Free Wicked by Cheryl Holt

witnessed,” he tentatively said.
    “That’s putting it mildly.”
    “Oscar is a bully and fiend. Don’t let him bother you. He’s not worth it.”
    She looked sad and weary and so alone. There was an air about her that rattled his masculine instincts, urging him to protect her, to shelter her from harm. But her situation was beyond him, and he had to remember that it was.
    “May I ask you a question?” she said.
    “I can’t guarantee I’ll answer, but you can certainly ask.”
    “If you were pressed to commit a moral wrong, but by doing it you’d be serving the greater good, would you proceed?”
    “That sounds like the sort of unsolvable philosophical puzzles my professors posed when I was in school.”
    She held out her palms, as if weighing two heavy objects. “Would you risk sin and damnation or would you cast caution to the wind?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “What if you had no other option but to agree? What then?”
    “Then…I suppose I’ve never viewed a bit of sin as being all that horrid. And the damnation I’ll leave to pious idiots like Oscar Oswald.”
    “You’re hopeless,” she scoffed. “Do you ever wish you could snap your fingers and suddenly become someone new and different?”
    “I used to—when I was younger.”
    “But not anymore?”
    “No. My life’s all right. It wasn’t so grand when I was a boy, but then I grew up and went off to the army. Things were better for me there.”
    “I heard you were brought to Summerfield from an orphanage.”
    “Why, Miss Ralston!” he mocked. “Have you been gossiping about me?”
    “Yes. Quite flagrantly.”
    “Shame on you.”
    “I expect you’ll survive it.”
    “I expect I will too, and I must confide that I’m positively ecstatic to discover you were interested in learning more about me.”
    “Be silent, you vain oaf.” She peeked up at him and inquired, “Why are you pestering me? There are dozens of women on the estate and hundreds in the village. Why not harass one of them? Why me?”
    “I don’t know,” he honestly told her, and he truly didn’t. She intrigued him, and he hadn’t a clue as to why. He couldn’t stay away.
    And wasn’t it best if he wooed her? It would make the ending so much simpler.
    “You know why you’re doing it,” she chided. “Are you trying to get me in trouble with Mr. Oswald? Are you trying to jeopardize my betrothal?”
    “No.”
    “If you don’t want me to marry him, admit it. Don’t play these games with me.”
    “It doesn’t matter to me if he marries you. I’m serious. His business isn’t any of mine.”
    “How can you say that? You live here! You’ve always lived here, and while I don’t for a second understand your relationship with Mr. Oswald, everything he does affects you.”
    “It affected me when I was a child. I’m an adult now, and he can go hang for all I care.”
    “Then why are you in my room? Tell me the real reason so we can deal with it and I can convince you to depart before we’re caught together.”
    She turned from the window so she was facing him. He gazed down at her, riveted by the green of her eyes. She was smart and fetching, and she deserved so much more than Stanley and the plans he had for her.
    It would be wonderful if James could steal her away from Stanley, if he could sneak off with her and wed her himself. Yet he didn’t have the money or the desire to ever wed. Many of his friends had let themselves be leg-shackled, and none of them were happy.
    If James was eager for feminine company, he fraternized with trollops who made no demands on him. They were content to frolic without any extended commitment. A gently bred female like Rose Ralston would bring a host of responsibilities he prayed he’d never have the misfortune to assume.
    “You fascinate me,” he confessed.
    “You barely know me. I couldn’t possibly.”
    “You’re so brave.”
    “Me? Brave?”
    “Yes. You picked up and traveled to Summerfield, and you’re ready