Free LORD DECADENT'S OBSESSION by Brita Addams Page A

they could deflower
    before the parson's noose tightened around their necks.
    In her cozy room at the inn, she plotted the next day. She almost wished he'd be
    angry with her for her impertinence. She decided the approach she would take should
    advance her original purpose in this venture. No man could resist a woman who
    flattered his sense of self. She'd not seduce his body but the things she would do to his
    mind would leave him wanting more.

    * * * * *

    Prentice rose with the sun, dressed as though going to his club and broke his fast.
    He was prepared to do what he must. It was time.
    The day was brisk, and a cool wind blew through his hair as he walked the short
    distance to the Wycroft graveyard. He took sure steps, his boots eating up the ground.
    The neat, granite stones marked the graves of his father, grandparents, and their
    parents. Aunts and uncles were buried there as well, the site holding nearly thirty
    family member's remains in all. He walked to the far side of the fenced-in plot to a stone
    that looked dissimilar to the rest.
    As his last act on Abigail's behalf, he'd had the granite cut to resemble a heart. A
    sentimental gesture, to be sure, but beneath the hard slab lay his family—the wife he
    had loved so completely, and a child of his flesh, whom he'd never gotten the chance to
    know.
    He rubbed his gloved fingers over the smooth top of the stone, reminding
    himself of his mission. He squatted in front of it, tracing his fingers over Abigail's name.
    He remained there for long minutes, the words he'd rehearsed so many times eluding
    him. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath, and began to speak.
    "You are gone, my darling, and now I must let you go." He swallowed hard, his
    eyes stinging with as yet unshed tears. "I loved you more than I knew I was capable,
    and you gave me all a man could want. I wish for your eternal peace. Take care of our
    child, and please know I will always love you. I must go on and seek my way. I must let
    you go."
    He bent his head and kissed the stone, again brushing his fingers over her name.
    A soft, warm breeze washed over him; he chose to accept that as a sign of Abigail's
    understanding. Stooping there, he cried, pouring tears of relief and loss over the tiny
    plot of ground that now housed what was once most important in this life. How could
    it all be reduced to so little? The fact remained that it was. He removed a
    monogrammed handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and wiped his eyes and face.
    "Thank you, dear Abby, thank you."
    He stood and breathed in the fresh Cambridge air. He felt cleansed, free. He'd
    unshackled himself from his past, glorious as it had been. He had no idea what the
    future held, but he was ready for it. With a lighter heart, he made his way back to the
    manor house. He had hours of travel ahead of him and a life to begin living.

    Chapter Nine

    After his return to his home, Prentice spent much of the morning in his library,
    sorting through some books he wished to take back to London with him and finishing
    up estate business. He'd enjoyed having contact with his tenants and learning more
    about the management of the large estate. He wondered how he could have allowed
    himself to become so complacent, leaving it all in the hands of Mr. Upton. But then
    again, he knew he would continue to do so.
    A light scratching on the door alerted him to Davies' presence.
    "Yes, what is it?" He continued to read a letter before signing it.
    "My lord, you have a caller."
    "A caller? Is it one of the tenants?"
    "I don't believe so, my lord, but she won't give her name."
    "She?" Now his curiosity was peaked.
    "Yes, sir. Shall I send her in?"
    "Yes, do, Davies. I will be leaving within the hour. Is everything prepared?"
    "Yes, my lord. Mrs. Polton has packed a basket of your favorites."
    "Fine, please, send in our mystery lady."

    Desiree's knees were shaking as the very proper English butler led her across the
    black-and-white-tiled entrance hall, down a