An Unexpected Gentleman Part 17

The words he wanted to give her caught in his throat. Head never said them to another soul. Not to his parents, whoad practiced moderation in all things, including the sentimental, and not to his men, who would be no less mortified to hear them than he would be to speak them.

aI . . .a The hand at his side clenched as he struggled. aI . . . I donat want it as much as I thought . . . I donat need it . . . I need you.a That wasnat what he wanted to say. It was less than she deserved, and so he slipped his arms around her and bent his head to take her mouth. It was easier this way, to show her what he felt rather than speak the words. It had been easier from the start. How effortless it had been to allow a kiss, a trip to England, a plot of tilled land to speak for him.

What a simple thing it was now, to share the contents of his heart in the context of their lovemaking. Every brush of lips and tender caress was designed to please Adelaide. Nothing was withheld from her. There wasnat a thing she could demand that he wouldnat want to give. Everything she desired, everything she asked of him, he could grant without reservation. Without fear of failure.

He could see the desire grow in her eyes as he undressed her in slow stages, pausing to taste every inch of bared skin. He heard the sound of her pleasure when he took his time in the places he knew she liked best. He could feel the heat of her need after he had tormented them both beyond endurance and, at last, slipped inside her.

And when she found her release in his arms, he knew head made her happy.

He prayed that, for now, it would be enough.

Chapter 29.

The following day brought an uncommonly strong wind that swept away the fog. To Adelaide, the garden was no longer a gloomy maze but the reckless wilderness she had come to love. As she moved along one of the paths, she wondered if she could coax Connor into leaving a part of it just as it was now.

Probably she should have thought to make the request yesterday afternoon . . . or last night . . . or this morning. There had been no end of promises made in the last twenty-four hours. Pledges whispered by the glow of firelight, confessions made in the soft light of dawn.

Connor had teased and tormented, thrilled and delighted until shead agreed to his every demand. Shead never leave him. She would always love him. And in return, head promised to always take care of her, always listen, always be available.

He hadnat promised her love, but it seemed a reasonable expectation. One she decided to hope for, but not to press him into meeting. Head accepted her love, and in return, head given her . . . I need you. That was enough for now.

Smiling, she turned down a path that led to the house. Connor should be finishing up his correspondence by now, she thought. And, if not, shead convince him to set it aside. Graham had taken Isobel and George into Banfries. And Gregory and Michael had left the day before fora"as they had put ita"a round of carousing, and had yet to return. She wanted to take advantage of the relative privacy while they had the chance.

But it would have to wait a minute more, she realized when she spotted the gardeneras cottage through a clearing. Someone had left the door open. Renovations on the small stone building had only just been completed. Broken windows had been replaced and crumbling mortar repaired. The interior was given a good scrubbing and fresh coat of paint. The head gardener was beside himself with excitement at the prospect of moving out of the servantsa quarters and into his tidy little cottage.

Head not find it tidy for long if people went about leaving the door wide open on bl.u.s.tery days.

Changing her direction once again, she hurried toward the cottage, turned a corner in the path around a hedge, and ran headfirst into Connor.

His low laugh floated over the wind as his hands came up to steady her. aEasy, sweetheart.a Grinning, she stretched up to kiss his cheek. The faint scratch of stubble tickled her lip. aI thought to come and find you in a minute.a aNow is better.a His hands slid down her arms, and he took one of her hands, twining their fingers together. aWalk with me.a Anywhere, she thought. aConnor?a His thumb brushed gently over her skin as he started them forward on the path. aHmm?a aI was wondering, must all the garden be landscaped?a He frowned thoughtfully. aArenat gardens landscaped by definition?a aI suppose,a she conceded. aBut wouldnat it be nice to leave a piece of it as it is now? Just as we found it?a aWeall leave the whole of it alone, if thatas what you want.a aNo, Ashbury should havea"Oh, look!a She released his hand and rushed ahead of him toward a patch of bluebells that were thriving amongst a tangle of weeks outside the gardeneras cottage. aThis is why we should let part of the garden be as it is,a she called over her shoulder. aThere are treasures in here.a Delighted, she bent down for a closer look. They werenat in bloom, but come next springa"

A flash of movement in the cottage caught her eye, and she straightened, expecting to see a maid with cleaning supplies. But it was Sir Robert who stepped through the open door, a pleasant smile on his face and pistol in his hand.

aAfternoon, Mrs. Brice.a Later, Adelaide would be unable to recall her immediate reaction to the sight with any clarity, but what she could remember would make her blush with embarra.s.sment. She gave a small cry of alarm, and then she went perfectly still, the thick and icy grip of fear freezing her helplessly and uselessly in place.

A gun. He had a gun.

aAdelaide, back away.a Connoras calm and steady voice cracked the ice.

She risked a glance over her shoulder and realized with a sinking heart that he was a good ten yards behind her.

Sir Robert shook his head. aShe stays where she is. Or better yet . . .a His smile grew into a chilling grin. He transferred his aim from Connor to Adelaide. aCome here.a Connoras voice snapped like a whip. aNo.a Adelaide was in full agreement. There was no telling what Sir Robert would do if he had hold of her, but kidnapping seemed a very real possibility. She shook her head at Sir Robert. Shead rather be shot in her own garden than dragged off someplace else and shot there.

Smile faltering, Sir Robert swung the weapon back on Connor. aCome here, or Iall blow a hole through his gut.a Oh, G.o.d. Oh, G.o.d. He meant it. She took a hesitant step. Shead rather be dragged off someplace else than see Connor shot in the garden.

Connor moved forward. aAdelaide, no.a aAh, ah, ah.a Sir Robert waved the gun. aYou move, she dies. She doesnat move, you die. Are we clear?a Adelaide moved forward, keeping her eyes trained on the gun. Sir Robert grabbed her arm and yanked her forward the last few feet. For one brief second, she thought she might have been in a position to reach for his weapon, but the opportunity was gone almost before shead recognized it. Sir Robert spun her around, splayed his fingers on her waist, and rubbed his thumb back and forth in a revolting mockery of a caress. aTold you Iad have her eventually.a The taunt was for Connor. Somehow, that infuriated her more than the indignity of Sir Robertas touch. Shead not miss the next chance to try for the gun, she thought with dark determination. Shead not miss the chance to shoot him.

There was no visible reaction from Connor. His voice was low and eerily calm. aLet her go, Robert. This is between you and me. She has nothing to do with it.a aNeither does this gun. All the same, I believe Iall keep both for the time being.a aWhat do you want?a aOh, all manner of things,a Sir Robert replied cheerfully.

aOur feud is over. Leta"a aOh, is it?a Sir Robertas voice became needling. aBecause you say so? Because youave had your fun destroying whatas mine, and now you want to be done beforea"?a aI havenat destroyed you. But I will. Harm a single hair on her head and Ialla"a aWhat?a Sir Connor snapped. aWhat will you do? Youave ruined my name. Stolen my life.a He pitched his voice higher when Connor shook his head. aDonat deny it. Donat you dare deny it. I know it was you behind the sham investments. And you who sent those letters.a aWhat letters?a aWhat . . . What letters? Dozens of them! b.l.o.o.d.y hundreds!a Sir Robertas chest rose and fell against her back like an overworked pair of bellows. aA mob formed outside my door. I had to crawl out a window. A window, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I barely escaped Edinburgh with my skin. I can never show my face in society again. Every husband, father, and brother in Britain wants a piece of my hide. I canat go home, and now I havenat the funds to go anywhere else. So tell me, please, what worse could you do?a Adelaideas mind whirled. Head learned of the fictional investments. But husbands and fathers? The forged letters Connor had told her about? It couldnat be true. Connor had burned those. Head burned everything. Shead watched him. With a bone-chilling wash of dread, she realized it didnat matter what shead seen, what she knew. Someone had sent letters, and Sir Robert would never accept a denial of guilt from Connor.

Connor obviously reached the same conclusion. aIall give you the funds toa"a Sir Robertas arm tightened around her waist. aOh, youall give me more than that.a aIave two hundred pounds in my pocket. Let Adelaide go and you can have it. Iall see you make it safely out of the country. Anywhere you want to go.a Sir Robert fell silent, and Adelaide held her breath. Maybe he would take the offer. Maybe he was considering the wisdom of retreat. Maybea"

aWho the devil keeps two hundred pounds in his pocket?a Sir Robertas voice was a strange mix of bafflement, amus.e.m.e.nt, and disdain. aIdiot mongrel.a aTake the money,a Connor pressed.

Sir Robert snorted. aLive off your largesse? My every move subject to your will? Even if I were fool enough to take you at your word, Iad not debase myself with your brand of charity. Iad rather hang for a murderer. At least Iall have the pleasure of watching the grief in your eyes as I swing.a aYou wonat hang,a Connor said. aYour t.i.tle will see to that. Youall spend the rest of your life in prison or a madhouse.a The gun swung toward Connor. aThen we finish this now.a Adelaide jerked in her captoras arms. aTake me with you!a aAdelaide, donat be a fool,a Connor snapped.

She ignored him. She had no intention of being foolish. She had no intention of going with Sir Robert, if she could help it. But she had to buy them time.

aHeall do anything you say,a she rushed on. aGive you anything you want if you have me. Heall be completely under your power. Not for a few minutes, but as long as you like. You donat have to be locked away, and you donat have to take his charity. Heall pay any price you name.a aHeall hunt me down.a Connoras face was murderous. aIall slaughter you, youa"a aIs he smarter than you, then?a Adelaide goaded. aFaster, strongera"?a The gun nudged to her temple. aShut up!a She squeezed her eyes shut. aThink. What would be worse for him, my quick death or a lifetime of wondering?a She prayed that he would take the bait. And failing that, that her death would be quick and painless and, most important, give Connor the opportunity to rush Sir Robert, or hurl a rock, or dive for cover. Something, anything that would save him.

aThereas twine in the cottage,a Sir Robert said suddenly.

Adelaideas eyes flew open, and she heard the harsh release of her own breath. Shead done it. Shead bought them more time.

Sir Robert jerked his head at Connor and began to edge them both away from the door. aFetch it. But keep your distance.a Slowly, cautiously, Sir Robert moved them in a wide arc until their position and Connoras were reversed. Connor disappeared inside the cottage and reappeared a minute later with a ball of twine in hand.

aToss it here and back away,a Sir Robert instructed.

Connor lobbed it underhanded. It hit the ground with a soft thud, rolled, and stopped a few feet in front of her. He took two steps back then, but he was a little closer now, five yards away instead of ten. It wasnat much, but it was something. She prayed it would be enough.

Sir Robertas arm slipped from her waist. He pulled the gun from her temple and used it to gesture at the twine.

aPick it up.a It was the chance shead been waiting for. Without hesitating, she shifted her weight, shoved away the arm holding the gun, and rammed her shoulder into Sir Robertas midsection as hard as she could. She heard his grunt and felt him stumbling away from her. The gun went off, and the sound was deafening, like a physical blow. Adelaide staggered back as Connor rushed by her in a blur. He plowed into Sir Robert at full speed, hurling them both into the ground.

Sir Robert struggled to get out from under Connoras weight. He swung the gun up, but Connor caught his wrist and gave it a brutal twist. Sir Robertas mouth opened in a shout a second before Connor wrenched the gun away and brought it crashing down on the manas skull.

While Connor made swift work of tying the unconscious baron with the twine, Adelaide stood where she was, trembling from head to toe. There was a high-pitched whine in her ears, and the acrid smell of burned powder hung in the air. She barely noticed either. Her attention focused on Connor. He was alive. He was safe. And he was shouting something at her.

aAre you hurt?! Adelaide, are you hurt?!a She shook her head. aNo, Iam not hurt.a But for some reason, her hand crept to her side, just above her hip. She felt something thick and warm against her fingers. Dazed, she looked down and saw red bloom through a tear in the lavender silk of her gown. A mist formed over her vision, her knees gave out, and suddenly she was seated on the ground.

aI donat feel it,a she heard herself say. aShouldnat I feel it?a Connor yanked the last knot tight and rushed to her side. She noted in a detached sort of way that his face was ashen as he took her shoulders and gently laid her down. His hand shook as he reached out and pressed his palm against the wound. Hard.

The mist cleared, ripped away by the sound of her own scream.

Now she felt it.

Shead never known anything like it, the hideous mix of tearing and burning, as if someone was ripping at her with a glowing hot poker. And for a moment, she lost all reason. Nothing existed but the need to escape the pain. She struggled to get away, digging her heels into the earth, shoving at Connor with her right hand. She tried pushing him away with both, but lifting her left arm sent new waves of agony along her side and panic coursing through her veins.

Connor kept the pressure steady. Bending over her, he caught her flailing hand and pinned it to the ground. aNo, sweetheart . . . Iam sorry . . . Darling, donat . . . Breathe through your teeth.a That last order was so outrageous, so preposterous, it actually succeeded in cutting through a layer of panic.

aBreathe . . . through . . . my teeth?a aTry . . .a His breathing ragged, he arched over her protectively. A tremor racked his frame as he bent down to crush his lips to her brow. aPlease. For me.a She tried, for him. With her eyes locked on his, she sucked in air through her nose and pushed it out through her teeth.

aSlowly,a Connor said. His breath was hot and soothing against her skin. aThatas it . . . Thatas it, love . . . Is it getting better?a She offered a jerky nod. Her side hurt like the devil, but it was getting better, and with every slow exhale, the pain dulled a little more.

aIam sorry,a she choked out.

aNo. G.o.d.a He crushed his lips to hers. aItas all right. Itas all right, now. Just keep breathing . . . Thatas it . . . Keep going . . .a Releasing her, he drew away to inspect her injury. She felt his hand lift from her side and heard the rending of fabric. To distract herself, she studied the locks on his bent head, the details of each golden strand and wave. The pain receded further, until it was a throbbing ache instead of a shearing burn.

aItas a flesh wound,a he whispered raggedly. aItas only a flesh wound.a She took immediate exception to that.

aItas my flesh,a she ground out. There was no only about it.

Connor flashed her a wobbly grin. aDonat you trust me to take care of it?a She wanted to smile back but couldnat quite summon the courage or the strength. Risking a peek at her side, she caught a glimpse of angry red flesh before Connor covered her injury with a makeshift bandage fashioned of his handkerchief and a strip from her chemise. aItas not . . . mortal?a aNo, sweetheart.a He leaned over her for a quick soft kiss even as he divested himself of his coat and laid it over her. aIt missed the vitals. Youave lost some blood, but itas slowing.a She wanted to ask what the vitals were, exactly, and how could he be so certain theyad escaped damage, but she was distracted by the sudden arrival of several armed footmen.

aaEre they are!a One of them shouted. aGardeneras hut!a Within moments, the housekeeper, butler, and several more armed footmen had joined them.

aDear heavens, whatas happened?a aIs that Sir Robert?a aTold ye there were a shot!a aOh, missusa"!a Connor brought silence and order with a few short commands. aJennings, fetch the physician. Bernard, the magistrate. I want two guards on the baron. Mrs. McKarnin, have bandages, hot water, and honey brought to the master chambers. And brandy. A bottle of it.a He slipped an arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders, and carefully lifted her in his arms. Careful or not, the movement was jarring, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. Connoras manner was brisk and efficient, but there were deep lines of strain on his face. She hated seeing them.

aConnora"a aShh.a He headed for the house without a single backward glance for the baron. aClose your eyes. Rest.a Rest? Her heart was still pounding, her mind a mora.s.s of questions and lingering terror. And she had a hole in her side. It would be months before she would be able to close her eyes and rest. But to please him, and comfort them both, she wrapped her arm around his neck, laid her cheek against his shoulder, and watched the steady throb of his pulse in his neck.

aConnor? The letters Sir Roberta"a aRest.a aI donat want to,a she said softly. aI want to hear your voice.a His arms tightened around her. aYouare in pain. You needa"a aNot so much now,a she said, thinking it was only a small lie. Her side throbbed mercilessly, but it was still an improvement over those first awful moments. aThe letters Sir Robert spoke of . . . I thought youad burned them.a He hesitated before answering. aI did. Some of them. I . . .a He trailed off, and something akin to a growl issued from his throat.

aWhat?a aI didnat burn everything. h.e.l.l, I didnat burn half. I thought Iad only need a few so I could . . .a Color crept up his neck. aI burned them as . . .a aAs what?a aA gesture.a The color spread a little further. aI wanted to make the gesture. It was symbolic . . . Gregory and Michael were to dispose of the rest.a aOh. I see.a Obviously, Gregory and Michael went through with their own plans. aWere there really hundreds of them?a aNo,a he said, as he brought them through a side door into the house. aA couple dozen. Doesnat matter. Even one was enough.a

Chapter 30.

Conversation ceased as Connor carried Adelaide through the house, up the stairs, and into the master chambers where he laid her gently on the bed. Maids and footmen darted in and out of the room, carrying bandages, scissors, water, extra blankets, and wood. Connor replaced the blood-soaked handkerchief with clean linen. A maid lit a fire in the hearth, while the housekeeper and cook held a murmured debate over whether the honey should be applied to the bandages before or after the physician had the opportunity to examine the injury.

Adelaide found the busy activity oddly soothing, until someone mentioned the word asepsis.a aOut!a Connor bellowed, his face bleached of color. aEveryone out!a The staff hurried to obey, setting down their burdens and scurrying out the door. Over the shuffling of feet, Adelaide heard the slam of the front door and the pound of boots on the stairs.

aConnor!a aLad!a She stifled a groan. Michael and Gregory were home, and their timing could not have been worse.

aWhatas all this?a Michael called out. aWhereas the boy, then? Heall want to heara"a aAye, from me,a she heard Gregory say. aIall be telling him.a aThe h.e.l.l you will. Heall hear it from me, ora"a Connor marched to the open door. aIave heard!a Though Connor blocked most of her view into the hall, she could make out the edge of Michaelas round form and Gregoryas bony side as they came to a stop.

aWhatas this ruckus for? The wife abed? Whya"a aSheas been shot, youa"a aShot?!a both men exclaimed at once.

aIall be quite all right,a Adelaide called out, mostly for Connoras benefit. aItas only a flesh wound.a aA flesh wound, is it?a She heard a pair of relieved exhalations, something about spine, and then, aWho shot you, la.s.s?a aSir Robert,a Connor bit off.

A brief silence followed.

aAh.a ah.e.l.l.a aYou went through with it,a Connor snarled. aYou delivered those d.a.m.n letters.a aSure and we did,a Gregory agreed.

Michaelas voice turned defensive. aThe rotter tossed us in prison. What did you expect?a aI expected you to follow my b.l.o.o.d.y orders!a Connor roared. aI told you to destroy the papers. I told you Adelaide wanted me done with it. You said you understood.a aAnd so we did,a Gregory replied.

aA man ought be putting his wife first,a Michael agreed.

aThen why the devila"?a aWell, sheas not our wife, is she?a Gregory peered over Connoras shoulder. aWould you be caring for more than one husband?a aThank you, no.a aThere you have it, lad.a Gregoryas wrinkled hand pounded on Connoras shoulder. aSheas yours, entirely.a aDemands and all.a aShe didnat demand . . .a Connor dragged a hand down his face. aGo. Just go. Iall deal with you later.a aBut what happened toa"a Connor slammed the door shut, then swore viciously when a soft knock sounded not five seconds later. aI b.l.o.o.d.y well told youa"!a He swung the door back open to reveal a young, wide-eyed maid holding a bottle of brandy and two gla.s.ses. aBeggina pardon, sir,a she said nervously. aMrs. McKarnin said I should bring this straightaway. But if youare not wantinga"a aNo. I want it.a He took the bottle, ignored the gla.s.ses, and muttered something Adelaide very much hoped was an apology. The maid bobbed a lightning-quick curtsy and dashed away.

Adelaide studied Connoras face as he turned. Color had returned, but it wasnat what one might call a healthy hue. It was too dark, and steadily growing darker. He slammed the bottle down on the writing desk and began a steady pace at the foot of the bed. Hoping the exercise would serve to settle his temper, she decided to keep quiet for several minutes. She changed her mind when he began to flick dark glances in her direction every fifth step or so.

She lifted a hand to gesture at the brandy. aWhat are you going to do with that?a aDrink it.a aRight from the bottle? Fine nursemaid youall be then,a she teased, hoping for a smile. aWill you at least share?a aNo.a He all but snapped at her. aYouall have laudanum.a A little indignant, she frowned at him and plucked at the counterpane. aAre you angry with me?a aNo . . . Yes . . .a He spit out a word shead never before heard and therefore a.s.sumed was highly profane, and then he stalked around the bed to crouch over her, his hands gripping the pillow on either side of her head. aTake me with you?a aOh. That.a She offered him a weak smile. aI didnat mean it.a His eyes narrowed. aAnd did you mean to step in front of a bullet?a aCertainly not.a Shead meant to step in front of the gun. She distinctly recalled hoping bullets would not come into play.

Apparently, Connor failed to see the distinction. His face took on a tormented expression. aIt was for me to fight him. For me to protecta"a aYou were too far away. There was nothing you could do. Anda"a aThere was. I needed more time, thatas all. Ia"a aIsnat that what I gave you?a There was a long, long moment of silence in which a muscle in Connoras jaw grew increasingly more active.

aYes,a he finally bit out. And it was amazing, really, how much reluctance could be fit into a single word. aBut Iad have come up with it on my own. You had no businessa"a He broke off, his entire body tense and straining, and then, suddenly, the fight went out of him. The anger drained from his face, and a rush of breath spilled from his lips.

aOh, G.o.d.a A deep groan rumbled from his chest and he bent his head, resting his forehead against hers. aI thought Iad lose you,a he rasped, closing his eyes. aI thought . . .a aI thought the same.a She ran her palm up to stroke the knotted muscles in his neck. aBut here we are.a And it seemed wondrous that they should be so, glorious that she could feel his breath, strong and sure against her skin. Closing her eyes, she let herself steep in the miracle of both. Connor was alive. He was whole and hale and safe. She couldnat ask for more.

She might have been killed.

Connor struggled with the emotions warring inside him. There was anger, relief, and regret. But first and foremost, there was fear. Over and over again, he saw Adelaide stumbling back from Sir Robert. He watched helplessly as she collapsed to the ground, the bright stain of blood seeping through her gown.

Head never known such fear; not in the darkest hours after his parentsa death had he ever felt terror like this. He couldnat be rid of it, couldnat shove it aside or blanket it with anger. He could feel himself shake with it even now.

aI want to . . .a He wanted to wrap her in cotton batting and lock her away. More, he wanted to erase her own memories and spare her every second of fear, every heartbeat of pain.

aIam sorry.a His voice shook. aAdelaidea"a aShh. Youare not at fault.a aIf Iad stopped it all earlier. If Iad made it clear to Gregory anda"a She gave a small huff of annoyance. aIf Sir Robert had not hit you over the head with a dueling pistol and delivered you to a press-gang. If your father hadnat neglected his wife and child. Ifa"a He shook his head. aI should never have begun this. It was my fault Sir Robert took notice of you. I should never have brought you into it.a aIam grateful you did. Iam so grateful to have found you.a She brushed her hand through his hair. aI love you.a A shiver of pleasure raced over him, followed by a steely determination. What was done was done. He couldnat change the past, couldnat retrieve what had been stolen from him, erase who head been, or ignore what head done. But he could learn from his mistakes. He could treasure what he had now. Careful so as not to jar her, he settled his weight on the mattress, then took her face in his hands.

aYou asked me why I compromised you, why I married you, and why I burned those papers. And Iave given you . . .a Head given her vague answers and half-truths. He wanted her. She mattered. He needed her.

aI love you,a he whispered. aI love you with . . .a He faltered. aI love you more than . . .a He stumbled again. ah.e.l.l.a He couldnat find the right words. Head thought they would come once he got out the hardest bit, but now everything else seemed trivial and inadequate. And nothing, not even those hardest words, seemed capable of expressing the immeasurable contents of his heart.

He took her hand and pressed it to his chest over his heart, willing her to understand.

aI love you.a He kissed her softly, brushing his lips across her cheek, her brow, her lids. aI love you.a He took her mouth hungrily, pouring every ounce of himself into the kiss.

aI love you,a he whispered. aI donat have any other words.a Eyes bright with unshed tears, Adelaide framed his face with her hands. aTheyare all I need. Theyare everything Iave ever hoped for.a Click here for more books by this author Turn the page for a special preview of Alissa Johnsonas next historical romance Practically Wicked Coming soon from Berkley Sensation!

Life was best experienced through a thick layer of fine drink.

Inferior drink might do in a pinch, but Maximilian Dane was certain that nothing accompanied an evening of debauchery with the demimonde quite so well as several goblets of excellent wine at dinner, followed by a gla.s.s, or two, of expensive port in the billiards room, followed by a liberal tasting of superb brandy in the card room, followed by any number of flutes of champagne in Mrs. Wrayburnas ballroom, followed by . . . whatever it was he had poured in the library. He recalled an amber hue and delicate bite. He also recalled forgoing the actual pour and drinking straight from the bottle.

In hindsight, that may have been a mistake.

Because at some point following that final drink, he left the library in search of . . . something or other, and rather than finding his way back to the ballroom where this something was most likely to be found, he had landed herea"in a quiet, unfamiliar room illuminated by only a spattering of candles, and seated in a plain wooden chair before a plain wooden table, which had both initially appeared to be adequately sized for a man of five-and-twenty, but, upon his sitting, had proved to be entirely too near to the floor. His legs were bent at an angle he suspected would be impossible were it not for the limbering quality of all those gla.s.ses.

aWhat in G.o.das name is the matter with this furniture?a aLord Highsup cut the legs off for me when I was six,a a womanas voice explained. He liked the sound of it, lower than one expected from a woman and warm like the fine drink from the library.

He looked up from the golden wood grain of the table and squinted until the form sitting across from him came into focus. His companion wore a night rail and wrap. They were white, ruffled, and provided a sharply contrasting background to the dark braid of hair that fell over her shoulder and ended just below a well-formed breast.

aYouare not six.a aIndeed, I am not. How astute of you to ascertain.a aPlenty tart, though, I see. Who are you?a He threw up a hand, narrowly avoiding a thumb to the eye. aNo . . . No, wait. I know. I never forget a lady.a Leaning closer, he took in the young womanas pale gray eyes and delicate features, along with her rigid posture and indifferent expression. aYou . . . are Miss Anna Rees, the Ice Maiden of Anover House.a There was a slight pause before she spoke. aAnd you are Mr. Maximilian Dane, the Disappointment of McMullin Hall.a aAh . . . Notaa"he informed her with a quick jab of his finger at the ceilinga"aanymore. At half past seven this morning, or somewhere . . . thereabouts, I became Viscount Dane . . . the Disappointment of McMullin Hall.a aOh.a Her tone softened as the meaning of his words set in. aOh, I am sorry.a aaS neither here nor there,a he a.s.sured her with a clumsy sweep of his hand. aSpeaking of which . . . Where is here, love?a aAnover House.a aYes, I know. Lovely party. Where in Anover House?a aThe nursery.a aAh. That would explain the miniature furniture, wouldnat it?a He shifted a bit and grimaced when he caught the side of his ankle on the table leg. aBit long in the tooth for the nursery, arenat you?a aIt was the nearest room, my lord. Youa"a aDonat,a he cut in sharply. aDonat call me that. Iave hours yet.a aHours?a aUntil everyone hears, until everyone knows I am Lord Dane.a He curled his lip in disgust. aUntil I have to be a b.l.o.o.d.y viscount.a aVery well. Mr. Dane, then. If you woulda"a Something about the way she said his name sparked a memory.

aMrs. Cartwell,a he said suddenly and made a failed effort at snapping his fingers. aThatas why I came upstairs.a The reasonably attractive and exceptionally accommodating widow Cartwell had invited him to her guest chambers. Head stopped in the library for that last drink, something to further blur the face of his brother, and then . . . head become a bit turned around. He gave Miss Rees a quizzical look. aCame down the wrong hall, did I?a aIf you were after Mrs. Cartwell, yes. She is a floor below.a aI climbed an extra set of steps?a Strange; head not have thought himself capable. His legs felt like pudding. aHuh. And how is it I came to be in your company?a aI was in the hallway. You waved, tripped, and landed at my feet.a He closed his eyes in thought, found it made the room spin unpleasantly, and let his gaze drift over Miss Reesas face instead. He recalled now, smiling at the pretty lady, losing his feet and finding them again with the ladyas a.s.sistance. She smelled sweet and flowery, like sugar biscuits and roses. aSo I did. What the devil did I trip on?a aI couldnat say,a Miss Rees replied and rose smoothly from her chair.

In a display of coordination that surprised him, he reached forward and took hold of her wrist without falling out of his seat. aWhere are you going?a aTo ring for a.s.sistance.a She tugged at her wrist, but he held on with a gentle grasp. He liked the way the heat of her skin seeped through the cotton and warmed his palm.