Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

T he very last thing she wanted was for that brute to discover her presence. If he saw her again, there was no telling what he might scheme.

Joana's knees weakened as the voice of her nightmares took human form in Lord Julian , ten paces away and actively engaged in a lively discussion. He stood there wholly and utterly unbothered while her heart beat in her throat from the memory of the scandal.

Her life had been ripped asunder by his unwelcome advances and his stubbornness to accept the simple denial of her consent.

His life, however, had not changed.

Julian was able to go on as if nothing had happened. He had not been forced to uproot his entire life and everything that he had known. Rage, fear, and something that she could not quite name all roiled inside of her as she hastily retreated to the nearest alcove – it did not matter where it was or where the first door that she found led her.

Her vision narrowed as the very walls surrounding her began to suddenly close in. Her stays were too tight. The layers of her dress were suddenly too heavy. Her gloves were uncomfortably snug, numbing her hands to the touch – she struggled to even breathe.

The door practically slammed behind her as her body fell heavily back against it with a gasp of relief, her eyes scrunched shut tightly. She pursed her lips, attempting to calm herself to little avail. She clasped her trembling hands, willing them to be still and steady, with the force of holding herself together so that she might—

"Occupied." A man's voice cut through her thoughts with an abundance of irritation to have been intruded upon. Joana suddenly regained herself, catching sight of the stranger. Had she been in better control of her faculties, she would have likely squealed and fled from the room with as much haste as she entered it.

But, that would likely mean crashing into the brute known as Lord Julian…

Joana swallowed painfully and fought to steady herself. She tried to speak but her voice left her.

The man's brow arched in curiosity. He exhaled, and then after a brief moment, spoke again. "Pray, are you well, Miss?"

It was clear he was merely speaking out of politeness; his tone lacked sympathy, but his hazel eyes bore deep into her gaze, making her skin shiver.

With a casual sweep of his hand, he pushed his chestnut locks away from his face, affording her a more intimate view of his features. And her gaze fell to his each minute detail—the warm, sun-kissed hue of his skin, the tantalizing softness of his pursed lips, the way his head tilted to the side as if to study her, and the manner in which the sleeves of his shirt were inappropriately rolled up, revealing heart-quickening hints of his muscular arms. The panic inside her did not subside, but something about his presence reminded her more of a novel hero rather than any…real person. He was incredibly handsome and held an enticing charm about him that left no room for doubt.

"…My Lady, perhaps?"

His velvety voice stirred her from her thoughts and her eyes snapped to him. Despite his nonchalant and rather scandalous appearance, she didn't quiver, nor did she feel the urge to run away. The strange man didn't take another step closer, but his eyes traveled up and down her form as if admiring her, and she gulped audibly in hopes of controlling her nerves.

With great effort, she composed herself. She pushed down her true feelings and took the chance to adopt the mask of a prim and proper Lady of society. A Lady she once was.

"Y-yes," Joana stammered foolishly before catching herself. She smoothed her hands down the skirts of her gown, eager to escape the conversation amicably. She had made a mistake. That was all. She would not slip up like that again. "I am quite well. I did not mean to intrude upon you, well, whatever it is that you are doing. I should take my leave…"

As she focused properly, it appeared that he was standing alone in this room, presumably content in keeping his own company, but she couldn't be sure.

"You claim so, yet you appear to be on the verge of swooning," he paused, an intimate concern etched in his sharp features. Joana, at the sound of passing footsteps from outside, stiffened and looked back at once, afraid Julian would enter the room. The man didn't seem to miss her reaction. "Hmm. Curious. Am I correct in my assumption that you are hiding from something, or rather, someone?"

Joana remained silent. But realizing he wouldn't be satisfied without a response, she nodded ever so slightly.

" Then you have certainly presented me with a mystery to solve. "

"…You give me far too much credit, My Lord," she replied, her voice low. She was not sure what he meant. The cold, detached way that he spoke provided her without any further understanding.

"Indeed?" he asked dryly, reaching closer. Joana held her breath, her back touching against the door. "Dare I ask who you are so intent on hiding from? And why?"

Joana couldn't remain blind to the fact that he was a possible Rake. The way he studied her body, the way his warm voice gradually took on a flirtatious note, the way he was dressed… Everything about it pointed at the fact. And his effect on her did not help things, only encouraging his seduction.

A pang of guilt seized her. She shouldn't be feeling this way. She was supposed to want to quiver away at the sight of a strange man, she was supposed to tell him to stop his advances. But when he finally stood before her, his towering frame looming gracefully over hers, she felt anything but fear.

"Please, just allow me a moment here to catch my breath and then I shall be on my way," Joana almost pleaded, her voice a breathless whisper.

"Of course. Perhaps you can offer me your name in the meanwhile? Or the name of whoever you are hiding from?" The man gracefully folded his hands behind his back. The move only served as a comforting one, reassuring her that the gentleman before her shared no likeness to Lord Julian. And meant no harm. It was a dangerous feeling. "What if I promise that I can help you in the matter?" he whispered mischievously.

"That is a very dangerous thing to promise, My Lord, as it could be any number of nefarious things that I require assistance with," Joana whispered back matter-of-factly. She could feel the panic lessening from her chest with every word spoken between them.

"Ah, that is precisely what I was hoping for." His hand came to rest on the carved oak door behind her, effectively imprisoning her within his embrace. She was unable to tear her eyes away from his chest, captivated by the sight of one undone button on his linen shirt, which unveiled a tantalizing glimpse of his chest hair and the graceful contractions of his muscles in his every breath. "Since I have returned to town, I find my days quite humdrum… nefarious sounds exciting . Don't you agree?"

Joana was unable to speak with him standing so close to her. She could not string words together, the taste of his hazelwood fragrance overwhelming her tongue.

"In the event our paths cross once more, perhaps you can promise me that you will give me a clue to your mystery?"

The eye contact that the man effortlessly maintained was both thrilling and intimidating all the same. He was standing so close to her, it was clear he knew what he was doing.

Or, perhaps he was merely aware of how his proximity to her made heat flush under her skin in a way that she could not explain. Before she could further relish his closeness, he abruptly withdrew. A coldness spread through her, but she recovered rather quickly.

"I shall take your silence for agreement to my terms, mysterious lady," he grinned. "But will you let me leave, or do your nefarious schemes involve me too? The proceedings are about to begin and I can hardly be late again, but I think I could make an exception," he whispered mischievously.

Joana realized then that she was still blocking the door and awkwardly shuffled away from it.

"Shame," the man smirked. His hand reached for the door and he brushed past her, as his gaze, warm and intoxicating, lingered on Joana for a breath too long, before he sauntered from the room entirely. Only to poke his head back in a moment later. "Might I at least inquire as to your name?"

Joana shook her head demurely. If he desired her to be a mystery - so be it. At least then, her ruined reputation would not be able to precede her. He was the first man in months to speak to her without looking at her as if she was a pariah. Perhaps that was why she felt a little more comfortable in his presence.

She ought to have asked him his name in return, but she was mute. As the door shut gently behind his retreating figure, a strange emotion kindled within her, spreading a pleasant warmth throughout her being. Perhaps today would not be a waste after all.

"Ah! Denver! Pleasure to see your face!"

Joana's breath suddenly hitched. Chills ran down her spine as she heard the mysterious man address her greatest enemy so cordially. For, Lord Julian was Earl of Denver. Curiosity compelled her to steal a glimpse from around the corner of the door, and she found the mysterious man with his arm around Lord Julian's shoulder, chuckling about something…

She should have known it was all too good to be true.