standing on the deck of a ship, legs akimbo. His muscles strained the fabric of his jacket. In spite of his largeness, there was a gentleness, about him, almost a playfulness. Yet he also possessed a darker side. Now and then she caught a glimpse of it in his eyes. She thought it should have frightened her. Instead she was intrigued. If anyone had asked her, even a year ago, what she would do if she ever was granted the opportunity to visit London, she would have innocently—and perhaps all too naively—answered that she intended to attend glorious balls, fabulous dinners, and an occasional opera. She might have even mentioned that she hoped to fall in love. Twelve months earlier—no, as little as nine months earlier—she had believed that London was the place where the daughter of an inconsequential viscount could find happiness, could achieve the realization of her dreams for a loving husband, a good marriage, and contentment. She had thought the nobility was to be admired, had not considered that some among them were hideously dangerous. That some, like the Marquess of Rockberry,