All Men Are Rogues by Sari Robins

erkek , comert …”
    “Yes, he is manly.”
    “So why do you not go to him for help?”
    Evelyn looked at her beloved servant and observed that her maid’s black hair held more traces of gray than she last recalled. Was she expecting too much of Shah? The woman was not as young as she used to be. Evelyn tried to figure how old Shah might be. She had begun working for the Amhersts when Evelyn was twelve. That was ten years ago. The Turkish woman had not been young even then, but with her dark skin and solid figure, it was hard to tell.
    “I will not let anything happen to us, Shah.”
    “But you need a man. A sahip.”
    Evelyn blew out a long breath and squeezed the older woman’s arm. “We have been over this before, Shah. I do not need a man to take care of me. We’ll be alright.” She heard the quiver in her voice and prayed that her claims were more than whispering protests amidst the howling wind of peril. If anything, Father had taught her that self-reliance was the only saving grace. But then again, where had that led him?

Chapter 11
     
    A s the horses meandered down the lane, slipping into the alleyway behind long rows of fashionable houses, the sun dipped below the rooftops, cloaking them in afternoon shadow.
    “Where are we going, my lord?” Evelyn asked. “We did not pass this way before.”
    “To my stables. I wish to show you something,” Justin replied over his shoulder. His stallion swooshed his tail at a nagging horsefly and increased his pace, nearing home.
    Despite her growing reservations about time running away from her, Evelyn allowed her horse to be led to a small clearing, where she accepted the stable hand’s assistance in dismounting. She straightened her black habit and adjusted the brim of her black hat, waiting while Justin conferred with his stable master. She inhaled a deep breath of air, attempting to cool her trepidation over taking so long to get back to Belfont House.
    She felt vulnerable being out and about while her enemies plotted against her. She kept staring into the shadows, foolishly expecting danger to jump out at her. Her heart leapt when a pigeon swept overhead. Swallowing, she raised her hand to her chest, trying to slow the hammering of her heart. Coolheadedness in the face of adversity kept one alive, Sully had always advised her. She forced herself to calm.
    Luckily they were only a few blocks away from Lord and Lady Fontaine’s residence. She tried to focus on the comforting scents of horse and leather and ignore the sickly sweet odor of the stable hands as they labored proficiently around her. But uneasiness made her shift in her boots. Again, she felt herself in a pool of her own seclusion, wondering just what she was doing at Justin’s stables. The real issue, however, was what she was not doing: finding a way out of the labyrinth of securing her fortune and leaving England for safer shores.
    The ride had been pleasant enough but had not erased the worry that plagued her. She needed to figure the best means of freeing her legacy, but to do so, she had to face the fact that someone was tormenting her and she did not understand why. What had Father been embroiled in that had ended his life so abruptly and placed her future in jeopardy?
    She pulled herself back to the moment as Justin strode toward her and proffered his arm. He looked elegantly handsome in his brown doeskin breeches and shiny black riding boots. Even his coat was cut to enhance his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He was comert , manly, just as Shah had proclaimed.
    Moreover, he was the kindest of gentlemen. She wished she could have met him under better circumstances. She would have liked to enjoy his splendid company without always looking over her shoulder. He deserved better, and so did she.
    They walked along in silence, Ismet trailing behind. The Turk seemed to have worn a constant glower ever since Evelyn had told him about the search of her rooms. He was on edge, and she could not