"Did you sleep well?" he asked after a moment where the only sound was her cutlery tapping against her plate.

No. I tossed and turned most of the night, and it s entirely your fault. "Yes, thank you. Did you?"

After a full minute passed without him offering a reply, she risked prying her attention from her thinly sliced ham to peek up at him. And nearly choked on her food.

His gaze was riveted on her breasts.

All the tension that had drained away after his easy greeting and companionable conversation, came roaring back, bringing with it a storm of heat. To her horror, she felt her nipples harden. And to her utter mortification, it was obvious from his quick intake of breath and the way his eyes darkened that he noticed.

She felt color climbing up her neck. She needed to lift her napkin, or cross her arms-something-yet she found she couldn't move. Aching need rushed through her, sparking to life nerve endings that had lain dormant for three years.

He suddenly looked up, and her breath stalled at the unmistakable desire emanating from his eyes. "No," he said, his voice low and husky. "I didn't sleep well at all."

"I… I'm sorry to hear that." Please, please stop looking at me like that. It makes me feel things I don't want to feel… Makes me want things…

He reached for his coffee, breaking that hypnotic stare, and relief relaxed some of her tense muscles.

"But then, I rarely sleep well when I'm not in my own bed," he said. "I spent the night here."

Her heart skipped a beat. No more than a few feet had separated them last night. "You did?"

"Yes. Given the dangers you've faced, coupled with the fact that we don't know if there might be further threats to you, I thought it best. I sent a footman round to my rooms last night to collect my essentials. I plan to remain here until we leave for Bradford Hall, which may be happening quite soon." Reaching into his jacket, he withdrew a note. "This arrived last night after you'd retired. It's from Shelbourne. He's invited us to call upon him this morning. I haven't responded yet, as I didn't know if you still wished to meet him in light of the fact that you no longer have his ring. Since he never knew you had it-"

"He knew. I wrote to him yesterday, telling him. I wanted him to know I had the ring and wished to return it to him." She blew out a breath. "I feel dreadful having to tell him it is no longer in my possession, but there is no alternative."

He rose, setting his napkin next to his plate. "In that case, I shall write him immediately, telling him to expect us. If you'll excuse me…"

Although she tried not to, she watched his reflection in the huge gilt mirror hanging above the mahogany sideboard. When he disappeared through the doorway, a breath she hadn't realized she held, expelled from her lips, and she fought the urge to fan herself with her napkin.

There was no doubt about it-Lord Robert looked as fine exiting a room as he did entering one.


********

Robert fought the urge to scowl as he watched the earl of Shelbourne bow low over Mrs. Brown's hand.

"A pleasure to meet you," the earl said. "Jamison here always seems to be acquainted with the loveliest women. I'm honored that he would introduce us." Tucking Mrs. Brown's hand through his arm, he led her across the well-appointed drawing room to an overstuffed settee. He sat next to Mrs. Brown, angling himself in such a way that Robert was forced to sit several yards away in a wing chair.

Settling himself in the chair, which he grudgingly admitted was quite comfortable, he silently observed Geoffrey Hadmore and Mrs. Brown. With her golden-brown eyes wide and full of distress, she explained, as she had to him last evening, how she'd found the ring among her husband's possessions and traced it to him. Then she related the story of the robbery, apologizing profusely, and promising to return the ring to him immediately if it was found.

Shelbourne, his dark eyes full of admiring warmth, clasped her hand between his. "My dear, undoubtedly this ring was nothing more than an inexpensive bauble an uncle or cousin sold or gave away. And I can hardly miss something that I never even knew existed. While I greatly appreciate your efforts to restore it to me, you mustn't give it another thought. Now, you must tell me about America. Fascinating place. I'd love to travel there someday…"

Robert shifted in his chair and turned a deaf ear to Shelbourne. Bloody hell, it was an effort not to roll his eyes at all the palaver flapping from the earl's lips. Indeed, if it had been directed at anyone other than Mrs. Brown, he would have ignored it and simply enjoyed the tea and what looked like excellent biscuits resting on the ornate silver tea tray. But as the full strength of Shelbourne's attention and charm was directed at Mrs. Brown, Robert's teeth ground in annoyance.

At that moment Shelbourne's mastiff walked into the room, the thump of his massive paws silenced by the maroon-and-blue Persian rug. Robert patted his knee in invitation to the beast, who he recalled from walks in the park was named Thorndyke and whose enormous size hid a kittenlike temperament.

Clearly sensing a friend, Thorndyke trotted over and plopped his huge head on Robert's thigh, looking up at him with a woebegone expression. Robert stroked the dog's warm fur, then shared a biscuit with him. Thorndyke gazed at him with pure canine devotion that proclaimed them to now be lifelong friends.

He glanced over at the couple on the settee and his annoyance instantly multiplied when he observed an attractive blush staining Mrs. Brown's cheeks. "That is very kind of you to say, Lord Shelbourne," she murmured.

Damn it, what the hell had the bounder said? He'd been so disgruntled, he'd missed it. He did not, however, miss Shelbourne's low-pitched reply.

"Please, call me Geoffrey." A slow, admiring smile, the likes of which Robert had seen Shelbourne bestow on numerous other women, eased over the earl's face. "I see no reason for us to be so formal, do you? And may I call you Alberta?"

"By God, look at the time," Robert said, jumping to his feet, brushing biscuit crumbs from his breeches, which Thorndyke immediately licked up. "Had no idea it was so late. Really must shove off. Important appointment, you know."

Mrs. Brown appeared surprised by his announcement, but she quickly gathered up her reticule. Shelbourne rose and shot Robert a look that was no doubt meant to be pleasant, but which didn't quite cover up the annoyance simmering in his eyes.-

"If you must go, Jamison, of course I won't detain you. There is, however, no need for Mrs. Brown to depart so soon. I'd be delighted to escort her home after we've finished getting acquainted."

I’ll just wager you would be. Curving his lips into a smile that precisely mimicked Shelbourne's, Robert shook his head regretfully. "A generous offer, Shelbourne, but I'm afraid that's impossible. The appointment is Mrs. Brown's, and therefore she must be present."

Shelbourne stared at him for the space of several heartbeats. Robert kept his expression perfectly bland. Clearly the earl wished to pursue the matter, but instead he turned to Mrs. Brown, who had risen and stood near the edge of the settee.

Taking her hand, Shelbourne raised it to his lips and pressed a decidedly prolonged kiss to her fingertips, edging Robert's irritation up several more notches.

"I am bereft that you must leave so soon," Shelbourne said, "but I am delighted we were introduced. It is not often that my home is graced with such beauty."

Robert fought the urge to drag Shelbourne outdoors and introduce him to the cobblestones. Headfirst. Damn it all, he was looking at Mrs. Brown as if she were a sugarcoated morsel he wished to nibble upon.

Tucking her arm through his with a proprietary air that curled Robert's hands into fists, the earl walked with Mrs. Brown toward the foyer. As the corridor was only wide enough to accommodate two people, Robert was forced to trail behind.

"I would like very much to continue our conversation… Alberta. Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the opera this evening?"

"Thank you," came Alberta 's soft reply, "but as I'm in mourning, I'm afraid I cannot accept."

Ha! See there, she's in mourning, you reprobate, so just cast your roving eye elsewhere. The opera, indeed. Robert knew Shelbourne well enough to know that singing was the last thing on the man's mind. He recognized that lustful gleam in Shelbourne's eye. And well you should, his inner voice taunted. It s the same gleam you have in your own eye for the lovely Mrs. Brown.

His irritation pumped up yet another notch, and he consigned his inner voice to the devil. Yes, she inspired lustful urges in him. But at least he knew he wouldn't act upon them. Shelbourne, he knew, wouldn't hesitate. Yes, unlike Shelbourne, he most certainly would not foist his lust upon a woman who still mourned her dead husband. No, he'd take such urges to a mistress.

A frown tugged down his brows. Fustian. He did not currently have a mistress. He'd been so busy trying to find a wife…

Well, he'd simply double his efforts to find a wife and bring his lustful urges to her. He'd find a beautiful young English girl and marry her and-

At that moment Mrs. Brown turned around, and their eyes met. The effect was like a blow to his midsection. His jaw clenched as the truth settled upon him like a death knell. It was going to be bloody hard to search for a bride when he could not even entertain the thought of any woman except the one looking at him right now.


*********

Pushing aside the burgundy velvet drapery in his private study, Geoffrey watched the black lacquer coach carrying Jamison and Mrs. Brown disappear from view. For the first time in what seemed like decades, he allowed himself to draw an easy breath.

Mrs. Brown had not given any indication, by her manner or conversation, that she knew his secret. Of course, she might simply be a consummate actress, but once the ring was in his possession, it wouldn't matter what she might know. He'd destroy the evidence. And then get rid of the loose ends.

At that moment he caught sight of Lester Redfern walking swiftly toward the town house. Speaking of loose ends…

Ah, yes, within a matter of minutes, the ring would be his, thus ending the nightmare that had hovered over him for so long.


*********

"I wasn't aware I had an appointment," Allie said as the carriage moved slowly down the crowded street. Indeed, she would have contradicted Lord Robert's obvious falsehood on principle if she had not been anxious to depart. No doubt she should have been flattered by the handsome earl's obvious interest, but instead his attentions had repulsed her. Now, if only the man sitting across from her repulsed her…

A boyish smile lit his features. "Of course not, this appointment is a surprise."

Dear Lord, it was difficult to resist that smile, but she had to. For her own peace of mind. "I'm afraid I do not care overmuch for surprises," she said stiffly. "Where are we going?"

"Nowhere sinister, Mrs. Brown, I give you my word. I simply scheduled an appointment for you at the modiste. I thought you might wish to replace your destroyed gowns."

An embarrassed flush crept up her face. Heaven knew she did not wish to spend the next weeks and months with only two gowns to her name, but she simply could not afford to purchase new ones. And how humiliating to have to admit as much to him, especially when his gesture was so kind and thoughtful.

Raising her chin, she said, "While that was very considerate of you, I'm afraid I only brought limited travel funds with me."

"I do not know how clothing is priced in America, but I believe you'll find that it is quite inexpensive here in London. Remarkably so. Especially wools. All those sheep wandering about the countryside, you know."

Although she suspected that what constituted inexpensive to him would differ vastly from her definition, a spark of hope kindled in her. If what he said was true, perhaps she could afford one new gown.

The carriage halted. "Here we are," Lord Robert said with a winning grin. "Let us see what fabulous bargains Madame Renee has to offer."


********

Geoffrey looked at the ring resting in his palm, then raised his gaze to Redfern.

"There it is," Redfern said. "Had it sewn into her petticoat, she did. Right clever hiding spot. But not clever enough." He grasped his lapels and rocked back on his heels, a smug grin creasing his face.