Lady of Seduction by Laurel McKee Page B

stairs, taking the steps two at a time as he turned at the landings and went to his own turret
     chamber on the floor above Caroline’s. He shed his wet clothes and tossed them away as he caught up a towel from the washstand.
     Roughly toweling his hair, he went to peer out the window at the gray sea and sky beyond.
    Night was coming, creeping toward Muirin Inish with its black, smothering cloak. He usually welcomed the night. He could hide
     inside of it, from everything but himself. Now Caroline was there, her presence close to him even when she was in another
     room, and he suspected he couldn’t hide from her. Not for long.
    He looked at the wooden floor under his feet and imagined Caroline just below. He envisioned her slowly lowering herself into
     a steaming bath, her tall, slender, pale body naked. He saw her long neck, bared by her upswept hair, the delicacy of her
     shoulders, the softness of her breasts. She glanced back over her shoulder at him, an inviting smile on her lips…
    “Mac an donais!”
Grant growled. He brought his fist down hard on the stone window ledge, obliterating her sensual image.
    If only he could lock her away in the dungeon until this was all over. But he suspected she would find a way to escape that
     as well.
    Grant threw the towel to the floor and turned to grab a clean shirt and breeches from the wardrobe. He caught a sudden glimpse
     of himself in the one looking glass he allowed in the room, the small shaving mirror over the washstand.
    With his hair slicked back, the fading gray daylight was stark on his ruined face. The burn scars traced a spider web over
     the left side of his face and neck, all the way down his torso. They made a mockery of his old nickname among certain ladies
     of Dublin Society—“Apollo the ever-bright.” Once his looks had brought him a great deal in life. But now they also made a
     mockery of his erotic daydreams of Caroline. She could do so much better.



Chapter Eight
    C aroline sat down heavily on her bedchamber chaise. Her whole body ached, and her mind felt weighed down with exhaustion after
     her adventures of the day. Yet she was still oddly restless, unable to sit down for long or make any sensible plans at all.
    This island, with its secret passages and treacherous paths, its caves and dead housemaids, was getting to her. It was pushing
     the real, practical world farther and farther away, until this windswept rock was the everyday reality and Dublin the fantastical
     dream.
    And Grant’s kiss felt like the most real thing of all.
    Caroline reached inside the neckline of her dress and drew out her locket. The tiny emeralds set in the engraved shamrock
     twinkled in the candlelight, glimmering despite the scratches of the ordeal it had gone through. But the tightly closed hinges
     protected what was within. She opened it and gazed down at her niece’s painted little face. She tried to remember Lina’s and
     Daniel’s childish laughter. Her mother and sisters. She had to focus on getting back to them.
    She snapped the locket shut. What were they all doing now? Before she left Dublin, the city was abuzz with rumors of a planned
     French invasion. It was said that Robert Emmet himself was returning from his long sojourn in Paris with new allies and old
     ones ready to rally around him again—as well as a French army at his back.
    Caroline had scoffed at those rumors and dismissed them as mere hysterical gossip. Even though the Rebellion was years ago
     now, and Ireland’s official Union with England had happened two years ago, the old fears of war and chaos lingered, as did
     the distrust between the Ascendancy and their Irish tenants and servants. There was always simmering panic that could bubble
     to the surface and explode at any moment.
    Ireland was constantly in danger, of course, but from its own population and overlords. An occupied nation was never safe.
     But Caroline was quite sure France must have better things to do than waste