She opened the door and peeked inside again. She saw Samuel at a table, playing cards. He had a brandy snifter by his side, stacks of chips in front of him, and cards in his hand. He laughed and made a bet.
Kieran thought of the dagger she wore strapped to her thigh, and was suddenly set with the urge to thrust it between his ribs. Such longings were not unusual, but they were rarely so potent. She could feel his hot blood on her skin, and it sent a shameful, exciting surge to her loins.
Nilo waited for her, thinking she was seeing to her physical needs. Knowing her time was short, Kieran did not linger in the doorway. She opened the door and entered, swept across the room as she had before, as if she were above the rules of decorum.
As Kieran neared Samuel, she steeled herself. Using every ounce of her nerve, she approached him. She could smell his scent, expensive musk and spices. It turned her stomach.
Kieran leaned down and spoke to him through her mask. “Your Grace, my brother has sent me with a message for you.”
Samuel’s gray eyes glittered with interest as he cocked his head up to look at her, his recognition apparent on his unmasked face. “Is that so? Well, give it to me.”
“Come with me, Your Grace. ’Tis a private matter.”
Kieran turned and walked briskly from the room. Behind her, she heard him rise and make his excuses before following. She led the way through the palace until she found a quiet corridor. Nervousness had her in a tight grip, and she forced herself to focus. She needed to make certain that Samuel dropped his business offer, and stayed away from her.
Kieran had her dagger beneath her skirts; she was not the defenseless, naïve girl Samuel had taken advantage of, assaulted, and abused.
Samuel had donned his costume in keeping with Venice’s laws, and approached her wearing a plain white mask, its mouth curved in an eerie grin.
He drew close, his manner far too casual and confident for Kieran’s comfort.
“What is the message?” he asked without preamble.
“The message is mine. Stay away from my family, and abandon this business venture with my brother. I will not tolerate your presence in my life.” Kieran heard her voice tremble, but she kept her chin raised, so he would not read her posture and know her fear.
Samuel considered her words before responding. “And if I do not?”
“I will do whatever I must to ruin my brother’s opinion of you. As you might recall, that shouldn’t present too much trouble for me.”
Her voice was gaining strength, and the chilly tone of it resembled the frigid girl she’d become, the one that caused suitors to name her ice princess when she spurned them.
“This is due to our previous encounter, is it not?” Samuel sighed as if he were deeply troubled. “Please, accept my apologies for my behavior that night. I was quite drunk, and decidedly out of line.”
Behind her mask, Kieran wore the expression of one stunned. “You dare to stand before me and offer an apology? Firstly, there is no forgiveness for what you did, and second, if there were, ’tis three years late.”
“Well, I cannot undo what I’ve done. All I can do is say that I’m sorry for my part in it.”
“You are disgusting,” Kieran hissed. “My brother would kill you if he knew ‘your part.’”
“Kieran, please, I beg you,” he began, using the sort of tone one reserves for squalling babies and agitated horses. “Try to remain calm. For three years I have seen you, at the theater, at balls, and for dinners of mutual acquaintance, and you seem to look right through me, almost as if you did not remember. Why the sudden concern over a business venture that will not involve you?”
Kieran did not speak, for no words could escape the knot in her throat. How could he be so casual about something so horrid?
“I was drunk,” he continued, shrugging his shoulders as if that excused his actions. “What I recalled when I woke, however, had me expecting a visit from your brother or the magistrate the next day, the next week, the next month. I rushed to secure alibis and witnesses. I crafted denials, and I sweated the consequences.” He cocked his head to the side, as if infinitely puzzled. “Nothing happened. You obviously never told Rogan. So I assumed you were not too upset by the matter.”
Kieran found she was too angry to be afraid of him. His grinning mask seemed to mock her and his voice was an echo of her worst nightmare.
“Not upset?” Her voice came louder than her intention, and it echoed from the high ceiling.
“Shhh.” Samuel cast a glance down the corridor and back to the room where his associates gathered. “Someone will hear you.”
“You disgusting, horrid, vile man,” she raged.
Samuel grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her around the corner, and through a set of French doors to the outside. She screeched and struggled and he clamped a hand over her mask. “Hush, you fool. I will not have you causing a scene.”
He dragged her further from the house until they were down by the bank of the canal, where no one was likely to hear them.
“We’ll settle this now,” he said harshly. “Five thousand pounds for you to do as you’ve been doing: holding silent. Now think rationally. This shipbuilding deal is lucrative for me, but also for Rogan. Make no mistake, he wants this—he knows it will make him richer than Midas. I should hope you have enough affection for your brother to not stand in the way of that.”
“Let go of me. How dare you lay your hands on me!” She wanted to reach for her dagger, but he held her so tightly she could not break free.
“Five thousand pounds for your silence,” he repeated, his tone insistent and angry. “You’ve kept it secret all this time. Why change that now, when it will hurt your brother?”
“I don’t want you in my life,” she bit out. “It makes me sick to look at you.”
“I will stay away, I give you my word. I shall take pains to avoid your company.”
“No. I don’t want you near my family. You’ll drop this deal or I will tell Rogan.”
“He won’t believe you,” Samuel said with assurance. “You go and toss out your tawdry slander, and see what comes of it. I’ll make it my mission to paint you as a hysterical spinster whose interest I’ve spurned. Think on it. After all this time, who will believe you? Your brother? I think not. ’Tis been three years. A virtuous woman would have immediately called for her honor to be avenged. How will you explain your years of silence?”
“I could tell the truth,” Kieran said, and she heard the doubt in her own voice. His grip on her arms was not too hard, but it imprisoned her just the same. The sound and smell and touch of him had her once again feeling the victim. It transported her back to that night, and it was every bit as frightening as the first time.
Samuel laughed lightly. “The truth is rather ambiguous, is it not? I say, ’twould be most interesting to see what would happen. My alibi places me well away from London that night, and you will make claims three years late. You’ll certainly seem mad. Perhaps your brother will think you’ve gone daft, or more likely, he’ll think you in need of a husband so you can produce a child or two and relive your hysteria. ’Tis a proven fact, you know, that women of a certain age begin to lose their grip on reality if they remain a spinster.”
When Kieran didn’t respond, Samuel squeezed harder, and gave her a little shake. “What will it be? Five thousand pounds and your silence, or your insane allegations matched to my alibis?”
The pressure on her arms snapped her to reality. A primal shriek of rage tore from her throat and pure bloodlust sang in her veins. She fought him with all she had. He crushed her