Lady in Red (34 page)

She tsked lightly, ignoring his intimidation and attempts to shake away her poise. “What you are doing now? ’Tis only securing yourself in this place.” She glanced up, her gorgeous eyes darting about the dank cell, with its damp interior and inadequately proportioned bed. “Is that what you wish?”

He hesitated, considering her words. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t. And yet his father had placed him here. For his own good, so the old man had said. A small snaking voice whispered through his head that yes . . . perhaps he was mad. Madder now than any mercury-muddled hatter. The thought shuddered through him, leaving him brimming with fury and pain that this had happened to him. “Your wishes are not my concern.”

“Ah, but they are.” That careful gaze probed him without mercy. Pushing against his barriers, determined to breach him. “Without my say, you shall wither in these rooms.”

Who the hell did she think he was? He slammed a palm against the wall, unwilling to be handled. “You can’t keep me here.”

She blinked once, but then cocked up her chin, defiant. “I can.”

He swallowed hard, and blinked rapidly. The ability to focus his thoughts under her onslaught of information was unraveling. Quickly. The need to get rid of her, to make her leave him here so that a woman of such beauty and poise wouldn’t see him in such a disgusting state, sent him drawling, “Sod off.”

Apparently the insult was of no new occurrence, for her countenance remained untouched. “Now, you’re not actually thinking such uninspired drivel assists you?”

How long had she been doing this that she didn’t care he treated her thusly? How many men had insulted her? Attacked her? Fucked her body in their minds? The very notion was galling to him. In fact his insides tensed, burning with a sudden violence to destroy all those men. Even in his strange state. But he didn’t wish her to know that he cared. That he was capable of caring about someone else’s welfare. “I don’t give a damn.”

She tilted her head back, the tight weave of her locks bumping against the slick stones behind her. “I don’t believe that. Not for all the holy saints in the heavens above.” She hesitated. “You don’t know who I am, but I know you. You’re a good man.”

He snorted.

“It’s the only reason your father convinced me to come.”

“More fool you.”

She shook her head. “Ah no. I’m not the fool.”

“Are you insinuating I’m a fool?”

She pressed those perfect lips together before saying. “You’ve forsaken yourself and the man you are.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, hating he didn’t know what she was speaking of. “How do you know me?”

Her gaze softened. “You sent three thousand pounds to Ireland. To the west.”

Blinking, he thought back. It wasn’t possible that such a thing would make her think so highly of him, was it? “And?”

She sighed. “Do you not know how many you saved? Just with those funds, you made it possible for my family to care for the starving.”

He yanked his gaze away from her earnest one. “It was only money.”

“It was everything,” she said firmly. “And I won’t let you forget it.”

“You don’t have the power to let me do anything.”

“There I must disagree with you. Your father has given me that power. For now.”

His fingers curled, nails scraping lightly against the unforgiving surface. He desperately wished to reach out and touch something as beautiful as her hair. How would it feel? To touch something beautiful again? To have something beautiful let him touch it?

Now, the way she looked at him, as if he weren’t the very dregs of society sparked something deep within side him, urging him to believe. But he couldn’t. He’d gone too far down the road to ruin to ever come back.

“I can help you,” she whispered.