Free Shameless by Annie Stuart Page A

keep her passion in check. “I want to smash their entire wicked organization. I want to expose them to such shame they don’t dare meet ever again.”
    “Then we’re agreed,” he said, ignoring the fact that she hadn’t agreed to anything.
    She reached for another cake. “Some women might like masterful males. Personally I find them tedious in the extreme.”
    But he didn’t rise to the bait. “Then you’ll simply have to be bored. Do you have anything more—” he waved an elegant hand “—more festive? That gown looks like it belongs to a Quaker.”
    She didn’t blush. “I might have something older. From my season, perhaps.”
    “Lovely,” he said wearily. “I have a choice between a hopeless dowd and someone ten years outof date. I’m not sure my consequence will survive such a blow.”
    “You’ll manage.” She reached for another cake. “So first step is to identify the members. What next?”
    “Let’s see how far we get with step one,” he said and passed the plate to her.
    She eyed it suspiciously for a moment, then took it with an air of defiance. He raised an eyebrow, though she wasn’t sure if it was for her defiance or the fact that she took another cake, but she didn’t care. He was the one who ordered extra cakes.
    A moment later the majordomo reappeared. “Richmond, have my carriage brought out. Lady Carstairs needs to be returned to her house.”
    “I can walk,” she protested, swallowing the last bit of cake.
    “From my house? Alone? I do realize you don’t care about your reputation, but I have mine to think of. Either take my carriage or I’ll walk you home, but since there’s a cold rain I prefer the carriage.”
    She had little choice. And besides, it did look awful outside, the rain running down the windows in icy sheets. “There’s no need for you to accompany me,” she said haughtily.
    “I had no intention of doing so, though my mother would be appalled. Since I now have to change my previous, far more convivial plans for tonight, I shall have to come up with an alternative.” He gave her a slow, assessing look. “I’ll simply have to look elsewhere for feminine companionship.”
    She wanted to arch a brow and say, not with me, just to prove how little she cared, but he’d already given her a major set-down, and she didn’t want to give him another chance. “I’m certain you’ll manage,” she said. “If we accomplish our goal early in the evening, then you can take me home and go on to whatever institution has replaced the White Pearl to slake your…your…”
    “My thirst?” he offered in an innocent tone. “I’m afraid their cellar is of indifferent quality. Or were you perhaps talking about some other desire I need taken care of?”
    Two could play at that game. She smiled back at him, her gaze limpid. “I’m certain you’ll manage to take care of whatever needs you might have. You are, after all, a wealthy man.” She rose. “As delightful as this has been, I’d best return home and see if we can find something presentable for me to wear.”
    He rose as well, punctilious as ever. “I am in a positive terror of anticipation.” His eyes slid over her, slowly, assessingly, and she had the odd notion that it felt like a physical touch. She wanted to shake it off. “One more thing, Lady Carstairs,” he said, and his voice had lost that taunting edge. “You are not to come here unaccompanied again. In fact, you are not to come here at all. I refuse to be trapped into compromising you—I have far more convivial plans for my future.”
    “As do I, Lord Rohan,” she said in an even voice. “Point well taken. I’ll be ready by half past nine.”
    “If you’re punctual you’ll be the first woman in my acquaintance to manage it.”
    “That’s simply because women put off having to be with you for as long as possible,” she said in her sweetest voice. “Good afternoon, my lord.”
    “My lady.” She left, but, before the butler could