Free Wicked by Shannon Drake

“John!” he said, looking at Camille even as he addressed the man. “Please! You mustn’t make it sound as if you’re threatening the lass!”
    Those sharp blue eyes of his focused on her with some humor. There was no need at all for Sir John to threaten her. She already knew that she was being threatened. Yet, along with whatever other skills he had acquired through the years, he was an excellent actor, for it appeared that he was being pleasant, as courteous and correct as his breeding should merit.
    She tried to pull her hands away casually, but his grip was firm. She forced a smile. “How very kind of you, Lord Stirling. I’m afraid I should be a rather humble choice for such an evening.”
    “Nonsense. We are living in the age of enlightenment. What better choice for an evening’s companion than a young woman who is not just beautiful, but intelligent and so very well versed on the subject of the evening’s passion.”
    “Camille!” Sir John murmured, prodding her.
    Stirling’s smile was a bit grim, and definitely amused. She longed to jerk hard on her hands. In fact, she longed to tell him that she’d rather spend the evening in an opium den with hoods and thieves.
    “It’s not…the mask, is it?” he queried.
    Oh, what a tone! The man was playing upon pathos now! “No,” she said sweetly. “This is the age of enlightenment, My Lord, as you have said. No man, or woman, should ever be judged by appearance.”
    “Bravo!” Sir John complimented.
    Apparently her tormenter decided that he wasn’t going to wait for her actual agreement. “Then, indeed, yes, John, I will attend the upcoming fund-raiser. And you may be assured that both my interest and my income are returned full score to the pursuit of our educational ideals. Well, you’ve work to do, and I caused Miss Montgomery’s tardiness. And now, I fear, I am taking more time. John, it is, indeed, a pleasure to see you so well—a bit disarrayed as ever in your studies and intents, but looking hale and hearty. Miss Montgomery, Shelby will be here with the carriage to attend to you at…six, is it?”
    “It’s usually at least six-thirty,” she murmured, aware that Sir John was now staring at them both, gaping.
    Stirling decided to let him out of his curiosity, a feeling so strong it was surely about to tear Sir John into pieces. “This dear young woman’s guardian had quite an accident on the highway last night—imagine, if you will, right at my property. Naturally, he is my guest. And quite naturally, Miss Montgomery came in haste and fear to tend to him. To my great delight, Castle Carlyle is hosting guests once again. So good day, then, to you both.”
    “G-good day, Brian!” Sir John stuttered, still staring at Stirling as he turned about, exiting casually, yet with the natural dignity of a man born to position.
    He was gone for several moments before Sir John—who stared blankly after him long after he disappeared from sight—turned to Camille, amazed.
    “Good God!” he said.
    She could offer only a grimace and a shrug.
    “This is quite amazing!”
    “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know,” she murmured. “I…merely went out to tend to my guardian.”
    “An accident?” Sir John said, frowning. “He’s going to be all right?”
    Sir John was a decent fellow. He seemed disturbed to realize that events had made him completely forget to ask after the welfare of a fellow human being.
    “Yes, yes, thank you. We believe he has suffered some bruises, but nothing serious.”
    “These hansom and carriage drivers!” Sir John said with a sniff. “They can be so careless and reckless. Then again, it doesn’t take much to set a fellow up driving!” He seemed quite disgusted that there was no training necessary for drivers, despite the fact that many a rich man, and probably several of his peers, had invested in such cabs, heedless of who might be driving.
    She smiled, refraining from informing him that the “accident” had not