Rules of Attraction Read Free Page B

beside a large, green brocade armchair. Paintings in the newest soft and delicate style warmed the plaster walls— and a gentleman stood with his back to the room, gazing out of the shiny, glass-paned window where beyond only black night and endless fog were visible. He was tall, broad-shouldered, long-legged, wore stark black and white and clasped his hands behind his back. His black hair hung over his collar, and for all the notice he took of Mrs. Trenchard and Hannah, he might not have heard their entrance.
    Certainly he did not turn when Mrs. Trenchard curtsied and announced, "Miss Hannah Setterington, my lord."
    For one moment he stood stiffly, a lonely figure waiting for… something. Then in a low, deep voice he commanded, "Leave us."
    Hannah's breath caught.
    That voice. That tone.
    Her heart gave a thud. Then another. Then another, marking each second, each excitement, each fear.
    From the back he looked like… and the reflection in the glass seemed to be familiar.
    But she knew how wrong she could be. When he dwelt in her thoughts, all men looked like him.
    And yet… and yet…
    Vaguely, she heard the door shut. Slowly, he turned to face her.
    And the foreboding which had haunted her for nine years became reality.
    This man had never killed his wife.
    Because she was his wife.
     
     

2
    D ougald. Dougald Pippard. Not the marquess of Raeburn. Plain Mr. Dougald Pippard, a wealthy Liverpool gentleman and entrepreneur.
    But he stood with his back to the window, and there could be no doubt. This was her husband, for his vivid eyes glowed with triumph. He had always been a keen observer of human emotions; now, she knew, he marked the winds of recollection and shock that swept her.
    Yet when she had caught her breath, he said only, "You're late."
    Late. Yes, nine years late for a meeting with the man she had married. Married despite her misgivings, and only after she had run away for the first time. She had caught a train, he had caught her and…" You're not the earl of Raeburn." Her voice didn't sound like her own. Too deep, for one thing, and very steady, considering the circumstances. "You can't be."
    His lips, the narrow, chiseled lips over which she had once loved to linger, moved in slow, precise enunciation. "I assure you, I am."
    "How? But… how?" A shudder rattled her.
    His eyes narrowed. "Come to the fire."
    She didn't wait to be told twice. Her instinct might be to flee, but her good sense told her he had set this trap with care and guile, and he would relish the chance to do whatever a man did to his runaway wife. So she would not incite him.
    Besides, she was cold.
    But her defensive instinct could not be denied. She couldn't persuade herself to take her gaze off of him for even so long as it took her to walk to the fire. So she sidled toward the cluster of chairs and tables around the hearth, watching him endlessly.
    The years had wrought changes. So many changes.
    When Hannah had first come to live under his roof in Liverpool, her mother had gone to work as his housekeeper, and she had been a skinny, wide-eyed twelve-year-old. Yet even then she had been fascinated by his face: the bold, French cheekbones, the strong jaw, the plain, short nose and the large ears. His skin had been brown, but his eyes were a beautiful gold-speckled green that bespoke some Scottish ancestry. His lashes were long and black and silky. His hair was fine and black and shiny. And he had been so tall: To the youthful Hannah, he had been the essential mix of Viking and Celt and salt-of-the-earth English. His genteel family had lived in the Northlands for two thousand years. They had adapted and adopted every new wave of migration while retaining their own Celtic roots, and Dougald liked to boast he was related to every family north of London.
    Now time and experience had refined his features, giving them a bleakness that matched the bare, grim rock of the castle he called his own. His skin seemed stretched thinly across his