Page 39 of The Forsaken
The mocking set of his handsome mouth pulled a squeal from her.
“Release me at once!”
Not only did he not release her, but he also gave her a little shake. “Dashing directly into the path of a deuced runaway carriage and nearly getting your neck broken twice? Who should be blamed?”
Years of dealing with men-children prepared her for a moment such as this.
“You, my lord, have earned us a fresh audience,” she said calmly.
The viscount followed her stare to the shopkeepers with their noses pressed to their storefront windows.
Oh, Edgar was not compelled to release her. Why would a man who managed to chase away every passerby down New Bond Street ever be compelled to do anything?
A single black look from the devil brought blinds slamming and curtains snapping shut.
Edgar picked up precisely where he’d left off—a bullying brute.
“And for what would you risk your life?” Another shake—this one gentle. “Some goddamned frippery?
Andromena favored him with a patronizing smile. “It is more than a bag, my lord.”
He stared at her and waited for her to elucidate. Naturally, she didn’t.
Naturally, the big, proud man hated that even more.
Edgar snatched the precious bag that held her uncle’s even more precious artifact from her and tossed it to the side.
A flash of metal sailed through the air—
No!
Andromena leapt, but Edgar held her back.
London fell away. Even big-shouldered, big-tempered Edgar Hollis, Viscount Kerr, managed to fall away.
For there, the once clear Ditcham of Alexander the Great sailed into the drain.
No. No. No. No!
She cried out. “Let me go this instant!”
He held her tighter.
Andromena planted the toe of her heeled boot into his shin and only hurt herself. Tears smarted behind her lashes.
He released her quickly, no doubt knowing she’d go spiraling back, which she did—and then he caught her for a third time.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she inclined her head. “As much as your concern touches me, my lord, you needn’t be distressed on my behalf.”
“I don’t get distressed.” Not over you.
She didn’t know if his horrid temper put those unspoken words there, or if she felt so small she made them up herself, but they were there regardless.
Andromena dropped her hands on her hips. “If you are so annoyed, then next time don’t come to my aid.”
And she didn’t realize how badly she wanted him to deny she was a burden. How desperately she wanted him to say she could come to him for help should she need it, so then she would have someone to confide in. A man who inspired terror in men of all stations and backgrounds to stand for her against the one determined to hurt her.
But he said nothing.
