Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

nothing to fight him or prevent the sensations he induced in her.
    To her horror Evangeline began to pant. His lordship’s hand worked faster, moving in a delicious circle, applying pressure and increasing 18
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    it in regular increments until a sudden soaring pleasure shot through Evangeline’s cunt and up her belly, swirling until she was dizzy and culminating in a burst of satisfaction that left her limbs shaking and her mind in a whirl of confusion. For several moments she gasped for air as the quivering in her thighs slowed.
    “Make certain you do the same for me.” He withdrew his hand and moved to the opposite seat, leaving her struggling to make herself decent once more.
    Anger mingled quite suddenly with her fear, making her bold.
    “My parents may have been poor, but their name remained unblemished by scandal all their lives, as I have kept it since. You, Lord Ravenscroft, are the last person to talk about such things.” The moment the words were out she doubted her judgment.
    “Me!” His voice, while retaining its low, breathy quality, filled the carriage. “What do you mean by that?”
    Knowing she was making a grave mistake, she continued, her voice rising as she spoke. “Only that your reputation precedes you, sir. Murder and mayhem are associated with the name of Ravenscroft.
    It has been said you are a man of vile tastes and a sadistic nature.
    People say the Ravenscrofts are werewolves and vampires and that both your parents were mad.”
    Evangeline felt his anger rise up and loom over her like a specter.
    Had he suddenly raged she could have borne it better than this menacing silence. “It’s true, sir.” She found her voice weakening.
    “You must know of your reputation yourself.”
    A long, heavy breath escaped him. At last she whispered, “My lord?” When no response came she reached out a hand to feel if he was still present and touched the cool, heavy silk of his shirt. She snatched back her hand only to have her wrist grasped painfully. She pulled, but it was no use, he was immensely strong.
    “Yes, my dear Miss Rutledge, I know of the Ravenscroft reputation. Perhaps you would like me to deny it. I will not. What do you have to say to that?”

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    “That I want nothing to do with you, my lord.”
    “Listen to me closely. You will pack your belongings, get into this carriage, and arrive in Yorkshire as soon as may be. If I have any trouble at all from you, you will regret your actions.”
    He released her and this time did not prevent her from scrambling out into the street.
    The house, which Evangeline had come to despise and wish to escape from over the last few years, appeared suddenly as a refuge of safety as she ran up the steps, through the open front door, and into the narrow entrance hall. Mrs. Brackett walked down the stairs in front of Hodder, who lugged a trunk on his shoulder.
    “He was there,” she burst out, coming to a breathless halt in front of them, her bun tumbling from its fastenings, a smear of blood on her lips.
    Mrs. Bracket ran to her. “What’s happened, Miss Evie? Were you accosted outside?”
    “He was in the carriage,” Evangeline managed to say between breaths. “The Raven.”
    Being far from a fit man, the driver put down the trunk with obvious relief. “Now what’s all this, Miss Rutledge?” His tone was more of a concerned uncle than a servant.
    Calming down now she was in the house with the lamps lit and a warm glow coming from the kitchen, Evangeline explained, “I stepped inside the carriage and he was in there, sitting in the dark.
    Lord Ravenscroft was in the carriage.”
    “No, Miss,” Hodder said simply. “When I left Yorkshire this morning just before dawn the master spoke to me. He called me to the Great Hall to give me instructions. He was sitting very leisurely like, having a glass of wine. Likes red wine, he does, the master, all hours of the day. He was not dressed for going out. He was sitting in front of the empty hearth like he’d been there all night and knowing him he probably had. He’s never slept well, Lord Ravenscroft, and he certainly never got in that carriage.”

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    “He must have followed you on horseback,” Evangeline said.
    “No, Miss, he’d have to have traveled as the crow flies to beat me here.” He chuckled. “Or the raven.”
    “Very amusing,” Evangeline snapped. “He was in that carriage.
    He was!”
    “He couldn’t have been,” Hodder