Free Debra Mullins by Scandal of the Black Rose Page B

veins. She willed her knees to stop shaking. “And are you a gentleman, sir?”
    He gave her that charming grin again. “That’s for the lady to decide.”
    Unsettled by the low, intimate tone, she yanked her hand from his grasp. “I think not. No gentleman would flirt so with a lady who was being courted by another.”
    Some fierce emotion flickered across his face, making her regret her rash rebuke. Her heart bumped awkwardly in her chest. Had he indeed guessed that she was Rose? How had she betrayed herself? Or had she?
    “So loyal to Marc already? How admirable.”
    She tilted her chin at the goad in his voice. “We are not yet betrothed, but I can assure you that if I marry, I would be a loyal wife.”
    “Would you?” he murmured. “I wonder.”
    “You insult me,” she snapped.
    “My apologies,” he said swiftly, so swiftly, she suspected he didn’t mean a word of it. “I should have said, that where Marc is concerned, it is important to avoid even the appearance of disloyalty.”
    “Appearances can be deceiving.”
    He held her gaze a long moment. “Precisely.”
    She narrowed her eyes, tiring of his game. “And you, sir…what sort of loyalty to your cousin are you demonstrating by secluding me in this room and toying with me in such an outrageous manner? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
    His expression shuttered. “You’re right. I apologize again.”
    She took in his penitent posture, the way he clenched his hands at his sides, and felt no pity. “If you will excuse me, I must take my leave.”
    “Allow me to escort you.”
    “I can find my way out,” she insisted, heading for the open doorway.
    “I will see you to the door.” Brooking no argument, he caught up with her in two easy strides and slowed his pace to hers.
    “You are a most stubborn individual, Mr. Devereaux.” Anna swept out into the hallway, Roman behind her, just as the parlor door opened down the hall.
    “Blast it!” Rome grabbed her arm and jerked her back into the library.
    She let out a yelp of surprise as he shoved herbehind him and closed the door all but a crack. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
    “Shhh. Mrs. Wentworth is out there. You don’t want her seeing us alone together.” He peered out into the hallway through the crack in the door.
    “There would have been no chance of that had you not followed me in here.” Knowing how precarious their position was, she kept her voice to the softest of whispers but gave him her most chilling look of disapproval, which she had practiced by watching her mother.
    Clearly undaunted by The Look, he leaned closer to her. “Do you remember our discussion about loyalty, Miss Rosewood? Should my cousin hear from that busybody that we were alone together, even for a few minutes, your ‘informal’ betrothal to him would become nothing more than a fanciful dream.”
    “And you, of course, would suffer little if at all from society’s interpretation of the incident,” she scoffed.
    His expression hardened, his lips thinning to a grim line. “Perhaps you simply do not value honor as much as I do, but I assure you that my good name means everything to me.”
    Belatedly, she remembered about his father. The shadow of his sire’s scandal would surely have marked him. “Of course,” she whispered. “Please forgive me.”
    “Stay quiet,” he muttered, “and we shall both get out of this with our reputations intact.”
    She nodded, and he looked out at the events in the hallway, presenting her with a close view of his broad shoulders in a well-tailored, bottle green coat. She remembered how those shoulders had blotted out the light when he’d bent to kiss her.
    She took a deep breath to control her thoughts, but she only succeeded in bringing his scent to her, the musky cologne that had lingered on her hands even after they’d parted company. A mere whiff sent her blood humming and her body tingling.
    Dear Lord.
    He was the most confusing, irritating man she had