Ruthless by Anne Stuart Page B

If their mother had had any favorite besides her own dedicated self-interest, it would be herlovely younger daughter. Elinor herself looked too much like her father’s branch of the family, and she had what Lady Caroline considered to be the disconcerting habit of giving her opinion when asked. She hadn’t bothered sugarcoating it for her mother in years, and Lady Caroline hadn’t thanked her.
    â€œVery kind,” Elinor murmured. “But we can handle things from this point.” She couldn’t quite hold the door for him, but she still made her point that he needed to leave, and now.
    His smile tugged at the ugly scar on his otherwise handsome face. “Rohan would expect nothing less from me. Your mother appears to have quieted, but I’m not sure I should take the footmen with me, even though I’m being summarily dismissed.”
    It was a challenge, one Elinor met smoothly. “It’s starting to snow, and it’s a long way back to the château. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you getting caught in a snowdrift.”
    â€œOnly if you pushed me in, Miss Harriman, which you look tempted to do.” He caught Lydia’s small hand in his and gave her an extravagant kiss. There was no missing the look in her sister’s eyes, though Elinor hoped and prayed Reading wasn’t alert enough to read it.
    â€œLet me just check on our mother,” Elinor said. “I would expect from the blissful silence emanating from the bedroom that she’s well settled and we have no more need of your so-generous assistance.”
    She turned, trying not to shiver in the cool morning air. There wasn’t much of a fire in the grate, and shehad no idea where they’d get more wood. But first things first, and getting rid of the man standing far too close to her baby sister was utmost. She had no choice but to leave them together long enough for her to see to Lady Caroline, but then she could shoo him out quite handily.
    Two of Rohan’s liveried footmen stood in the hallway, almost on guard, and at Elinor’s approach they moved out of the way, bowing. She pushed open the door to see Nanny sitting beside her mother.
    Lady Caroline lay still in the narrow bed, with only the fitful light of the winter morning to pierce the darkness. “She hasn’t moved since they brought her back, poor thing,” Nanny said. “I washed her and tried to make her more comfortable and told the gentleman that he can safely leave. Your poor mother probably won’t be up for days.” She looked back at her charge. “If ever.”
    Elinor looked down at her mother. Her skin was bluish, with deep circles around her eyes, but for the moment she was at peace. “Has she taken any food?”
    Nanny Maude knew better than she did just how little food there was in their larder. “Some weak tea. And a bit of gruel. She spat out more than she took in.”
    And they couldn’t afford to waste what little they had. “I’ll send Lydia in while I get rid of our visitors,” Elinor said.
    â€œWhat are you going to do, Miss Nell?” Nanny said plaintively. “I’ve sent Jacobs out to see what he can find, but there’s nothing left for me to make a dinnerout of. No wood for the fire unless we take this bed apart.”
    Elinor wanted to put her hands to her face and scream, but her calm expression showed none of it. It was up to her to see to things, and even if she hadn’t the vaguest idea what she was going to do, she didn’t need to share that.
    She couldn’t even sell her body on the streets for money. Paris was filled with beautiful whores—she’d barely make enough to keep them fed. If that.
    Jacobs could sell the boots and the silk stockings. She’d been a proud fool to have left the fur pelisse behind—that could have supported them for weeks if they were careful.
    She was going to have to go back and meet