The Libertine Read Online Free PDF

his searches he directed his frustration
toward those who sought the ruination of his kind. Keavey was set on keeping
Lennox and his commerce out of the Royal Burgh of Saint Andrews. Others he did
trade with supported the legitimacy of Lennox’s interest in affairs of the
burgh, whereas Keavey spread rumor and suspicion.
    And now Keavey’s pretty cousin had offered herself into his
hands.
    Risky or no, Mistress Chloris was far too tempting a spoil for
him to ignore.

CHAPTER THREE
    “Are you well this morning, cousin?”
    Chloris set her fork down in order to respond. She forced
herself to smile across the table at her cousin Tamhas and his wife, Jean. “Much
better, thank you.”
    Tamhas observed her briefly before returning his attention to
his plate of bannocks and eggs.
    Chloris was relieved. She wasn’t sure how much amiable
conversation she could offer. The night before she’d been unable to attend
dinner as planned. After her visit to the house in the woods her emotions were
in complete disarray and she knew she would be unable to act sociably. Claiming
a dizzy spell after her ride, she had excused herself and gone to her
bedchamber. Jean had the cook prepare a gentle broth, but Chloris could scarcely
even manage that, so preoccupied was she by the strange events of the evening.
Even now, the morning after, she did not feel fully in charge of herself, and if
she did not order her thoughts and maintain her composure her host would notice
and question it.
    However, the man at the house in the woods was not easily
dismissed from her thoughts. Distance did not lessen the connection he’d made
with her, or her curiosity.
    It was only as she mounted her horse, driven by the urgent need
to turn back toward her cousin’s house, that she realized she did not even know
the man’s name.
    It was likely that he withheld his name for self-protection,
she decided. Even though he’d been somewhat discourteous and had touched her and
alluded to more acts in that vein, he was as charming and well mannered as any
polite man in society when he chose to be. Yet his fundamental nature was very
different to her own—wild, unruly and decadent.
    Even though she knew he was at risk of being called out for
what he did, Chloris couldn’t actually imagine anyone attempting to challenge
him. There was a sense of power about the man that was astonishing. Something
borne of his witchcraft, no doubt. Deep down she recognized there were men out
there who would indeed challenge him, because he did not swear allegiance to
king or kirk but to some other, forbidden law.
    She’d all but run from the place the evening before, but she’d
lain awake thinking about everything he’d said to her. Her mind and body had
been filled with the experience, not only the potential of what he’d said, but
the odd thrill there had been in it, despite the danger of consulting with those
who practiced dark, perhaps even evil ways.
    There was also a devastating allure about the man and when she
had eventually drifted into a fitful sleep her dreams were restless and filled
with images of him. The fact he had been so eager to help her, so interested in
her, made her wonder if he planted those images in her mind. Was he capable of
such things? She had no idea, but she’d never before spent every moment
recalling each word of a conversation with relish, reliving every moment—every
glance, every touch—in her mind.
    She was afraid of him, but also fascinated. That he was a
compelling personage was unquestionable, but still she wondered at the effect
he’d had on her. Moreover, she still couldn’t decide if it was wise or foolish
to return and partake of his ritual. Hope and curiosity made her want to try it.
Wariness and fear battled the desire to do so.
    As she attempted to eat her breakfast, she questioned whether
she could put herself wholly in his hands, open to him and trust him to
undertake this act—this ungodly, heathen act—to save her marriage, to