Marissa Day by The Seduction of Miranda Prosper Page A

after a similar arrangement in Lord Thayer’s country estate and had it installed by discreet workmen shortly after they took possession of the residence.
    At the end of a dirt-floored corridor waited a single door made of rough planks and bound with black iron. Lady Viola extracted a heavy key from her reticule and let herself in.
    The room beyond would not have seemed comfortable to many. The thick crimson draperies brought no warmth to the stone walls they covered. chains dangled from the support beams and the posts had thick bolts screwed into them. Those bolts allowed the room’s master to use the ropes and chains hanging on the far wall to secure an individual in any number of positions. Water, and other fluids, stained the carpets.
    My lord was not feeling terribly experimental tonight , thought Viola as she sauntered into the room past the splintered bed frame. A young woman lay there, spread-eagled on her back, chained by her wrists and ankles to the square corner posts. The remnants of rough clothing were the only cushioning underneath her, and red welts showed how she had struggled. She was not struggling now, however. She lolled on the bed, her breathing hard and ragged and punctuated by low moans.
    Lord Sinjohn Thayer lounged in a wing-backed chair, his shirt open, his breeches only partially buttoned and his booted feet propped up on a large ottoman shaped like a man and a woman. They were rendered in incredible detail; both blindfolded and tightly gagged and both on their knees, so that they bore the velvet cushion on their backs.
    As Viola entered, Sinjohn raised his glass of wine to her.
    “Madame!” He held out his empty hand and she gave him hers to kiss, which he did quite thoroughly, lighting sparks of desire deep within her. As a young woman, she had been to the court of the Prince of Wales and savored many of the exotic pleasures on offer there. But nothing had compared to the pleasures taught to her by the Sorcerer who claimed her as his Catalyst. “Is all well?”
    Viola took a deep breath. She hated to disappoint him, but she hated to admit she might have made a mistake even worse. “Not entirely, my lord.”
    Sinjohn set his glass down on a table. “What is it?”
    Viola looked at the table. Its pedestal had the shape of a naked woman with her bound hands stretched over her head to support the top.
    “I saw Rathe and Marlowe leaving our neighbor’s house. They were not well, but neither were they dead.”
    Lord Thayer licked his lips. “And the girl?”
    “Gone home with her mother, a sudden fever, apparently.”
    “So.” Sinjohn sipped his wine meditatively. “They were stronger than we thought.”
    “They might not survive until morning,” she said hopefully.
    Sinjohn pursed his mouth. “It is possible,” he agreed. “But I think we cannot count on it.”
    “What do we do?” Viola paced to the door and back again. “They’ll know ...”
    “Calmly, my dear. They already knew Smith and his merry men were going to sneak into our party. It was to lure them in that we invited Mrs. Quicke and her daughter at all.”
    “Yes, but ...”
    “I said calmly.” A hint of steel touched Lord Thayer’s voice. Viola closed her mouth at once and dropped her gaze. “Now,” he went on. “Supposing they do survive, and that they now have little Miranda Prosper to play with and protect, our goal is unchanged. Rathe and Marlowe have proved themselves too dangerous to be permitted to live, and Miss Prosper too strong to waste.”
    “They’ll be checking the guest list,” said Viola, endeavoring to keep her voice cool. “To try to discover the Sorcerer among the invited attendees.”
    “Which will bring them to you and me in short order.” He sighed. “The question is, what will they do then?”
    Viola forced herself to think. In all their years together, her husband had seldom been wrong. It was his gifts for manipulation as much as her own that had brought them this close to gaining