“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” Gerard asked.

She halted. “What do you mean?”

“Francesca came to me early this afternoon, in a panic because this very necklace had gone missing,” Gerard lied smoothly. Francesca had told him no such thing. In fact, she’d sought him out, distracted and harried, and returned the necklace to him with apologies for being unable to accept his gift. He’d followed and watched her unobserved afterward, and saw her leave Belford Hall with a suitcase, her manner furtive as she got into a cab. “She was beside herself,” he continued his story to Clarisse. “I told her not to worry—the necklace is insured, after all—and assured her that I would find it. And so I did.”

Clarisse’s mouth fell open. Her blue eyes grew wide in shock. “Wait . . . you can’t mean you think I took it?”

“I found the necklace in your bedside table. You’ve been a very bad little maid, Clarisse,” he purred.

For a few seconds, she just stared. She moved jerkily, suddenly lunging for the couch but stumbling. She caught herself on the arm of the sofa and fell into it.

“I never took that necklace!”

“I found it here,” Gerard said simply, standing and walking toward her. He looked down at her, smiling.

“If you found it here, then you put it there,” she muttered in rising disbelief.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I put a necklace that I already own in your apartment?” Her pink lips opened and shut several times as she stared at him in bewilderment. He was enjoying seeing her helpless. The trap had snapped shut with her securely in it. She would do whatever he said now. “Didn’t Francesca tell you that I gave her this necklace for Christmas?” he continued. “She told me she planned to return it, though. We both know how obsessed she is with Ian. She must have felt guilty about receiving such an expensive piece of jewelry from another man. Misplaced loyalty. Even now, she’s on a plane flying to confront the love of her life for having abandoned her once again.” He shook his head sadly. “Those two are a keg of gunpowder set to explode, if you ask me.”

Clarisse’s wide eyes grew even larger. “Please don’t do this. Don’t tell Francesca I took that necklace. I need this job.”

“I know,” Gerard said earnestly. He nodded to several framed photos of her family set on the mantel. “You have a younger brother that’s quite ill, isn’t that true? Cystic fibrosis. Such a shame.”

“How do you know about Scott?” she asked incredulously.

“I know all about you,” Gerard assured, his voice rich with compassion. “Including the fact that you’ve been arrested before for stealing.”

Every ounce of color drained from her face. “I was only sixteen when that happened. My friends dared me to steal some clothes from a shop, and I was stupid enough to do it.”

He nodded. “A very expensive shop, no less. It seems you have a liking for luxurious things you can’t afford,” he said, rolling the sparkling choker over his fingers thoughtfully. “And you failed to mention that crime in your application as a maid at Belford, didn’t you? Even though the question was asked, you lied.”

“I was sixteen years old!” she repeated, her voice shaking. Tears filled her eyes. “Please don’t tell Francesca I stole from her. I never took anything from her. I wouldn’t.”

“Shhh,” Gerard soothed, taking her hands and lifting her from the couch. He palmed her jaw and caressed her cheek with his thumb, drying a few spilled tears. “I won’t. There’s nothing to worry about. No real harm has been done.”

“You mean . . . you mean you’re not going to tell Lady Anne or the police?”

“No, of course not,” he said softly, stroking her. He was becoming aroused, feeling her young, supple body plastered against him . . . seeing how vulnerable she was. “As long as you do whatever I say.”

She blinked, wariness freezing her expression. She started to back away, but he pulled her tighter against him, trapping her with his arms.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “What do I have to do?”

“If you don’t want to be arrested for stealing a valuable piece of jewelry from a guest at Belford Hall, then anything I say.”

“Like what?’ she asked, horror creeping in to her delicate features.

“Don’t look so alarmed,” he laughed. “Hardly nothing.” He made a mock-impatient sound when she continued to stare at him in rising fear. “All right, if you want some examples. I’m leaving Belford tonight, and I’d like it very much, if the occasion should ever arise,” he said kindly, loosening his hold on her by degrees when she didn’t attempt to flee. “If you said I was here with you all night, letting me fuck you just as you have been for the past week. That won’t be too difficult, will it? And well worth it, to cover what you did.”

“I never did anything!” she said, anger and helplessness straining her voice.

“Oh, but you did. Because I said you did. Who do you think people are going to be more likely to listen to, a maid with a history of theft, or the future Earl of Stratham?”

He pressed his thumb to her trembling lower lip and rubbed it. Her nostrils flared, but this time, she didn’t try to back away. She knew she was caught, he thought. He shifted his growing erection against her belly.

“And as far as other things you might have to do for me to assure my silence, it won’t involve anything you haven’t been doing for me already. It hardly seemed like a trial for you to see to my needs previously. Why should it matter if you have to continue to do so whenever I request it? Like now, for instance. I have a small amount of time before I have to leave—a quarter of an hour or so—and I’d like to spend it pleasantly. Wouldn’t you?” he asked, now palming both sides of her delicate face. Her trembling seemed to grow more violent. She refused to take part when he began to kiss her coaxingly, but he continued, undaunted.




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