"No." Not specifically.

"But you knew that he was gone and that I had reason to be searching for him. Did he inform you of his plans to run away with my sister?"

With a great show of frustration, Jinx turned and walked to the window. In truth, however, she needed desperately to break the hold of Lord Hartley's intense gaze. She feared he would see through any small fib she made, and even though her motives were pure-to save her brother's foolish skin-she did not want to lie to this man. After all, his motives were also commendable: to save his sister from a marriage few guardians would approve. She could not find fault with him for that.

Perhaps she should take a different tack. She turned to face him again. "I learned of this unfortunate situation just minutes prior to your arrival." She sighed. "My first thought was to go after him and stop him, but then you appeared. Tell me, what do you plan to do when you find them?"

When his jaw began rhythmically to clench and release-clench and release-she went on. "I know your reputation, Lord Hartley. Even here in the hinterlands we've heard tales of the murderous marquis. You will understand, therefore, my extreme interest in your answer. What do you intend to do?"

Their eyes locked. Jinx fancied she saw the workings of his mind. He weighed her value to his search against his need to vow his vengeance. She saw clearly the moment he dismissed her impact on his plans.

"I intend to challenge him to a duel," he stated calmly. Coldly. "I intend to do my level best to rid me and my sister of him forever."

Fury banished.every other emotion Jinx felt. She drew herself up, jerking her shawl closer around her shoulders. "I'll thank you to get out of my house. This very minute," she ordered.

"Not until I see the letter he left you. The one you apparently discovered this morning."

"I didn't say he left a letter. For all you know, he told me himself."

In a moment he was across the room, mere inches from her. He was so much taller, so much more threatening up close. She would have stepped back, but he caught her by the shoulders. "Is he here? Is Alice here?"

"How dare you lay hands upon me, sir! Release me at once!"

"The truth, Miss Benchley. Where are they? What do you know about this affair?"

"Enough to know I will not cooperate with the likes of you! Enough to understand why your poor sister would flee your protection for Colin's!"

He let go of her with an oath. "Alice is not fleeing me, though you may console yourself with thinking so. She no doubt fancies herself in love-an honest error for an innocent such as she. But I've learned enough about your brother to know he is not so innocent. You Benchleys have a reputation for being outlandish. Eccentrics. You do not fit in with the rest of proper society."

Jinx rubbed her hands over the places he'd held her. Though he'd not hurt her, the press of his fingers yet left their mark. "If we are eccentric, it is only because the rules of your society are so stifling as to kill any hope of creativity and happiness. Your rules are for small minds, and we Benchleys do not have small minds. Go on," she ordered. "Leave here. Chase after your sister. She has obviously made a love match with my brother and I have no doubt that she and Colin are supremely happy together, else they would not have risked your anger. But what have they to fear?" she added bitingly. " 'Tis clear Alice is possessed of a much broader intelligence than her narrow-minded brother. I should think she and Colin will have no trouble at all outwitting you. Good day, sir. I have nothing further to say to you."

Chapter Two

Jinx watched from the parlor window as Harrison Stirling stalked across the gravel front court, toward the stables. A little shiver snaked through her, and she rubbed her arms distractedly. The Marquis of Hartley would make a dire enemy. Did Colin have any inkling of the danger he'd put himself in?

Bits and pieces of old gossip filtered up from her memory. Lord Hartley had been quite as terrible a rake as society had ever seen. Drinking. Gambling. Whoring. Not to mention the dueling. And he had the gall to think Colin unsuitable! Then again, she'd heard reformed rakes made the strictest fathers-or guardians, in this case.

Except that Harrison Stirling hardly appeared to be reformed. The man was all temper and muscle and ruthless determination. Up close she'd been too involved in their confrontation to notice details of his appearance. But from the safety of her parlor window she could now be more detached.

In truth, Lord Hartley cut a most impressive figure- not unusual for a rake of the sporting set. The long, muscular legs of a horseman. The broad shoulders of a fencer. The powerful arms of a boxing enthusiast.

Colin did those things, too, she reminded herself. But

Harrison Stirling was half a head taller than her brother, and fairly two stone heavier, she'd wager.

If Lord Hartley caught up with him, Colin was a dead duck.

But only if Hartley caught up with him.

Her eyes narrowed, following the arrogant marquis until he disappeared beyond her prized topiary clipped in the shape of dragons. He would assume Colin and Alice had set off for Gretna Green as, according to fifer brother's letter, they had. But there were two main routes headed north, and any number of lesser routes. Colin would not wish to be caught. So which route would he take?

She bit her lip and fiddled with the lace curtain, still staring at the leafy dragons that formed an arch with their tails. She should have asked Lord Hartley where Lady Alice had disappeared from, London or a country estate. Colin had last been at home on Friday. Then he'd departed for town to meet their cousin Alfred-or so he'd said. He'd known she meant to spend a long weekend in Caulfield with her friend Virginia, who'd recently had her third child. That's why the wretch had left the note on her desk. He'd counted on her not finding it until Tuesday morning. It was pure chance she'd cut her visit a little short. Still, he had three days' head start on her.

"Lizard legs," she swore. She was wasting time. She needed to get under way, but only after Harrison Stirling was well away from Benchley House.

But he didn't leave and didn't leave, and when Jinx could bear to wait no longer, she stormed out to the stables. She found him in the carriage house, with the stable workers lined up, thoroughly cowed by his relentless questioning.

"… so no carriage is missing?"

The three stablemen nodded their heads in unison. Jinx wanted to scream. She would have asked them the very same thing, had she been provided time enough to think of it. But if Lord Hartley thought he could instigate a private inquisition on her property, he was very much mistaken.

"Darren. Clifton. Rob. You are all dismissed. Go about your work," she ordered in crisp tones. Grateful, they bobbed their heads and practically sprinted from the shaded carriage house. Then she turned on Lord Hartley and his man. She crossed her arms and gave him her severest look. "I believe I asked you to leave."

He raised one dark brow in a maddening display of arrogance. "So you did. And in so doing, you no doubt think to delay my search. But I caution you, Miss Benchley. Do not think a relationship to the Hartley name will benefit either you or your brother."

"Hah! I'm hardly so delusional as to believe that. Though you may find this difficult to comprehend, not everyone finds a connection to the upper nobility an asset. If the truth be told, I cannot imagine a less welcome notion. You as my brother-in-law." She forced a visible shudder.

Unfortunately, the insult she implied just ricocheted off his superior attitude. "So you say. But the two carriages you keep appear older than you." He gestured around them. "There's a hole in the roof, judging by that spot of sunshine next to your foot. And the entire' premises, both house and outbuildings, are in need of a fresh coat of paint. You do not keep a butler. 'Tis obvious your finances are not entirely in order. Added to that, the Benchley penchant for investing in ridiculous inventions is well-known." He crossed his arms across his chest, mirroring her pose. "Did I leave anything out?"

Jinx trembled with outrage. How dare he reduce her family to the status of lowly money grubbers! She advanced on him, fists knotted and eyes blazing. "How like an aristocrat to focus purely on the physical-and the monetary. You have indeed left something out, something which defines the Benchleys much more clearly than our financial condition. We have a long history of making love matches. We Benchleys always marry for love."

"For love?" he snorted. "Perhaps. But love of what?"

Though it was clear she would have no influence on his poor opinion of either her brother or her family, Jinx's dander was up. She could not ignore his sarcasm. "I'll confess, I too find it hard to imagine Colin falling in love with your sister. Given what I know of you and your horrid reputation, I find myself hard-pressed to believe anything good of your sister. Had Colin asked my opinion, I would have advised him to avoid any connection with the Hartley line. But he did not ask my opinion, and so I can only assume that he sees something in her worth loving. Despite all the liabilities attached to her name, she must possess some redeeming grace for them to have made a love match. At least I dearly hope so."

The words had tumbled out in a violent rush, a sarcastic sermon that left her breathless. But as she came up for air, she realized he was staring at her with a strange glitter in his eyes-and that she'd advanced far too near him.

"Were you a man," he said, "I'd call you out for insulting my family in such a manner."

Jinx swallowed hard. "Were I a man, I would already have called you out," she vowed. "If you will recall, you insulted my family first"

"But you're not a man, are you?" he observed in a voice that no longer sounded angry. It was no longer loud, either. In fact, there was a disturbingly husky quality to it which, when coupled with his intent gaze, seemed more seductive than anything else.

And she could feel herself responding to it.

Oh, help! a little voice cried from somewhere inside

her. While she trusted herself to match wits with the man, she'd not considered that he might try to seduce her. Stupid, stupid girl. He was not considered a rake for nothing!

She took a hasty step backward. "I think you should leave, Lord Hartley. Colin is not here and I cannot help you."

"Cannot? Or will not?" His eyes ran over her in a slow perusal that shot the most inappropriate prickles of awareness through her. He was trying to disarm her with his famous charm. And she'd almost let him.

But not anymore.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and when his eyes locked once more with hers, she deliberately let her eyes go crossed. It was an old childhood ploy, one she'd often used to distract Colin. Now, though, she used it to distract herself. If she could not see Lord Hartley's handsome face and slumberous gaze, they could not affect her.

"What are you doing?"

Jinx started at his sudden question, again stepping backward. But her crossed eyes made her awkward. She lost her balance and might even have fallen had not Lord Hartley caught her. By the time her eyes were straight, he had her laid down on the dusty stable floor.

"Are you all right?" He knelt over her, his face but inches from hers. "Can you hear me?" He patted her cheek rather sharply. "Miss Benchley, can you hear me?"

"I can hear you!" She batted his hand away.

He looked immeasurably relieved. "It appears you may have fainted."

"I did not faint." She struggled up on her elbows. "I never faint. Would you please move?"

"Are you subject to fits, then? Your eyes went crossed.",

"I know they did," she fumed, feeling like an idiot.

"I see. Do they do that often?"

She glared at him. "It depends on whether or not I want them to." She crossed her eyes for emphasis, then uncrossed them.

His brow furrowed as he stared at her, and all at once Jinx became acutely conscious of their odd position. She lay on the carriage-house floor with a stranger kneeling over her-a famous town rake, no less. Pray God none of the servants were near enough to see. Of course, it might be better if someone were nearby, for Harrison Stirling was again studying her with that disturbingly intent gaze of his.

Then his eyes crossed and she couldn't help it. She burst out laughing.

He started laughing, too, and for a moment, at least, the two of them were in accord. But when he helped her upright, their humor could not last. The dire circumstances of their meeting precluded it. Slowly their laughter faded, and she took a careful step back from him.