Page 111 of In the Prince's Bed

Burned coffee?

His head shot up. Emson was coming through the door with a tray bearing what Mrs. Brown probably considered to be a decent breakfast.

At least poison would put him out of his misery.

“Mrs. Brown knows you do not like her coffee, but she says it will give you strength, and I agree. You should eat something, my lord. You ate no dinner last night. If you still plan to return to London today, you shall need nourishment.”

To beg creditors for more time, arrange for loans…begin courting another heiress. The thought churned his stomach, yet it was either that or give up Edenmore entirely.

Or get Katherine back.

No, after her parting words, that was impossible. Until then, he’d been sure he could eventually talk her round to seeing why he’d done what he did, to understanding that he really cared about her.

But if she believed he could be so callous as to spread nasty rumors about her chastity or sue her for breach of promise, she was right—she didn’t know him at all. He’d be damned if he’d go begging her to take him back when she thought so ill of him.

She had reason to be upset, but he’d had a perfectly legitimate reason for what he did, too. Why couldn’t she see that?

Emson put the tray on his writing table where he liked it, then brought his coffee to him. As Alec sipped the nasty brew, Emson drew a book out of his pocket. “I found this in your great coat, my lord. I thought you might want it.”

Frowning, Alec took it from him.The Rake’s Rhetorick.He’d forgotten all about that blasted book.

As Emson went to lay out his clothes, Alec thumbed through the chapbook, his temper flaring as he skimmed lines here and there. No wonder she thought ill of him. How could she trust any man after she’d read all this nonsense?

Never tell a woman the truth about what you want, not if you plan to get it.

He winced. All right, but he’d been justified in keeping the truth from her. He wasn’t some rakehell bent on pleasure, blast it, doing whatever he must to gain the use of a woman’s body.

No, just the use of a woman’s fortune.

Damn his blathering conscience—what he’d done wasn’t the same.

Lifting his coffee cup to his lips, he turned a page, started…and poured hot coffee down the front of his bare chest.

“God rot it all!” he swore as he thrust the cup onto his bedside table and swabbed coffee off himself with the coverlet.

Emson came running. “Good heavens, are you all right, my lord?” He whipped out a handkerchief the size of Ireland and began blotting Alec’s chest.

Alec shoved his hand away. “It’s fine, Emson. I merely…er…”

Too late. Emson was now staring at the book that still lay open to a picture of a man and a woman doing exactly what Alec and Katherine had done last night. Only these people were in a more…creative position, and the man was leering as he thrust into the woman with breasts like grapefruits.

“Good to see you indulging in light reading for a change,” Emson remarked dryly.

Scowling, Alec shut the book with a snap. “It’s not mine. I acquired it by accident.”

“Of course, my lord,” Emson said smoothly as he stuffed his coffee-soaked handkerchief back into his pocket. Then he delicately removed the book and placed it into the drawer of the bedside table. “All the same, perhaps we should spare the maids and Mrs. Brown any chance of exposure.”

Impudent devil. “Thank you, Emson.” Katherine had said theRhetorickhad pictures, but my God—No wonder the woman had known what to expect of him that day he’d made love to her in the orangery.

The thought of her finding this book in her father’s effects and realizing what that said about the man’s habits unnerved Alec. Could he blame her for being suspicious of men? Especially one who admitted to wanting her fortune.

“Will you have some breakfast now, my lord?” Emson asked.

“I suppose.” Though he didn’t know if he’d ever have an appetite again. Except for a certain winsome, fiery-haired miss—

No, she was gone. He had to get that through his thick skull.

Despair weighting him, he left the bed to walk over to his writing table and stare at the breakfast tray. It contained an apple, two boiled eggs, and a slice of what looked suspiciously like real bread rather than sawdust formed into bricks.