Page 52 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

With a gasp, Letty fumbled for the door latch behind her as the couple broke apart. She opened the door and was about to dart out into the corridor when the man demanded she stop.

Letty froze.

Pierse rose naked from the bed and stalked to his clothes, pulling on his breeches. “Mon Dieu! You said she was asleep, Arietta!”

“I thought she was.” Arietta reached for her dressing gown.

“I am dreadfully sorry.” Letty’s heart beat in her throat, her face burning. She wanted to look away from him, but couldn’t. The Frenchman stood before her, bare-chested, his hands on his hips. “I thought Arietta was in trouble,” she managed to croak out.

“This complicates matters, Arietta,” he said coolly.

Tying her belt, Arietta scuttled over to Letty. She placed an arm around her shoulders. “It doesn’t need to, Pierse. Letitia is my friend and confidante.” Her bright blue eyes both implored and warned, sending a shaft of cold fear through Letty. “She would never say a word to hurt me, would you, my pet?”

Before Letty could affirm or deny this, the man stalked over to them. He took hold of Letty’s arm and shoved her roughly into a chair. “A silly young debutante.” He gazed at Letty dismissively. “She will spill it all as soon as someone says boo to her.”

Letty opened her mouth to refute it, but closed it again, as a wave of terror rushed through her. The man, his mouth a thin line, his eyes as cold and hard as stone, had curled his hands into fists, and she feared he would hurt her.

Arietta pushed her way in between them. “Darling, I tell you she won’t. Letitia is wise beyond her years. Has she not done a marvelous job of spying for us?”

He shook his head. “We’ll have to deal with her.”

Arietta burst into tears.

He paused. “It has grown too hot for me in London, mon amour. I’m leaving by boat at the first morning tide. They will throw you in Newgate if you stay. Come with me!”

Arietta wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. “You promise not to hurt her. Pierse?”

With a trail of French curses, he stalked to the window and pulled down the silken cords. “Pack your valise while I tie her up.”

Arietta dressed and then flew around selecting items to pack while Pierse secured Letty to the chair with sharp hurtful tugs at her wrist and ankles.

“Go outside,” Pierse ordered Arietta, when she had done up her valise. “Wait for me in the rear lane while I dress.”

Arietta eyed him fearfully, but she finally left the room, leaving Letty chilled and afraid for her life.

Pierse strolled over to where he had thrown the rest of his clothes in a jumble on the chair. His expressionless black eyes on Letty, he dressed.

After he’d donned his shoes, he still studied her meditatively, then stood and pulled a knife from his pocket.

Letty’s blood froze. “I’ll scream the house down if you come anywhere near me.”

He took a step closer. “One peep out of you and I’ll cut your throat.”

Arietta ran into the room. “No Pierse!” She rushed at him, and in her haste, stumbled against him.

She crumpled to the floor with a moan.

With an inhuman growl, Pierse fell to his knees beside Arietta’s still form, the knife lodged in her chest. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the carpet. Shocked, Letty’s throat closed over. With a strangled gasp, she struggled against her bonds.

Noise erupted downstairs. It sounded as if a hundred people stampeded into the house. Pierse straightened. He shoved Letty’s chair out of the way, made a dash for the door, and was gone.

It was clear that Arietta was dead. Tears flooded down Letty’s cheeks. She sagged against the chair, fighting for breath. Would he change his mind and come back to kill her? Footsteps

ran along the corridor.

Brandon rushed inside. “Good God! Letty!” He knelt beside Arietta’s limp form, then sadly shook his head. “Are you hurt?”

“No! Hurry! Pierse will have gone down the servant’s stairs.”

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