On A Wicked Dawn Read Online Free PDF Page B

in their refusal to be lenient; she’d offered, he’d accepted, ergo she was his.
    Could he tell her the truth but decline to release her? Confess he no longer needed her dowry but insist they marry anyway?
    She wouldn’t accept that. No matter how insistent he was,how hard he argued—no matter what he said—she’d feel he was only being kind, sparing her the pain of rejection. . . .
    He grimaced again, folded his arms behind his head. There was enough truth to that to make it impossible to argue—not with her; she knew him too well. He would indeed do much—given his heretofore lack of interest in marriage, possibly even that—to avoid hurting her. Females such as she, females he cared about, needed to be protected—that was one of his most fundamental beliefs. The fact they might argue, rail, and disagree was beside the point; such resistance held no power to sway him.
    The only way he might convince her he wasn’t being kind was to admit and explain his desire to have her as his wife.
    Once again, his mind seized. He couldn’t even explain that desire to himself, did not understand whence its power sprang; the idea of admitting to the type of desire that of itself impelled a man to marriage, in words, to her—the object of said desire—evoked a resistance every bit as rock-solid as his intention to wed her.
    He knew her, and the females in her family, very well; such an admission would be tantamount to handing over the reins to her, not something he would willingly do this side of hell. He wanted and would have her to wife, but he was implacably opposed to giving her any unnecessary hold over him.
    The fact that others of his kind had ultimately succumbed and done so, most recently Martin, floated through his mind; he ignored it. He had never been inclined to let emotions or desires rule him; if anything, the last eight years had forced him to master them even more rigidly. No woman was capable of overriding his will; no woman would ever control him.
    Which left him staring up at the canopy, toying with his remaining option. He considered, analyzed, extrapolated, predicted. Formulated a plan. Searched for and found the flaws, the hurdles; evaluated them, devised the means to counter them.
    It was not an easy or straightforward path, yet it was onethat led to his desired destination. And the price was one he was prepared to pay.
    He hesitated only long enough to run one last mental assessment; he saw nothing to deter him. Knowing Amelia, he had no time to lose. If he wanted to retain control of their interaction, he needed to act immediately.
    Throwing back the covers, he rose. Dragging a sheet off the bed, he wound it around his hips as he crossed to the desk before the window. Sitting, he drew a sheet of fine paper from one pigeonhole and picked up his pen.
    He was sanding the note when a footman entered with his washing water. Luc glanced up, then turned back to the note. “Wait a minute.”
    He folded the note’s corners, then dipped the pen in the inkstand and wrote her name. Waving the note to dry the ink, he turned to the footman. “Deliver this immediately to 12 Upper Brook Street.”

Chapter 2
    â€œWhy the museum?” Amelia asked as she approached him.
    Reaching out, Luc closed his fingers about her elbow and turned her around. “So we can converse in reasonable privacy, in public, and anyone seeing us will imagine we’ve simply and innocently come upon each other. No one ever imagines assignations occur in the museum. I’m here, clearly under duress, escorting my sisters and Miss Ffolliot— no ! Don’t wave. They’re going to wander and meet me later.”
    Amelia glanced at the three girls at the other end of the room, staring wide-eyed at a display. “Does it matter if they see us?”
    â€œNo. But having seen you, they’ll expect to join us, and that would be counterproductive.” He