Free My Dangerous Duke by Gaelen Foley Page B

know what to think: The man she had reason to fear the most had just saved her life.
    Where did that leave her now?
    Wrapping her hands around the mug, she shut her eyes, still hearing the horrific sound of the stone ledge breaking under her.
    If not for Warrington, she would be dead.
    A tremor ran through her.
    She had threatened suicide as a final, desperate measure to gain her freedom, but even the earth itself seemed to be against her, delivering her back to him, whether she liked it or not.
    She had been so close to escape! But now her hopes were dashed. She was glad to be alive, of course, but having been recaptured, she feared she might be in for an even darker fate now that she had displeased the man she had been “given” to, had made him risk his own life to save hers. Now Warrington could claim that she owed him whatever he might want. Even now, she could feel his silent anger throbbing through the Spartan little room.
    Dear heaven, what punishment might she have to endure for her attempt to flee? She let out a long, shaky exhalation, tears threatening behind her closed eyes. As she huddled in her chair and held the mug close, letting the curling steam warm her nose, she searched her heart to find out if there was any fight left in her.
    Always, the thought of her seafaring papa gave her another little ounce of strength to keep holding on.
    The memory of the man who had laughed in the face of a tempest, along with the sweet, spicy taste of the cider with its bracing hint of cinnamon began, ever so gradually, to bring her back to the world of the living.
    At least she did not deceive herself into some vapid dream that Warrington had pulled her back to safety because he somehow cared. She was not a fool. He had spoken kindly to her outside—the thought of his gentle tone sharpened the sting of unshed tears behind her eyes.
    How she longed for someone to be kind to her. But she swallowed hard and thought, No. She would not fall for that ruse. She did not dare believe in it. He did not care about her. His heroic rescue was more likely due to the fact that if a dead body were spotted floating in the ocean around here, it could draw unwanted attention to the secret trade in kidnapped women that the smugglers were operating on behalf of the libertine duke and his unspeakable rakehell friends.
    Easy, Kate. I just want to help.
    Of course, you do, Your Grace.
    When she opened her eyes again in bristling uneasiness, he had just stepped past her to throw another log onto the fire.
    A discreet knock on the door sounded just then. “Sir?” a voice queried from the other side.
    “What is it, Eldred?” the autocrat clipped out.
    “Will the young lady require the physician? I can send down to the village straightaway.”
    Warrington cast her an ominous glance. “Do you want the doctor?”
    Kate shook her head vehemently. “No. No one from the village.” She was a bit banged up overall, her shoulder wrenched from when the duke had grabbed her arm and stopped her from plunging over the cliff, but other than that, she was none the worse for wear.
    He eyed her skeptically but did not argue. “The physician won’t be necessary, Eldred. Just some dry clothes for us both.”
    “Very good, sir, but, er, I am not altogether certain we have any ladies’ apparel.”
    “Improvise then, Eldred! It’s not the promenade. Bring boys’ clothes if that’s all we’ve got for her. She can hardly go round naked. As much as I might enjoy that,” he added in a low, sharp aside to her.
    She furrowed her brow.
    He looked pleased at having goaded a reaction from her, however mild. Then he passed a bold, leisurely gaze over her body. “One of the younger footmen ought to be about her size,” he said in the direction of the door. “Shoes for her, too, Eldred.” To her, he drawled: “Ever heard of those? Astonishing new invention.”
    Kate’s frown deepened to a guarded scowl; she was not sure what to make of his sardonic tone. This