The Dark One Read Online Free PDF

that purpose than a man?”
    When Franklin moved ahead of her, as if he expected she’d follow like a docile pet, Rosalind put her foot down. “I will not have you in my room, Franklin. My father paid for this house, even if it by right belongs to your mother. He would have never left my future in her hands had he known she would become so ill shortly after his death.”
    Her stepbrother stood poised in front of the stairway, his back to her. “Yes, a pity about the duchess. But her lawyers quite agreed that she is in no condition to handle your future, or your inheritance. They were all too happy to pass that responsibility on to me.”
    When he turned to face her, his face was red and thevein still throbbed in his forehead. “I have control of you, Rosalind. Your doting papa is no longer alive to order me out of his house. You will do exactly what I tell you to do, or you will suffer the consequences. Consequences I don’t think you will enjoy . . . but maybe you will; care to find out?”
    As brave as Rosalind wanted to be, she backed down, and lowered her gaze. What he said was true. Her guardianship had been given to Franklin. He had control of her money, which was how it had come to be recklessly lost to her. Franklin had a gambling addiction. It was the reason she was able to slip away with Armond Wulf at the Greenleys’ ball. Franklin had been in the back rooms playing cards instead of chaperoning her as he should have been doing. Not a mistake she imagined he’d make again.
    Her stepbrother turned back and started up the stairs. “Are you coming, little sister?”
    Rosalind’s gaze drifted toward the foyer, and for a moment, she was tempted to run. But she had no money of her own, nowhere to go except back to the country, and no way to pay her passage there. For the time being, she was at Franklin’s mercy. But she hadn’t given up on her idea to foil his plans for her. How she would do so without making him angry enough to beat her she hadn’t figured out as of yet. But she would.
    â€œRosalind,” he called, his tone more demanding. “Come along as I’ve told you to do.”
    Shoulders slumped, she followed, very much dreading her destined meeting with Lord Penmore in two days’ time and still feeling the sting of Franklin’s slap upon her cheek.
    â€œHe’s all that you said he is; I’ll grant you that. Not an unsound bone in his body. The animal is magnificent,” Lord Pratt said.
    Armond brushed imaginary lint from his dark riding coat. He wondered why, with his reputation for breeding horses, people still seemed surprised by his integrity. If he didn’t deal fairly with the silly people, he wouldn’t have gained the reputation he had as a breeder.
    He’d recently returned from his country estate, Wulfglen, where he’d taken special care to choose the horses he brought back to London with him to sell. The Wulfs might be rumored to be murderers or worse, but they were unrivaled as horse breeders.
    â€œLet’s go inside,” the earl said. “We’ll have a brandy in the study and I’ll pay you for the animal.”
    â€œIt’s barely teatime,” Armond reminded the man. “I care little for spirits. Just payment and then I’ll be on my way.”
    The earl nodded, probably happy to be granted a civil reprieve from his duties as a proper host. Armond followed his client down a brick path to the house. The moment they stepped inside, the murmur of voices could be heard coming from the front parlor.
    â€œMy wife is hosting a tea,” the earl said. “She’s introducing the late Duke of Montrose’s daughter to proper society. Oh, but I’ve forgotten: you met the young woman at the Greenleys’ ball.”
    Judging by the sly gleam that entered the earl’s eyes, the man more than knew Armond and Rosalind had already met. He was spoiling for