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Friday, November 24, 2006

 

The Rake and the Spinster - A Working Title

OK everyone, posting this here... One of my dozen WIP's for your enjoyment or criticism...
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Prologue

Kathryn Andrews took a deep breath as she bowed to the crowd. Another standing ovation, she thought. She was the toast of the London stage, and she knew it. Despite the crowd’s obvious acclaims, she began to panic. He was waiting for her, she was certain. He would demand her services again. He had left her little choice but to accept his proposal.

Exiting the stage, she turned toward the corridor leading toward her dressing rooms. The sooner she left the better. “Miss Andrews,” she heard his sinister voice in the darkness of the curtains. Kathryn stiffened in shock. How dare he show up here!

“What are you doing here?” she managed to hiss. “’Tis most dangerous!”

The man hidden in the shadows laughed menacingly. “I care naught for your safety, Miss Andrews. I care that you uphold your end of our agreement.” Stepping from the heavy velvet curtains, he roughly grabbed her and pulled her body against his. He wrapped his slender fingers around her neck, ruthlessly pulling her chin up to meet his piercing gaze. Whispering in her ear, he said, “I know you do not want a noose around that pretty little neck.” He traced a long finger along the nape of her neck, making her skin crawl.. Kathryn cringed as she stared into his fathomless orbs. Pure evil, she knew. His wicked smile scared her, and the feel of his tongue licking and nibbling along her ear made her stomach turn. What on earth had she gotten herself into?

Kathryn mustered the courage to speak, her voice trembling. “I will uphold our bargain, my lord.”

Satisfied with her answer, the man threw her away from him. “Very well then. Tonight you will kill Dominic Wrothdale.” At Kathryn’s startled gasp, he laughed sardonically. “If you fail me, it will not only be Wrothdale who dies.” In one fluid moment, the man seemed to melt into the shadows of the curtains and was gone. Ashen faced. Kathryn continued on her way down the corridor to the dressing rooms. [i]Dominic? Why Dominic, [/i]she thought. She had really gotten herself into a fine mess, and it looked as if there was no escape this time. What was she to do?

~*~*~

Kathryn paced to and fro nervously in her study. She was certain she would wear a hole into the fine Aubusson rug beneath her feet by the end of the night. He would be most infuriated, she knew. He would kill her. She would not, could not, complete this task. He knew she would get cold feet, she was certain he had planned it as such. He never had any plans of helping her. All she was to him was a pawn in his sick sadistic game. The sooner she fled London, the better.

She sat at the mahogany escritoire, another gift from Dominic. He had said he loved her, but her station demanded she could only be his mistress, never his wife. She had to break off their arrangement. He had taken it better than she thought he would. For that she was glad.

But now he wanted her to woo Dominic again and kill him. Absolutely preposterous, she thought, dipping her quill and scrawling a quick note.

Dearest Dom,
Please accept my humble apologies, but I must leave London for a spell. Your kindness will always be appreciated.
Respectfully yours,
Kat


She quickly sealed the note, her heart beating heavily in her chest. “Jenkins,” she called to her footman. In a matter of a few seconds, Jenkins appeared in her doorway. Handing him the note, she sighed. ”Please deliver this to Lord Wrothdale posthaste.”

Jenkins nodded. “Certainly, Miss Andrews.” He bowed to his mistress and made his leave.

Kathryn hurriedly began tidying up her desk. She could not risk any of the documents being found. Hearing the door click shut, she jumped with a start.

“Tsk, tsk.” Kathryn cringed at the sound of his menacing voice. “You have failed me, Kathryn.”

She scurried to the corner of the room, almost tripping over the large Aubusson rug. She looked for something she could use to defend herself, grabbing a candlestick up off the writing desk. “Please let me be,” she beseeched, holding up the heavy candlestick in front of her.

The man chuckled malignantly, shaking his head. “I think not, Kathryn. You have had enough time.” The vehemence of his words chilled her to the core. There was no negotiating anymore. She shook violently in fear. “Ah... I have the cat cornered.” In one smooth motion, he lunged for her.

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