Run! a part of her urged but she seemed to be rooted to the spot. ‘Turn around.’ The steely voice commanded. As if her body was controlled by the hand of a puppeteer, Abbey turned around slowly. The woman was sitting up now, holding her dress over her breasts to cover her nakedness. If the look on her face was any indication, she was far from happy with the turn of events. Abbey nervously regarded the man who had come around the desk and was staring at her with narrowed dark eyes and wished that she could think of something other than how remarkably attractive he was. With his dark hair clipped into a queue at the nape of his neck, he looked younger than he did in his customary finery. It should have made him less intimidating. Instead, he appeared a far more dangerous animal, dark eyes fixed upon her with an intensity that was unnerving. The gossip that the mention of the Earl of Huntingdon always provoked echoed in her head… this was the most scandalous rake in England. Her feverish flush was replaced by a shiver of chilling trepidation as she thought of Cecile’s letters in her reticule.
