Free The Dark One by Ronda Thompson Page A

of the stable where it was darker. “Down there. I can’t stall the horses on that end now. They seem to smell the blood.”
    She shivered again. “Did you know her?”
    Turning to face the stall he leaned against, Lord Wulf stroked the chestnut’s muzzle. “Her name was Bess O’Conner, and no, I didn’t know her. She was a prostitute, no one of consequence, or I’m sure more would have been done in the search to find her killer.”
    â€œHow did she get here?” Rosalind walked to the center of the stable and stared down the long row of stalls.
    â€œI don’t know. I came home from an evening out. I had dismissed the stable hands for a wedding. One of the grooms got married that night. I went to put my horse up and I heard a moan. That’s when I found her.”
    Rosalind rubbed her arms. “Did she say anything to you?”
    When he didn’t respond, she glanced at him. He seemed lost in thought. As if he felt her regard, he straightened and turned away from the chestnut.
    â€œNo. The woman had been beaten. I tried to learn more about her shortly after it happened. I wanted very much to find the man responsible for her suffering. I wanted very much to make him suffer in turn.”
    The passion in his voice made Rosalind believe him. She thought at that moment it was very fortunate for the man responsible for Bess O’Conner’s death that Armond Wulf hadn’t found him.
    â€œRosalind!”
    She jumped and then wheeled around to see Franklin and Penmore standing inside the stable door. Her heart slammed against her chest, and she imagined the color drained from her face. Her stepbrother looked livid.
    â€œBack already?” Armond asked. He walked to the middle of the stable, placing himself directly betweenRosalind and the two men. “I was just showing Lady Rosalind the horses. She has taken a liking to the Arabian filly. Perhaps you’d like me to have her saddled for your stepsister to try?”
    Marcus’s face turned a darker shade of purple. “You purposely misled us,” he accused. “We thought you were driving the carriage. Had I known you wouldn’t be going along, I would have never allowed Rosalind to stay behind, and you know it.”
    Armond didn’t flinch at Franklin’s angry tone, not the way Rosalind did. But then, Armond had never been on the back side of his hand.
    â€œLady Rosalind is no worse for wear for a few moments spent alone in my company, as you can plainly see.”
    â€œThat isn’t the point,” Franklin bit out.
    Armond lifted a brow. “Isn’t it? Then what is, Chapman?”
    Her stepbrother took a menacing step toward Armond. “Had anyone seen the two of you here alone together, it would have caused gossip. Penmore plans to offer for her. He won’t want a woman whose name has been dragged through the mud.”
    Obviously not in the least intimidated by Franklin, Armond glanced toward the viscount. “Is that right, Penmore? Do you plan to make an offer for Lady Rosalind? The same as you’ll make an offer for the horses?”
    Penmore had worn a rather amused expression during the confrontation. Now he sobered. “Watch your step, Wulf. What I plan to do as far as Lady Rosalind is concerned is between me and her stepbrother.” The man lifted a bushy brow. “You don’t plan to offer for the lady, do you?”
    Rosalind’s gaze traveled back and forth from one man to the other during the exchange. Now her gaze landed onArmond, and for a brief moment she willed him to say, “Yes.” Why she would was not anything immediately clear to her. Well, besides the obvious. A tall, blond god of a man pitted against a short, plump, balding viscount. But Rosalind knew in her heart more than desperation must drive her to make such a decision. Respect? Armond glanced away from the viscount, and even that option was taken from