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  “I cannot travel to London with you, Lord Haviland. For all that you were close to my father, you are a perfect stranger to me.”

  “No,” Haviland countered easily. “Even though we have never met until now, we are certainly not strangers. Come now.” His tone lightened, becoming more charming and persuasive than commanding. “You claimed me as your protector a few moments ago. You should allow me to fulfill the role for a while longer.”

  Madeline flushed in remembrance of her own boldness. “You know I did not mean it. I only wished to dampen Baron Ackerby’s ardor.”

  “Which you did admirably. But I am not in the same league as that lecher. You may trust me, Miss Ellis. There is nothing untoward in my offer. And there is no question about my helping you, either. Your father saved my life. I owe him a debt I can never repay.”

  Madeline’s speechlessness returned as she realized Lord Haviland was truly serious about taking responsibility for her welfare.

  When she remained uncustomarily silent, he continued as if musing aloud. “I would invite you to reside with me until you find employment. I have several homes … a town house in London, a family seat in Kent, a country villa near Chiswick, and other properties as well. But that obviously won’t do, since a single lady cannot properly live with a bachelor. However, there is a quiet hotel in London that is appropriate for gentlewomen,” Haviland added before Madeline could respond.

  “I’m afraid I could not afford a hotel. I mean to take a room at an inexpensive lodging house.”

  “I would be happy to fund your stay.”

  Madeline shook her head firmly. “I will not accept your charity, Lord Haviland.”

  “It isn’t charity in the least. Think of it as my belatedly fulfilling an obligation to a friend.”

  “Lord Haviland,” she said with growing exasperation. “I have always fended for myself, and I mean to do so now.”

  “Perhaps you have, but these are unusual circumstances.”

  Straightening her spine, Madeline enunciated slowly, as if he might be hard of hearing. “I assure you, I can manage on my own.”

  “I have no trouble believing that, but my conscience would give me no peace if I left you to your own devices.”

  “Your peace of mind is of no great import to me.”

  Haviland smiled and cocked his head at her. “Has anyone ever suggested that you are too independent for your own good, Miss Ellis?”

  She was independent because she’d had to be, yet he gave her no time to say so.

  “I admire your determination to be self-sufficient, but it is foolhardy to refuse my help when I am more than willing to give it.”

  Unexpectedly, Madeline was at a loss for words. Perhaps she was being foolhardy in turning down Haviland’s offer of assistance. In truth, his kindness brought another unwanted lump to her throat. She was fully accustomed to caring for others, not having someone care for her, particularly a near stranger. And she was sorely tempted to rely on the strength that radiated from him.

  Despite the temptation, however, she couldn’t accept. Not only because of the impropriety, but because she didn’t wish to be in his debt. “Thank you, but I cannot accept your largesse.”

  “Well, I am not letting you go to London on your own.” Then Haviland suddenly changed the subject again. “What about teaching?”

  Madeline blinked. “What about it?”

  “My closest neighbors in Chiswick are three genteel sisters who have recently married. They are looking for suitable replacements to teach at their academy for young ladies. It could be an ideal solution for you. In fact, I can take you to stay tonight with the eldest sister, Arabella, Lady Danvers. I just saw her and Danvers at a house party in Brighton, but they left early, even before I did, to return home to Chiswick. Before that, they were away on their wedding trip for some weeks and needed to see to their obligations.”

  “I could not possibly allow you to do any such thing.”

  That gave him pause. “Are you saying you don’t want to teach?”

  “No, I am not saying that at all. I might like teaching very well. But I cannot just show up on her doorstep uninvited.”

  “Of course you can. I will vouch for you, so you needn’t worry about being turned away. I promise you will be doing Lady Danvers a kindness if you can teach adolescent girls how to become ladies.” He held up a hand to forestall her continuing protest. “I am not inviting debate, Miss Ellis.”

  Madeline’s spine stiffened again. “Are you always this overbearing?”

  “Are you always this stubborn?”

  “Yes!”

  His smile moved from his lips to his beautiful eyes. “At least you gave me fair warning. You do indeed speak your mind.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh—although why she should find it amusing to have a nobleman running roughshod over her, she couldn’t imagine.

  As if sensing that she was wavering, Haviland prodded her further. “At least consider my idea, Miss Ellis. I sincerely want to repay my debt to your father, and this will allow me to in some small measure. Besides, you were correct earlier when you said I am a gentleman, and it would not be at all gentlemanly to leave you to the mercy of a bounder when I could easily prevent it.”

  When Madeline continued to debate with herself, he added provokingly, “Surely you won’t refuse just to spare your pride? It is not charity to help find you gainful employment.”

  Pride was indeed a major flaw of hers, Madeline conceded. Maman had frequently lamented her failing. And admittedly, she was prickly about the need to accept charity. She bit her lower lip, wondering what her maman would do in this situation.

  “So are we agreed?” Haviland asked, watching her expression.

  Madeline raised a hand to her temple. Her head was spinning at the speed with which this man was directing her life. Yet if he merely gave her an introduction to Lady Danvers and secured her an interview for a position as a teacher … well, that would not be so bad—

  She gave a start when another male voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “I say, old chap, I did not realize you were occupied.”

  At the unexpected arrival of the newcomer, Madeline jumped to her feet, and in the process, Haviland’s greatcoat slipped from one shoulder to expose her nightdress.

  The rather gangly blond-haired gentleman who had just entered the parlor stopped abruptly to give her an admiring perusal. “Leave it to you to find a willing female to comfort you on a foul night like this, Rayne,” he said with a touch of envy in his tone.

  Madeline flushed pink as she righted the garment to cover her exposure, while Haviland rose and spoke to the blond man rather sharply. “Stubble your wicked misconjectures, cawker. Miss Ellis is a lady. You merely find her under unfortunate circumstances.”

  His tone softened as he addressed Madeline. “I beg your pardon, Miss Ellis. This sorry bleater is a distant cousin of mine—the Honorable Mr. Freddie Lunsford.”

  Mr. Lunsford eyed her skeptically for another moment, then executed a gallant bow and flashed a charming grin. “Do forgive me, Miss Ellis. I frequently eat both of my feet at once. But you can see how I could have misconstrued events.”

  He seemed sincere, Madeline decided, judging from his earnest tone. So she returned a faint smile. “Yes, indeed, Mr. Lunsford, I quite understand. And it is I who should ask your forgiveness for intruding on your meeting with Lord Haviland.”

  When she picked up her pistol from the sofa seat, however, Lunsford’s blue eyes widened, and it was Haviland’s turn to smother a grin. “You will learn it is wise not to provoke Miss Ellis, Freddie.”

  Lunsford swallowed, and his voice seemed a trifle high when he asked, “You don’t mean to shoot anyone, do you, ma’am?”

  Madeline gave Haviland a repressive glance before saying sweetly, “I hope the need for shooting has passed, Mr. Lunsford.”

  There was still a gleam of amusement in Haviland’s eyes when he spoke again to his relative. “I know we meant
to discuss your situation, Freddie, but I fear our plans will have to change. I must convey Miss Ellis to Chiswick tonight, and it would be best not to arrive too late.”

  “But time is growing devilish tight, Rayne,” Lunsford protested even before Madeline could make her own objection to the scheme.

  Haviland held up a hand. “My apologies, old fellow, but Miss Ellis’s welfare takes precedence over yours just now since her case is more immediate. I can return here in a few hours—or you may follow us in your carriage and stay the night at Riverwood, which will allow ample time for you to tell me your tale. In any event, it will be morning before I can act, so we will not actually lose any time. Moreover, I’m certain you don’t wish to air your grievances in a lady’s hearing.”

  Freddie opened his mouth to speak, then evidently thought better of saying too much in front of Madeline and sighed in resignation. “Very well, I will follow you. But if I cannot deliver within a week, my goose will be well and truly cooked.”

  “I understand. But it will not come to that, I promise you. Your goose will be quite safe.”

  Haviland turned to Madeline. “You should return to your chamber and dress, Miss Ellis, while I pay your shot with the innkeep.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I thought I explained my feelings on the subject of charity quite clearly.”

  “And I thought we agreed not to argue. Do you have any luggage to stow in my carriage?”

  Madeline stared at Haviland in disbelief, but he regarded her evenly.

  “Have you any luggage to take with you?” he repeated with the cool assurance of a man who inevitably got his way.

  “Merely a bandbox. My trunk was still on the stage the last I knew.”

  “I will have innkeep fetch your trunk and arrange for its delivery to Chiswick.”

  “Lord Haviland—” she began before his deep voice interrupted in a silken tone.

  “Do you need me to escort you to your room, Miss Ellis?”

  He was clearly single-minded of purpose, leaving her with the feeling of being swept along in his wake. It was exasperating in the extreme…. But still, throwing her lot in with Lord Haviland seemed the best alternative, given her circumstances. She felt safer with him than stranded on her own at a strange inn, although that was not saying much.

  Before making her decision, Madeline looked to his cousin. The congenial Mr. Lunsford seemed harmless enough. In fact, his charming manner reminded her somewhat of her brother, Gerard. She was marginally comforted to know Mr. Lunsford would be following them to Chiswick. Yet she didn’t relish the prospect of being alone with Lord Haviland in his carriage. Such close proximity would remind her too keenly of his devastating kisses. On the other hand, he was a trusted friend of her father’s, so surely she could trust him also.

  Madeline found herself giving the same sigh of resignation that his cousin had given. “No, my lord, I do not require an escort.”

  Haviland smiled then, a slow, spellbinding, approving smile that took her breath away. “Good. We will await you here and depart as soon as you are dressed.”

  Forcing herself to exhale inaudibly, Madeline gave a curt nod to Haviland and a polite curtsy to his relative, then hurried toward the door.

  The last thing she heard as she left the parlor was Mr. Lunsford complaining in a half-amused voice. “I suppose you cannot help playing the white knight, Rayne, but need you rescue a distressed damsel just when I need you the most?”

  Haviland’s response, when it came, was in a similar amused vein. “No, I cannot help myself—and you should be grateful for my compulsion, since you will benefit from it.”

  “Oh, I am, I am….”

  She was grateful to Lord Haviland as well, Madeline decided as she quickly made her way down the corridor to her bedchamber. Yet she couldn’t help but worry that by putting her fate in the hands of a nobleman of Haviland’s stamp—a dangerous lord whom she found overwhelming and nearly irresistible—she was truly leaping from the frying pan into the flames.

  After apologizing once more to a disappointed Freddie for the change in plans, Rayne pulled the bell rope, which brought the innkeeper scurrying to do his bidding. He paid the bills and arranged for Miss Ellis’s trunk to be delivered to Riverwood near Chiswick and for his own coach to be readied, then compensated the proprietor handsomely to stifle any urge he might have to gossip. Finally, Rayne settled on the sofa to hear Freddie’s tale of woe.

  What he learned about his scapegrace relative did not surprise him: Freddie, lamentably, had indulged in a torrid affair with a French widow named Solange Sauville and was now being blackmailed with the love letters he foolishly wrote to her.

  “She wants two thousand pounds, devil take her,” Freddie lamented. “If I cannot come up with the blunt, she’s threatened to go to my father. You must save me, Rayne. Not only will my quarterly allowance be cut off, I’ll be banished to the wilds of Yorkshire.”

  It was not an idle threat, Rayne suspected, knowing Freddie’s high-stickler sire. If Lord Wainwright learned of his son’s rakish escapades with the Frenchwoman, he would doubtless cut him off without a penny.

  Thus when Freddie had written and implored him for help, Rayne had willingly extricated himself from the house party in Brighton where he was dancing attendance on his grandmother.

  Since their early school days together at Eaton, he’d shielded Freddie from bullies and the sly cruelties that boys perpetrate on one another. It was a habit that continued through Oxford and long into their adulthood—in part because Rayne had always had an outsized protective streak from the time he was a mere youth, but also because he felt obligated by Freddie’s connection to his late mother’s family. And in truth, Freddie was charming, good-natured, fiercely loyal, and often entertaining, if not overly bright. Furthermore, his cheerful optimism was the perfect antidote to the darkness and death Rayne saw far too frequently in his career.

  However, he barely had time to reassure Freddie of his intention to save him from the widow’s attempt at blackmail before Madeline Ellis reappeared in the doorway. She had spent little time dressing—doubtless in an effort to be prompt, Rayne suspected.

  Scanning her drab attire, however, made him frown. She wore a plain brown cloak and black bonnet that did nothing to enhance her pale complexion, while her black-gloved hands carried a small bandbox in addition to the greatcoat he’d loaned her.

  Inexplicably, Rayne couldn’t help feeling a measure of guilt that she had fallen on hard times, even though he was certainly not responsible. But his protective streak had asserted itself powerfully in her case. Honor, too, would not permit him to abandon the daughter of the army officer who’d once saved his life. At the very least he intended to shield her from the Baron Ackerbys of the world.

  “I am ready, Lord Haviland,” she murmured a little breathlessly.

  “Then we should be on our way,” he answered, rising along with Freddie.

  After donning the greatcoat she returned to him, Rayne escorted Miss Ellis down to his waiting carriage. When she stepped out into the chill, foggy night, she shivered—and when he put a hand at her back to guide her to his waiting coach, he realized the likely reason.

  “Your cloak is wet through,” he commented, his tone holding disapproval.

  “Yes. I was caught in a rainstorm this afternoon.”

  Rayne immediately called to his coachman to stow her bandbox and provide her with a carriage lap robe, then handed her inside. After speaking briefly to Freddie to ensure he would follow them, Rayne settled on the seat opposite her.

  She had removed her cloak and bonnet, he saw in the light of the interior lamp, and had wrapped the woolen blanket snugly around her shoulders.

  “Thank you,” she murmured as the coach began to move. “That was kind of you.”

  “You needn’t keep thanking me, Miss Ellis,” Rayne said more sharply than he intended, disliking her gratitude as much as she disliked having to accept it.

  She stiffened almost imperceptibly
before saying rather tartly, “Very well, I won’t.”

  At her retort, Rayne reminded himself that she was not precisely a damsel in distress. Madeline Ellis was no meek, submissive miss. Indeed, she was feisty and brave and, apparently, every inch her father’s daughter.

  It was almost amusing that she looked so staid and unassuming, he decided.

  “Why the black garb?” he asked about her unbecoming bombazine gown as the well-sprung coach settled into a gently rocking rhythm.

  “I am wearing mourning in honor of my late employer,” she replied.

  Her attire was appropriate to a governess or a companion, he supposed. Additionally, she now wore her hair pulled tightly back from her face in a coiled braid, with no curls to soften the angular lines of her features. The severe effect was rather unbecoming, yet her large gray eyes saved her from being completely plain. And her full, red-ripe lips were sin itself.

  Rayne shifted uncomfortably in his seat, remembering the taste of those sensual lips and her ardent response. From outward appearances he never would have guessed such a colorless-looking creature would have such a passionate nature.

  He regretted his own lustful physical response to her, however. In the interest of distracting his mind, Rayne decided he might as well occupy the hour-long journey learning more about her.

  “Your mother was French, I understand?”

  A soft smile curved her lips. “Yes. Maman’s parents fled the Revolution and settled near Chelmsford in Essex, a district that is heavily populated with émigrés. She met my father there when he was on leave from the Army, and they were married a fortnight later. It was a case of love at first sight, yet the haste was also necessary since he had to return to his post.”

  “I thought your father owned a farm.”

  “He did … an inheritance from his late uncle, which was passed down to my brother. But it is neither very large nor very profitable. I lived there until I was eighteen, when my father died, but with Gerard to support and his schooling to fund, I decided to seek outside employment in order to make ends meet. And Lady Talwin’s estate was only three miles away.”