Earls Just Want to Have Fun by Shana Galen Page A

what is waiting for you at home? I imagine it is some sort of hovel you share with a flock of pickpockets and thieves. If you are Lady Elizabeth, why go back?”
    She sniffed and looked away from him. The gesture reminded him exactly of something a miffed duchess would do. It made him wonder. But if she didn’t want to talk, that was fine with him. He was exhausted. She might be light, but it had been taxing to fight her and then carry her.
    Silence descended, and he heard the ticking of the clock. He tried to sleep, even closed his eyes.
    â€œYou wouldn’t understand,” she said finally, breaking the silence.
    â€œTry me.”
    â€œMy cronies are my family.”
    â€œAnd there’s loyalty even among thieves, correct?”
    â€œLoyalty, yes,” she said, but he could hear in her voice there was more.
    He rose on one elbow, interested now despite his intention of ignoring her and going to sleep.
    â€œHave you considered that if you don’t let me go, they might come looking for me?”
    â€œHave you considered they might not care?”
    â€œOh, they care,” she said, her voice strange and flat. “And if you care about your family and your pretty house, you’ll let me go before Satin comes for me.” He heard the hitch in her voice. “Before it’s too late for both of us.”

Four
    She woke suddenly and reached for her knife. Something pinned her arm, and it took her a moment to realize she was tied. It took her another moment to remember where she was. Not in the flash ken. Seven Dials was never silent. There was always a baby crying or a bawd arguing with a cove or some ballad-seller screeching about the last confessions of Newgate’s condemned. No, this was far too quiet for the flash ken. She was in the bastard’s castle. In his bedchamber. The fire in the hearth had burned low, and her body felt heavy and warm. She must have slept for several hours, despite her intention to stay awake and defend herself against the bastard.
    She glanced at his bed, staring at it until she could make out his form. He snored softly, and she realized he was also asleep. Maybe he really didn’t mean to hurt her. Ha! And once she trusted him, he’d carry out his evil plan. She couldn’t afford to trust him. And she couldn’t stay in his castle.
    It took a bit of doing, because the bastard was better at tying knots than she anticipated, but she managed to free herself from the bindings. She might have pulled her dagger from her boot, but if she cut the cords, he’d know she had it. She might need her secrets. Besides, drapery cords were too silky and thick to be effective. Still, once she was free, something in her chest lifted. The tightness and panic ebbed away.
    Silently, she rose from the chair and tiptoed to the bed. In the darkness, it was difficult to discern his features. Finally, she found the spill of his dark hair on his white pillow. His arm was thrown up beside his head, and he did not stir as she stared down at him. His chest rose in a steady rhythm. She couldn’t see his face, but she imagined it was slack with sleep. What must it be like to sleep so soundly, so deeply? She always slept with her hand curled about a dagger, her ears listening for any treacherous sound, her eyes ready to pop open. Once again she wondered if the soup had been drugged. She never fell asleep so easily or so completely.
    But then her belly was never full, either. Strange to wake and not feel the gnawing hunger in her midsection.
    If she were to escape, she needed the key to the bedroom. She tried to remember what he’d done with it after he’d locked the door. He’d been wearing a coat. Maybe he’d stowed it in the coat. He’d taken off the coat before going to bed. She remembered him wearing only shirtsleeves when he’d righted her chair and covered her with the blanket.
    She didn’t know why he’d done her a kindness.