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  “Your concern is unnecessary. He’s as gentle as a lamb.” He lifted her gloved hand, and placed a kiss on her fingertips. “As am I, my lady.”

  From somewhere behind her, a familiar voice said, “Sinclair.” Sinclair nodded his greeting to the man her heart wanted above all others.

  “Camden,” Sinclair returned, still holding Elise’s free hand.

  Turning to Elise, Michael said, “I’ve been asked, by your brother, to look in on your well-being. Are you having a good time, my lady?”

  Elise could hardly breathe. How could he expect an answer from her? Withdrawing her hand from Sinclair’s grasp, she smiled up at Michael. “Of course, I am. Tell His Grace he needn’t worry.”

  “He’ll be greatly relieved.” Michael continued to stand guard over Elise, causing Sinclair to shift nervously in his midst.

  When Beverly and her dance partner returned, Sir Terrence greeted Michael and left to get the ladies some punch. Sinclair remained at Elise’s right, Michael on her left. Beverly and another young lady whose name Elise couldn’t remember struck up a conversation next to Michael. For several long minutes, an awkward silence fell over Elise and the two men. She downed her champagne and placed the empty flute on a passing tray.

  The musicians began the strains of a waltz and as a crowd of more dancers headed to the already packed floor, Michael moved to in front of her and bowed. Elise wasn’t expecting a dance with him. Last night was an uncommon occurrence as he’d rescued her from an unwanted dance partner. Her heart began to race at the thought he’d ask her again. Heaven help her, but Lady Richard would think she was corrupting her son.

  “Would you care to take a stroll around the room, Lady Elise?”

  Forgetting that Sinclair stood next to her, she lifted a trembling hand and took Michael’s extended one. They hooked arms and he placed hers on his forearm, then rested his other over the top. The warmth from his hand seeped through his glove and hers, calming her nerves.

  This man always evoked the most pleasant sensations in her.

  She glanced over at him as they strolled around the edge of the room. He was handsomely attired, as always, in his black trousers and coat. As he always wore black, much like her brother, the markings of his mourning were not plainly visible. She noted his polished gold buttons had been exchanged for the onyx ones, and he wore the black velvet armband over his sateen coat sleeve. His snowy white cravat was tied in an intricate knot, with an onyx pin held the creation in place.

  He looked wonderful. And miserable.

  She wondered if men ever felt trussed-up like the proverbial Christmas goose, as women often did. As she herself usually did.

  His hand purposefully over hers, Michael led her straight through the crush of people, to the far side of the room and away from Sinclair’s prying eyes. He didn’t stop until he’d taken her through the open doors leading to the veranda.

  “Where... are you... taking me?” she stammered, confused at his actions. “We’ll be missed.”

  “Not in that crowd.” He turned a corner and kept going, dragging her along, past other privacy-seeking couples, until he found a secluded area between doors that seemed to satisfy him. When he turned to her, his hazel eyes glowed with what she thought was anger. For the life of her she couldn’t understand what she’d done to cause his upset with her.

  Even though he was beautiful when he was mad, she much preferred his smiles and sweet words to this darker emotion. The color in his cheek and the taught set to his chin made her want to reach out and touch him, to smooth the worry away, though to do so publicly might encourage his wrath.

  “Did I do something to displease you, my lord?” she asked. “You appear angry. Is it with me?”

  He seemed to struggle with his emotion and words before he spoke, and when he did they were clipped and tense. “Do you always drink your champagne so quickly. Do you not understand what alcohol does to a woman’s inhibitions?”

  “It was one tiny flute, Michael, and it was flat. It could hardly cause loosened inhibitions, could it?” She turned to walk away from him, but his hand snaked out to grasp hers.

  “Have a care not to let the likes of Sinclair monopolize so much of your time. You’ll drive away other, better-suited admirers and perhaps taint yourself with a reputation which you’ll not find easily erased.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  He appeared to consider his words before speaking. “Just that men know things about other men, that are best not mentioned in front of ladies.”

  “Oh, he seems harmless enough,” she replied in all honesty. “He’s been most kind, and attentive.”

  “Mark my words, Elise, he is not the sort with whom you’ll want your name attached.”

  “Thank you for your warning.” She turned to re-enter the room before anyone noticed she was gone. “But I’m able to choose my own friends.”

  He grasped her wrist, stopping her. His hazel eyes cold and possessive. “I thought you said you didn’t enjoy his company?”

  “That was last night. I find tonight’s reaction to him rather the opposite.” She lifted her hand and began to tick off her reasons on her fingers for Michael’s benefit. “Firstly, he isn’t at all bad looking, and I thought so last night as well. Secondly, he does not treat me as a child to be reprimanded for some imagined slight.” She met his leveled gaze. “And thirdly, he listens to me and my ideas regarding education reform. We discuss topics that interest us both. Topics outside the latest fashions and gossip. And arguments.” The last was added specifically to remind him of his annoying habit of taking her words and making them weapons in his squabbles with her.

  “So you see, much as it pains me to admit I might have been mistaken, I believe I may have been with regard to Mr. Sinclair.” Her voice sounded odd to her own ears, tinged with regret.

  Without ever laying a hand on her he turned her, pinning her against the facade between the open doors of Lord Everly’s library. His great mass had pushed her until she felt the cool stone wall behind her. His eyes now sparked with an angry fire, pinning her more effectively than had he physically restrained her. Something flashed in those eyes, an emotion she’d not realized he held toward her until now.

  Jealousy.

  Her heart raced then leaped as she recognized it. Her breathing became shallower then stopped as he leaned toward her, his lips coming dangerously close to her own. Her whole being shivered in anticipation when she realized he intended to kiss her. Unconsciously she licked her lips.

  But instead of pressing his lips against hers, he leaned in close and whispered into her ear, “I will only say this once more, Elise. Be wary of Sinclair. He’s in desperate straits and is in need of the biggest fortune he can land. And you outrank him, so on both those accounts, I know your brother will not approve his suit.”

  Frustrated with his teasing actions, she felt compelled to remind Lord Camden that he held no power over her. “My brother has said I could marry for love Michael, and I will. I care not for a title and my wealth can sustain myself and whomever I choose as husband comfortably for the rest of our lives.”

  “Not if the man you choose is a bad gambler, or a man already mortgaged to his teeth to the cent-per-centers,” he hissed.

  Finished with his vituperative warning, he lingered where he stood, so close to her his nearness caused her pulse to gallop unchecked. Elise trembled. In anger? Or excitement?

  “Have you ever been kissed, Elise?” His voice sounded raspy as he whispered next to her ear.

  She couldn’t trust herself to speak, afraid she might say something to break the moment’s magic. He had to know she’d never been so intimate with a man. Kissed? She’d long prayed for the day he gave her her first kiss.

  “I thought not,” he said raggedly, lifting his gaze from her lips to meet hers. “I shouldn’t do this.” His lips were so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “But I can’t help myself.”

  Michael’s lips grazed hers, l
ightly at first, then more firm. He slanted his mouth on hers, moving over her softness. One hand on either side of her head, effectively pinning her beneath him, he coaxed her with the gentle touch of his tongue, to open for him, and she did, not knowing the impact her sweet innocence had on him.

  All at once, he wanted to both give and take. He wanted to plunder and conquer, while pleasuring and loving. He wanted to mark her as his, yet at the same time encourage her adventurous soul.

  He lifted his mouth to take a steadying breath. Mistake. Reality slammed into him when she uttered one word.

  “Again?”

  He stared at her, with what he was sure must have been a look of complete and unequivocal amazement. Why was he doing this? Virginal misses fresh-to-market were to be avoided at all costs. And most especially this virginal miss! Good God, she was Ren’s sister. The termagant whose infatuation of him these many years had been the bane of his youth.

  She must have mistaken his expression because she ducked under his arm and started to run. He caught her easily, turning her to face him, and for the first time since her father and stepmother died, he thought he saw a tear perched on the hellion’s lower lash, and he was the cause for it. He’d upset her when that was not his intent.

  God help him, he didn’t even know what his intent was.

  “I’m sorry for that,” she whispered, her eyes downcast. “I am trying to change. Every moment of every day I have to remind myself that I must behave like the lady everyone wants me to be rather than the person I am.”

  “It’s I who must apologize. I knew better and yet I still kissed you.”

  She lifted her head, and her eyes widened as realization dawned on her and she laughed heartily. Quickly catching herself before others began to stare at them, she dropped her voice. “By God, you’re right!” she whispered, “I’m not the one at fault. It is you who knew I was untried, and you kissed me anyway. That being the case, I must thank you for that first lesson. Now I shall have to practice my new skill often so as to become more proficient because you obviously found me lacking.” Slipping from his grasp, she strode into ball room just as the dance ended, looking to all who watched like a couple finishing a dance.

  When they reached her group of friends, Michael leaned toward her and whispered for only her ears, “You were not... lacking, I promise.” He looked around to see if anyone paid them any attention, when he thought it clear, he whispered in her ear, “Practice with anyone but me, and I shall have to take you over my knee, little minx.” With that warning made clear to her, he quit the room and rejoined the men below. He suddenly felt like throwing some darts.

  Michael didn’t understand what was happening between them, or why he’d done what he had. He only knew that kissing Elise felt right. And it scared the wits out of him.

  Her Grace would later impart to her husband in the privacy of their bedchamber, that his sister had a wonderful time dancing with many beaus. When he asked if she thought there might be anyone who met the criteria he set for a possible suitor to his sister, the duchess replied, her brown eyes dancing with merriment, “I believe so. Yes.”

  Of course when asked who the man was, the duchess apologized to her husband, explaining she feared revealing his name might jinx a possible budding romance.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The next morning, Michael strode up the steps of Caversham House with renewed determination, especially since crossing paths with Sinclair on the footpath in front of the duke’s residence. Last evening he’d decided to use every resource at his disposal to prevent the likes of him ever winning Elise’s hand. Admittedly, he hadn’t known the man until two nights ago, though the name had sounded familiar. His initial feelings of unease grew into deep concern once he remembered where he’d heard of Sinclair.

  Now, with the information he had, he was sure Ren would see the risk of allowing the degenerate anywhere near her.

  Niles took his hat and cloak, Michael thanked him, then inquired, “Is His Grace in his office?” At the servant’s nod, he said, “I’ll see myself in.”

  He found his friend seated behind his desk, chin resting on his twined fingers, contemplating some matter of grave import. If it was what Michael thought, he thanked the heavens he’d arrived when he did.

  Ren’s gray-eyed gaze looked weary. “Did you see who just left?”

  Lips tight, he gave his friend a curt nod. “May I ask what he wanted?”

  “Permission to court my sister.”

  He gave a sardonic little laugh before replying. “Then you might be interested in what I’ve learned about the man.”

  “I know he’s in debt up to his ears and needs to wed an heiress. He confessed as much only a moment ago. But he’s smitten with her he says, and is under the impression that Elise is agreeable to his suit. Because I’ve told her I would consider a love match, provided it were with the right man, I feel obligated to find out what her feelings are regarding Sinclair.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That I would think on it. In the meantime, he plans to return later today to take her for a ride in the park.” Ren leaned back in his chair, throwing his booted feet onto the corner of his desk. “So, what did you learn?”

  “After you hear what I’m about to tell you,” Michael began, “you’ll not allow Sinclair anywhere near her.” He brought a chair to the side of the desk and sat. “As you’ve said, he’s in debt to the usual tradesmen, has no land of his own, and has quite a few vowels with some pretty disreputable money-lenders. But that’s not the worst of it.”

  His friend’s gray eyes turned cold, as he grew alert to another possible threat. “Go on.”

  “Have you ever heard of Dominatus Rex?”

  The duke quirked a brow filled with serious concern. “No. What about it?”

  “They’re a group of men, mostly younger sons, from some of the best families.” He shook his head in dismay, remembering how revolted he was when he’d first read the reports from the investigations of previous cases in which these men were involved. He knew Ren would want to keep his sister safe from them. Hell, he would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe from their kind.

  Michael continued. “They are young men with all the benefits of a gentile upbringing. Yet they practice cruelty on young women to achieve sexual gratification. Their most obvious crime is rape, but they do not exclude torture. Their preferred victims are virgins, and it is not unusual that the girls are shared among the guests at weeks-long elaborate orgies held in the country. It is important to note that the girls they choose are never willing, to these degenerates it’s the fight that arouses them. So they seek strong-willed, independent-minded young women.”

  Ren removed his feet from his desk and sat upright. “Is Sinclair affiliated with them in any way?”

  “He’s a member. But I don’t consider that the worst part.”

  His friend shot out of his chair. “Not the worst part!” Ren began to pace the room. “Tell me everything you know about him.”

  “There was a case a couple of years ago—you may have been away at the time—where Sinclair was betrothed to the eldest daughter of a well-off merchant, the contracts were signed, the dowry had been settled on him, and it looked like the happy couple were about to wed. The date was set, they’d started reading the banns and such.” Michael rose and poured himself a cup of coffee as he watched his friend wear a path in the carpet. The attorney in him took over, speaking dispassionately of the facts, yet angered that nothing could be done to the guilty party.

  “Here’s where the story gets strange. A colleague of mine was contacted by the father of the bride-to-be a week before the wedding. He wanted Sinclair investigated because his daughter started behaving oddly. Where initially the young lady had not feared Sinclair, and was a happy, blushing bride-to-be, she now deeply feared her betrothed. She begged her father not to be forced to marry Sinclair. Upon questioning the young lady, my colleague discovered Sinclair had violated the girl terribly. It
seemed that after using her for his own pleasure, Sinclair had ordered the young lady to pleasure his friends as well, while he watched. He threatened to take the lady’s younger sister and use her in a similar fashion in order to gain the bride-to-be’s continued cooperation.

  “When Sinclair got wind of the investigation, he arranged to have witnesses walk in on his bride-to-be and another man. He said the girl lied about his part in the tale she told. Sinclair then cried off the marriage and by law was allowed to keep the girl’s quite sizable dowry.”

  “The bloody cur,” Ren swore.

  “With men such as he, pleasure comes from the domination—taking away the independence and spirit of the woman. I’m sure that’s what attracted him to Elise in the first place. Lord knows she’s got both in abundance. His need for funds and her considerable dowry and inheritance make her an even more appealing target.”

  While he sipped his coffee, Michael swore to himself that he would not allow Sinclair or any of his ilk near Elise, whether his own relationship with her went anywhere or not. She was special to him, even if only as Ren’s sister, though last night’s kiss had perhaps upset what was an amiable relationship with Elise in his mind. Now there were a myriad of confusing emotions running through his head regarding this little minx, but he couldn’t focus on any of them until the threat from Sinclair was resolved.

  “He obviously went through those funds quick enough.” Ren paused at the window, staring onto the street. “He must need to refill his coffers. I’ll be damned if he’ll do so at my sister’s expense. I don’t want him near her, Michael, and shall tell him as much. If he so much as comes into the same room as she, he’ll find himself considering one-way passage to Australia.”

  “I knew you’d feel the same as I do. Now we have to convince your sister that she’s not to encourage him in any way.”

  “I hope Sinclair isn’t who Lia meant when she said Elise might have someone in mind already.”

  Michael’s eyes grew wide. “She said that? Really?”