The Dark One Read Online Free PDF Page A

chin, but his eyes remained cold, dead, like the eyes of a snake. “You’d better not be lying to me. Your virginity is an important asset in securing yourself a suitable husband. Stay away from Armond Wulf. If you escaped ravishment by him tonight, count yourself one of the fortunate few women who go off with him in the night and return with their virtue . . . or return even at all.”
    She couldn’t help her curiosity, even though she’d as soon put an end to the conversation and flee to the safety of her room. “What are you saying?”
    Her stepbrother smiled his snake smile. “I should have told you more than I did about Lord Wulf. He murdered a woman a few months ago in his very stable. Murdered her and was never called to account for the crime.”
    A chill raced up Rosalind’s back. “Murder,” she whispered. “But he and I—that is, he seemed like a perfect gentleman when he escorted me to the carriage.” The “perfect gentleman” claim was a lie to be sure, but she’d been alone with Armond Wulf and had never felt as if her life was in danger . . . her virtue yes, but not her life. A flash of memory came to her. The feel of Armond’s teeth against the pulse at the base of her neck. She’d felt a moment of alarm, as if he meant to bite her.
    â€œEveryone saw you leave together,” Franklin reminded her. “He wouldn’t be so brave as to think he could possibly get away with the crime a second time, not when he was seen escorting you from the ball. Which brings me back to Penmore. He will be at Lady Pratt’s tea day after tomorrow. Be nice to him.”
    Still thinking about Lord Wulf, she replied, “I will be civil. Provided that he has better manners than he did when last we met.”
    Franklin reached out and dug his fingers into the soft skin of her shoulders, recapturing Rosalind’s complete attention. “You will be charming regardless of how he treats you. Penmore and I have a business arrangement of sorts. I owe him a considerable amount in gambling debts. Among other things . . .” he added, as if to himself. “I had no idea that he would be so taken with you. He likes pretty things.”
    To Franklin, Rosalind was only a “thing.” Not a person with dreams or hopes or feelings. He’d always been a bully. And even as a child she had felt frightened around him. She suspected Franklin was the reason her father and her stepmother had not lived beneath the same roof for long. But as wonderful as the duchess had been to Rosalind, the woman had doted upon her mean-spirited son.
    â€œPerhaps I should look in on your mother,” Rosalindsaid, moving toward the stairs. “I’m sure Mary could use a rest from her vigil over the poor woman.”
    â€œMy mother doesn’t even know who you are,” Franklin snorted. “Instead, I shall come to your room and help you choose what you will wear to Lady Pratt’s tea. You must look your best, Rosalind. Appearances are everything.”
    She could very well understand why Franklin would hold a person’s outer appearance more important than what rested on the inside. Her stepbrother could be quite charming in the presence of others. Only she knew what sort of man he really was. Rosalind and, she supposed, her father, since he’d sent Franklin and his mother away. Rosalind didn’t want Franklin in her room. It was the only place in the house where she felt safe from his abuse.
    â€œI can certainly choose my own clothing,” Rosalind said. “No need to bother yourself with such trifling matters.”
    â€œNo bother,” Franklin countered smoothly. “The creditors will come circling soon enough to collect the considerable sum I’ve paid to have your wardrobe updated. Your modest taste was a bit juvenile. You must put your assets on display, Rosalind. Who better to tell you which gowns suit you for