The 12th Kiss

The 12th Kiss by Laura Hogg

Wings ePress, Inc www.wings-press.com

Copyright ©2007 by Laura N. Hogg First published in 2007, 2007 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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The 12th Kiss "That is not a fair statement. Leafy is a beautiful woman. She must be careful." "I agree." "You should understand, Cheltham." "I do. Where do you come from exactly?" "New York, like my family." "How old are you?" "Nineteen." Raphael dropped his gaze. "Interesting. The same age as Miss Moore. You resemble her mildly. Are you her cousin?" He lowered his head, trying to get a closer look at his friend. Raphael scooted to the far corner of the seat. The Viscount couldn't get a good look in the dark anyway. "Let's talk about something else. Where are we going?" "To fight crime, lad." Raphael's face lit up, from what he could tell. "Good. I am very well pleased to hear that." "To the back slums. We will not use a weapon unless the situation turns dire." Raphael grinned. "Something to prove, Cheltham?" "Only to ourselves, my friend. So nothing but a bunch of fives tonight unless our lives depend on the use of more!" he stated, smiling and throwing up his fist. "I have a change of clothes here." When they arrived on the boisterous streets filled with the effluvium of city life, the smoke, urine, and various other 3

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indefinable scents, they stepped out and began to walk. It started to sprinkle rain. Raphael stuck his tongue way out of his mouth and closed his eyes. He stretched out his hands, waving his fingers. "Raphael?" "The raindrops are little bits of life itself, and I want to feel them on an intimate level." He opened his eyes and spun around exuberantly. Lord Cheltham faced his friend, smiling widely. "What are you doing, lad?" "Ah, Cheltham, I am enjoying the dog's soup!" "The what?" He laughed. "The rain water, you deuced lord. You need to walk out a little farther from your fancy townhouse once in a while." "That's why I accompany you, my good boy! It seems I have much to learn. Dog's soup, that's bloody funny!"

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The 12th Kiss by Laura Hogg

Wings The 12th Kiss by Laura N. Hogg A Wings ePress, Inc. Regency Historical Novel

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The 12th Kiss by Laura Hogg

Wings ePress, Inc. Edited by: Rosalie Franklin Copy Edited by: Leslie Hodges Senior Editor: Leslie Hodges Executive Editor: Lorraine Stephens Cover Artist: Richard Stroud All rights reserved Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Wings ePress Books www.wings-press.com 6

The 12th Kiss by Laura Hogg

Copyright © 2007 by Laura N. Hogg ISBN 978-1-59705-191-0 Published In the United States Of America December 2007 Wings ePress Inc. 403 Wallace Court Richmond, KY 40475

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Dedication The angel Raphael, my daughter Caitlin, my husband Michael, my parents, sisters, and friends in the RWC critique group who helped me to polish up the novel.

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One London 1820 "I'll kill you. You have undertaken a despicable action that you must pay for," the highwayman vowed in frosty tones. He glared at The Viscount Cheltham through tapering icy-black eyes above an ebony silk wrap that masked the remainder of his face. "Troublesome Viscount..." Sitting sideways in his traveling chariot with the door open, Lord Cheltham faced the highwayman from three feet away. His lordship was tired and had hoped he and his sister could finish this last leg of their journey as quickly as possible. He rubbed his eyes then viewed the unlawful man from a haughty, exasperated point of view. Their captor did not resemble the typical sort of road criminal clad in tattered clothes as if he belonged to the night. Instead he sat tall on his gray horse dressed well in buckskin breeches over an expensive pair of boots. A well-cut coat of very fine cloth topped off his attire. Lord Cheltham's eyes narrowed, searching his captor's eyes for a clue to his motivations and to what he referred. At first he wondered if he had met him before, but on scrutinizing the man, he counted him a stranger. "This is most ungentlemanly. Do me the honor of a duel, and at the very least, tell me who you are." "Prepare to die," the highwayman spouted with dismissal. "Allow me my last goodbye in private," the Viscount's sister intruded. 9

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Lord Cheltham shot her a look over his shoulder. Dark curls fell next to her blushing cheeks, and she clutched the ends of her cream and pink-colored cashmere shawl with trembling hands. Her eyes glistened with tears threatening to spill from her large eyes. "No." The highwayman laughed. Recoiling from the sound of bitter, mocking tones in response to his sister's inquiry, the Viscount flashed his gaze back to the cold gray metal of the double barrel flintlock directed at his chest. The lead ball would tear from it, a tiny puff of sulfur-smelling smoke would burst forth, a moment of agony would ensue, and then he'd be dead. But what would become of Joan? Would the scoundrel kill her next? He stole another quick peek at his young sister who cringed on the seat of the carriage. She didn't deserve his fate. His thoughts raced treacherously. He could lunge at the man and wrench the gun from his rapacious grasp, render him unconsciousness, and take him straight to the authorities. The reprobate measured them, sitting there in his arrogance. "He'll soon be amongst the angels. Then you can join him; though I might be persuaded to spare you, Miss." A lustful gloating colored his eyes. Pride and disgust burned in the Viscount's chest as he stared down the ridiculously overdressed man of the streets. For surely none of the peerage would conduct himself this way. Clothed as a man of his superior class, finely, from his aristocratic glossy Hessian boots to his carefully arranged 10

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cravat, the Viscount sat up straighter, reached back, and pressed his sister's arm in comfort. His eyes lifted from the dark metal in their faces to the man who'd uttered the dreaded words, "Stand and deliver," mere moments before. He had struck their driver on the back of his head with the butt of his weapon, leaving him senseless. Joan had flung the thief her reticule, and Lord Cheltham had given him a pouch containing the rest of their traveling money. The highwayman put it in a bag strapped onto his horse. Too bad he didn't leave but remained, intending to commit murder. "I promise you, sir, you will pay for choosing our coach to apprehend," his lordship said. Dusk began to fall, casting shadows of varying degrees of gray over their travel-weary bodies. "Brother..." She leaned into him, gripping his arm. "Joan, be quiet." The aristocratically dressed scoundrel lifted his hand a couple of inches in preparation. Lord Cheltham gave a cursory look at the unmoving coachman, slumped forward over his horse, then to the servant on the outside bench in the back, who remained motionless, soundless, and pale-faced. His lordship returned his gaze to the evildoer and raised his arms. "I concede." Their captor lowered his shoulders as if he could now count on no resistance. A frosty mist began to slither up all around them, camouflaging the view of their would-be killer. Joan swore under her breath, and Lord Cheltham lifted a brow. The muted landscape offered no comfort in these lusterless seconds. 11

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Lord Cheltham stole a chance and lurched forward. Catching the villain off guard, the man's horse reared and threw him. Both men landed with a thud, and they tussled, exchanging blow for blow, clashing and colliding until the land pirate scrambled and stretched his hand, and clutched his weapon once again. Whipping around with his weapon in his hand, he sneered, his hair loose and his clothes soiled and torn in various places. The Viscount froze on the spot. Before he knew what was happening, the miscreant scrambled to his feet and ran, his horse having taken off in the other direction. Rumbling, pounding horse hooves stamped the ground, throwing up clouds of dust in their wake as a long-haired young man charged down the road shouting, "There you are!" and chased him into an expanse of woodland several yards off. Darkness cascaded onto the land and swallowed up the white flash of the rescuer's horse. Baffled, the Viscount stood, blinked, and rubbed his eyes. Their liberator made his way back only moments later, and above the main road to London streaks of moonlight and stars glittered, speckling the sky. The Viscount, overtaken with intrigue, stared at the boy cantering up on his horse. The strange lad dressed as a street-urchin in clothes unfit for the middle class. The Viscount stood scratching his head in bewilderment. The scruffy fellow approached him and with great charm, then jumped to the ground. Lord Cheltham lengthened his posture as he took in the sight of this greasy-haired young chap in breeches that had seen Old King George's day. He 12

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wore a rough linen shirt and worn workman's boots, and had an eye-patch over one eye and a loose strain of hair hanging over the other. He brushed it aside, but it fell back out of place. A dirt smudge slashed his left cheek. "Where did you procure the horse?" Lord Cheltham asked. His rescuer laughed. It sounded practiced. "You are most welcome." "For what?" The younger of the two, the hero of the hour, lifted his brow and rested his hands on his narrow hips. "For saving you, that's what." He scowled in a playful way. "I had control." "Obviously, my lord, you had the situation well in hand." The saucy boy smirked. Lord Cheltham couldn't stop his lips from curling into a most entertained grin. Joan poked her head out of the carriage. "What humor do you find in this?" The scruffy one bowed in an almost mocking way. "My lady." Joan presented him with supercilious look. "Who are you?" "Oh, I'm only a concerned citizen from New York." "You're a colonist!" The boy laughed again, this time in an authentic and amused way. It was a freer expression than before, and his shoulders shook with the effort. "Perhaps four and forty years past I should have been called so!" "Why are you come to London?" 13

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"I'm here on business." "What sort of business?" "The business of saving citizens such as you, my lady. You are curious. I'm usually not approached with so many questions." Joan's brow lifted. "I do not make a habit of asking strange boys such things, but I must know because I have never seen anyone display such bottom for the sake of strangers. It's odd. Why are you here? Be honest if you would be so kind." Lord Cheltham raised his brows, amazed at his sister's boldness. She was of a noble family! The boy looked at him then toward the front of the carriage. "Your driver—" Lord Cheltham followed his rescuer's gaze. "He stirs," he said with more than a tiny bit of relief. Their eyes met again. "I come for the sake of—" "What?" "I'm connected to the Moore family," replied the lad, smiling. Lord Cheltham grinned, impressed. "You mean the Moores of New York's high society, of real estate fortune?" "Yes." "I know of them." He cleared his throat. "They have a beautiful daughter." He paced a step then considered the courageous boy. "Do you speak of Miss Relief Moore or Miss Honora?" The lad squinted and scratched his cheek. "Miss Relief Moore," the Viscount answered. 14

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A frown crossed the features of the young one, perhaps because he no longer cared to discuss the subject. "Now that you are safe, my lord..." The Viscount winced with the sting of stepped-on pride. Standing two feet from the carriage's side, he gazed at the boy suspiciously. "How is it that a guttersnipe such as you could know the Moore family?" "You arrogant fool!" he responded, hands fisted and chin lifted. The boy has a temper, the Viscount thought. "I know them in a way you never will, for you should have not a doubt on that score!" The American spat out the words then scoffed. He paced a step. His horse fidgeted and snickered. "I would have overcome the man without you." Mockery smoldered in Lord Cheltham's heart. He crossed his hands together and stretched his fingers before resting them at his sides again. "I own that is hardly likely." The boy reached up to pet his horse's mane with deliberate strokes. He winced as peals of laughter pierced the air to tease him, and he shook his greasy head. "You ungrateful—" Lord Cheltham stopped laughing and squinted. He wanted to pull out a handkerchief and vigorously scrub the lad's dirty face, so he could see him better. He suspected that he might be a handsome boy.

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"Tell me, boy, how did you acquire the horse? Did you borrow it from your master? Are you a chimney sweep or a stable boy? What do you do?" "First of all, Your Grace—" "Ah, now it's 'Your Grace.' I am no duke. I am a Viscount." "Very well, your great lordship, I have no master. I never will. I am hardy and independent, an American, you will recall, and determined. I would kindly ask that you refrain from mocking me further. It angers me a trifle. Now, pray excuse me, someone is expecting me." The boy turned to leave. "Wait." Lord Cheltham chuckled and lifted his hands in a friendly gesture. "I wouldn't want to set to fire a little quicktempered lad like you. Stay a moment longer. You are more amusing than any acquaintance I have." "Go to the devil." The young American scowled. "It's just that you're not a very big man." It was as if a sharp object had gouged the Viscount's pride, and he wanted to remedy that before he would see the American boy leave his presence. "What does size have to do with anything? Are you interested in a fight? I saved your life!" He spit to his side in the dirt and brought an angry face to the Viscount. Lord Cheltham chuckled. The events of this night and now the allayment from surviving put him in a most free-spirited mood, uninhibited. In an instant the boy leaped and had him on the ground with his foot on his chest. Lord Cheltham blinked in surprise. He was a sportsman and knew how to fight. 16

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"How did you do that?" Joan stared in wonder. She grasped the door of the carriage. The boy grinned. "I told you I'm no weakling." "I regret my previous comments. I beg you, sir, allow me my dignity." "Why, pray tell, should I?" He elevated his chin in a haughty way and clenched his jaw. "You should because I wish to offer an apology," the Viscount said. The boy released him, and he stood up and dusted himself off before offering his hand. "I ought to be obliged to you. What is your name, my coloni—my American friend?" The boy opened his mouth but hesitated. "You do have a name, do you not?" "Yes. It's Raphael. Raphael Taylor." The young one squeezed his hand. "It's a pleasure, sir." Lord Cheltham frowned. An unexplainable tingle ran down his back. "And you?" He removed his hand from Raphael's, disturbed at the feelings awakened in him. A spark of attraction shocked him and was most unwelcome. He wanted to grab the lad's hand again. He blinked in self-disgust. "I'm Lord Cheltham, and this is my sister Miss Joan Wright." Joan tossed off a quick nod, not saying anything. "Also a pleasure." Raphael smirked as if he'd expected the rude behavior. 17

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The Viscount grinned shaking off his strange sensations. What odd power did this stranger possess? He swallowed, wanting to stay in Raphael's presence as long as possible. Raphael eyed him. "Perhaps I will see you at the opera." "Perhaps." He shrugged, smiling. "Relief Moore enjoys it to a large degree," Raphael said. "What an odd name, or so I have always thought," he muttered. "It's a fine American name." "She is so beautiful that I don't care if she's a bloody American," Lord Cheltham spilled out. Raphael placed his small fists on his hips once again. "Do not refer to her that way, my lord," he said in angry tones. "Why? Just how well are you acquainted with Miss Moore?" "I call her Leafy." Both the Viscount and his sister fell into a bout of laughter once again. "Leafy? Good Lord! That passes all bounds to be sure!" he managed between chuckles. "You two have a most unfortunate habit of laughing far too often! Give your tongues a holiday. Her name is Relief. Her friends and family call her Leafy. It makes sense, damn you!" Raphael stamped his foot. "Leafy!" The Viscount shook his head. Raphael scoffed and set his hands upon his horse to mount, but paused. "I shall remove myself now from your impertinent presence!" "Wait. I offer my apologies. You're right. She is too lovely to laugh at. I have a high regard for her. Pray understand; it was mention of the unusual name." 18

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"Your behavior would offend her. She would never find herself in amiable establishment with a sarcastic, selfimportant man such as you. You appear more the Viking of days of old than a nobleman, my lord, with your ashy-blond hair and tall stature, despite your greatcoat and Hessians. I imagine you on a ship from Norway on your way to battle with a sword and shield in your hand or perhaps an ax." The Viscount frowned. "What's amiss with my appearance? I am quite the gentleman, and dashing. Women flock to me!" Raphael rolled his eyes, but the feelings behind the expression seemed to melt. "How charming that is. I'm sure you have plenty of left-handed wives, my lord, concubines abounding." Raphael grinned without warning, scanning him up and down as if admiring the tall, strongly-built man before looking the Viscount in the eyes with the sudden confidence of a warrior. The Viscount wondered at the change in the boy. "Are you one of Miss Moore's associates, then?" "Why do you ask?" "I believe you would be. You could not be family, a protector perhaps. I want to know her." Lord Cheltham was serious. Raphael jeered at him, seeming to hide a smug secret, and his brow lifted a tiny bit as if he were struggling to contain a wicked grin. "Really? Why?" Lord Cheltham spoke in lower tones now, his heart beating rapidly with thoughts of holding Miss Moore. "I have my 19

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reasons." Liveliness rushed over him whenever he brought her to mind. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I doubt your reasons would be to Relief's advantage." Raphael patted his horse's neck. The Viscount smiled. He knew he was very attractive, and he believed this would capture Relief's interest. Proudly, he spoke. "The blame is not my own. Hold my parents accountable for producing such an exquisite son." "I work for Miss Moore, but I am not prepared to give the office on that matter." Raphael looked over at Joan through the open coach door, as did the Viscount. Her chin rested on her chest, and her eyes were closed. "I'm going to know Miss Moore." He turned back to Raphael, who gazed back at him. Raphael twitched his jaw. "My lord, you are mistaken there. She's also independent, even for a woman. She's proud, and perhaps a bit vain. I am well acquainted with her." "I see." He grinned with confident smugness and gestured with open arms, dropped his hands and then shrugged. "It seems we have qualities in common." Raphael frowned down at him. There was something odd about this boy. He wanted to talk with him longer; exhilaration rushed through his veins. "Tomorrow come never; you'll not have her. You'll not appeal to her sensibilities. She has unusual taste in gentlemen." "You know Miss Moore well?" "Yes." 20

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A shot of irritation coursed through him. He wanted Raphael to elaborate. "I have not been able to procure a meeting with her in several months. In truth, I have visited New York more than once, fascinated with her from the start. Perhaps you could—" He inclined his head. "I have wanted to pay court to her since then. It was an instant reaction to her." He chided himself for not applying to her father. Raphael's eyes were glued to his with his great interest. The Viscount continued. "One day I saw her standing beside three devilishly proud-looking New Yorkers—" Raphael's lips turned up at one corner. He seemed to agree with that assessment of the men. "Those were her brothers and father. She dreamed of discovering England. They allowed her to take temporary residence in London with her brother and sister accompanying her. They also brought along an old neighbor, Mrs. Miller, really as a matter of charity." Happy surprise lit him up. She was in London now! "I should understand the protection." "Also, there is a mystery to be solved." "A mystery?" "Yes, my lord. Her uncle's pink diamond was stolen, and she believes—" He stopped abruptly and bent his head to study his feet. "Sir?" "I have said too much." His gaze came up. The Viscount considered him and decided not to press the issue. A groan snatched their attention, and they glanced at the driver who was rubbing his head. 21

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Visions of the lovely heiress Miss Moore filled Lord Cheltham's mind. His heart pinched with strong desire to know her. He'd never before been so intrigued with a woman. Lord Cheltham turned back to the American boy whose hand ran smoothly down the horse's mane. "When I saw her at that convention in New York, she seemed to gazed at me over people across a room. I do hope she was drawn to me," Lord Cheltham said. He remembered how his ideal woman had looked into his eyes, reached for him, promised to rescue him from what had haunted his soul for the past decade. Raphael shifted from one small foot to the other. "Are you certain she gazed upon you, my lord?" "With sad, longing eyes before her angry brother put his large, protective arm across her. She sighed in disappointment. I saw it. She wanted to meet me." Raphael lowered his head a notch but not his eyes, regarding him with deliberate intention. "Something weighs upon you," the boy said with uncanny accuracy. The Viscount wondered about his chances with Miss Moore. Why would Relief feel for a stranger? Why does my heart tell me only I can help her? What I have done in the past and what I have done to make up for it taught me more than I should know at my twenty years. "I have learned to live with what troubles me," Lord Cheltham finished as sudden blackness shrouded his heart, making it heavy.

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Two The boy cast a glance inside the carriage. "Your sister has gone to the lovely land of nod, my lord. I fancy she is skipping along the fields of green, plucking more than a few blooms." "What?" He chuckled. He followed the direction of the boy's glance. Joan's eyes remained closed. "I believe she may be feigning, perhaps hinting we should quit this place." "I think your sister is drooling," the boy teased. Lord Cheltham grinned. "She can be convincing." The tiniest grin rested on Joan's lips, and a small snoring sound escaped. "Yes, the hour grows late, Joan." Lord Cheltham smiled in a good-natured manner. He turned to the boy standing before him, drawn to him in a way he couldn't quite explain. He was enjoying their chat. "Did you kill that highwayman?" The Viscount knit his brows, now serious. Raphael had been glancing at his feet. Suddenly lashes a bit heavy for a young man flew up in surprise. The Viscount gasped, noticing this. What is it about this boy? He wondered. A disturbing knot formed in the pit of his stomach. "No. We fought. I hammered him in the grubbery." Raphael sliced the air with one fist. "When I lifted my arm to 23

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hit him with the intention of knocking him insensible, he hit me." His cheeks turned red with this last comment. "Where?" The Viscount scanned him, head to toe; then to his complete surprise, visions of the lovely Miss Moore flooded his mind. Raphael was Miss Moore's approximate height. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest now, regarding the Viscount sternly. In the Viscount's vision of Miss Moore, she smiled, and feminine essence flowed from her. "In the ... upper regions," the boy mumbled. "What?" Lord Cheltham said then chuckled, shaken from his dream. "In your head?" "Lower." First confusion and then amazement surged through him as he realized Raphael was referring to his chest. Lord Cheltham laughed inwardly, thinking that maybe the boy was not as tough as he tried to sound. "I see," he said with the most reasonable voice that he could produce. He watched Raphael for an extended moment. Miss Moore's smiling face intruded happily in his thoughts again. Raphael's gaze narrowed. The Viscount suppressed a smile. "Could you arrange a meeting between Miss Moore and me?" He rested his hands on his hips. Raphael raised a brow. "You speak of her again?" "Yes," Lord Cheltham muttered. "Your presence, for whatever reason, brings her strongly to mind." 24

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Raphael shifted from one foot to the other. "My lord, perhaps if you met publicly first..." Lord Cheltham sighed and thought, She is going to save me. Raphael's lip quivered and formed into a smile. "After the opera tomorrow, I'll meet you in front of the theater. She will be attending the performance. We can discuss the matter," Raphael said. Lord Cheltham's heart sang with gladness. "Permit me a few minutes after the curtain is drawn," Raphael added. "Thank you. Give my regard to Miss Moore, will you be so kind?" "I'll warn her of you and your conceit." "Pray, good sir, do not give a negative account of me." "Hmm." Raphael smirked. "I'm going to win over my lovely heiress. I must. So she's vain, but I don't care." He breathed out these last words. "And as for the women who swoon around you, that would never suit her." Raphael rolled his eyes and tossed his hand in the air sarcastically. "She would demand my full attention, Mr. Taylor?" "Your full devotion, my lord." "She wants to be put on a pedestal. How's a man like me to make room for her up there?" "You would have to figure it out. She's proud of the family she comes from." Lord Cheltham swallowed a scoff. "My family is titled, and hers is not." 25

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"I will tell Leafy you said so." "No! I beg you." He chuckled. "Say nothing at all." Raphael shrugged. "We'll see." "Until tomorrow." "My lord, now that you are tolerably safe, I may return to her." Lord Cheltham smiled, and hope surged through him as he watched Raphael jump upon the back of the fine white stallion and trot away. "Finally!" Joan snapped. "I was growing weary of the charade. You certainly took your leisure!" she said and rubbed the back of her neck. The Viscount offered his sister a smile of contentment. He glanced at the retreating Raphael; his heart teeming with admiration for the boy. The lad could ride, fight, and he was acquainted with the woman who stirred him powerfully. **** Once he was at home, he sat in his private office and thought of Miss Moore. He would search for the means to enter her life; the life of the one woman he feared would not so easily sink into the warmth of his embrace. He had a reputation with women and had told his friends about the American beauty that he intended to pursue. Typically his friends smiled, shook their heads, and congratulated him on his masculine prowess. Now it was finally time to seriously pursue her. He had read every article he could find on Miss Moore and her family and remembered how lovely she appeared in her 26

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white gown, standing next to the intimidating male members of her family. It was her one-sided smile that he loved so much, reflecting pleasure in her sparkling eyes. Those eyes and that smile promised adventure and passion. Oh, to forget all propriety, dash his way through the crowd, pull her into his arms, and kiss her. Sweet sighs would spill from her lips as he sunk his fingers into her hair and pressed his body into hers. Lord Cheltham's heart sped up just upon bringing her image to his mind. He fisted and unclenched his sweaty hands a couple of times and smiled as he thought of just being with her. Alone in his luxurious bed, he would lower her onto his thick blanket, slip her gown from her and love her more than he had ever loved a woman before. He would smile all the time, and his heart would be light. Somehow, he knew she would make him feel uninhibited. He liked her hair, longer than the latest fashion, from what he could discern. Most ladies wore their hair inches shorter than she did. Seeing her in America gave him the opportunity to see her locks down. He'd never seen that here except in the bedroom. Her hair shined with sandy-red highlights against the backdrop of rivers of dazzling brown, waves cascading over pale shoulders he longed to touch. Her smile was devastating. He had seen her in the convention room looking at something with the corners of her lips turned up. He followed her gaze to an open doorway and wondered what had caught her attention. Jealousy burned him that day and every time he thought of the episode, 27

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wondering if she had been dreaming of a man. He prayed not. He pressed his hands onto his desktop in front of him. An American, an exotic, intriguing American. I am obsessed with a lady from New York. He chuckled softly. No other woman had been able to wipe Miss Moore from his heart. He blinked back to the present, tense and flustered, and let out a slow breath, dying to meet her. **** "Leafy, it's ready." Her younger sister by one year, the eighteen-year-old Honora, handed Relief the silver bowl containing the cleanser. "Thank you." Relief smiled, liking the nickname her sister called her by, and accepted the froth. She scrubbed the grease from her hair with the beaten egg whites. While Honora sat on a Rosewood Chaise Lounge leaning against the scrolled upholstered arm reading the gazette, Leafy allowed the mixture on her head to dry then washed it out completely, rinsing it with a mixture of rum and rose-scented water. Next came the routine scrubbing of a rag roughly over her smooth skin to remove the makeup that detracted from her natural beauty. What a fine mood to be in now, after the oh-so-lovely encounter with the most self-important man ever! Honora handed her a soft towel. Leafy could still see the Viscount standing before her with his sarcastic smile and easy-going nature. Then she pictured a group of women sighing at his feet and gritted her teeth. 28

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"My thanks to a Lady of Distinction, and her Mirror of Graces for this glorious recipe!" Relief said, shaking her head, referring to the cleanser and brightener found in an etiquette book. "Arrogant Viscount," she mumbled as an afterthought. "What are you saying about a Viscount, Leafy?" Leafy cleared her throat. "His lordship believes he's going to pay court to Relief, uh, I mean me, Miss Relief Moore of New York! It matters not that he's nobility. We are American elites!" she stated, raising her tone aristocratically, "A part of high society and his equal. There are a hundred men Father might choose to tie me to, all of them worthy. Why should Lord Cheltham assume he could court me? He has a title, yes, but we have money and are known by more people in this world then he, I dare say!" She knew very well that his title gave him a distinct advantage above other suitors, but her pride dictated that she be pursued only by men who had eyes strictly for her. Or, as she saw it, her romantic nature demanded this. "I have not read his name in the papers recently," Honora offered, with smugness. She made an elegant gesture with her hand. Leafy rubbed the towel vigorously over her head. Honora smiled and clapped her hands. "He couldn't see that it was you!" "Perhaps, sister, but I hate that I have to let that vexing strand of hair fall over my eye when I am talking to people. And my dirt-smudged face!" She sighed. "Well, it helps that I practice lowering my voice so often." 29

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She bent down, leaning over in her Mahogany Armchair to touch her toes. "Notice the position of my diaphragm and the modulation of my voice as I speak." Honora dropped her gaze. "It lowers your tone." "Yes, this is an efficient way to practice." Leafy sat up and glanced over at her room full of costumes lying about and the various pieces of clothing that she had collected over the years. She scanned the ensemble of an adolescent boy she had recently worn. Pads were sewn into the shoulders and waist to give her a more masculine appearance. She stood up and walked a few steps. "Leafy?" Honora stepped close to her. "Your arms—" She held them out in a theatrical way. "What about my arms?" Leafy grinned. "You now walk with them closer to your body, and your head is lowered just a touch." Honora imitated her sister's mannerism. "I have to be convincing because men take up more room, Honora. They take bigger steps as well. The movement of the body and the gait is noticeable, but sometimes subtle. I have practiced the smallest details." Leafy demonstrated first the smaller more feminine steps, then the bigger masculine strides. "You have studied this well, Leafy." "You are a master with my makeup. Your fine work allowed me to study a would-be lover." 30

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"The Viscount was exceptional, Leafy?" Honora touched her shoulder. "Yes, Honora, he was tall, muscular, and deeply attractive. His closeness rendered my breathing shallower and made me breathe quicker. I felt strength coming from him. I liked the figure he cut in his well-tailored clothes and his sense of humor." She thought of how he carried himself elevated and sure with an easy confidence. She ran her hands down the sides of her gown. "He was very pleasant but incredibly self-important. Even if I wanted to, and perhaps I do, I would never give him the pleasure now. He admitted that women fall at his feet. Hah! Not this one! I do not appreciate it when a man expects to win my attention." She placed her hands on her hips. "What a shame, Leafy." Honora frowned. "What do you say about him having the pluck to announce that he's going to court me?" Honora laughed. "I dare say that is true arrogance." "Yes." "Or true love." Relief scoffed. "I cannot readily believe that. I can't imagine being leg-shackled to a swaggering nobleman. He believes he will use his title to buy me." She cursed under her breath. "I will never become accustomed to that." Honora paced a step, stopped, and looked at her sister. "To what, Honora?" Leafy narrowed her eyes, wondering to what she was referring. 31

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"You speak eight languages quite elegantly because of your other hobby, but yet I have heard you curse in all of them!" Relief took her sister's hand and squeezed. She chuckled. "I cannot take myself too seriously, in every regard, Honora. I might burst!" "I see your point. You have a temper, sister." She took a seat on the bed gazing at Leafy. "You are a driven woman, Leafy. "I love what I do." Admiration shone in her sister's green eyes. She studied her, appreciating Honora's golden hair, pulled up and back and curled. "I do hold in high regard knowing your secret and keeping it, Leafy. If people only knew that you are the one who goes about the evening helping others, they should be quite surprised. However, they should never suspect someone of your standing to do this. Ever." "Or someone so proud to be a Moore! My pastime is vastly amusing." Leafy lifted her chin with satisfaction. Honora stood and picked up the gazette that was resting on a little, tasteful table. She plopped down again and scanned the paper. "Here's a note on our family, Leafy, another large acquisition." Relief smiled. "Oh, look here." She pointed while scanning the words on the paper. "What is it, Honora?" 32

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"A mention of how a boy saved yet another would-be victim on the streets last month. The Town wonders who their secret hero is, Leafy! The people of the streets only produce the first name 'Raphael'." She chuckled. "Shh! Sister, you must swear to keep your silence upon the matter." She put her finger affectionately over her sister's lips then pulled it away. Honora looked at her, and a slight frown marred her features. "No husband would ever allow you to go about town saving the day, disguised as a boy!" "I shall never have a husband except by my own terms," she said and took a seat next to her sister. "I suppose not. Men are that way—always wanting to control females." Honora tapped her forearm, pondering things. Relief sighed. "I lay the odds that more than one man will try to push you into marriage." "Honora, will I ever find the man I could bend to my will, one that will allow me to continue my activities? Do you know any?" Honora offered a sweet smile and shook her head. "If only, Honora. As long as I can fight and ride a horse, I intend on having my little street adventures helping out poor souls, because I'm capable and because it allows me release." Honora paused then blurted out. "Fall into the Viscount's arms."

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"What?" she said shocked, her brows rose up, and her hands came to her hips. "No, Honora!" She stood up and dropped her arms. "You said that he's very handsome." "Yes. Good Lord, I cannot relieve my mind of his sarcastic smile! Blast him! His presence unnerved me more than his appearance. Do you understand? There is a bit of the hidden hero in him. I can picture him by my side, saving people in the night, but it's only a fantasy. He's a pampered lord. He would never in reality..." "I think I understand, Leafy." My heart sped up when I held his hand in mine, when I shook his hand. His touch sent quivers throughout my body, Relief thought. "Honora I don't know." "Try him. Perhaps you can draw him out." She grinned in a devilish way. Leafy paced a step then halted her movement to regard her sister in earnestness. "I do not want to be used. I want to be loved, and loved by a man who would not suppress me, if one exists. I may never find him, and it brings me much grief. Perhaps I endeavor at impossibilities." "Do you believe Lord Cheltham has hidden motives?" She fisted her hands. "His coach looked in need of repair, and it is publicly known that our family has millions." "I see." "And he can go to all his women. He will not have me, not as long as he is concerned about gaining the attention of so many women." Her lips turned downward in her disappointment. 34

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If only he longed for just me and didn't care about all those women, Relief's thoughts continued. "You seem adamant about that." Honora poured herself a glass of water from a pitcher that was resting on the side table. She gestured with the glass. Leafy shook her head, declining the water as her heart sunk over the handsome Viscount she wouldn't have. "Yes." "What a shame, Leafy." She stood up, put the glass down, and touched her sister's arm. Leafy gave her a weak smile. "You will have to dress me as the little street urchin quickly after the performance tomorrow. I promised to discuss the possibility of meeting Miss Moore with the Viscount." "Oh?" Honora raised her brow. "Yes." "I believe you agreed to see him again because you have a degree of affection for him, Leafy." "Honora?" "Yes?" She was vexed, trembling, and changed the direction of their conversation. "Something strange happened." "What is it?" Honora asked. "I saw him again." Her voice came out unsteady. "To whom do you refer?" Relief touched her chin with her fingertips. Honora gazed at her with great curiosity.

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"I refer to the man who follows me from city to city. I saw him after the last opera performance I attended. I thought he had given up on me." Honora touched her arm. "I wish he would. I know you can fight, Leafy, but still it causes me concern." She twitched her lips and picked up a silver brush running her fingers softly over the bristles. "Why?" She turned and looked into Honora's face. "Oh, Leafy, I never told you about the note." "What note?" "He approached me earlier today while you were out." She touched Leafy's shoulder. "What? He did not hurt you, did he?" She narrowed her eyes, and her chest moved faster with her increased breathing. "No, he just gave me the note." Honora's lower lip quivered. "What did it say?" The question came out with tremulous tones. "I don't want it to interfere with your peace." She looked down. "What did it say, Honora? I can best protect myself if I know." Relief lowered her head to try to meet her sister's gaze. Honora touched Leafy's hair and began combing it out gently. She used long, soft strokes as she ran the brush through her sister's soft brunette hair. "Leafy, it was a death threat." Relief inhaled sharply. 36

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"When our family arrives, Honora, could I expect that you won't tell Father about my evil pursuer? He will only become concerned, and I may lose any independence he has granted me thus far." "He knows that you have fighting skills, but he would be angry if he knew you gave a holiday to the protector that our brother hired. Daniel would be most displeased if he knew what you had done." Honora set down the hairbrush. "There's old Mrs. Miller." "Leafy, she is asleep in the guestroom most of the time. She is, after all, only for the sake of appearances and is old enough to remember when America answered to a king!" she said chuckling. "You know how to make me laugh." Leafy joined her sister in laughter, but only outwardly. The tightness of fear in her heart remained, and she suspected that Honora suffered it as well. She listened to her sister ramble about nonsense, and she suspected that Honora was trying to avoid the subject of that horrible man. "Our parents were kind to bring Mrs. Miller into our household after her husband died." Leafy produced a small smile and scanned the ceiling in her frustration. "I didn't need any hired man, though. Father and our brothers believe that because I am a woman, I cannot protect myself. I survived the incident. I will survive any future one too!" She seethed with resentment. Honora shook her head and smiled. "Father is not usually wrong, but he is in this case. Your secret is safe with me, Leafy. Isn't that hired man still in London?" 37

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"Yes, why? I am not going to have him back until our brother returns because a man in a hooded cloak appears in the oddest places, looking at me." Honora stepped closer to her. "That man is terrifying, Leafy. He can practically fly. Remember the story about how he hid on a ceiling for an hour? His prey only had to look up to see him. It might have saved the life of the poor man he killed." She shuddered. Both girls quickly looked up and around the room. Then Honora gathered Leafy's hair into three sections with fast and nervous movements, so she could braid it. Leafy reached up and touched her hand affectionately. "I'm glad you can fight," Honora stated. "So am I." "Father can't know that you protect yourself well." "Yes, you are right." "Your harasser was in Paris when we were there on tour with Daniel and Mrs. Miller." "And Vienna, and Berlin, and..." "Eventually you will have to face him." Relief grew stone cold.

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Three "He has not attacked. I assume he is trying to frighten me, to intimidate me." Relief sighed and dropped her hands into her lap. "Why make that assumption?" Honora asked, braiding her sister's hair in front of the mirror in her bedroom. Relief flinched when Honora pulled tight, straining her neck. "Sorry, Leafy. Your hair is thick, so I must draw it in to gather it all." Relief smiled and offered a slight inclination of her head in acknowledgement that she accepted her apology. Honora rubbed her hands over the top of Leafy's head to smooth out her hair. She brought forth the stray strand that would partially conceal her sister's exposed eye. "There." Leafy sensed her still playing with loose wisps from the back of her head. "Honora, I was hoping he would forget his business with me because I am a woman." "You have been foolish. He said it was only a matter of time. He killed your teacher, and now he wants to finish his job." "Why? Why won't he leave me be? Is it so important that he can't just forget it?" "You humiliated him in Asia, and you know it. There, finished." 39

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Honora dropped her hands, touched Leafy's braid then placed her hands on her shoulders in comfort. The elder sister closed her eyes and pressed her hands to the tabletop in front of her. When her stomach churned with anxiety, she tried her best to hide her grave concern from her innocent sister because Honora frightened easily. She filled her lungs with a deep breath and glanced into the mirror with falsely confident eyes then stood up and crossed the large room. Honora followed her. Leafy poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the table by her bed and gulped one swallow of the refreshing liquid. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, set her drink down, and gazed at Honora a long moment. "Honora, I have to be able to protect myself. A husband cannot always be by my side, and I couldn't tolerate a constant guard. I enjoy my privacy but don't experience much of it as a member of our family. She paced across the room. Her hands lifted to emphasize her words. "What am I to do, Honora? No husband would ever allow me to protect myself. I couldn't go into the city's streets in the middle of the night to practice my self-protection skills. It's fun strolling around without the restrictions of my gowns. Imagine tapping a giant bully on the shoulder." Her feet froze, and her face turned to the side with an unsightly grin. "He turns around with an ugly sneer on his face after bloodying the nose of some poor little orphan lad, no one to look out for him." Her upper body twisted as she threw an uppercut punch. "The bully turns and bam! I punch him right in the chin, and he 40

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crashes into the dirt with dust flying everywhere." She jumped from foot to foot, excited. "A crowd gathers and cheers. I take a bow." Her hands came up in a wide arc, and a bright smile enhanced her face as she leaned forward in a bow. "Thank you, thank you, friends!" She chuckled and stood up, crossing her arms across her chest, quite satisfied with herself. Honora smiled. "That gratifies your great sense of pride, I'm sure, Leafy." She sat on the large, soft, pink bed. Leafy sat down next to her, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. Honora placed an arm around her shoulders, and Leafy rested against her younger sister. "It does, and at the same time, I do helpful things for other people. I'm a good fighter, Honora, and I intend to stay that way. Relying on someone else would be dangerous." "It's ironic. A husband would protect you and insist that you stop going out at night. I can see him locking you away in your bedchambers to confine you after he discovered your boy's clothes. You would bang on the door until your hands throbbed, red and swollen." Relief's shoulders fell. "Is there a man that wouldn't do that to me? I would very much like to meet him. Father has me in London. It seems he has hope for me, so he has allowed us to set up house here. I have turned away too many of New York's finest bachelors." "Never give up hope, Leafy. Maybe we should stop assuming the worst and trust that you will find the man of whom you dream. Maybe here he will walk into your life." 41

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"And fight by my side," Leafy muttered with a twinge of sadness but grasped for the chance of it. **** Outside the theater, Leafy stood still as her sister brushed off the shoulders of her tattered boy's coat. "You appear most boyish, if I may say so," Honora stated. "Just don't smile unless you remember to do it with sarcasm! Your smile is your best feature and easy for someone to recall!" "Thank you, Honora. This costume allows me freedom that would otherwise be denied me," she said, using her brilliant smile on her. She knew it was effective. Honora nodded in approval. They turned and saw the Viscount pacing in front of the theater in his fancy opera clothes. He wore a close-fitting black evening coat with a velvet collar and black satin knee breeches. A diamond sparkled from within the folds of his pristine white cravat. Leafy huffed. "Damn him." Her stomach tightened with desire as she watched him take long strides, squeezing his hands together in happy anticipation. "What is it, Leafy?" "Men are supposed to want me, not the other way around." She pouted, reaching for her sister's arm. Honora's eyes grew bigger, and she grinned. "The coxcomb fellow seems to congratulate himself on his own impressive nature. And let me assure you, it is quite impressive. He exudes confidence and seems to be well aware 42

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that he has an effect on women. He's quite handsome, Leafy, well-built, blond like a—" "Viking?" "Yes." Honora's lips parted, and she blushed. "If he discovered my activities Honora..." Relief held her nervous stomach. "He's magnificent." Honora touched her cheek and sighed. Annoyed, Leafy frowned behind her boyish makeup. "Honora, he's conceited." She played with the loose strand of hair meant to partially cover her one exposed eye. "He appears to be unsettled now, see?" Honora pointed over. "His lordship's step has become uneven. See him wringing his hands like a nervous boy in his short coat?" "I haven't noticed." "He grows nervous awaiting you. Go, Leafy, talk to him, and try not to look directly at him." Honora pushed her sister forward. Relief stumbled. Honora grinned. "Also, he will want to know all about you, I mean, Miss Moore. Ask him to pay for the information. It will fit his expectations, I imagine." Relief took in a deep breath and made her way towards him, walking like a man with big steps. Lord Cheltham looked over and his features lit up with pleasure, causing her to hesitate, disarming her. She blinked and took in a deep breath. Admiration made her skin tingle, and her heart rest light in her chest. "Good evening, Mr. Taylor." His husky, pleasant voice sent shivers of joy across her heart. 43

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She nodded and chewed on her lower lip, then mentally slapped her wrist for letting that feminine action slip. His hair appeared to be soft, and she wanted to find out for herself if it were true. In her mind, she reached and placed her fingertips upon his head and sighed in delight. Her chest tightened with uncertainty. She might never grow weary of this man with his easy nature. "Did you speak with her?" The Viscount asked anxiously. "To whom do you refer?" Leafy turned her head so that her covered eye faced him. "The lovely Miss Moore." Lord Cheltham stepped closer and leaned forward, attempting to have a better look at her face in the shadows. "You have been out helping people during the opera. It appears you had a tumble or two." He shook his head. "Your face is smudged again. I wonder what you look like with a clean face," he teased. Leafy stepped back. "It has been a busy night, but I saw Miss Moore a moment ago." "Did you mention me?" He heaved a sigh. "No." Relief turned and watched as a laughing couple alighted their carriage several yards in front of them. She crooked her head back to stare at the man who intrigued her, a half grin pulling at his lips. "Oh well, Mr. Taylor, I suppose that's better than saying I'm a rake. That might turn her away from her future suitor. She would not be impressed by my er ... record with ladies." His gaze fell to his polished shoes then returned to meet hers. Her pulse began to beat unsteadily. Such a handsome gentleman he is. 44

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"Still, she would like me. She is a woman." He stared at her with eyes glittering in stark male pride. Smoldering desire dropped off as if she were on a cliff, pushed by the arms of an assuming man, and she scoffed. "My lord, give up such an impossible flight of fancy. Leafy would like to be the admired one in a relationship." Crickets chirped. She tried to read his eyes but couldn't. His hushed voice spilled past earnest lips. "I will not give up. I will win her over, I assure you." She shivered by the intensity of his sincerity but brushed it off. "You lie to yourself. Miss Moore is not to be easily had whether you have handsome looks and a title or not. She has turned away other worthy men." His lips turned up in such a confident way that Leafy knew her own pride was rivaled. "Perhaps, but did these men have both looks and a title?" Relief clenched her jaw, and she huffed. Damn, damn, damn. He was as vain as she was, and he had reason to be. Her throat ached with tightness, and her heart did flips when he stood so close to her. If I just reach out my hand, I can touch the buttons on his jacket, slip my hand inside, feel his warmth— She shook her head to clear it because she was being a fool. She would not be like all those other ladies! Surely he drove them to dismay as he used their flames of passion and then blew them out. Lord Cheltham grinned and took a step forward. "How does Miss Moore fare? I saw her during the performance. She looked like an angel. Is she well?" "She is. I'll tell her you enquired after her." 45

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"You will?" He smiled brightly. His wonderful lips. To kiss him would be a bit of heaven. "Er, yes." She cleared her throat in an attempt to brush away a cloud of desire. "What do you know about her? Would you be so obliging as to enlighten me?" Lord Cheltham paced a step then looked back into her face. She fixed her eyes on to her feet and scuffed the ground with the tip of her boot. "If you want information..." She held out her hand in a gesture indicating that she would accept a bribe. How embarrassing, but it's part of the act. A blush heated her cheeks, he huffed, and she looked up. The Viscount was extracting some coins from a pouch. He slapped them into her hand. "I shan't say too much. That's private information, my lord, and I feel bad as it is." "Tell me something." He reached out a hand pleading, and then dropped it to his side. Relief sighed. "Her father and mother began as wine merchants in New York before investing in land and buildings. She has two brothers and also a younger sister." "I know these things." "They are all in New York except for her brother and sister, who is her companion, and old Mrs. Miller who is her chaperone. Miss Moore's older brother, Daniel, normally resides with them, but he is currently away on business. I protect the women when he is away." 46

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"What else?" He walked a step then stopped and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Relief is graced with a temper. She's adventurous, but suspicious." She tapped her fingers over her thigh. More people passed, talking. Relief and Lord Cheltham waited for them to leave their vicinity. The Viscount smiled, and the glowing look on his face concerned her. "What is amiss, Mr. Taylor?" He frowned. "Your face, my lord." "What do you mean?" "It's your expression. You look as if you have much on your mind." "My apologies." He rubbed his face. "You were discussing the most intriguing woman I have ever seen. I would be her protector." "That sentiment would rouse her anger." Relief tensed her jaw. "Then tell her I'm amusing." Relief chuckled. "I'll tell her she'd be one in a thousand." He frowned, shifting his jaw in irritation. "You seem to be against me, Mr. Taylor. Come; let us discuss matters over a drive. Perhaps I can change your mind." Now she scowled at him and touched her side after she glanced at his carriage. A knife hung sheathed on her hip because she was a bit on edge over the recent death-threat she had received from her pursuer. "Mr. Taylor?" "Try anything, and I'll kill you." 47

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"I do not doubt it for a second." He stood straighter as if struck and gestured forward. She followed him to his carriage. After a few moments, Relief still didn't grant the Viscount a promise of arranging a meeting with Miss Moore. Instead she agreed to meet his lordship himself, once again to discuss the matter, to get to know him a bit as one of Miss Moore's guardians. Lord Cheltham approved. "You wish to assure yourself that the situation would be best for Miss Moore, is that it, Mr. Taylor?" "Yes." **** Relief wore a boy's hat pulled low over her forehead that matched her coarse brown jacket and breeches. She climbed two steps that led to the front of the Viscount's town house. She'd read that it was to be put up for sale. It was situated within a terrace that formed a gradual crescent. Plenty of men had showed interest in her, but she wanted to know what it felt like to have a titled gentleman pursue her. It would be very gratifying, she was sure. She wanted him to want her because so many women wanted him. This was a fun game she played with the Viscount, but a risky one. She liked him and wanted to spend time with him freely and without the usual social inhibitions. She suspected that in disguise, she could find out much more about him than she would otherwise. He might hide things from her if she were in her true form because she was a woman. 48

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Pride surged through her as she thought of him wanting her. She trembled with a jolting thrill when she focused on it. Having her would be better than having ten women, and she wanted him to know it, and show her how much he believed it. She could contain herself no longer, and a wicked grin lifted one corner of her lips. She straightened her mouth, having many times been told how provocative her smile was. "Smile like a man," she reminded herself. A groom gave her a reproachful look, so she raised her brow. "If you are considering asking me to go around to the servants' entrance, then you may tell his lordship that I will be leaving, but he wants me here as his guest." "It will not be necessary for you to go around. However, in the future, I advise you to consider whom you are visiting." Relief touched her shoulder and leaned forward in a mocking bow. The short, thin groom reached up and gave a tug on a bell. Relief availed herself of the lovely tones floating in the air, left behind from the ringing of the iron instrument. She had a heightened appreciation for sound. Her environment was enriched by vibrations that most people cared not a whit for. Secretly she had wanted to be a singer and practiced her songs in private as Honora played the pianoforte. It was one of her favorite hobbies. A middle-aged man dressed in a tasteful dark coat and light-colored trousers greeted her behind the open door. He scrutinized her from head to toe with frankness and censure, and she knew she fell short of passing his expectations for 49

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entering a lord's house because she was dressed for the streets. She lifted her chin up in defiance and attempted to walk into the house. He held the door and scoffed. She sighed. "His lordship is expecting me." "Yes," he sneered and let her inside. "Wait here in the entrance while I fetch him. Do not touch anything." He scurried off, leaving her standing in the entranceway, scowling after him. "Rude," she muttered. "He didn't even show me into the library or a parlor." She turned her attention to her surroundings and surveyed the room with detached appreciation. The Viscount had good taste, but hers was more exotic, and more ephemeral because it changed from day to day and could not be relied on to be consistent. Sometimes the streets in all of their dirty, noisy glory were what set her blood rushing. They smelled of cow manure and smoke. Leafy imagined the calls of vendors, the shouts of rowdy little whelps playing in the streets, horses clomping along the road, people chatting ... She would purchase a piece of fruit or a vegetable and bite into it without worrying about table manners. She would chuckle if the sweet juices splattered onto her shirt, and she would shrug. Oh well, she thought. I will be elegant tonight at my silver and crystalladen supper table. She enjoyed jumping into the middle of trouble with a cold pistol that she'd never actually used except to intimidate, or a small sword in her hand, or just her own confidence in her fighting skills. She reveled in the thrill of throwing a criminal 50

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on his backside and seeing him scuttle up and run. A bubbling, happy laugh would come forth from deep within her gut, pouring out because she was living and loving life. She adored the feel of the uneven ground under her booted feet as she ran. Other times she preferred striding around beautiful and feminine in her gowns. She enjoyed her antique-furniture filled rooms, having tea with Honora and Mrs. Miller, her little yellow music room, and her unusual paintings depicting people in action, living life, battles and dance scenes, not sitting in pompous arrogance. "Real people do real things," she liked to say to Honora. As she stood waiting for the Viscount, she daydreamed of how she loved and was deeply grateful for her position in life. She wanted love, yes, but the price was high. Only in her wildest fantasies was she married to a man who wouldn't insist that she halt all of her current activities. She enjoyed what she did and always wanted to do them. She took pleasure from the excitement of it, pride in making a difference, but it warmed her heart to help other people. She cared very much for the city's poorest citizens. She had given money to orphanages, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to do more and did more. She kept people from getting hurt. She turned her head and considered her surroundings. The capacious room contained a wooden stairway at one end. Fine paintings, created by artists known more for their prestige than their actual talent, embellished the walls. She scoffed. She knew of some good artists depicting real life who should have been able to sell their paintings for plenty of money. 51

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She muttered while walking around the front part of the room. "Why is he selling his house in the city? Why is his carriage in need of repair?" A fireplace of considerable size enhanced the other end of the hall, opposite of the stairs. The black and white checkered floor shone, and the scent of fresh wax filled the room. She inhaled, enjoying the fragrance of lemons that seemed to fill her senses. Long, tied-back brocade navy-blue curtains hung from windows at the front of the room, displaying the entrance. A round, white marble-topped table with a plinth base and animal-shaped feet rested against the wall. A candle and a lamp sat atop the end of it with some other items. She smirked. How typical, she thought, looking at the rest of the contents resting on the table. His leather riding gloves and a riding whip. I wonder if when he is intriguing with a variety of women, he uses those to subdue ... Her thoughts were cut short when his shoes tapped against the hard floor. Her fairhaired gentleman entered the room, smiling. She gasped, tingling with lust. He strode forward dressed in impeccable clothes, at the height of fashion with his finely tailored jacket and trousers, and perfect snow-white cravat. Only recently found financial trouble... "Mr. Taylor, good day." "You no longer look at me in that condescending way, my lord. Why?" She shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her chest in that now comfortable masculine way of hers. "I have my reasons." His voice was sincere and warm. 52

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Relief grinned like a man. "Follow me to the drawing room if you will." Relief nodded. They walked toward the back of the house. Lord Cheltham gestured with his hand when they reached a doorway. She walked into the blue and white room, an elegant, but simple parlor, less formal than it might have been in King George III's day. It appealed to her senses. Above a small fireplace at the back of the room hung a large painting of an older, blond couple that could have been his parents. Their expressions emit self-importance. Two smaller paintings adorned either side of the larger one. More relatives, including Joan. Strange that she is his only darkhaired relative she thought, crinkling her brow in perplexity. The Viscount followed Leafy into the room. "Would you care for refreshments, Mr. Taylor?" His butler glanced in the doorway. "No." Lord Cheltham nodded to the servant, dismissing him, and sat in a light, comfortable-looking wooden chair upholstered with a thick blue cushion. He gestured toward the similar chair across from his. They sat before a small round, highly polished wooden table. Relief opened the cover of a thick history book, perused the inside then closed it. She glanced sideways at the Viscount. He looked at her with amusement sparkling in his eyes. She turned and scanned the room. Low bookcases filled with different types of books, a blue sofa, cabinets, a small desk, and even a large harp resting in a corner supplied the furnishings. 53

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"You like music, my lord?" She placed her hands on the smooth, cool surface of the dark table, then just as soon snapped them away and polished the soiled spot with her sleeve. He grinned. "Immensely. My sister plays the harp. Sometimes I invite her down to this room for extended times so I can sit back, sketch or just relax and listen to her play her beautiful, haunting songs. Do you like music?" "Very much." She smiled, pleased and warmed at finding that she had something in common with him. "You are an unusual person, Mr. Taylor." Lord Cheltham paused for just a second. "I'm going to see my future lady soon, I presume?" He leaned forward. His hopeful grin stirred her heart, but she felt confusion surge through her. "Upon my word, you must be mad, empty in the knowledge box. You are obsessed with Miss Moore." "Who said anything about Miss Moore?" He chuckled. Heat flooded her cheeks. "Oh," she stuttered, "I thought—" He laughed some more. "I tease you, sir. Of course that is who I meant!" Her lips turned up at one corner. A spark of delight ran through her. "Our meeting is a strange occurrence, I assure you, my good lad. You are different than all of my friends. I enjoy your company." Lord Cheltham lowered his forearms onto the table and laced his fingers together. "You do not enjoy the presence of your friends?" Relief slowly dragged her index finger over the binding of the history book. 54

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"I do, but it's more a matter of enjoying the activities we do, whether it's riding or boxing, or cards, or any number of things that I would derive pleasure from doing with anyone." "I see. My lord?" She sat back and tugged her hat down lower over her forehead. His eyes became curious. "Yes, Mr. Taylor?" "You are more respectful to me than the other titled gentlemen I have crossed paths with." The Viscount's lips turned down at the corners, and his eyes became thoughtful. "Would you prefer for me to talk down to you?" "No, but I want to understand." He rubbed his chin, as if considering his thoughts. "I can't say much about it at this point, Mr. Taylor, but I will say that something happened a few years ago that caused my family to—" Leafy leaned forward a tiny bit. "My lord?" "From the day of the ... incident, I have been largely on my own." "I don't understand." He looked down and his shoulders slumped. She reached out and grazed his arm, and he flinched. She pulled her hand away as if she had been burned then he raised his eyes to her. She turned her head and slid her fingers along the rim of her hat, embarrassed. "I don't understand it, Mr. Taylor, but I feel as if we are friends. Something happened. I was sent to America for years. I am afraid that I lost my aristocratic sense of 55

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superiority. I attempt to put on airs, but it seems I'm a failure. I am defective." He chuckled. "Odd, we live in two different worlds. I suppose I have not found the right camaraderie I have been looking for with my friends." "My lord." She waited, feeling warmth permeate her as she regarded him. He was smiling now. "Mr. Taylor, my friends would think me mad if they knew I spoke to you in such a way. I wonder what they would think if they knew what happened with my family when I was a young lad." Leafy felt compelled to say, "My lord, I find it odd that your sister is dark-haired." He sat up straighter. "It is not unheard of." "No, of course not." "Miss Moore has dark hair, unlike her sister." Leafy grinned. "An excellent point, my lord, but both girls have fair-skin. The exotic Joan appears to have come from the east." "Just because I find you interesting, Mr. Taylor, does not give you permission to explore private matters." She felt her cheeks heat. "I beg your forgiveness, my lord." His eyes became hard in his reprimand. Leafy squirmed and sat lower in her chair. She half covered her face with her hand in a casual gesture. He stared at her and finally spoke. "How did you make Miss Moore's acquaintance? I have the feeling that you two 56

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rely on each other as friends. You and she don't..." he frowned. Relief grinned, recognizing jealousy in his gray eyes. "She could have a hundred men, but she doesn't. When she chooses the right man," she said, hoping that he did exist. "She will have no one before she meets him. He will bring a smile to her face simply by resting his gaze upon her." Lord Cheltham was too close to her. His nearness sent spirals of heat and turmoil through her. She wanted to scoot close and place her hand on his cheek. She brought her very appreciative eyes to his lips, fantasizing about how warm they would feel brushing hers with the softness of a light breeze. She blinked. Could he be the one? She studied him, wishing he was different than the men she had met before who had boasted of their traditional expectations concerning women. She couldn't help it. She was unusual and wanted a life of adventure. Lord Cheltham shifted in his seat. Relief's half-dazed mind spun with fantasy. "She would think you quite handsome with your storm-cloud gray eyes." She realized her mistake and closed her eyes a moment, and then opened them. Lord Cheltham smiled. "She is difficult to draw close to with that protective family. Please arrange the meeting." He would place his hand gently on my neck and drag the back of his fingers between my breasts... "I don't know." She sat far back in her seat and shook her head, looking down. "Why, pray tell, not?" 57

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She looked up abruptly, into his longing eyes. She had to say something, come up with some reason. I can't fall in love until the man who adores me above all else presents himself. No mistresses, and you are known, dear sir, for your reputation with women. The words that came forth were not what she longed to say. "She is not looking for your type of man. She wants a man like, well like me. A man of courage and adventure, a hero, perhaps a soldier or—" She paused in thought. And a man to love me and grant me the freedom to do as I wish, not just a man with handsome looks. A sad shiver coursed over her skin, for she knew her requirements were uncommonly demanding. "Mr. Taylor, I assure you that I am no fearful coward of a man. I took first place in several informal competitions this year in pugilism, including fighting the previous year's champion, and I was not even the heaviest man there!" "Hmm, well, you lead a charmed life. Relief will likely find her hero defending another." "I can only hope she never finds herself in a dangerous situation." "Do not worry about her." The Viscount rubbed his face. "She wants someone brave. My little corner of the city does not offer much chance of proving such a quality. America did," he practically whispered. "I must leave now, my lord. I have another appointment. Next time we may be able to talk longer, and I might arrange 58

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the meeting. I told her about you, and she is intrigued. She asks me many questions." His lips turned up, and she trembled. She looked at her hands, shocked at his power to draw such feelings from her. Relief's thoughts whirled around. Damn if it didn't become almost unbearable not to touch his hand. She wanted him to squeeze hers, to hold it. Her heart sped up. A soft moan escaped her lips as she fought the feeling at the pit of her stomach that said she was in danger of falling in love with him. She saw something in his eyes that she respected. She saw strength and kindness. Could he be different than all the rest? "Perhaps, Mr. Taylor," he interrupted her thoughts, "I can picture myself gallivanting on the rougher side of the city trying to win the heart of the one woman who would be worth it." He leaned forward, "And, sir, I would not tell anyone about it. I do have a reputation to maintain." His smile made her heart warm. She gasped. Dear God. Her heart leapt and left her straining to control the rush of romantic images that made her blood heat. She imagined him pressing her against himself and kissing her as if he would die for her, even knowing her secret. If only a man could love her so. She stood up, turned on heel and rushed out before he saw her flushed face, burning with lust, affection ... and respect.

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Four One of his friends, the Earl of Hawksworth, a short, stout, consistently over-dressed man, entered his salon inviting him to White's for the evening. He offered his friend a glance, and then returned his attention to the gazette he had been scanning. "No, my friend, I have other arrangements." He planned to enjoy a bit of adventure—the kind his friends could not be made aware of. "Perhaps you will drop by later then?" "Perhaps," he responded in bored tones. The Viscount looked up from his seat to see the Earl nod. He returned the gesture. "I'll take my leave. I have some gambling to do!" Lord Hawksworth stated and exited the salon, his cape flapping behind him. The Viscount sat in contemplation. He thought of the intriguing Mr. Taylor, compelled to spend time with the chap. He shook his head, finding this to be an odd occurrence. The lad was utterly out of his class. He was a street punk, an adolescent ragamuffin. Still the Viscount knew he respected the young man. He admired and liked him. After all, it took courage and integrity to put oneself in danger regularly for the sake of others. Mr. Taylor had spunk and personality, and he saw the world from an exciting and selfless viewpoint. His company interested and stimulated him. Lord Cheltham knew 60

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he could count on being surprised and not bored whenever he was with him. Yes, he decided, I will seek out a friendship with Mr. Taylor, and not just because I want an entrance into the life of his beautiful employer. **** Night hung a velvety black curtain over the skies of the Town. He chose a Tilbury carriage for its light, fast and sporty way to travel into the heart of the city. Feeling the pull of adventure in his heart, he headed for a part of London Town he normally avoided. A mass of distasteful noises and sights surrounded him, for he enjoyed fresh, country air for the better part of the year. Intrigue and a charming lady impelled him into unknown territory. When he recognized a bit of the ancient snobbery lurking in his attitude, an unwanted intruder, he counteracted it with self-talk of the promise of new things ventured, and a lady to impress. Surely Raphael would tell Miss Moore all about how he, Lord Cheltham, was brave and interesting and not just a bored aristocrat, for truly he no longer was. He shook his head grinning and muttered, "Adventurous Americans." Brick walls lay about everywhere. When smoke burned his eyes and dirty air filled his lungs, he began to wonder at his choice of a roofless carriage in which to explore the city. A couple of whelps in ragged clothes chased each other past his vehicle. They had come a bit too close, and the Viscount yanked on his reins, causing his horse to stop the carriage. 61

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Lord Cheltham glared at the boys. Soot painted their smudged cheeks gray. The taller one, a boy with untidy blond hair, stopped and picked up a soiled cap to the left of the horse guiding the Viscount's light carriage. He placed the hat on his greasy head, and the Viscount cringed, watching in fascination. "Look at me!" the boy mocked, shouting at the other youngster. "I'm a fool who was out in my nightclothes!" He held out his arms and stumbled around as if he were blind. "'Ere is my member mug? I need to take a piss!" His spider-shanked playmate lurched for him and knocked the hat off of his friend's head. He received a smart punch to his arm in return. "I will dress your hide neatly, for that one!" He tackled his friend. Lord Cheltham asked himself if their parents knew where they were. The elder stood up and ran, and the other gave chase. The Viscount looked about from the relative safety of his carriage seat and judged potential trouble everywhere. It's fortunate this vehicle with its large wheels can travel fast. Now a bit of gladness over his choice came over him. A man who wore a singed shirt that reeked of smoke strode past. He grinned widely and rubbed a gold trinket of some sort in an avaricious manner. Lord Cheltham frowned. The smoke-scented man probably stole that piece of jewelry while pretending to assist someone during a fire. He shook his head in disapproval. People discussing their out-of-work status strolled along the streets here and there with hollow, hopeless eyes. Two 62

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drunken men wobbled on the edge of the road singing a rum chant. A village horse and cart stood still, the empty cart tipped over. The Viscount assumed the unfortunate owner must have lost its contents to those in need within moments after his accident. A basket-seller, a woman in a rough linen dress with woven hampers on her arm, visited from a smaller village that specialized in that kind of thing, perhaps Berkshire or Somerset, the Viscount guessed. Trailing behind her a skinny little boy reached for her free hand. Lord Cheltham continued down the boisterous road, guiding his horse, not regretting that he had not brought along his groom to drive. He passed a butcher's shop, a tailor, a saddler, a cooper, a small general store and a tiny inn. He looked just to his left and stopped his horse once again. A boy eyed a middle-class gentleman from behind as he glanced into a store window. He obviously prepared to relieve the man of his purse. The Viscount held onto the reins with his right hand, leaned over his carriage rim, and reached out an arm, tapping the boy on the shoulder. He spun around with wide eyes. Lord Cheltham scowled at the little natty lad. The boy ran and almost collided with the scaffolding that a bricklayer sat upon, drinking his ale. The gentleman turned and tipped his head at the Viscount, eyeing him. "Thank you. I 'aw the boy in da glass." Lord Cheltham smiled and turned forward, snapping his reins. He didn't get five yards when a well-endowed woman ran to the side of his Tilbury, smiling. He scoffed and stopped 63

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his horse once again. This lady lacked a couple of teeth. He looked daggers at her and curved away from her. She reached up and laid a hand on his arm. "Would a fine gentleman such as you care for some company?" A prostitute. He smirked, now to his surprise, amused. "Stubble it; I'm not interested." "'Old my tongue? You askin' me ta 'old my tongue?" He shook his head and quickly snapped the reins of his horse, continuing forth as she shouted something derogatory towards him. He ignored her. Suddenly his heart caught in his throat. A few yards ahead Raphael leapt over a crumbling wall. A homeless family slept against a short unfinished brick wall—a man, holding a woman's hand in sleep, and a small boy curled in his mother's lap-all three in threadbare clothes. The Viscount winced watching his new friend Raphael barely miss nicking the father on the shoulder as he flew through the air, over the wall, chasing a man who had a lady's pouch in his hand. The poor woman screamed, "Stop him!" and staggered after them, grasping her long skirts. The Viscount stared in enthrallment, temporarily overcome with great surprise at the speed and agility of his young friend. Raphael overcame the thief, twice as large as him. He ducked a punch from a huge, meaty fist, spun around, and kicked the man in the grubbery. The large shapeless man reminded the Viscount of a well-stuffed couch. He stumbled back but composed himself, lurching at Raphael. 64

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Lord Cheltham watched, gaping. Raphael did a series of unusual moves that he had never seen before. It wasn't boxing or wrestling, but it was terribly effective. He thought that maybe he'd once read a book about people in Asia fighting like that. There were quick sharp blows with open hands, parrying with the legs, leaps, kicks and spins like he had only imagined when he had read about this type of fighting. When the thief at last lay insensible, Raphael grabbed the pouch and spat on him. The woman ran up to Raphael, took her purse and promptly placed her lips on his in a big sloppy kiss. Raphael pushed her away, frowned and quite openly wiped his mouth dry. "Blah!" he said. The Viscount lifted his brows. He approached Raphael, laughing. "Not your type, eh?" Raphael smirked. "Not in the least. What are you doing here?" "Looking for you." "What?" He placed his arm around Raphael's shoulders. Raphael looked at his hand. "Just because I did not welcome that particular woman's interest doesn't mean that I—" "Stop, I didn't mean that, Mr. Taylor." He dropped his arm. "You are like a little brother to me, in a way. I have been bored lately, and you have presented me with plenty to think about, important things. My perspective has widened." 65

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"If you want entertainment, go to a performance at the theater." He gave him a teasing smile. "Mr. Taylor, where's a good place to drink around here?" "I know the perfect place for a bit of twankay." Raphael gestured and led the way. They had one drink, and then another and another. By the middle of the night, they were drinking and singing sailor songs together and leaning one on the other. They were drunk, and so Raphael held his glass up cheerfully to the Viscount. Lord Cheltham laughed and clanked his cup up to his. Some clear liquid spilled out over the side. This rum chant they were bellowing—was this not the same one he had heard others so gloriously shouting out earlier? **** Relief, disguised as Raphael, invited him on several more excursions over the course of the week, and they had a brilliant time, every time. Lord Cheltham even stopped a thief on one occasion. She had looked at this new friend, impressed, Lord Cheltham's fists still in the air, having knocked out a man bigger than himself. One day, a few days later, she brought the Viscount a slightly ragged suit and told him to put it on. Lord Cheltham snuck into a small parlor wearing it, and she gave him a smart look. "There, now you are fit to come about with me. A bit of swig stained on your shirt, soiled cuffs-that's it! Now you look appropriate! Let's go to the poorer side of London Town and stir up trouble!" she said, wearing another boy's hat pulled 66

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low over her eyes. She stood with her feet apart and her arms crossed over her chest as a man would. "Great idea, my boy!" Lord Cheltham laughed. "I've never had so much fun!" Relief smiled, excited for the night to come, and happy to be in his company. "I'll change first and meet you." "I understand. Your people can't know you do this." The Viscount nodded. Three hours later, on this warm evening, they walked along the dirty, animated city roads, and Lord Cheltham tapped her arm. "Look there; it's a pickpocket." Relief touched his shoulder and complemented by pointing in another direction. "A bird of paradise is looking for her man of the evening—er, hour." "Shall we stop a crime together today, my good lad?" She turned to face him but quickly looked down and scuffed the toe of her boot on the ground. "You are enjoying this, my lord." "Please, no more, 'my lord.' I consider you to be a most valuable acquaintance now, a friend." "How about Cheltham then?" she joked. The Viscount tossed his arms up. "Pray tell, why not? But only in private." "I like this less pompous version of you, Cheltham." The Viscount grinned. When he turned his back, Relief gave him a long, hard look. The noises and smells of the city faded away. Something stirred in her chest. She imagined touching his shoulder and spinning him around. She 67

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visualized placing her lips upon his. They would be warm lips. He would kiss her deeply with an open mouth, exploring hers slowly with his tongue, beckoning her to greater and greater levels of passion. He would touch the back of her head and release her hair. It would fall down her back. He would slide his hands sensuously over her and mutter endearing words of love. She blinked. The handsome Viscount intrigued her, and it became increasingly more difficult to deny her hot attraction for him. He turned and faced her. Her cheeks warmed, and her breath suspended. "Mr. Taylor—" Pungent smells and voices of people calling out selling things once again came to her notice. "Apples!" "Baskets!" "Call me Raphael." "Raphael—" "Cheltham, why have you not once mentioned Miss Moore these past few days?" The Viscount looked at her oddly. "I thought you preferred me not to, Raphael." Suddenly a stray tabby brushed by and rubbed against her legs. She picked it up, and it meowed in the hopes of procuring some food. Relief petted the skinny little creature absentmindedly. With one hand, she reached in her pocket; no crumbs. She continued to comfort the poor thing, scratching behind its ears. "Would you like to make Miss Moore's acquaintance?" 68

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Lord Cheltham grasped his chin and rubbed it. "What? You mean that—?" "Yes. I can arrange it. Do you still want to meet her?" She set the disappointed cat down and watched it as it ran off. She lifted her head and tilted it so she could see Cheltham through the tangled strands of hair that fell over her exposed eye. The Viscount's breathing seemed to speed up before her eyes. "Well?" she asked. "Y ... Yes I want to meet her! I have great esteem for her." She scoffed. "What do you base that on? And don't tell me it is strictly her beauty!" She rolled her eyes. He rubbed his face in his characteristic way. "You don't find her to be exceptionally beautiful?" "No, I am not attracted to her that way." Lord Cheltham gave her a great look of surprise. "But you are a man! I am at a loss!" "Someday, perhaps I will tell you a little secret about the lovely Miss Moore and myself." She stepped ahead of him. He took a quick step to catch up to her. "What is it?" "It is not for you to know now." "We are friends, Raphael." "Yes, but there's more to Miss Moore than you know, much more." "How could a woman who lifts me up towards heaven with her eyes and her smile not be a perfectly delightful person in temperament as well?" 69

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"Oh, it's possible." "What?" he snapped, looking greatly disappointed. "Are you telling me Miss Moore is a dreadful person?" "Would it matter to you if she were a scab? I know you would bed her at the first given opportunity." "I dream about her." She stopped and stared at him. "So it matters not to you if she's an angel or a devil?" He shifted from one foot to the other. "It matters. Is she..." He dropped off. She could hear the disappointment in his voice, the harsh edge. "No matter; I'd still pay court to her. She moves me, Raphael. I respect her and her family. And that look, that look she gave me—it left me remembering. I want to touch her cheek and look into her eyes expressing what my heart begs me to tell her." Astonishment drew blood from her face. This sounded like more than lust. "I just meant that I've met a lot of beautiful women and not all of them were the angels that they appeared to be." How exciting this was becoming. "Is my future lady among those women?" She began to walk once again, her heart pounding. He followed and jaunted up to her side. "Will you stop calling her that, you mutton-headed lord?" They were in the streets and not in his territory. She felt freer with him here, as if they were on equal ground, and she liked it. She had to admit though; she would never speak to him in such a way in his home. 70

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"No." "You obstinate man, I will not tell you. You can meet her and decide for yourself." "I count the moments. I have read things about her that I appreciate. When do I meet her?" "You are having a house party at your townhouse soon, are you not?" "Yes." "I will pass the invitation to her." She tossed him a quick glance. Lord Cheltham smiled. "You will accompany her as her escort?" She stopped and looked at the ground and played with a spot of dirt with her toe, as she liked to do. "She will be accompanied by her sister Honora. Her brother is unfortunately still away. Mrs. Miller will be with the girls." The Viscount touched his chest. "An angel will be in my home." His face lit up. "Finally, finally! You are invited, too. I'll provide a nice suit of clothes for you if you should wish to attend." "Keep your pompous clothes. I will not be there." "Raphael, have I offended you?" He lowered his eyes in an effort to see into her face. She would not accommodate him. "Does it matter?" "Yes. You are my friend." She tensed. "You mean that, don't you?" "Yes." "I'm not offended. I'll be busy that night." "Fighting crime?" 71

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"Maybe. And, Cheltham, if you ever tell anyone in your fancy circle that I am the one they read about in their newspapers, our friendship is over." His posture stiffened. "I see. I will keep your secret." "Good, because I have grown to appreciate your big, stupid company, too." Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. He grinned. "I am not deficient in understanding. I am not the nocky boy you would have me be!" he said lightheartedly. "We shall see just how smart you really are, and how tough! Are you picking up some language of the street? Are you disgusted with yourself, my lord?" She raised one brow, gazing at him briefly. He laughed. "No. I can see the practicality of it. It had to contribute to your survival of the vilest of the back alleys!" She took a bow. "Et je parle beaucoup d'autres langues aussi. Leafy et moi, nous aimons les langues." Now his brow was raised. "Do you and Miss Moore often jabber in your parlez vous?" "Mais oui!" She grinned. "Though sometimes it is in Italian, German, or elegant English, my dear lord. Occasionally, for mere amusement, we might speak the language of the street. I may look as I may, but I am educated." He nodded. She gestured around, and he followed her hands as she scanned several people: two boys playing chase, a man and a woman talking in private heated conversation, a man selling some kind of drink and several others engaged in various pursuits, some of which seemed 72

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suspicious due to the circumspect glances of the parties involved. "What shall I serve at my party? What is Miss Moore's favorite dish? Does she enjoy exotic food?" His hands extended in question. "Serve what you were planning to serve. It is not a party in her honor, after all." "She is the only guest that I will notice all evening." Relief chuckled and smiled. "She speaks several languages and has had the best tutors. When she was two, she could communicate in two languages. Every year after that, her father added another language because Leafy enjoyed it so much and showed great potential. She asked for more. Mr. Moore believed in stimulating his daughters' intelligence, both daughters, so he invested where their individual talents were obvious. Honora plays the piano forte and is an accomplished seamstress. Teachers surrounded Leafy often in her early years. So by the time she was eight—" "She had begun her eighth language. I am highly impressed. Why did she learn so many?" He paced a step then stopped and looked at her. She simpered. "She wanted to. It is her hobby, one of them at least." "She must never have had a private moment, Raphael." "No, Relief grew weary of constantly being surrounded and eventually stole out of the house on adven ... er ... nevermind for now." He gave her a perplexed expression. 73

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She changed the subject. "I will wager she could keep up with any of your male guests concerning anything they could come up with. She is sharp of mind." She put her hands on her hips. Lord Cheltham smiled. "That pleases you, Cheltham?" "Yes." "Why?" "It is gratifying imagining myself sitting across a table from a woman who holds my attention so brilliantly." "You truly loathe boredom." "Yes." "So does Leafy. She will never be allowed to join the men in conversation over brandy and cigars at your party." He frowned. "No." "This is going to be interesting, Cheltham." "I'm mildly befogged thinking about this situation." Lord Cheltham tapped his fingers on his leg. "I want her to enjoy herself and say yes when I ask if I may pay court to her." "She will most likely be quite bored if you stick her in a room filled with empty-headed ladies discussing the marriage market or sewing." Lord Cheltham rubbed his chin again. "I hadn't thought of that, but I believe you are right. I will think of something." "You will have to or this could be a grand regret. Perhaps you should just forgo having her attend. It does not seem to be an opportunistic idea. Your friends may not approve of the American girl." 74

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"Or they may not be able to contain their admiring eyes," he said with a hint of irritation. "If any of my friends dare to presume with her, they will regret it." He tensed his jaw. "I will not tell her about your party then, Cheltham." "No, please do. Why are you looking at me that way, Raphael?" "I'm bewildered." "Whatever do you mean?" "You are a conceited, pompous man, but I think I'm seeing another side to you. Could it be that you are not really such an arrogant arse? I mean, arrogant man?" She shook her head. He smiled. "No, I really am sure of myself." He held out his arms in an open gesture. "Women love me. I want our fair Miss Moore to see me in my element; all dressed up, the lord of my manor." "You want her to see you sitting on your throne in your fancy townhouse, displaying your situation and attracting the admiring eyes of the women who are likely to be in attendance." "Why wouldn't she be tempted, unless she prefers ugly men?" "No, she appreciates a handsome man when she sees one." She looked down, desire drawing a knot in her stomach. "Good." Pride edged his voice. "But she needs much more than that. And she will not have a fribble or a dandy. Her man will be wild and brave and romantic." She ran her eyes over him and then away. He squinted. 75

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"What are you looking at, Cheltham?" She felt his eyes on her still. "Your hand, I just noticed." "What?" Relief covered her hand with the other. "They are small, but you had a mark on one. It looked like a tiny flower." "It's a birthmark. I inherited it from my mother." "Interesting." "I must quit now. Miss Moore is expecting me at her home." The Viscount nodded in response. **** Lord Cheltham pulled up in a Phaeton drawn by two horses to Miss Moore's rented house, where Raphael had said it was located once. And he said the ladies were not at home. He let out a slow breath and tapped his fingers nervously on his thighs. "Raphael won't mind, good-natured lad as he is," he said softly to himself. He knocked on the blue front door, intending to tell Raphael that he had to make a change in the time of the party. Of course he could have sent a servant, but he wanted to experiment with American ways. An older lady answered, and she couldn't have looked more surprised to see a lord standing before her. Her Nordic blue eyes met his with great interest. Her gray hair, pulled tightly back into a bun had silver streaks running through it. She wore a drab brown gown. 76

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After her eyes lost their astonishment, she pursed her lips into a frown. "Yes?" "Pardon me," he touched his chest and nodded his head. "Would Mr. Taylor be available so that I might have a word with him?" She blinked as if baffled. "Who?" Lord Cheltham frowned. "Mr. Taylor. I am a friend of his, Lord Cheltham. He said that he would be here." "My lord, I do not know a Mr. Taylor." He drew back a step, surprised. "Mr. Raphael Taylor?" "No." "He is known to Miss Relief Moore." "Ah," a smile crossed her features. "You refer to my dear Leafy. Allow me to fetch her. Perhaps she could help you." She turned to leave. He let out a nervous cough. "Madam—" "Mrs. Miller." "Mrs. Miller, I have not had the pleasure of making Miss Moore's acquaintance." He felt suddenly uncomfortable, anxious. She smiled again, warmly. "Then I intend to remedy that." There was a twinkle in her eyes, an approving look. He knew that look. It was that of a matchmaker. "Please, come inside." He did and his heart speed up; he let out a forced breath, tugged at his cravat, and cleared his thought. She left. "Mrs. Miller, a visitor? Really I—" Miss Moore said as she entered the room with her chaperon. Her voice was beautiful. She stopped and looked into his face, with something resembling mild initial panic. A slow 77

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smile lit up his countenance. He once again touched his chest, over his heart, and this time bowed. Mrs. Miller took her by the elbow. "Come child." She tripped forward as her guard led her forth. They stopped four feet from him. "Lord Cheltham, my lovely ward, Miss Relief Moore." "I am honored, Miss Moore." She blinked and curtseyed, nervously, looking down. "Lord Cheltham." "You have received the invitation to my party?" Her eyes came up. "Yes." "And have you accepted it?" He grinned as sweet passion drained from his heart and flowed to every part of him. "Yes." "I came to announce to Mr. Taylor that the event is to commence one hour earlier than originally planned." "Thank you. You might have sent a note." "I might have." Light on his feet and playful of mood, he awaited her next word. A mirthful grin appeared on her face, and she raised one brow. Something had relaxed her anxiety. He knew not what. "My lord?" "Miss Moore, I look forward to receiving you and your companions at my home." "Raphael has spoken well of you. It's almost as if I know you already." He sighed. "That delights me." 78

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She let out a small chuckle. It brightened his world. What an enchanting woman. He smiled. "I must be off." Another slight bow, another curtsy on her part, and he was gone. It occurred to him, while sitting in his vehicle that when he looked into her face, it wasn't lust that wrapped itself tightly around his heart and made him feel as if the world had just changed for the better.

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Five Lord Cheltham went for a drive in a phaeton, riding about Hyde Park. He wanted to enjoy it, knowing if his financial situation did not soon change, the vehicle would be sold. He took it slow, practically at a crawl and did not take notice of the other carriages he passed on the ring or of the men on horseback riding along. Nor did he consider the Ladies' Mile as he had so often in the past. He pondered a beautiful American woman. He would shortly entertain her for what promised to be a happy evening with friends. His friend, the Earl of Hawksworth called out to him. "Cheltham! I say, can you hear me?" "Oh, yes." The Earl pulled up beside him. "Charming day. You appear not to notice though." "I'm going to see her, soon." "Who?" the earl inquired in an inquisitive voice. "Miss Relief Moore." "She's here, Cheltham." "What?" He glanced around. The Earl pointed across the way. "She's with another young lady in a carriage with a grey leading it." "Excuse me." Lord Cheltham exited his carriage, leaving his friend to wonder. He strode across the green and saw Relief. She looked up. Her eyes showed her pleasure at his approach. She touched her lips briefly as if she were unsettled. 80

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Her sister Honora, a lovely blonde he had seen with her sister in New York, spoke. "Your prince arrives." Relief grinned smartly. Lord Cheltham stood before her, smiling inside because he had heard those words. Relief has esteem for me. Raphael told her some things she appreciated. I was called her prince. He smiled outwardly now and looked into her face, not saying a word. A giggle escaped Honora's lips. She immediately reined in her glee and sat up straighter. He cleared his throat and bowed slightly. "Miss Moore, I am honored." The elderly Mrs. Miller in her prim bonnet and dowdy gown sat in their carriage, silent. She afforded him a nod, and he acknowledged it with one of his own, just now noticing her. "Lord Cheltham," Relief said mischievously. "Dear God, you are lovely." He shook his head, embarrassed. He was twenty, but the playfulness hinted in her eyes made him feel like a schoolboy. "You are an Incomparable, Miss Moore." "You have a degree of bottom to approach me this way. Your friends are watching," Relief chided. He touched his chest. "It does not require courage. My heart led me to do so. I, my dear lady, am happy to find you here." "So you are," she said with a bit of merriment, teasing him. A beam of sun glinted off her hair and made it gleam a glossy chestnut. Tongue-tied and stupid, not meaning to be so rude, but unable to do anything for the moment, he shook 81

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his head and turned away briefly, then back, catching his error. "I offer my apologies." "My lord, could I be of service?" Relief grinned. "You were staring, my lord," Honora added. "Your peepers are drinking in my sister as if they have never before encountered a woman!" This one has American sauciness, as her sister does he thought. "Not one so beautiful." He shook his head. "Please forgive me, Miss Moore. The first time I saw you, you and your family attended a large business gathering in New York. It was a convention. I went with an associate who worked in industry with your father. The room overflowed with people doing business. You entered the room with your brothers. You ... in your snowy white gown..." He cleared his throat and tugged at his cravat. "I was drawn to you and wanted to approach you." He paused, remembering the intensity of first laying eyes on her. "Really?" Her melodious voice brought him back to the present. She raised a brow in her pretty way. He was just as moved as before. "Yes. Seeing you there won me over to the fullest measure." "You are quite taken with my sister, and quite bold." Honora gave him a look of warning. Thank Raphael for that. He was startled by the odd intimacy he felt with Relief that he couldn't explain, except to guess that it was due to all the conversations he had had with Raphael, and all the talks he knew the boy had had with Miss Moore concerning them both. 82

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Relief turned to look at the saucy one, then back at the Viscount. "This is my sister, Miss Honora." "My pleasure." He bowed. "You will be attending my dinner as well? I would be devastated if the two of you did not." Relief smiled warmly. "We will be there, my lord." Warmth flooded his face. "Good day, Miss Moore, Miss Honora, Mrs. Miller." He bowed and left, smiling. **** When Relief, Honora, and a perturbed Mrs. Miller arrived at the house they shared, Relief grabbed her sister's arm and led her quickly inside, chatting some nonsense about the weather. Honora's eyes reflected surprise. They went to Relief's room. "Relief, are you nervous?" "No." "What was that all about then?" "Nothing, Honora. I'm going out tonight." She was not about to alarm her sister with the knowledge of having seen the man, a moment before, who had threatened to kill her in the past. "As Raphael." "Yes, Honora." Mrs. Miller tapped on the bedroom door. Honora opened it and let her in. "Young ladies, you must conduct yourselves better!" Both girls frowned. "Mrs. Miller?" they said together. 83

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"Your behavior! And in front of Lord Cheltham! It was immature. You were brought up in a respectable family, yet both of you acted as if you were orphans, taking liberties, as if the streets were familiar to you." The heat of embarrassment flushed Relief's neck and face. She gazed at Honora whose face had turned red. "Yes, Mrs. Miller," they said together. She censured them with a stern look, nodded and left. Honora gulped, and Relief heard it. "She doesn't know, Nora." "She can't know." "Don't worry, sister." She knit her brows together. "Perhaps my knowledge of the streets has changed my behavior, and my discussions of my wild adventures have changed yours." "No, Leafy. We were always a bit rebellious." Relief grinned, feeling proud. "Yes, we were. It makes us superior to the endless boring women out there. We are braver and infinitely more interesting than they are." "We are braver if only to our own knowledge." Relief shrugged in response. "That will have to do, I suppose. Let the world admire us for our social position. We can admire ourselves for being exciting and courageous." They giggled together and continued to chat. As the room became cast in the shadows of oncoming evening, Honora pulled a box of supplies out of the chest at the foot of the bed. "It's time, Leafy." 84

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She nodded and took her seat in front of the mirror. Honora pulled pins from her sister's hair, and shining brown locks tumbled down. Honora doubled and folded Relief's hair under then greased it down. She slid her hands over Relief's ponytail in the familiar task of making it as thin as possible. "The length of your hair, Relief, and doubled up ... it's fortunate that you have thinned it out with scissors. Still, it is a struggle to make it appear thin. I make it slippery; I squeeze and squeeze again." She sighed. "Then I add more grease." She yanked and ran her hair down the length. "Ow!" "Sorry. Here, that's it. It's still a bit long, but it will do." She wrapped a black strip of silk around it to tighten it up further. "There we are!" she said cheerfully. Relief barely heard her. The pain reminded her of a threat. Earlier, when outside the house, she and Honora had walked toward the entrance. Honora carried on and on over some silly gossip about a neighbor, fluttering her hands in her enthusiasm when the man who intended to harm Relief stood in the shadow of a large tree. He made a gesture to her, sliding the edge of his hand across his throat. A carriage drove by, and when it passed where he had been standing, he was gone! She gasped, but Honora was still in her own little world, talking. Honora hadn't seen what had just happened. Relief trembled in fear. She urged Honora into the house quickly, in the hopes of keeping her ignorant of his presence there. **** 85

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That night, Lord Cheltham pulled up in front of the small house that Raphael said he would be visiting. The lad called on friends unknown to him. The Viscount jumped from the seat of his carriage and made his way to the front door, having made a previous appointment to meet him. He wanted to see his friend and talk about Miss Moore. He chuckled when he realized that he had basically leapt up the steps. As he stood waiting to be greeted at the door, he pondered his odd behavior of late. The only explanation, he mused, is that I'm in love. When Raphael stood before him, the Viscount grabbed his arm. "Raphael, I saw her!" he said gleefully. "I saw her again!" He believed at that moment that he was talking to a brother or a best friend. He wanted to share his good cheer with someone who knew Relief and could appreciate his heightened feelings for her. Raphael returned his good cheer. "So you have!" "She told you?" "Of course." "What did she say? I must know, man!" Raphael smiled. "She believed that your intentions were less than honorable." The Viscount's smile faded. "What?" "Were they?" He frowned. "What if they were?" He resented that. Now Raphael frowned, deeply. 86

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"You were not the first gentleman to attempt to induce her with charm to your cause." "She must have encountered quite a few, and I would wager they all had convincing things to say to her." He was not amused. "Yes, Cheltham." "Miss Moore might be wise to distrust men. They do only want one thing," he said, annoyed, and with a bit of sarcasm. I am not among the group with less than honorable intentions. "She is not stupid." Raphael touched his fingertips to his lips, and then dropped them abruptly. The Viscount narrowed his eyes. There is something familiar ... He looked at his young friend. It chilled him, but he dismissed the weird feelings. "What if I wanted her too, Raphael? She is a beautiful woman." "You are like all the rest." Raphael stretched an arm up and out and reached back to scratch the back of his head. "Maybe I'm not." "If you are not, then say so, to me right now." Raphael lowered his chin and gazed with earnestness at him. "You, Raphael, are close to her, and you suspect my motivations." "Yes." Raphael lifted a finger and wagged it flirtatiously in front of him. Was that—? No it was just mischief that marked the lad's actions. The Viscount wondered at Raphael's playful behavior. 87

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It was almost ... feminine, but he told himself that the boy was just young. "It would be pointless to say either way, lad." The Viscount's shoulders slumped. "I see." Raphael frowned. The Viscount observed Raphael carefully, causing him to take a big step back and look down in a discomfited way. "Come along, Raphael. I seek adventure this night." He hoped to dispel his own irritation. Raphael followed him out the door and into his carriage. "Where are we going?" "Just riding leisurely about town for a bit first, lad." He felt contemplative. They rode around a long while mostly in silence, and when a late hour fell upon them, Lord Cheltham noticed that they arrived in the vicinity of The Theatre Royal. A new portico greeted them at the front entrance on Catherine Street. Raphael eyed him with surprise. "What are we doing here?" Lord Cheltham shrugged. He stopped his carriage, jumped down onto the street, and Raphael followed him towards the entrance of the theatre. A short, squat man greeted them with a suspicious gaze. "Why are you here?" "Do you work for the theatre?" Lord Cheltham inquired. "I do, my lord." A dash of pride coursed through the Viscount. It was nice to be recognized as quality. He pulled some coins out of a pouch hanging at his side. "Can you give us access? We want 88

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to admire the theatre when it holds no audience. I intend to invest." The man's eyes widened and he gave them a knowing grin and took the money. He promptly opened the door and let them in. "You have one hour, and then I lock the door." He parted, counting his money. They entered the building and looked around its vast spaces. It was a beautiful theatre, rebuilt eight years earlier after the old one had burned down. Now it held a little over three thousand people when full, more than five hundred fewer people than before. Fewer seats added a tiny touch of intimacy compared to the old theatre, even though it remained large. "It's dim and empty now, peaceful. I saw Miss Moore here one night, in the loveliest green gown I had ever seen. I couldn't tell you one line from the performance that occurred. I want to envision her here again." The Viscount sat down on the great stage with his feet hanging over the orchestra's pit. He took in a deep breath. Raphael leapt up using his hands and landed on his feet in a crouched position. "What are you thinking about, Cheltham?" He stood up and twirled around. "I might have been an ac-tor," he said, exaggerating the syllables in the word "actor" for effect. The Viscount grinned sadly. "Her." He reflected and pointed. "She sat there." Whirling elegantly, his arm still suspended in the air, Raphael glanced in the direction the Viscount had indicated and placed his feet firmly on the stage floor. 89

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"What is it that troubles you, Cheltham?" The tenderness in the boy's voice took him by suprise The lad obviously cared about him. The Viscount looked up at his friend. "I do not understand it, Raphael. I have to have her; it's as if we were meant to be." Raphael went to the edge of the stage and walked along it, balancing with arms out. "Then once you have her?" He lifted up one leg, bent it and then carefully turned around and walked as if on a cliff, one foot slowly in front of the other. The Viscount squinted and grinned, amused. "I will express my passion for her, my affection and respect." "Lust." Raphael leaped. The Viscount huffed, fearing his friend would take a fall, but to his relief, the lad landed quite expertly. "Yes, Raphael." Raphael faced him. "Did you consider that you might scare her?" His voice belayed his seriousness. A delicate quiver made his words a touch uneven. "What? No! I mean, I would not do anything before we were married." "Do you collect you like her much, as a person?" The Viscount contemplated this a moment. "I should say so. She's intelligent and witty from what I can gather. She seemed exceedingly charming. Her gentle sweetness struck me, but yet there remained something inexplicable about her. You once told me that she was tough, like you. Are all Americans tough?" 90

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Raphael chuckled. "No," he said and did a back flip, and Lord Cheltham wondered at the mystery and talent of his new friend. "It aids my fighting, Cheltham!" His curiosity as to where he learned his skills did not get the better of him though. Pleasure at his new acquaintance warmed the Viscount. Then he chuckled lightly, thinking that he would never see any such display of acrobatic skill from Lord Hawksworth. He found it funny that he would imagine such a thing. Ever since he had made the acquaintance of Raphael, his mind had pondered many wildly interesting and unusual topics, and he was grandly pleased with this new development. "I sensed in Miss Moore a determined lady with a bit of playfulness." A pang of admiration wrapped around his heart. "To say the least, Cheltham. She is a little sauce box; there can be no doubt concerning that. And her temper..." "I cannot fathom such a vision becoming angry. Her blue eyes glowed with delight, and her smile made my heart glad. She appeared pleased to see me." He let out a long breath and thought of her, remembering the good humor in her eyes. Raphael laughed and finally plopped down next to him. "I told you that she has a marked propensity for distrust, too. She was not convinced by you, was she? She screens out her men in unusual ways." He leaned back, and placed his hands behind his head, resting on the stage. "What do you mean by unusual, Raphael?" He turned to face the boy. 91

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"I shan't say because I promised her I wouldn't." The Viscount scoffed. "But she will never be any man's fool." "I have fervent feelings for her. At that moment, his stomach tightened with emotion, and his heart squeezed with something deeply pleasant. To his surprise, she inspired more in him then he would have thought possible. He did know a lot about her after all, from his readings. She came from a public family. There were plenty of stories in the papers about the Moores. "She did say that you were the most handsome man she has ever met." Raphael bit his lower lip coyly. Lord Cheltham studied Raphael. "She did?" A softness about the boy intrigued him and invited him into a more intimate friendship with him. The Viscount's emotions jumbled around, disturbing him for being drawn to a boy, but he dismissed his concerns because the attachment stood fully developed, and for the oddness of it all, when he and Raphael were together, he constantly thought of Miss Moore. He grew to admire her increasingly with each visit with Raphael. This confused him, but he didn't question it, accepting it with a full heart. "And she said that you have a degree of charm, Cheltham." "Really?" "Yes." "My dear lad, do I have a chance with her?" "I do not yet know." 92

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"Tell me more about her, Raphael." Is she as I imagine her to be, all loveliness? Images of her in that green gown flooded his mind, and this theatre atmosphere made him feel nostalgic for that night. He wanted more information about her. Raphael sat up and gestured broadly. "She traveled the world and had quite some adventures." "What else?" Lord Cheltham placed his hand on the stage and pressed his palm down, hanging off Raphael's words. "Her uncle is a jeweler. He deals in rare diamonds. I mention him because he is important to her. He's part of the reason she came to London, indirectly." "Oh?" Lord Cheltham lifted his brow, curious. "Indeed." "Miss Moore comes from wealth, but I thought it was from land." "Yes, but her uncle, her beloved uncle is wealthy by his own means, and he is like a second father to her." "How nice." "They are a close family, Cheltham." "Unlike mine." He closed his eyes and opened them when he felt Raphael touch his hair softly. For some reason, he took no offense to the boy's gesture. He was comfortable with the close nature of their friendship. Raphael gave him a searching look. "Cheltham? I see sadness in your face." He frowned. "My family is cold and distant, with the exception of how I feel for my sister. I care for Joan a great deal." 93

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Raphael looked down now, pensively. "I'm sorry to hear that. Leafy is like family to me, and when something bothers her, it bothers me." "What is it, lad?" "Someone stole her uncle's favorite pink diamond. He was most unsettled afterward." "I imagine so. Those diamonds are rare and expensive." Raphael looked up at him sharply. "It isn't about the money. It was a gift from his wife. He was madly in love with her, and she passed on from illness. He kept the diamond at home and often gazed at it, thinking of his much-loved wife and how much trouble she went through to procure it for him." "Oh?" "Yes, Leafy told him that he needed to keep the diamond locked up, but he refused. He needed to be reminded of his darling Mallie. Somehow the word of the unprotected diamond escaped the family. Leafy and I intend to find his diamond and return it to him, if it means going into dangerous situations to do so." Great interest surged through the Viscount, as he looked at his friend. "Do you have any leads on the case?" "Yes, we know the diamond is here in England. That's one of the reasons Leafy decided to set up her residence here for the time being, though her family had to get back to New York. I am helping her search for clues." Raphael brushed the back of his own neck. "It could be dangerous." The Viscount leaned toward him. 94

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Raphael stretched out his legs and bent forward to touch his toes. He bounced a little then did it again before speaking rapidly. "That is why I must stay active and flexible. If I don't practice every day, I will lose my talent, and who knows what will happen to me on the streets, or even in my own home? It is dangerous times we live in." The Viscount stared at his perturbed friend. "How do you know the diamond is here?" Raphael's hands twisted nervously together then stopped. He clasped his fingers together and stretched them. "The authorities could discover nothing on the case. They eventually closed it, so the family hired a private man who is still on it." He squinted and scratched the side of his head. "Continue, good lad. I do not understand." Raphael cracked the knuckles of his fingers and sighed. "Well, one day Leafy received a sort of ransom note but kept it from her family for fear that they would lock her up to protect her. She would hate that." Visions of a long-faced beauty sighing on her velvet couch disturbed Lord Cheltham. He frowned, unhappy with the thought of a less-than-joyful Leafy. The little lad continued. "An obsessed man who had sent her numerous notes and harassed her said he had the diamond and described it perfectly. He said that if she would succumb to him, he would return it. She pretended to be interested and sent a note with his errand-boy. The man told her to prove her interest by taking up residence in his native London." 95

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A wave of protective anger swept over him. He would allow no harm to come to her. "I see." He listened carefully to Raphael, growing tenser. "Once she arrived, with her sister, one brother, and Mrs. Miller, under the guise of searching out a husband, she received another note. This time the man made indecent proposals. He said he dreamt of seducing her. She told him to go to the devil." The Viscount started. He was offended on behalf of Miss Moore. He fisted his hand and slammed it against his thigh. "Damn him for treating her so!" Raphael blinked in surprise of his passionate reaction, and then he smirked. "He sent a note saying that since she had no idea who he was, there was no need to leave London. He said it was a tragedy that she did not accept his offer." "If I ever found out who he is, I would—" "Pray, Cheltham, do not. She can handle this with my help! Do not get involved." "I am involved, whether you approve or not!" Raphael sighed. "I'm sorry that she won't likely get the diamond back. He will most likely sell it, Raphael, making my dear Leafy unhappy." He swept his hand up in a sharp arc. "No, he wrote that he would not because she had held it. He would stare at it and think of her in the same manner that her uncle gazed at it, pondering his wife. He told her this to torment her, I suppose." "Could this man be a danger to Miss Moore?" He clenched his fists. 96

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"I protect her, Cheltham." "You are not always with her. I am going to win her hand and defend her myself," he stated straightly. He wanted to take her in his arms and never let any harm come to her the whole of her life. "I wait anxiously for the moment she arrives at my townhouse for my party. I will tell her she has my protection." Raphael turned to him angrily. Pride bounced off him and struck the Viscount as if it had been a physical weapon. "I taught her some of my fighting moves! She doesn't need you for protection!"

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Six The Viscount paused a moment, taken off-guard. "I witnessed some of those fighting moves, but you are a boy." Raphael leaned down onto his side and rested his cheek in one hand. "For your knowledge, a person's gender does not determine natural fighting proclivity or talent." "Women don't fight." Raphael let his arm fall and jumped to his feet "Oh? In Georgia, three years past, two women fought a duel!" His mouth dropped open. "You jest!" Raphael put his hands on his hips and lifted his chin. "I do not!" With thoroughly vexed tones, words flew out of his unrestrained mouth. "In fact, my lord, I had an aunt who served as a marine aboard a ship during the War of 1812." "Impossible!" he drawled with mockery, smirking. A small hand pointed to the Viscount with determination. "She disguised herself and fought as well or better than any man of her acquaintance, my lord!" He scoffed and shook his head, swallowing a laugh of disbelief. "Your family would have been mortified!" "My family doesn't know. She told me in confidence before she died!" "I ... do not know what to say." The Viscount's lips twitched with grand amusement, and he dropped his gaze. He sat still, bewildered and mildly put-off, but as he considered the situation longer, his lips formed a smile. His unusual friend took him to another world, well out of the one 98

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he had been confined to for the better part of his life, and he found that he liked it. A bit of adventure felt good. "Ask me where I learned to fight." Raphael casually strolled over to the heavy velvet curtain hanging by the side of the stage, touched the folds, and coughed, waving. "Dust." The Viscount shook his head. "Did you learn your exceptional skills in Asia or from your ... aunt?" Mirth tickled his chest. "Asia." Raphael frowned. "We spent a lot of time there. One of Leafy's best tutors married and moved there. Leafy followed her for a time." "Could you be more specific as to where in Asia?" "No! Leafy and her entourage were there for a couple of years. I could fight to begin with. I also had older brothers to teach me pugilism, but I learned an ancient self-defense art while in Asia." "Fascinating." The Viscount sat up, placed his foot on the wide stage top, and rested his forearm on his bent knee. "I knew that I would be around to protect Leafy for the rest of her life." "And you have no designs on her?" The Viscount curled his fingers into a fist, jealous. "No." Lord Cheltham relaxed, and his friend walked to the center of the stage. He found him to be quite entertaining, theatrical and showy as he watched Raphael drop his arms, approach him, and plop down by his side. "Why in heaven's name not, lad?" 99

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Raphael looked into his face. "I will just give you this: I promise you, on my honor, that I am not the man for Leafy. I care deeply for her, but it is quite impossible for me to be her man. I will not disclose more on this. Just accept my words because it's what she would want." "It's all right, for now." Lord Cheltham glanced up and around, considering the four tiers of the large theatre, the boxes for his type, nobility, and the pit and gallery. He stood and exited the stage door at the side, and Raphael followed suit. While walking out, the Viscount turned his head to glance at the seat he had seen Miss Moore sitting in one night. Raphael grinned and patted his shoulder. They found themselves riding in the carriage once again. The Viscount reached behind them and brought forth a flask. He opened it, took a drink and handed it to Raphael. Raphael hesitantly accepted it and tasted the drink. He winced. "This is strong, Cheltham." Lord Cheltham acknowledged this with a nod. They continued to drink as they rode, passing the flask back and forth. "I have done all of the talking, Cheltham. What about you?" "What do you want to know?" "Surprise me." "Well you know my sister Joan." He thought of her fondly. "Yes." "I have no other siblings." He glanced to the side as they passed dark buildings. 100

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"Please, continue." "Are you screening me Raphael, for the sake of Miss Moore?" He took another sip, turned, and then handed the drink over. "Perhaps." "I was born twenty years ago. How old is Miss Moore?" "Nineteen." The hypnotic rhythm of the carriage and the alcohol had a freeing effect on the Viscount's wits as they rode in silence for a few minutes. His whole being filled with need as sensuous thoughts of Miss Moore flooded his mind and carried him into deeper intention as far as she was concerned. He didn't want to tell Raphael about his thoughts. They were ... intensely intimate. He pictured the lovely Relief smiling, just for him. "Call me Leafy, Benjamin ... " Her voice echoed in his thoughts. He shook out of it and turned to his new best friend. "I enjoy athletic activities, Raphael, things that make my heart race. I enjoy the exhilaration, the feeling of being fit. Fighting. Yes, pugilism is most enjoyable." "And so is keeping a physique that will draw the fine wenches to you." "Rum doxies by the carriage-load, my friend." Where did that come from? The old him slipped out, the man he was before meeting her. "That disgusts me, imagining you rutting with a strumpet in the kitchens or relishing a woman of pleasure in the—" "I have never required the services of a prostitute!" The Viscount snapped. 101

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"Oh, right, sorry. Please forgive me." He narrowed his eyes. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn he had just heard the bitter sound of jealousy in Raphael's voice. Lord Cheltham shook his head to clear it. "You are a man. Would you not also like to be admired by the ladies?" A strange twinge sparked in his chest. What if his friend didn't like ladies, what if he liked-oh well, no matter to him. The Viscount had often dodged his elders for hours at a time when he was younger, and in his torment over an incident with his sister, found himself alone, in the forest, pondering life. He had made a friend while out alone one day, a friend who showed no interest in females. At first when he noticed this, Lord Cheltham derided him, and then began to avoid him. Then he received news that his friend had died in a carriage accident, and he felt the sting of regret. He remembered how he had felt totally at ease with that friend and had dropped him for no good reason. Now he looked at Raphael. If it were true ... fear for his friend squeezed his gut ... the law was very harsh in this matter. But no, he didn't really believe it. "I am looking for one special person to be with." "I see. You are looking for a monogamous relationship." "As is Leafy. Tell me, Cheltham, if you are so concerned about having women chase you, then why have you stated that you are going to marry Leafy?" "All of those other women satisfy my pride. Miss Moore would fulfill much more." "Yes, your lust." He touched his chest and rolled his eyes. 102

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"I do not deny it. I feel my breath leave my body every time I look at her." He made fists then released them with a forced exhalation. "Your desire is obviously grand." Lord Cheltham laughed. "So?" "Tell me something profound." "What?" He chuckled. "Everyone has something weighty that they carry around from their past." "Some more weighty than others, Raphael." How funny that the lad would change the subject so abruptly. "Well, Cheltham?" "I will tell you some other time, perhaps." He rubbed his chin. "Do you gamble much?" Raphael tilted his wrist and flung his hand. "I play cards every week. I gamble a little." Raphael apparently accepted his words. He gave a slow nod of approval. "Cheltham, I sense something about you. You made a promise once, didn't you?" Lord Cheltham sat back. "What do you refer to? Who told you? How did you find out?" He squeezed his hands, angry. "You just told me." "Damn it!" He turned his head sharply and looked out the window, not really seeing the passing landscape outside. He turned back to Raphael. "I could sense something, Cheltham. I knew it. Leafy taught me how to read people." 103

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He squinted. "Are you a gypsy? How the devil did you do that?" Raphael looked out of his window. His voice sounded reflective. Lord Cheltham saw trees now from Raphael's window as they passed along. "We stayed in a gypsies' camp for some time once. I have a talent. What did you promise, and to whom did you do so?" He turned back to face the Viscount. Lord Cheltham sighed. "If you will tell me more about Miss Moore, if you will trust me and allow me to know her better, I will trust you in return." "Agreed. Tell me about your promise first." The Viscount rubbed his hands over his face. "When I was just a lad, my parents had some unusual house visitors." "And?" "Raphael, if I didn't want Miss Moore so much, I would not have mentioned a single word about this. My friends don't know." "I swear I won't say a word. I am your friend, sir, your closest friend, if we are in agreement." He regarded him sternly. "We are. My parents ... they well, when I was only a small boy, I had a baby sister." "Had? But Joan—" "A different baby sister." He tapped his fingers on his thigh. "Oh." "About my parents' visitors—I overhead a conversation one evening, and it disturbed me profoundly." "What did you hear?" 104

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A painful knot of remembrance tightened the Viscount's chest. He considered Raphael, greatly hesitant. "I'll tell Miss Moore that you are a true gentleman, worthy of knowing," Raphael assured him. At this moment, time froze for the Viscount. The thought of the past still had a traumatic effect, but he pictured Miss Moore in a wedding dress. "My sister died." "What?" Raphael said, with the sound of great compassion. "This couple staying with us, they ... after my sister had died as an infant, my parents went overseas. They made a deal. They came home, and I had a new baby sister the same age as my first. No one outside of my family knows this, Raphael." "Your sister was ... replaced ... for a pretty coin, I'd wager. Don't worry," he said softly, with a touch of sadness in his voice. "I will take that secret to the grave." "I believe you. The couple returned later, wanting their daughter back." He dropped his hands into his lap and gazed at them with pensive eyes. "After years?" "Yes. They were told that the baby they had given up was a chosen child." "Chosen for what?" Raphael leaned forward, and the Viscount looked up. He raked his fingers through his hair, stressed, and again regarded Raphael. "The father of this child had an eccentric aunt. She told him one day that it was a shame that they didn't have a 105

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daughter. The couple asked her to elaborate. She told them that she had no children and had wanted to leave her entire fortune to her nearest female relative, which would have been their daughter, had they had one." "And this money was far more than the 'donation' your parents had given them." "Yes. Raphael, you'd better tell Miss Moore wonderful things about me." Sadness made his throat close a touch. "I will." The Viscount continued. "I must be crazy for telling you this." "No, you know in your heart you can trust me." "Like a brother." "Yes, Cheltham." Raphael bent a knee and placed an ankle on the other knee. He draped his arm over his leg and let it hang. The Viscount continued. "This couple told my parents that there would be a curse on the child until she returned home, but my parents wouldn't give her back. It was a matter of some love, but mostly pride. They wouldn't be able to explain her disappearance, and they wanted to keep her out of attachment." "Cheltham—" Raphael touched his own cheek. The gesture reeked of female delicacy. Lord Cheltham shivered. There was something strange about Raphael, but in a pleasant way. He continued. "They hired the strictest security that day to watch over my sister because they were often away. When she was older, they left her care to me. But the evening that I 106

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had heard the original conversation, I turned around, and to my horror, my sister was standing right behind me. She heard everything. She should have been asleep." "What happened?" "She cried in my arms that night, believing she was cursed. She begged me, pleaded with me that I should return her to her country and her true family. She had always wondered why she looked different, and sensed that she was different." "Go on." "I promised her that on her wedding day, I would help her escape. Her nuptials, as young as she is now, fifteen, are scheduled soon. Her real family is set to meet her and dash off with her." "This could be a problem." Raphael grasped his chin in what looked like a deliberately masculine maneuver. "Yes." Lord Cheltham tapped his fingers over his thigh. "What happened?" "My parents arranged the marriage, and her fiancé is a lord. I have to play this off just right. Raphael, I know she is a twit, but I do not want her to go. She is my sister, and I am greatly hesitant to hand her over to strangers. I am deeply troubled about what I might do." "There's more to your story. Your eyes betray you." The Viscount hesitated. "Tell me." "That night, five years ago," Lord Cheltham sighed. "Go on." 107

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He rubbed his eyes. "Can this not wait?" He picked up the flask and turned it upside down, shaking it. Nothing came out. Raphael frowned. "I was just fifteen at the time, my sister ten. She came into my room and pulled me out of my bed. We quietly made our way outside and into the forest behind our home. 'I have to tell you a secret, Benjamin.' 'What are we doing here, Joan?' She picked up a stick and walked over to a large tree. She brushed aside some underbrush and used the stick to unearth a box." "And?" Raphael leaned closer, hanging off his words. "She opened the box and withdrew a knife." He stopped. "For the love of God, Cheltham, you must stop pausing and tell your deuced story!" Lord Cheltham bore severity into his young friend's eyes. "What I tell you, Raphael—" "If you do not want to tell me—" "I've carried this burden for a long time. But tell me something first." Raphael looked up and to the side, thinking, then back down at the Viscount. "This is very private information, Cheltham. People don't know this—I can't marry Relief because we are related. She and I are as close as family can be, and she trusts my judgment without question. If you do not believe me, you can ask her yourself sometime," Raphael said seriously. "I believe you. Mrs. Miller—" 108

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"She doesn't know. She's never met me. I always wait for the girls outside of their home to protect them ... from a distance. I meet with Leafy in person after Mrs. Miller has retired each evening. We discuss many things." "I will not tell her." "Thank you." He nodded. "The box that Joan pulled out was jeweled, very exotic. She picked it up, and the moonlight flickered upon it. 'What are you going to do with that, Joan?' 'My real family sent an envoy. It seems I am important back home. My real parents don't want me back for the sake of money. They weren't even my true parents. They finally told the truth.' Raphael, her tender voice broke my heart. 'What?' I asked Joan, greatly perplexed. 'What do you mean?' 'They stole me from the palace.' I felt sick when I heard that. 'The palace?' She smiled at me wickedly. 'I am a princess. The people who claimed to be my parents worked for my mother, a queen. They needed me back, or they faced execution. They didn't dare tell the king the truth that they had sold me. They said I was kidnapped while under their care. The king demanded they find me or die.'" Raphael blinked in astonishment. "My God, Cheltham." "Joan was told by this envoy that the couple who sold her to my parents, whom I'll refer to as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, were followed to London by an agent. Mr. and Mrs. Smith's hired envoy had been their friend, and he approached Joan, telling her that he found them dead, killed by an agent of her home palace. He was angry to say the least. He demanded vengeance against my parents, Raphael, my parents here in 109

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London, the Earl and Countess, in the name of honor. They were the root of all this trouble. The Smiths would still be alive had they not gone baby-hunting in the first place. Mother could not have children after the second." "What happened next?" His hushed voice gave the Viscount chills. The alcohol had worn off. Raphael clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. "Joan looked me in the face and said that I was to be the one who would satisfy this sense of vengeance, a child for a child. Her eyes had wildness in them, as if someone had given her something. She came at me with the knife." "What did you do?" He paused a moment and fisted his hands. "I nearly killed her. Why did I react that way? The one moment, the moment the blade pierced her, haunts my mind in slow-motion. She almost died because I tore the weapon from her hand and plunged it into her. It was just a reaction, and I can't explain it! As she bled on me, she looked up into my face and said, 'I love you brother,' then she fell insensible. "I approached my parents, numbly carrying her limp, bloody body. I insisted on nursing her back to health. She hated me at first. My parents still do. They sent me away for a few years to America. "Joan and I finally reconciled after great effort on my part, so many heartfelt letters. When I came back to England, I promised to return her to her original family. I had to. I will never forget what it felt like to take that knife from her and thrust it into her gut. It happened so fast I couldn't think, 110

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only react, but still, I will never forget." He looked over at Raphael whose eyes were now closed. Raphael's eyes came open. "That would explain your desire to be so deuced protective, as annoying as that is. What happened with the envoy?" Lord Cheltham frowned. "There was no real envoy! He was a paid actor. Mr. and Mrs. Smith and the actor lied to Joan. They made the whole thing up! There was no agent, no killing. The Smiths were desperate to have her back, and my parents would not release her, so they wanted to make them understand the loss of a child. And if I died by Joan's hand, then surely in their disgust, the Earl and Countess would return Joan to her nearest relative, Mr. Smith's aunt, and the Smiths would get their money." Raphael leaned forward and reached to touch him but retracted his hand and grasped it within his other. He blinked as if checking himself. Lord Cheltham continued. "When Joan was hurt though, bleeding in that forest, they made an appearance, under the moonlight, as I held her, crying over her. They told her the truth, kissed her and begged forgiveness. They assumed she was dying and apparently left the country. "We did not hear from them until Joan became older and found how to contact them from our father's private records. She sent a servant to deliver the message. So, I am to help her go to her real parents and claim her private fortune from her great aunt and a family that doesn't love her but only used her. Only she won't accept that last part. She wants to know who she really is. I almost killed her over a lie, a little 111

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girl. Raphael, I deeply regret what I did. I can't forgive myself." Raphael gave him a long look. "You are not a bad man. This is why you flaunt an exuberant nature, isn't it? To hide the torment that eats you alive. You are not to blame, Cheltham. And to prove it, I will tell Leafy that I recommend you. I am deeply touched by all you have told me. I will speak to her on your behalf." He looked at Raphael, his mind filled with hope. "You would do that for me?" "Leafy, or Relief if you prefer, is American. She is a pioneer and has seen trauma in her life as well. She has not been pampered or sheltered, I will have you know, though the male members of her family tried. Relief found a way around that." The Viscount smirked. "Cheltham, you often have that cynical smile on your face. Why?" He shifted in his seat. "You have said that Miss Moore is a distrustful person. That probably comes from having seen the world and all the people in it. I have not been to all of the places she has been to, only some. I have not needed to. A simple stroll on the streets of London Town will make anyone believe in the selfish motivations of people, Raphael." "I suppose that not everyone is selfish. Leafy is not. Her uncle is not." "So not everyone deserves to be doubted. They should be screened first though, before trusting them right?" he said mockingly. 112

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"That is not a fair statement. Leafy is a beautiful woman. She must be careful." "I agree." "You should understand, Cheltham." "I do. Where do you come from exactly?" "New York, like my family." "How old are you?" "Nineteen." Raphael dropped his gaze. "Interesting. The same age as Miss Moore. You resemble her mildly. Are you her cousin?" He lowered his head, trying to get a closer look at his friend. Raphael scooted to the far corner of the seat. The Viscount couldn't get a good look in the dark anyway. "Let's talk about something else. Where are we going?" "To fight crime, lad." Raphael's face lit up, from what he could tell. "Good. I am very well pleased to hear that." "To the back slums. We will not use a weapon unless the situation turns dire." Raphael grinned. "Something to prove, Cheltham?" "Only to ourselves, my friend. So nothing but a bunch of fives tonight unless our lives depend on the use of more!" He stated, smiling and throwing up his fist. "I have a change of clothes here." When they arrived on the boisterous, streets filled with the effluvium of city life, the smoke, urine, and various other indefinable scents, they stepped out and began to walk. It started to sprinkle rain. 113

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Raphael stuck his tongue way out of his mouth and closed his eyes. He stretched out his hands, waving his fingers. "Raphael?" "The raindrops are little bits of life itself, and I want to feel them on an intimate level." He opened his eyes and spun around exuberantly. Lord Cheltham faced his friend, smiling widely. "What are you doing, lad?" "Ah, Cheltham, I am enjoying the dog's soup!" "The what?" He laughed. "The rain water, you deuced lord. You need to walk out a little farther from your fancy townhouse once in a while." "That's why I accompany you, my good boy! It seems I have much to learn. Dog's soup, that's bloody funny!"

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Seven "You are the finest friend I have ever had! This is better than fighting just for the sake of fighting," the Viscount informed his young friend. They had enjoyed a great night fighting crime. Genuine cheer lightened his heart. He gloried in the shared moments of victory and usefulness of his actions with his young friend. They celebrated the exciting evening drinking, singing like happy sailors had done in the past, when celebrating battles won against the French on the high seas when Napoleon seemed to rule the world. When at last they said good night, Lord Cheltham slapped Raphael on the shoulder. "Perhaps I will bring you with me to the P.C. one of these times." "The P.C.?" Raphael asked. "My pugilistic club. See me serve it out to some poor fellow." Pride welled in the Viscount's heart. "I am sure you are one who beats Banaghan." Raphael shook his head, staring at his feet. "Who is Banaghan?" Raphael laughed, raising his gaze to him. "It's an Irish expression. I spent some time in Ireland. It means that I believe you have some fine stories to share concerning your fighting skills." "Many, and they are all true!" "Let's hear them then!" 115

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"Some other time, my friend! Raphael you're a colonist, so you know American ways well," he grinned, teasing his friend. Raphael smirked. He was too young to remember colonial days, and the Viscount knew it. Lord Cheltham was playing with him, knowing the lad didn't consider America to be the colony that many Englishmen still called it. "Do I ever sound American to you, lad?" Raphael gave him a look of wonder and raised his brow. "At times. Why?" "I have done research, read papers and books, spent some time there—" "Does this have anything to do with Relief being American?" "Everything, lad. She does not seem the type to fall in love with a starched Englishmen." Lord Cheltham chuckled then continued. "I never see myself that way, but I suppose a wild American might." Lightness filled his heart. Raphael showed his pleasure with an obvious smile. He was not offended with the good-hearted teasing. "She carries the influence of many cultures. She is not strictly American in her mannerisms." He paused and looked up, as if searching his thoughts. "I just remembered, Cheltham. I'm sorry I must leave to meet her now. She is expecting me." "By all means." It's becoming closer to being a reality-she will be mine! Raphael saluted him and left. The Viscount watched him dash off, and he smiled. Miss Moore would be proud of me for tonight. 116

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They had strolled along the Docks to the south of the River. There in dank corners passed over by developers, slums such at St Giles and Seven Dials existed. He and Raphael had encountered many destitute people with hopeless, hollow eyes. The crime-fighting pair stopped a rape tonight. The Viscount rubbed his fists, feeling quite excellent at having torn the man off of a poor, half-starved, large-eyed lass just trying to make her way to the hole in the wall in which she lived. Lord Cheltham had shown her attacker what it felt like to be a victim. The girl thanked him three times, while nervously glancing at her felled attacker, and then she ran off. Raphael had stood ten feet away, arms crossed over his chest, nodding, with deep pride making his face light up. A delight the Viscount had never known before intoxicated him. The rewards for helping others were beyond imagination. He'd made a difference, and he knew it. **** The next morning Cheltham's noble friend, the Earl, Lord Hawksworth, paid him a call. He had a newspaper in his hand and casually dropped it on the table before the Viscount. Lord Cheltham put down his steaming, rich, delicious cup of coffee and smiled. He knew his story had made the papers, for he had already read the article. Smooth contentment melted inside of him like butter left out in the sun. He rather appreciated being relieved of the guilt he carried after the incident with his sister five years before, culpability that made him feel like a cad. 117

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"Cheltham, it seems we now have two crime fighters, wearing masks. Imagine that!" He took a seat across from his old friend. Lord Cheltham smiled. "Would you care for some coffee, my friend?" Hawksworth shook his head, and Cheltham waved his hand at an approaching maid. She retreated. "I have to wonder why they would constantly risk their lives. Strangers do not care a bit for them!" "Perhaps that is not the point." Cheltham enjoyed the honorable sense of selflessness resting quietly in his heart. The Earl glanced at him. "You do not think that they do it out of concern for their fellow citizens?" He tapped his fingers over the newspaper article. "Oh, I would wager they do," Lord Cheltham said. "I just don't believe they require their gratitude or love in return." He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. "How virtuous." Hawksworth chuckled. "They are nobler than us who hold titles, would you not say? What irony!" He mocked. He did not really mean that. Lord Cheltham watched his friend carefully, leaning back in his seat, searching for a sign of suspicion towards him in his friend's eyes. None existed. His secret was safe. However, Hawksworth mocked two men helping others for no reward. "It could be, Hawksworth," he said, slightly vexed, "that they do it for the adventure. It would be quite entertaining to jump over short walls at breakneck speed, and chase down a thief with a short blade in your hand, to turn dark corners, 118

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not knowing if a pistol will pop up in your face, saving the day, looking for hubbubs." Hawksworth laughed. "I am obliged to believe that those men would be safer just being involved with carriage races!" He dusted off the shoulder of his fine dark jacket with patrician self-assurance. The Viscount grinned and leaned forward. He lifted his china-cup to his lips and savored the fine brew. Gently, and with well-bred concision, he placed it back on its matching saucer. "There's more mystery involved with this, Hawksworth. I imagine these two fellows sometimes have to track down the perpetrator following a line of clues." The Earl raised one brow and picked up the gold-topped cane that he had rested against the table. "You sound as if you have inside information. Tell me, do you?" He gave the Viscount a look of keen interest. Lord Cheltham shrugged. "No. There is no way I could understand the motivations of ruffians." He consciously added a tinge of boredom to his voice. The Earl considered him for a long moment, and then his lip curled into a smirk. He scoffed. "Of course not." A light chuckle fell from his lips. "About more pleasant issues—your party is soon. The beauty is going to be here." Lord Cheltham noted the change of expression in his friend's eyes to one of admiration. He disguised his annoyance with a serious voice. "I'm going to marry her, I promise you." The statement was spoken with absolute knowledge. 119

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"You seem sure about that, Cheltham. The parson's mousetrap," he grinned and grasped the top of his cane. "I adore her." He rested his temple against his fingers. "You are known to her?" A stream of impatience rippled through him when he thought of how his association with her was not as close as he wanted it to be. "Only vaguely. I am well acquainted with one of her confidants, her guard. I paid him for good information." Hawksworth grinned. "Really?" "I think him a pleasant little lad." He touched the handle of his cup, absentmindedly. "Will he be attending as her guard?" "No. He has personal business to attend to." He did not say that he knew Raphael would not fit in with his noble crowd of friends. Something shifted within the Viscount's awareness. He stood and walked with Hawksworth out of the room and chuckled lightly, greatly pleased at the transformation that was occurring within him. A bit of snobbery had exited his body, like airing out a room. He tried to conjure up higher-ranking dominance over Raphael, as he passed the fine paintings hanging on the walls of his home, but he couldn't. He pictured the spirited boy, standing near the Docks with proud little fists resting on his hips, and the Viscount couldn't suppress an acute sense of gratitude at making his acquaintance. His life had improved greatly since knowing the boy, and his attitude had changed. He found himself smiling more often. His angry parents would never approve, and neither would his friends. Drowning in his 120

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thoughts, he barely noticed as Hawksworth nodded and walked out the door. **** Leafy glanced into the mirror as Honora combed out her hair. "You are so lovely, Leafy, and so talented." Upon seeing the pout of her little sister's lips in the reflection, Leafy turned to look at her. "Do not be jealous, Honora. You are the more graceful, ladylike of the two of us. I am a restless hoyden." Honora grinned. "True, but only half the time." "And, I would not be able to practice that which makes me happy without you." She reached and grasped Honora's hand for a second. My darling sister, you are so gracious. "You are indispensable to me." Leafy stood up and put her arms around her. "I am so grateful you are my sister. Continue to help me, Honora, for I need it. Shall I buy you a diamond necklace?" "With pink diamonds?" Light crossed her features. Relief smiled and shrugged. "If you find our uncle's diamond Leafy—" "I will return it to him. It means too much to him," she said firmly. "It would mean plenty to me, to wear it around, as if I were the special one." "You are special, Honora, and beautiful. I fancy that my prince, as you have called him, has noble friends. If attention is what you want, then perhaps you will meet a suitor at the 121

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party. Then you can prance about in fine fashion, on the arm of a nobleman." She took a few steps, exaggerating a very proper gait, and spun around to face her sister. "Do you really believe so, Leafy?" she said in hushed excitement, blushing as if she believed her sister's promise. "Yes," she said, lifting her chin in confidence, placing her hands on her hips. "But then I will lose my best friend, sister and superb make-up artist." He will take you far away from me, and I will have much less time on the streets because it will take me forever to prepare by myself. She sighed. "I will visit you often," Honora assured. "It will not be the same. But do not misinterpret me," Leafy added, opening her palms in gesture. "I will be happy for you, once you find your Mr. Wonderful." She placed her hand on Honora's arm, smiling. Honora covered her sister's with her own hand. "Mr. Wonderful, yes, I can hope." "I love you, Honora." Fierce loyalty burned in her heart. Encompassing gratitude colored her soul as she gazed upon her best friend. "I love you, too." Moments later, a note was delivered to their door. It was addressed to Relief. She picked up the folded notepaper and opened it. It was from Lord Cheltham. She smiled. Her heart danced, and she imagined him touching her face with tenderness, leaning to kiss her. "What does it say, Leafy?" Honora bounced like an impatient child. 122

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Leafy let a light chuckle fall from her lips. "It says that Lord Cheltham anticipates my arrival in all eagerness. That he is moved by my charm and left breathless by my beauty." She pressed the letter to her chest. "One cannot but believe that he's in love. He is all-a-mort when you only cast a glance his way." She touched Leafy's shoulder. "Ah, how fortunate you are to be loved that way!" She giggled, her jealousy ringing with true happiness for her big sister. "I doubt it. Men use those words to achieve their desired ends." She smirked, hoping to hear her sister argue this point. My prince must be different. He must. "We could find out, Leafy." Curiosity tingled through her, knowing that Honora was capable of some very strange things. "What do you have in mind?" "I'm the makeup genius, remember?" "Ah, I see where this is leading. I'm going to play the part of Daniel tonight," Leafy said. She looked over at the armoire on the other side of the richly carpeted room. Honora nodded and crossed over to the boxes of men's clothes resting, covered by the wardrobe. "Most of these male clothes are for an adolescent street lad, but we were wise enough to..." She dug in a box. "I found it, the expensive suit!" ****

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The Viscount welcomed an unexpected visitor, a gentleman with long sideburns bearing a gift. Crinkles adorned the man's stern blue eyes at the corners. He looks like Relief, but years older! He must be closely related to her. I wonder how he received that scar on his chin. The stranger sported the clothes of a rich man. A doublebreasted tail coat with turned-back cuffs and a matching high collar of velvet rested on his frame with precision and grace. His white waistcoat, shirt and cravat fairly glowed with wealth. Light-colored pantaloons rounded out his costume. The upper-class fellow bowed. "My lord, I am Daniel Moore, oldest brother of Miss Moore, and Miss Honora." His voice rang with sophistication, but he was clearly American. He was probably schooled here or in Paris. Lord Cheltham couldn't have been more surprised to see him standing here at the threshold of his home. Wonderful! Perhaps he is here to consider if I am worthy of his sister's hand. Progress! Lord Cheltham led him to the drawing room with a long table. His visitor surprised him by sitting on the side, a little close. An American custom. "My lord, might we share this exquisite wine while we visit?" Lord Cheltham stood and took the bottle from his hands. "So you are Miss Moore's brother, Daniel?" "I am. Our family friend, Raphael, has mentioned that you have serious intentions concerning my sister." 124

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Lord Cheltham smiled. "Indeed, I do." He fetched some glasses from a cabinet against the far wall and brought them back to the table. "Understand, my lord, I would not normally bring wine on an occasion such as this, but it's from the family stock. We used to be dealers." That explains that. "You appear to be a man who wishes to talk." He poured the crimson liquid into the glasses, sat, and saluted Daniel before sipping his wine. Daniel followed suit. "Yes. I would wish to know you a bit. I hear you've been to New York?" "Yes, Mr. Moore. I spent a few years in America, though very little of that time in New York. My family and I ... thought it best that I ... widen my horizons." Daniel leaned forward in his seat. "Did you not tour the continent?" "If you refer to Europe..." "Yes." "Then, no. I mean, it was originally intended that I go, as men of my class usually do." He chuckled. Painful memories washed over him. "However, I'm a bit of a, well..." Daniel studied him. "Go on. If you wish to wed my sister, then I insist on perfect honesty." Lord Cheltham sighed. "I do not wish to be judged harshly." "I am an American, sir. We see things somewhat differently on our side of the Atlantic. Tell me what's on your mind." He sipped his wine. 125

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Lord Cheltham shrugged and took a big swallow of his drink. "Yes, well, my parents decided that I was rather unconventional, and they wanted to punish me." "Punish you?" Daniel's brow wrinkled into a frown. "Indeed. I didn't see it as a punishment. They did, on the assumption that America was a callous land that would make me appreciate my origins all the more." Daniel leaned back. "I see." "The little while I spent in New York was well worth my while; though I did not have the opportunity to stay there long. I would have liked to understand life there better." "New York is home. I love it. Relief always wanted to travel though..." Lord Cheltham leaned closer at the mention of her name. "Sir." Daniel shook his head. "Let me tell you about our home." "I would be delighted." The Viscount took another sip, gripping his glass as his heart pounded with thoughts of his beloved Relief. Daniel discussed many things, including the need to create opera houses for the American public. Lord Cheltham listened with great interest. After a while, the wine was gone. Lord Cheltham brought another two bottles for them to enjoy after complimenting Daniel on the excellent bottle he had brought with him. Daniel went into the topic of fine wines and his family's former industry. They drank and talked as the hours ticked away. Lord Cheltham's head started spinning. He hadn't drunk this much in quite some time, but Daniel was an easy fellow to chat 126

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with. After plenty of good-humored conversation, and even more drink, his tongue loosened. He might have known this New Yorker all his life. The Viscount rubbed his temples. "So tell me, my lord," Daniel said, his speech slurred, "about you and the ladies. You probably have your fair share, a good-looking gentleman such as yourself." His puffed-up ego filled him with pride. Uninhibited freedom flowed through his veins courtesy of the drink. An urge to stand up and dance surged through him, but he controlled it-barely. I'm deboshed! He shouted in his mind with great amusement. "Yes. I'm a god to women. I do not even have to spend too much Spanish coin. They come to me without the flowery words." He paused, thinking of Relief sliding a silky nightgown off in his bed chamber. The gown would fall to the floor, and he would lift his hand to touch his beautiful lady, aroused more than he had ever been before. He took a large sip of wine, and muttered his thoughts out loud, unintentionally. "But what I really want is to take your beautiful sister to bed. God do I want that. I want to prig with her until I'm silly in the noddle, unable to even recall what day it is. I can manage it. I'll seduce her with my great charm. I've got to have her. I love her." The glass fell from Daniel's hand, and his mouth dropped open. Lord Cheltham's head suddenly fell over to the side and hit the table, then his glass also fell to the floor. He was out cold. 127

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Relief gripped the leather bag resting on her lap. It contained a sealed jar she had spit wine into whenever Lord Cheltham's notice had turned elsewhere. **** The next day Lord Cheltham's head pounded with a headache. He had no appetite. "I need air," he muttered to himself and strode out his front door. He walked past the long crescent of townhouses and kept going, his head in the clouds as he endeavored to remember the visitor who came to see him the night before. He recollected the gentleman's face and clothes and that he was from New York. He remembered they had had good-natured conversation, but he could not recall much of what it had entailed. A little distance from his home, tired of walking, he hailed a hackney cab. He told the driver to just drive around London. Relief and Honora walked past some shops, chatting. His heart began racing. "Stop!" he ordered the driver. He jumped out quickly, tossed the driver some coins and approached the ladies. They noticed him and turned away. His heart fell to his feet. What had that been about? He took impatient steps up to them, finally stood before them, and bowed, holding his breath. "Ladies." 128

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He glanced quickly from Honora to Relief and smiled. A loose brown curl fell to her shoulder from beneath her charming velvet bonnet. You're so beautiful. The ladies lifted their pretty chins and attempted to walk past him. He stepped to the side, blocking their paths, frowning, somewhat mortified at his rude demonstration. It was not the behavior of a nobleman, but it wasn't something to be helped. "Miss Moore? What is the matter?" He swallowed the gripping fear in his throat, worried that he had disgusted her. "Oh really, Lord Cheltham, do not play the fool. It is not at all becoming." "I—I really do not understand. What have I done that requires your utter dismissal?" He was a besotted schoolboy again. They dashed to the side and darted beyond him, but he kept pace with them. I must be mad, but I can not let her go like this! When they arrived at the end of a row of shops, Relief spun and faced him. He stopped in his tracks, awaiting her words with complete interest. She gripped her reticule. "You were quite drunk. Perhaps you do not have recollection." "Recollection of what?" Oh, dear. What did I do that I can not recall? She squinted and looked at him suspiciously. "Of what you said to my brother, Daniel." 129

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He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "He called last night. What did I say? I remember discussing opera, and wine..." Then I was deeply deboshed and don't remember a thing from that point. Relief looked side to side. She stepped off the main path, out of the way, to a more private spot behind a shop. Honora stood beside her, her arm laced in her sister's. "Do not think to use my sister's heart then destroy it." He shook his head frantically. "No!" "Our brother..." Relief interjected, looking quickly at Honora, and then back at him. She sighed and left her next words unspoken. He grew cold. "What did he tell you? Did he say I was unworthy?" "Yes. Now if you will excuse me, my lord." She shook her head. "And to think, I was starting to feel some esteem for you. Raphael told me you were brave and helped those less fortunate than yourself. Raphael said I would find you dashing as you saved others." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "I am most devastated." She brushed past him. "Wait, Miss Moore! Please!" He grabbed her arm, in shock, barely even realizing what he did. He couldn't believe the rush of hot feelings that overcame him with the contact between them. His world exploded around him. I can not live without her. I will go mad without her. He certainly was not used to acting with such lack of decorum. 130

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"Unhand me!" She glanced hotly at his hand on her arm. "I will not be a guest at your party." His hand fell slowly to his side. Shame raced through him for having touched her so. "Miss Moore, hear me out." His voice sounded raw to his own ears. She took a step to walk away, head held high. "Do not walk away from me; you mean too much to me." Hushed sadness filled the air. Honora tilted her head, and the ladies quickly proceeded forth. Lord Cheltham watched, in a wretched state, stunned and barely breathing. The girls rushed ahead to remove themselves. As he watched, as man in a ragged jacket and trousers turned the corner of a shop and reached to snatch Relief's bag. Relief spun around and used the palm of her hand to knock him out, striking his jaw. Cheltham stared openmouthed. Relief looked quickly from side to side to see if anyone had witnessed that scene. Her shoulders fell in a gesture of relief when it appeared that no one had seen her. Then her eyes met Lord Cheltham's and became filled with fear. She visibly paled as he approached her. His eyes were drawn to her hand, clutching her reticule so tightly that her knuckles went white, and she shifted her wrist. Oh my God. A small flower-shaped birthmark adorned her hand near her delicate wrist. Raphael has that same birthmark! He was deeply puzzled, and his mind raced with imaginings of how this could be so. 131

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They are closely related. Raphael could be the bastard brother the family does not talk about. "Will you not discuss this incident with anyone, my lord?" She trembled. "Miss Moore, my dear, please tell me you are unhurt." Her gaze fell to her feet. "I am quite well, my lord." He tilted his head and stretched his neck to get another glimpse of her hand. She pulled it away and hid it behind her back. He would not distress her further by mention of it. "Come to my party," he whispered as sadness still gripped him with its cold hands. "Or?" "Need I say?" God, why did I have to use this against her? It hurts her, but I'm desperate. It is a bluff, of course. She raised an eyebrow. "You will..." He sighed, "I—" "You'll—" "Please, Miss Moore," it came out as an entreaty. "Very well, but I dare say I do not see the point." He grieved with inner pain. "What did I speak of, Miss Moore? I do not recall the entire conversation with your brother. I was quite in my cups. He and I got on most well. I wonder you should not have noticed that I am lost, not knowing how I offended you, not having called on you formally yet. I wish to pay you court." He touched his stomach. His eyes burned with tears, and he blinked them back. She studied him for a long moment. He knew that no one could mistake his sincerity. She hesitated, and then stepped 132

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towards him. His mouth opened slightly, but he muttered not a sound. One could almost feel a plea in the silence that hung in the air between them. "My lord, our escort, Mrs. Miller is ill with a megrim, resting currently. We must not be seen having this conversation." Light began to fade, and the air grew cooler with approaching evening. He lowered his voice. "Give me a chance, Miss Moore," he said. "I can not stop thinking of you. For how long am I to endure the emptiness of not knowing you better?" She leaned forward and scrutinized his expression. He waited. She could not but see the raw truth he offered. There was no smarmy charm pouring from his essence as he had offered other ladies in the past. "I have one question, my lord." "Yes?" "Do you believe a woman has a right to pursue interests that will make her happy?" He looked at her cautiously, holding his tongue for a moment as he contemplated his next words carefully. "Such as a strong degree of independence?" "Yes." I called that one right. He gave her a long, intense look. "It was to be called into question initially, but now I am convinced otherwise. Things have happened to change my mind on the issue." "Even if his friends will mock him for it?" "Yes." 133

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She smiled endearingly, seeming impressed. "I have another question." He smiled, charmed. "By all means, my dear lady." Hope filled his heart as he regarded her. "What if this hypothetical lady had fighting abilities? Let's say she had an ... unusual hobby." "What ... kind of hobby?" He knit his brows. She glanced up, then down again and hesitated before answering. His heart beat faster. He sensed trouble. "Bringing criminals to justice." He gasped, shocked. "If a woman is fortunate enough to have the ability to defend herself in the manner that I just witnessed with you, you can not suppose me to take issue with such a lady for doing so. Beyond using those skills for any other purpose, I am most adamantly against that. A lady should not purposefully place herself in the line of danger. I would strictly forbid such a situation. You do not harbor the idea of accompanying Raphael?" His eyes widened. "No, of course not!" she said too quickly for his taste. "Miss Moore, please," he said softly. "I beg you will not do anything foolish. If you were to get hurt, my heart would break." He reached to touch her. Honora yanked her away. "My lord, please!" She turned to Relief. "Come. Mrs. Miller will grow worried if we do not return before dark." Honora pulled her forward. "You are right, Nora." Her eyes met his. "My lord." She curtseyed. "Again, ladies, I am quite sorry for unsettling you." 134

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Relief tilted her elegant head in acceptance of his repentance. He returned home, happy. **** The Moore sisters sat in their small yellow parlor drinking Black Bohea tea. "Leafy, he will die without you." Relief scoffed and brushed her hand through the air. "He barely knows me." But he does. "He knows you well. You are his closest friend." "Raphael is his closest friend." Keep talking, Honora, and reinforce my hopes. "Raphael is you. You do not alter your personality when you play the part." "No. Lord Cheltham knows the real me, he just doesn't realize it. It's all in the presentation." His respect for me as Raphael is grandly obvious. "He senses something. He likes the real you, the uninhibited you, Leafy." "Yes, Honora, I believe so. He and Raphael are close. When Lord Cheltham and I were together just now, an undeniable fondness, a tie bound us together." A tie I never hope to break, but I do not see how— "You are in love with him." A burning passionate love that roves through my body with waves of fiery flames, threatening to leave me without my senses. "Yes. I fell in love some time ago, seeing the honor in his activities helping out poor victims on the streets." 135

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"And he is in love with you." Relief set her tea cup down upon the tea table and closed her eyes. She opened them and looked at her sister as desperation coursed through her. "He wouldn't let me fight, Honora. Raphael would have to die." Acute sadness sliced through her and left her despondent, imagining a life without him. Honora touched her sister's arm. "Then I imagine we will have to take sweeping steps." Relief chuckled, but with sadness. "Everything I do is extreme, Nora." "Then we will have to push things further." Relief nodded. "You are quite right."

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Eight "You poor dear," Honora said and glanced around the salon of their lovely home. Fragile tea cups rested on a silver tray on an expensive antique table. "Hmm." "What is it?" Relief asked. "Here we are in our little yellow sanctuary having our tea, acting as we should act—as little ladies, all the while..." Relief chuckled. "Our salon is a nice place to reflect and chat, but oh, I could never be satisfied with doing only these kinds of things!" She clapped her hands together and rested them in her lap. Honora nodded energetically. "Honora, I couldn't, I just couldn't give up my street adventures." She shook her head. "I find myself looking up into his eyes at every profitable moment." She reached for a perfumed handkerchief propped next to the tea tray. Twisting it, she continued her discourse. "In the guise of a man, it is not unexpected that I should look at him so directly. The problem is, my heart speeds up whenever I do this." "You're really in love with him." "Yes. I think about him constantly. I want to kiss him." Honora smiled. "So do." "He rarely sees me in my true form, Nora." "Next time you see him, in your true form, pull him into the deepest kiss you can conjure up." Relief dropped the handkerchief, and a quiet gasp escaped her. "You are positively scandalous!" 137

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"We have seen and experienced dozens of cultures together, Leafy. Do not feign to be so shocked." Honora leaned closer to her from where she now sat and took her hands in her own. "I should not wonder at it if you were dreaming of it as we speak." Relief laughed. "I cannot kiss him, not after what he bespoke to Daniel." "Oh, that." "Yes, that." "He said he loved you, Relief?" "Yes." "Was he sincere?" Relief dropped her gaze and muttered sadly. "Yes." "Men in love often want to take their women to bed, Leafy. Love flames the fires of lust, my dear sister." "How would you know?" "I've experienced a couple of dozen different cultures with you, Leafy! I picked up a few tidbits of knowledge not known everywhere too, you know. I made some interesting friends myself, and spoke to plenty of people on my own behalf!" She grinned widely. "True, we have seen coupling in the shadows of the streets, people pressed against brick walls, men across the river professing their love without shame, and then kissing their women wildly, not caring who saw. It ... excited me." She leaned and touched her head affectionately against her sister's. ****

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Lord Cheltham met Raphael on a dark street, and they donned their masks. "You cut a fine figure, Cheltham." Don't stare at his tight breeches. You were brought up better than that. All that coupling in the streets—dear God it was erotic. Benjamin and I—Both sides of her nature battled each other—her upperclass ladylike upbringing and her primitive desires, fed by all the overt sexuality she witnessed on the streets. His tall, muscled body had a disturbing effect on her selfcontrol. She inhaled deeply, the craving to kiss him screaming in her mind. He loves me. He wants to marry me. "Raphael, are you well?" She looked up as he tied his hair into a small queue. "The hair is becoming." He smiled. "I hope Miss Moore finds it to be. It is now longer than the current fashion." "She told me she likes it." He took a step closer, and she inhaled. Awareness of his total masculine appeal made her dizzy. "She did?" "Yes." "I find her long hair becoming." "Good, because she will not cut it to suit the current fashion." "I should hope not." "Do you care about her, Cheltham?" He frowned. "What kind of question is that?" "Well?" 139

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"The only other person I care for as much as her is my sister Joan." "Joan is important to you." "Yes." Sweet tenderness rushed her heart. He's a good brother. "Cheltham?" "Let's walk, Raphael." "Right." They found themselves strolling by the river where crime intensified due to many opportunities for theft on the various cargo ships. Both were alert to possibilities and glanced around, looking for trouble. "What did you want to know, Raphael?" "Will you be honest with me?" "Of course." "Do you want Miss Moore for her money?" "What?" He snapped and stopped walking. He faced Raphael, and his eyes blazed with vexation. He narrowed them, shook his head, and cupped his ear for emphasis. "Did I just hear you correctly, Raphael?" "Well? I detected some time ago, that your sit-situation—" This was truly embarrassing, but a necessary evil. "What about my situation?" "Perhaps, you are—er—well—experiencing some financial trouble." Heat flushed her cheeks. "First of all, Raphael, if I am—" She shook her head. "I am deeply sorry. I had no right." "Damn right you didn—" He thrust his finger in the air at her, froze it midair then let his hand fall to his side. 140

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Curiosity got the better of her. "Cheltham?" He sighed. "You are so close to Miss Moore and just want what's best for her. Therefore, I will tell you." "You don't have to." "You will keep this to yourself, or if you must, tell only her." Relief touched her chest. "On my honor." "Very well. Yes, my family has recently experienced some problems. We could use the money." "You risk much by your activities out here with me, your position in society. You are an elder son." "Yes, though my parents hate me. Even before the incident of which they will never forgive me, they disdained me because I showed an easy acceptance of those below me— talking to the servants as if they were people and once even being caught laughing with the cook! My father whipped me for that one, but Mr. Ethan was so kind to me, sneaking me extra treats..." He shook his head. "I had to be trained with extra care to be ... aloof and to act with the high dignity of my station. I don't know; I suppose I was just born defective in my parents' eyes." Relief reached a hand and touched his shoulder. Oh my God, how sad. Her heart melted. His eyes fell upon her hand. "I'm sorry." She withdrew her hand. "No mind, lad. I will find comfort someday in the eyes of my own beloved children, looking into my face, feeling their father's love shining down upon them." Relief inhaled sharply, and tears swelled and stung her eyes. That was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. 141

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She rubbed her uncovered eye, and felt her whole body tighten with the desire. She wanted to throw her arms around him. "No one will discover this is me out here, Raphael." "I have seen greatness in you. You are more dashing in public, even undisguised, freer, and less-restrained than before." "And Miss Moore has taken note of this." "Yes, she has seen you. You impress her, Cheltham." He closed his eyes and smiled. He fisted his hands and said, "Yes!" joyfully as his eyes popped open. "Raphael, I would love her without the money." "But you couldn't marry her." His expression fell. "I would find a way—" "It would never be allowed. You are a nobleman. You have to marry in the upper echelons, or at least a woman from a respectable, wealthy family. People will understand if you want to take a wife for money." "I want Miss Moore for herself, not her damn money." He paced a step, then back, as was his habit. "What if she were broke and from a lower-class family?" Relief brushed a shirt sleeve, trying to appear nonchalant. "I'd still want her." He's dead serious. "As a mistress, no doubt." "As more than that." "But you couldn't." "Raphael," his voice betrayed his irritation. "Don't push me." "I must know!" It's important to me. 142

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"You must? Really?" "Yes!" His jaw clenched, and he paced another step, clenching his fists. He stopped, looked at her, and paced again. "Cheltham?" "I would forfeit my title to my self important cousin, damn it! Fake my death if I had to!" She gasped. "What?" Her heart sped up. "I would give away my privilege to my cousin; abdicate, to keep my future estate safe from ill-repute by stepping down, for the sake of my family." Relief stumbled backward. "You would give away your future earldom?" She could not seem to get air into her lungs. His brows drew together, and fierceness lit his eyes. "Yes. And live with my poor wife." "And do what?" She pressed her shaking hands into her sides. A sense of terror began to creep up her legs, making its way to her heart. She was in danger of giving herself away, of telling him. He smiled. "Raise the most beautiful children in all of England, and love the most wonderful wife." Relief turned away as tears forced their way out. She surreptitiously wiped them away and turned back to the Viscount. She inhaled deeply. "You are used to privilege." "And I would not just give it away but, if I had to—" he shook his head. "I have come to understand the plight of most people, thanks to you. I have come to like myself." "Street life cannot be pleasant." 143

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"No, it can not." "Then why?" She reached out her hands, palms up, in question. "Hmm, I could sit and dine each night with a wife I didn't love, in the cold townhouse she saved with her money, and my title, all the while, dreaming of Miss Moore. I would never get over her. I would be sick, inside. I do not want to raise children that are not hers. My children will be half American or—" Raphael trembled inside. "Or?" "Or perhaps I will never have any!" Relief's mouth dropped open. She closed it with difficulty. "You once despised Americans." Regret clouded his eyes. "I was a fool." "You seemed to think they acted with impropriety." "They are less inhibited." "Wild." "Free and honest." "Reckless," she challenged. "Brave and daring," he grinned. "Relief will be happy when I tell her these things." I love you, Benjamin. "Raphael, I could be so happy with the woman whose mere presence gives me warmth. When I'm with you, my American friend, my title is irrelevant. You have accepted me for the man I am, and have taught me that to do the same for others is not a defect, it's a virtue. And when I'm with ... Relief, I don't see money, titles, station, anything, anything but a long 144

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future with her, wherever that may be." He turned around and gazed at the dingy city around them. "I could survive in this." "When you are older, you will change your mind. You are only twenty." The Viscount walked ahead of him angrily. "And a grown man! I know what I want!" "Without money, you would miss your position and regret what you gave up. In reality, you thank God Relief has wealth." "You are wrong!" "I—I am sorry. It's just so unusual." The Viscount turned with a want to scold shining in his eyes; he held up a reproachful finger. His mouth opened to spill out harsh words, but instead, he closed it, thought a moment, then said, "You are right. It is unusual, and deep down, I'm glad she has wealth, but I'd take her either way. I swear it to you, my friend." They walked a bit and stopped short at the first notice of two growling dogs tugging at both ends of a bone. A grubby, dirty-faced boy threw a brick at them. Some loud yelping and resentful glances directed at the boy left him unconcerned. The mutts ran off, and the lad placed the bone in a brown linen bag. He went on his way down the filthy road. Lord Cheltham drew his brows together. "I hope he does not intend to ... eat that!" He scowled, and his disgust inspired a laugh in Leafy. She felt the bubbling amusement start in her gut and rise. It spit out in a burst of uncontrolled mirth. 145

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"Boy?" Lord Cheltham chuckled. "No, Cheltham. He will surely not eat that bone!" Lord Cheltham's lips formed a smile. To Relief, he much appeared the green boy, older by a year as he was-innocent in his own way, and gullible on the streets. "Then what?" "He'll make a couple of shillings from the burners. Then he'll buy a decent meal." Lord Cheltham smirked as if he didn't understand but had no desire to appear ignorant. Relief dashed off, and her beloved friend followed behind. A little girl, holding a stick of fire, was digging in the ground with her other hand. Relief approached her and stood before her. The Viscount stood slightly behind. "Hello, little Miss." She lifted up her huge, startled eyes and bolted upright, preparing to dart. "Wait!" Relief grabbed the girl's arm. "Did you lose something? Perhaps we can help you find it?" The little girl's bottom lip trembled. Her hesitation melted Relief's heart. "It's fine," Relief spoke in a gentle voice. "You can trust me." "I need iron, nails, to give to my papa, so we can get shillings." Relief turned to look at the Viscount who in turn pulled some coins out of a pouch hanging at his side. He gave them to her, and she handed them to the girl. The little one snatched them from her hand, penetrated Relief's gaze with hers, and then ran into the darkness of night. 146

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Lord Cheltham stepped back. "Raphael, that was odd." Relief smiled knowingly. "You do not know what she meant, do you?" "I'm afraid not." "She digs out dirt from the ground in search." "Of ... what?" "Nails." "Nails?" His brow rose. "Yes, stupid, from horseshoes." The Viscount frowned. "Pardon my ignorance, my stupidity, lad, but I still don't understand the point." She let out an exasperated gasp. "My lord—" The Viscount raised one brow. The corner of his lips turned up. "My lord, is it?" "Nails ... iron ... for gun barrels. There are always buyers." "It suddenly becomes clear." "Yes, you deuced lord. Does she look like she could hold a position and earn money?" The Viscount rubbed his chin. "You're not saying—" "We can only pray she doesn't get recruited for prostitution in a couple of years." "Prostitution? Dear God, Raphael! She was not above ten years old! I knew they started young, but I hadn't realized just how bad the situation was. After all, I was not one of those gentlemen who ever used their services." "There are those that prowl on the hungry, Cheltham." Relief turned around, squatted and drew circles in the sand, glumly, her heart going out to that child. She said a silent prayer that that little girl would find her way out of this. "We 147

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will probably see more grubbers tonight. They search for rings or handkerchiefs that mean nothing to the people who dropped them, but a meal to others ... as you saw a moment ago, some people do not have a choice." Relief stood up and stepped back startled. The pale face of the Viscount demonstrated that he was deeply disturbed by the streets this night. "I must have dropped an item or two over the years, Raphael. I never once thought about the poor souls who might have been fed that night because of it." He shook his head and dropped his gaze. "God, lad, these poor wretched people have no hope." "Some of them have noble blood, Cheltham." "What?" His glimpsed up. Humor tickled Relief's throat. "Some of the gentlemen of St James's are protectors." The Viscount rubbed his chin again, indicating that a further explanation was needed. "Cheltham, prostitutes frequent the theatres looking for their West End—" "I get your meaning." "And they have children—" The Viscount held up a hand. "Please. You have said enough about this. I'm sure someone out here needs rescuing." He looked around. "You would not be mistaken." Relief ran ahead at the sound of a woman screaming. The Viscount pursued. **** 148

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When Lord Cheltham and Raphael parted ways again, the Viscount saw his friend headed in the direction of Miss Moore's house, probably to discuss many things with her. On one of the days that the Viscount and Raphael had not gone out together, he decided to pay the lad a visit after his own busy escapades stopping a crime or two on his own. He wanted to present his friend with a small gift, a dagger he could strap to his side to increase his intimidation factor. Raphael had told him that the Moore sisters were calling upon a friend, and he suspected their visit would last until the time of the Viscount's party. Lord Cheltham approached their house, supposing the sisters were not at home. To his amazement, Mrs. Miller, the young ladies' chaperon, greeted him at the door of the Moore house. The elderly woman smiled. "The ladies are enjoying a small gathering. Perhaps your Mr. Taylor is due to join them?" The Viscount was flustered. They were home? He had only expected Raphael at this time. "I could return. Is he expected?" This is awkward. "I do not know." Lord Cheltham made to leave. Then silently, he chastised himself, remembering that Raphael had told him that Mrs. Miller didn't know about him. She was old, so Relief was able to hide Raphael in the servants' quarters when needed, where he could keep a protective eye on her and her sister. "My lord, please join our group and wait for your friend." "I would not impose, madam." 149

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"Not at all. Please." He smiled and let himself be guided into the front hall. He heard a woman's beautiful singing voice, and the enchanting notes of a pianoforte filling the air. Mrs. Miller gestured forward to a yellow music room. Lord Cheltham stepped to the threshold of the salon and gasped when he saw Miss Moore singing and Miss Honora playing the piano. Miss Moore stole his breath away. She stood in a crimson silk gown with her hair pulled elegantly up. A stray curl fell and decorated a graceful shoulder. Just like the day she wore her bonnet. How he longed to touch that soft-looking lock. He swallowed, moved by the passionate desire to take her into his arms and (he prayed) accept her complete surrender to his love. How he could hope. The song ended, and several people clapped. Relief made a deeply elegant curtsey and looked at her appreciative audience. She smiled. Honora stood up and hugged her. The Viscount clapped loudly from across the room. She turned to look at him. Her lips parted, and she brought her fingertips to them. He smiled, glad that he had gone home after a little adventure on his own, and changed into his casual but dashing dark brown jacket with gleaming buttons, matching waistcoat, shirt of fine white linen, excellently tied snowy-white cravat, buff colored trousers, and tall boots. His only jewelry was a signet ring. Her face glows with affection ... She loves me, too! Her eyes shine with it. 150

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He knew that he was looking at her with the expression of a love-sick schoolboy, but he didn't care. His knotted stomach and tight chest made it difficult for him to play by the strict rules. Mad love tore at him and affected his senses. The lovely Moore sisters bid their guests goodnight, and one by one they took their leave, each in turn gazing at the Viscount with the greatest of curiosity. These were not nobility, but rather a mixture of middle and upper-class citizens, dressed in impeccable if not always expensive clothing. Lord Cheltham smiled to each politely as they passed. At last the house was quiet. Mrs. Miller peeked into the room and smiled. She had that matchmaking sparkle in her eyes once again. "Honora, dear, will you come with me to arrange for a tea service?" "Yes, madam." "We will return in five minutes." She directed this to the Viscount. He smiled. Mrs. Miller left the room, expecting Honora to follow her. Honora spoke to her sister then left. "I beg you, Leafy, you will not hesitate to soothe that inflammation of your heart." Relief grinned. He had heard the younger sister's advice to her elder. How delightful! Relief's heart is inclined toward me. The door was left open. Relief approached him hesitantly. They stood a foot apart. He looked into her angelic face, her 151

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glittering eyes. She blinked, reaching for him with unspoken words. She parted her lips slightly. He cleared his throat. "Miss Moore, I am transcended by your talent." She continued to look at him in a way that made it difficult for him to conceal his maddening feelings of passion for her. Tension wracked his body. She leaned closer, and his heart pounded. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Please, Miss Moore, I must go. I anticipate your presence at my party." She gently touched his cheek with her fingertips. "I have never loved a man before." His eyes snapped open. "—Wh ... what?" Passion began to flood him, threatening to push him past a point he had never known before. He desperately grasped for control. "I have never been in love before." She appeared flushed. "Be ... before now?" Oh my God, can it be? He stood so still and stiff he could barely breathe. She ran her fingertips gently over his lower lip. He parted his lips slightly, straining not to touch her. Immediate and hot need shot through him painfully. He ached to touch her, but didn't dare. He was, after all, a gentleman. She placed a gloved hand behind his head and leaned toward him, closing her eyes. Her lips touched his softly at first, and then the kiss became urgent. He responded ardently opening his mouth to taste her, driven by an insane need to have her. You will be my wife; I will tear your dress off, kiss your entire body, pleasure you wildly, and see joy in your eyes as 152

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you cry out my name. And I will do this to you every night. I will make you laugh with elation, dance with happiness to be my wife. God, you will be so happy to be my wife. He grasped her and kissed her so deeply his body raged with the happiness of possessing her so. She drew his tongue more into her mouth with a shocking hunger, sighing. When finally they pulled apart, he looked into her face. Tears ran down her cheeks. He touched them, with trembling fingers, in awe, in wonder. "Benjamin," she whispered. How intimate. He gulped, as tenderness split his heart in two. "Relief." She trembled and took a deep, steadying breath. "Go, my lord. I will meet you at your party." I love you, Relief. If I don't leave now, I will ravish you with kisses. He nodded, turned and strode out of the room with stiff, purposeful steps. **** Honora leaped into the room alone, carrying a tea service. "Mrs. Miller prepares more substantial refreshments. She will join us shortly." Relief was shaking. "Did you kiss him?" She tilted her head. "Dear God, Relief, you are crying! Did he hurt you?" She set the tray down on a table with a crash and darted for the door. 153

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Relief reached for her, stretching her arm. "No, wait, come here." Honora stopped and turned on her heel. "What happened?" "I kissed him." "But you are crying!" She shrugged and sliced her hands through the air with confusion. Relief withdrew a handkerchief from her reticule, resting by the tea tray and nodded her head. "Why, Leafy?" She dabbed at her tears. "My sweet, sweet sister, you know I'm in love with him." A slow smile spread across Honora's face, and she crossed the room to her sister. "Yes." "This is not a beneficial occurrence, my dear Honora." "Pray tell me, why not, Leafy?" Little fists, on little hips. "Because of my unfortunate hobby. I feel really alive when I'm out there as Raphael, saving the situation that requires my interference. I will not give that up, and you heard the Viscount earlier. He would never allow me to continue with it." She slowly lowered herself onto the piano bench. "So do not tell him it's you." Honora rested one hand on the instrument. "It would be difficult to keep up the charade if I were his wife." She wrung the hanky in her gloved hands. "You could manage. I have seen you do some amazing things, Leafy." She reached forward and brushed a stray curl from Relief's shoulder. "No. It's too big of a risk. I cannot be with him." She stood up. 154

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"So don't marry him." She lowered her voice, leaning and whispering to Leafy. "Take him as your lover, secretly. No one has to know. Use protective measures against pregnancy. When you're done with him, we go back to America. Find a husband there." Relief was scandalized. "I could not do that." "Why not?" Honora grasped her sister's arms. "I had no idea that my feelings for him would envelope me to this degree. I am far too in love with him to risk it. If I were to make love to him, I would be lost. I would accept a forthcoming marriage proposal." "You are stronger than that." "I am a very strong woman, but I feel my love overcoming me, Honora. I am afraid." Honora pulled her into a hug. They heard footsteps and looked toward the doorway. The Viscount stood before them. "My lord?" Her heart sped up, and heat washed over her. Had he heard her? The thought turned her stomach. His next words would surely answer her question. "I must apologize for my atrocious behavior. I beg forgiveness, ladies." His voice faltered. "I waited in your hall, as your servant prepared to let me out but—" "Tell him, Leafy." She nudged her. "Tell me what?" "Leafy? Tell him the good news." Honored nudged her again. "I can't, Honora." She still tingled, hypnotized by his kiss, which lingered on her lips. "Please do." He grinned. 155

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You're charming, Relief thought. Honora shook her head. She cast her eyes upon Lord Cheltham. "Do you love my sister? I mean really love her?" "Yes." He stood up straighter. "Do you have the best intentions?" "Yes. I have only to discover how to contact your father. I vow to convince him to talk Relief into accepting my hand. I will take an oath to treat my wife with the deepest of love and kindness, and affection." He fisted his hands and tightened his lips. Honora smiled. "Tell him, Leafy." "Tell me what?" He chuckled and uncurled his fingers. "No, Honora. I can't." "You can't what, my dear?" Relief turned away. Such soft, gentle love fills his voice. He would be good to me. She felt tears coming. "I cannot be leg-shackled to you, my lord." "Leg-shackled, Miss Moore?" He drew his brows together. "I wish to be in control of my own life." But I love you so much. I will never forget you, even when I marry my neglectful husband and go out alone on my adventures. "But I would not restrain your unusual American sensibilities; I swear it, Miss Moore." He stepped closer and stopped suddenly. "There's more to my situation, my lord." I only wish you could understand. He frowned in obvious perplexity. "Please elaborate, Miss Moore. My heart demands it." He fisted his hands once again. 156

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"You have already made certain of your viewpoints very clear, sir. You are immovable upon certain issues." "A man has to have integrity, Miss Moore." He opened his hands and pressed one onto the nearby piano. "Yes, I respect that." She sighed. "Unfortunately it puts a permanent wedge between us." "What does, Miss Moore? Perhaps it is something I could reconsider?" He lifted his hand as if to touch her, but thought twice and let it drop. Honora smiled. "Raphael, my lord—" "Going out on the dangerous London streets at night with Raphael? No, I should not think so!" Concern darkened his face like a shadow. "I could never put you at such a risk, allowing you to walk around those stews, even if you do have a little bit of fighting skill." He stood straighter. "A little?" She raised her brow. "A little," she whispered again. His brows drew together. "Miss Moore..." She inclined her head away from him. "Goodbye for now, my dear Lord Cheltham. I will be at your party." She turned to meet his gaze, sadness and regret filling her heart. "Relief, Miss Moore, you will be my wife. I vow to you, my beautiful lady, my American lady." His promise bore into her eyes, before he turned to leave. "My lord." He spun on his heel to regard her, watching her with great interest. 157

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"My lord, Raphael has told me all about you, about your adventures, about the kind of man you are." He shifted his head slightly. "Do you approve?" He grinned. "I more than approve. It's as if I know you very well." He winked and placed his fingertips to his lips, kissed them, and then gestured toward her. He exited the room, leaving the two ladies to stare after him. "Do you think he meant it, Leafy, about love and marriage?" "I do not wonder at it, Nora. I will hate to disappoint him." "He will be greatly disappointed, beyond repair." Relief swallowed a groan of displeasure. "He has as much gumption as I do. When I went out with him under the guise of Raphael and we fought crime together, I saw a courageous and bold man, a good one. I have come to respect him more than any other man I have ever known. I have grown to love him and need him." "But not enough to give up your crazy street antics." She turned to look at her sister. "Honora, I do not believe that love would ask that of me." "You doubt the authenticity of his feelings?" "When I look into those eyes of his..." she thought of his eyes, the color of storm clouds. "I cannot. When I am out of his presence, I always do. It is a form of self-protection, I suppose. What do you think? Should a person give up half of their personality for the sake of love?" "I fear you have a point, Leafy. Love would never require that. But I believe he needs you." 158

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"Obviously not enough to be my husband, or he would bend on certain matters." "What a shame." "Yes." She sighed. "Leafy, will you ever find the man who would allow your activities to continue?" "Most would not permit me to sing as enthusiastically as I did tonight." "But the Viscount would. Admiration glowed in his eyes." "Yes." "It must have hurt him to see our male guests greeting you so fondly." "Yes." She felt tears sting her eyes. "And yet he would bend his stiff aristocratic rules to let me be American." "His other concern for your safety is reasonable." "I know that. He is in his right. I just cannot do it. It's who I am. I am the secret hero. I love helping people." "And getting no thanks or recognition for it." "That's not why I do it." "I know." "I feed my need for adoration when I'm in my feminine form." Honora nodded knowingly. "You like that attention." Relief sighed. "I will think of him every time I go out, for the rest of my life." "He will haunt you." "Yes. But I am incapable of gutting myself. I will not extinguish half of my humanity." 159

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"You are in your right, Leafy. I am so sorry for your terrible predicament, but I am in accordance with you. Giving it up would not be character growth, which I know you are not opposed to. It would be partial suicide." She looked at her sister as if feeling great pity for her for the first time in their lives, instead of the great envy she was accustomed to knowing.

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Nine Relief daydreamed from her seat in front of the mirror, dressed in just her white, linen chemise, stays, and petticoat while Honora dressed her hair. Faced with silk and reinforced with whalebone, her underpinning fastened in front to satisfy her independent nature. Her nearly sheer, rose-printed muslin petticoat closed at the back with hooks and eyes, and the front gathered with drawstrings. The lacy hem hung above her ankles under the shorter gown she would wear. Ribbon garters held her silk stockings below her knees. "Your hair is so lovely, Leafy." "Thank you. I very much like your fashionable blond hair." "I could use a bit of lemon to lighten your hair." Relief shook her head. "No thank you, Nora. It would dry it out. Besides, if I wanted to pursue every fashion, I would surely cut my hair!" "Leafy, you do not want me to put these long tresses in a type of chignon for you?" "No. It's evening. Do something more elaborate. "You rely so heavily on my opinion, sister." "You are responsible for my hair and makeup, and I would not have it otherwise." "More elaborate, then ... I suggest we decorate your hair with jewels, or pearls. Yes pearls to complement the elegant white dinner gown you will be wearing to the prince's party. You can wear the more formal dress with richer material and a bit of decoration." 161

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Relief chuckled. "Why do you keep calling him a prince? He is a Viscount." "Because he is your prince, Leafy." "But I shall never marry him." "Maybe not, but he will always be the prince of your dreams." Relief frowned. "Your makeup will be subtle of course." Honora came around and placed elegant fingers under her sister's chin. "A tiny bit of rouge for your lips and cheeks. Just a little." "Thank you." Relief held still while her sister did her magic. "Leafy, it's good that you brushed your teeth." "Yes. But now we are out of tooth powder. Why do you say so?" "For the breathtaking kisses that you will be engaged in later!" She puckered then smacked her lips. Relief's cheeks heated. "I will wear aetherial, though truth be told, Leafy, the skyblue color would better go with the color of your eyes. It would be a good match. The color is almost identical." "No, sweet one, aetherial will be charming with your green eyes." Honora smiled. "Shall we bring a bottle of wine from our fine stock?" "Yes. Perhaps a port for the men or Madeira to accompany dessert." "The Madeira." **** 162

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They arrived late in front of the Viscount's townhouse and noted the expensive carriages parked out front. Honora's features lit up. She grabbed her sister's arm, eyes wide in apparent awe. "LEA-fy," she breathed out. Relief smiled. "You are beautiful and fashionable, Honora. More than one gentleman will likely notice you this evening. You will leave here with your choice of men to call upon you!" "Do you really think so?" She gazed into Relief's face and blinked in a look of great anticipation. Relief considered her sister with a sweetness that was rare even in good, if not conceited women like her. "Yes." "I could tell stories of America, Leafy." "You will be a hit! Just do not inform them of the Orient." Honora's smile melted. "I will not. God, I would not venture to go there." Relief nodded once. They understood each other. Honora gawked at the house. "It's elegant and stylish." They observed the flat roof and the Portland stone facing. "Your prince has a fortune." Relief grinned, not caring. "He had a fortune. It has since been diminished." "This is real Portland stone, not the cheaper smoothfinished stucco." "What an eye you have for such things, sister," Relief said, amused. "People are obsessed with exotic things. We will be the hit of the party, Leafy." 163

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She chuckled. "I sincerely hope I am not a part of that; just you! This should be a night for you." Relief studied the exterior of the home. Flat pillars stood near the sides of the entrance. She glanced down and noticed the flower boxes. Cheerful yellow buttercups seemed to smile up at her. Small, yellow-eyed, circular deep-carmine-colored flowers, bryonies, grew up beside them. "What a charming little wrought-iron balcony." Relief, scanned the immediate surroundings some more. A security fence protected the whole terrace. "But I doubt it would be enough to stop a house breaker!" Relief met her sister's gaze. "Just let one try, Honora! I will stop him!" "Did you bring your little eye-patch and mask with you, sister?" She laughed. "No," Relief grimaced. "And it would be difficult to catch someone with the little steps forced upon me by this narrow gown." She scanned her frame with a pass of her hand. "But I could take care of business if I really had to. I just hope the need never arises. It would ruin my reputation." "If something happens, let Lord Cheltham handle it. You have provided him with street training, so he must be quite competent!" Honora giggled. "He was before he met me, Nora. Don't giggle in front of the nobility!" she admonished and tapped Honor's hand. "Well, he would be better after going to London Town's worst streets with you!" "I suppose so." She smiled. 164

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Brass lanterns hung mounted by the front door, but streetlamps also lit the way in the nearby street. This was an elegant, new area. Honora knocked on the door and stole an impetuous glance into the sash windows. Relief touched her arm. "Sister! You are too curious. You will see the inside in a moment!" "Where is that doorman? Titled gentlemen wait to meet me. Too bad Mrs. Miller is down with another of her megrims once again. Poor old lady. She's the perfect chaperone. If we find ourselves separated, Leafy, you have only to send a glance my way if you should need me." Relief offered a smile of gratitude. To their shock, the Viscount answered the door. The ladies looked upon him with wide eyes. He gave them the warmest, happiest smile Relief had ever seen. "Ladies." He touched his chest and bowed. Then he stepped aside and allowed them entrance. "Welcome to my home. I am very pleased that you could join me this evening. I trust I find you well?" Relief looked into his gray eyes and smiled sweetly, with the same outreaching as if she had embraced him affectionately, as one would a treasured friend. He held her look for an extended moment. "Nice foyer," Honora's voice broke her reverie. "Ah, there's the butler." She tilted her head in the direction of a man dressed impeccably in a dark jacket and excellent trousers. The white-haired, mildly hunched man approached and took the ladies' wraps, carrying them away. Laughter and 165

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conversation came from a room to the right of the entrance hall. Telling by the sound of slurred voices, more than a few of the Viscount's guests were already boosey. The wine and other liquor had to be flowing. The notes of a Scarlatti piece performed on the pianoforte floated into the hall. Following the Viscount, Relief and Honora took two steps toward the party room when a pretty, petite, black-haired woman in a lovely green gown came rushing out. "My lord, there you are!" A flash of jealousy flickered in Relief's heart. The Viscount afforded her an ardent gaze and sighed happily. He had to have seen my jealousy. Heat flushed Relief's cheeks. "Miss Moore, may I present my cousin, Mrs. Mary Ellery. She is like a sister to me." Relief sighed. Thank goodness. His lordship smiled, delighted at her reaction. He turned to face his cousin briefly. "Mary, may I present the enchantress of my dreams, Miss Relief Moore." Mary's mouth dropped open. So did Honora's and Relief's. Tingles ran the length of Relief's body. Lord Cheltham smiled. "You are familiar with opera, Mary. These ladies know just about everything on the subject." "Yes. Miss Moore?" Mrs. Ellery said. "And her lovely sister, Miss Honora Moore." "Mrs. Ellery." She nodded in acknowledgement. "Would you care to discuss music?" "Yes," Honora agreed. 166

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"Splendid!" Mrs. Ellery looked at the butler standing nearby, nodded to Honora and led her to the other room, chatting at a rapid pace. Soft love made the Viscount's face glow. He glanced to his feet briefly, like a shy schoolboy. "Miss Moore, you shame the loveliest flower in a meadow of blooms." He lifted his head to admire Relief's face. She reached to touch his bottom lip. He closed his eyes. She dropped her hand slowly. His eyes came open, and he turned to the butler who had cleared his throat. "Jones, please see to the kitchen staff. See that they bring in the next course shortly." "My lord." The Viscount's servant turned and left the room to follow his employer's orders. Lord Cheltham gave Relief his strict attention. "Please, Miss Moore," he breathed while fisting his hands. "I fear I am unaccustomed to the feelings that are racing through my blood now. You are most unusual. You are unarming me." "Oh, tell me, my lord!" His eyes widened. "But—" "Be stark honest, please." The corner of her lips turned up in a way meant to drive him crazy. She shook her head softly and spoke in her melodious voice. "My lord, I beg you." Her thoughts proved her conceit in her own mind, but she didn't care. She wanted to see him writhe with desire. "I long for you, Miss Moore. Your nearness overwhelms me." His posture was stiff as it could be. 167

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Visions of him sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to his bedchambers washed over her. Her breathing became shallow, and she wrung her hands together. "I have been exposed to dozens of cultures, sir. They do not all hold themselves in the same reserve that you British do." "Madam, please do not put my British reserve to the test. For I fear it will not hold up against your other-worldly power over a man." She looked into his eyes in an unassuming, seductive way. The Viscount turned away as if forced by decency. She glanced down and noted that his hands trembled. "Miss Moore, please follow me to the very public dining room, if you will. I have had my chef prepare dishes so delightful that a Parisian chef would pay his compliments. I will be crushed if you do not find something to your liking. They were all prepared with you in mind, my dear lady." She stepped forward and touched his stiff arm. "My lord." He inclined his head toward her and smiled sadly. "Lord Cheltham?" "Oh, I was just imagining what it would be like to have you call me Cheltham, like a very good mutual friend of ours does." "Raphael." "Yes, the fine lad. Or something more intimate, Benjamin, or my love, perhaps? How does our friend do this evening?" He shook his head. Relief grinned and glanced at the shiny floor. 168

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"Raphy is fighting crime." "I almost wish I were with him right now." "Almost?" "He is my second favorite person. I choose his company second only to..." "To?" "To yours, of course." "What do you appreciate about my Raphy?" "Your ... Raphy?" he asked with more than just a bit of envy lacing his voice. "Do you find him appealing all cleaned up? How closely are you related? Not close enough to ... marry?" She chuckled. "Raphael is popular with the opposite sex but—" The Viscount raised his brow and grinned. "To me he is ... my best friend, next to Honora, of course." "Oh, thank God." She laughed again then paused, stretching her neck in the direction of the party. "That should have been a B flat, not a B natural." "My pardon?" She curved up the corners of her lips. "Sorry, my lord. The music." A small smile laced his lips. Sad love crossed his eyes. "I could never marry Raphael," she offered. "No?" "No. It would be a legal impossibility." "A legal one? A close relation then." "Yes. I need not say more for now." 169

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"Ah, Miss Moore, Mr. Taylor has so much honor and integrity that it makes me proud to know him. He is fun, exciting, and adventurous. I am not bored for one second in his presence. He has taught me a lot. He has brought me on adventures that I would not trade for anything. I will go out with him for as long as he will let me. He has brought exhilaration to my life, but then again, so have you. As it is, I view Raphael as my best friend and the little brother I never had." "It makes me greatly happy to hear you discuss him so." "Good." He smiled. "You do not worry that a young boy like him will get hurt on the streets?" "My dear Miss Moore, I am absolutely astonished by his degree of fighting talent. I am mystified by his abilities. I have no doubt that the little lad will live to be ninety." "What if I told you that the little lad was a little lass?" He took a step back with a mild chuckle. "You jest with me." "What would you think?" "I would demand that she stop her activities at once!" He frowned. "Are you trying to tell me something?" "So, if Raphael were female—and having the exact same abilities that you have witnessed on several occasions—if she were the same person that you just said would live to be ninety, you would demand that she cease her street heroics?" "Yes." "Why?" she cried out in desperation, "Oh, my lord, why?" "Because of her gender!" 170

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"That makes no sense!" "She could get hurt!" "What?" He sighed. "Miss Moore!" He flung his hands out in alarm. "Miss Moore, what are you trying to tell me?" The anxiety on his face was unmistakable. There would be no moving him on this issue. "It was just a hypothetical question." She sighed and lowered her shoulders. "Are you sure?" "Yes." "Good, because you had me frightfully worried." She placed her face in her hands, on the sides of her cheeks, and her heart raced with sadness as she watched him. Her eyes stung with tears. Oh, my darling, why must I love you? Perhaps, just perhaps, she could handle being just his lover. She would have to test herself. "My lord, could I impel you to a favor?" "Anything." "It is a most unusual request." "It matters not. Ask it and it is yours."

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Ten "I am not a woman of loose morals, I give you to understand." He straightened his back. "I never believed that for a moment." "We must remove to a private place. Afford me a word." "What?" "Please. I have to know." He nodded and looked about. More loud laughter came from the dining room. It was obvious that people were drowning in their cups. No one paid them any consideration. He led her to the back of the house, looking from side to side as if to insure himself that they were not being noticed. Once before an oak door, he gestured for her to enter into a roomed lined with books—the library, and he shut the door, locking it behind them. Then he stood stiffly, keeping distance between them. "My dear lady, I collect you have something important to tell me." "I have something of grand importance that I need to discover." "What would that be?" She stepped up to him, closely. She could feel his hot breath on her face. She blinked and looked at him in admiration, the urge to kiss him pulling at her heart. His chest moved faster with his increased breathing. 172

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"Miss Moore, we shouldn't be in here together like this. We will have to take great care not to be discovered." He stepped back once. "I have to know." "Know what?" "If I could handle becoming your lover." He turned his head to the side, coughed and bent over, grasping his knees. He took a deep breath and stood up slowly. Tension laced his eyes. "Please, Miss Moore, do not do this to me." "I thought you had feelings for me." "Strong ones. You have feelings for me also." "Strong ones, my lord." He stepped up to her and grasped her hand. "Oh, Miss Moore, then I must know." "Know what?" "Darling, darling, will you marry me?" Relief trembled. Her lips parted, but her voice hesitated as she did not want to confer the words. She shook her head softly. "No." He frowned. "Relief." His hand came forward in entreaty. "I—" "Do you love me Relief, really, or were your previous words—" She reached a hand and touched his hair. He gave her a tender look. "Relief?" 173

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She leaned and put her lips to his, kissing him with tenderness. He touched the back of her head grasping her hair. She opened her mouth and drew him into a kiss starving with need now. He lowered his hand and caressed her back. She tossed her head back so that he could devour her neck. Running her hot hands over his chest, her fantasies flowed forth. He lifted his hand and gently stroked the outline of her breast. She sighed. He swept her up in his arms gently and put her on a satin couch, and then lowered himself over her and kissed her over and over as her sighs invited him to increasingly higher levels of hot passion. "Relief." He bent to kiss the silky skin at the hollow of her neck then slowly worked his way down to the swell of her breasts. When she felt his soft kisses about to breach the border of the low neckline of her gown, she muttered quite urgently, "Make love to me." He stopped suddenly, pulled away and looked into her face. She was trembling. "Relief, I will not. Not until you agree to marry me." His features were deeply strained, his effort at restraint paramount. "You do not wish to make love to me?" "You have no idea how much, but Relief—" "There is not going to be a wedding." "But, I cannot but feel that you are quite in love with me! This was not just pure lust, my dear lady! I might depend upon you to enlighten me." 174

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"I needed to know. I had to know if I could become so close to you without needing to become your wife." "And you can?" He looked stricken. "I don't think so. I don't know, but I need you, my lord. I need you desperately, so I am willing to take the chance." "You do not wish to become my bride," he said glumly. "I didn't say that." "But Relief, you said no." "And I meant it." "But why, darling? Please, I deserve to know why." "Because you would change me." "How so?" "You would not permit me to be myself." "Relief, I would not change you!" "You would." There were tears in her eyes. "Oh, my darling, no!" He pressed her head to his chest and cradled it. "Never! You want children someday?" She sniffled and looked up into his seductive gray eyes. Her children would be beautiful with his eyes. "I would like that, someday." "Then I would be honored to be their father." Shock jolted through her. He really wanted to be with her—forever. Her mouth dropped open and tears rolled from her eyes. She doubted she would ever find a better man. In all of the countries she had been to, she had never met a more wonderful man. He loved her so much. Unfortunately, he would force her put her activities into the past. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her shoulders trembled with her soft sobs. He wrapped his arms around her. 175

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"My love, please tell me. I will make it all better." She glanced at him through tear-blurred eyes. "You cannot." She looked at him. He smiled sadly. "Oh, I would not count on that. Raphael showed me that I could do unimaginable things. He taught me that I could go beyond my wildest dreams." He looked at her sweetly. "After all, I am currently holding the woman of my dreams, am I not? So, my dear lady, anything is possible." "Except the situation I find myself in." "Do you by any chance refer to the situation concerning your uncle's pink diamond? Has this anything to do with that?" "I must find it." "I will help you." "Help Raphael." "Yes. That's what I meant. You, my love, will not be put in any form of danger." "What if I want to?" "What?" he asked with a surprised tone. "What if I like danger as much as Raphael does?" "Then I find myself at a loss. I do not want to take something from you that you enjoy, but, my lady, some things I will brook no argument against." "I must go then. I cannot be your wife." "Relief, I vow to find out what menacing situation keeps you from becoming my bride. I swear I will." 176

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"And I vow that you won't because I will never relinquish who I am!" "I will not force you to change! I will not force you to become an aristocrat if that is what you wish!" he said with exasperation. "I am much more than just a ... wild American! I am a—" "A what?" he demanded. "Good evening, my lord." She jumped up. "Relief, I'm going to find your father. We are going to have a significant talk." Relief rushed to the door, looked both ways to insure no one was about, and exited. The Viscount did not follow. She went to the dining room to search out her sister. Honora turned her head, and her face lit up when her eyes alighted upon her. The Viscount's cousin, Mrs. Ellery stepped up to her, frowning, her brow raised. She parted her lips, weighing her words. "Where is my dear cousin?" Relief hoped she didn't see her flushing from the heat that had suddenly overcome her. "I am sure I do not know." Feign puzzlement, she thought. "I admired the artwork in the hall when he took his leave of me. I assumed he had joined the party." Mrs. Ellery nodded her head and conducted them to the other end of the room. Most of the guests were already inebriated and laughing over private conversations. Relief sighed inside. It seemed that only Mrs. Ellery had taken note of her absence. Relief gave Honora an appreciative glance. Her sister had covered for her, her ingenious sister, 177

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gifted with masking the truth, in more ways than just with makeup and boy's clothes. Gratitude for Honora's ingenuity glowed warmly throughout her heart. When the Viscount entered the room, Relief's heart thudded against her chest. Every step he took in her direction increased the tension wracking her body, despite the fact that he appeared to be more interested in his noble guests than her. When he nodded to her politely, as if she were an unimportant guest, a primitive grief stung her. She closed her eyes, as wretched sadness closed up her throat. A small sob escaped her lips. Honora placed her hand on her arm. "Relief, are you ill?" "C'était à fender l'âme," It was heartbreaking, she whispered, her eyes cast down. The French had fallen from her lips without her thinking about which language she had used. She spoke eight, and sometimes muttered in any number of them. Perhaps the pain of defeat compared in her mind to that she had always supposed Napoleon had suffered. Honora frowned, having understood. Relief did her best to socialize after introductions were made. She and Honora conducted themselves beautifully for the glittering nobility in the room, suppressing their natural uninhibited ways with propriety and all they were taught. When Lord Cheltham later lifted his eyes over his circle of friends to search for her from across the room, Relief bit her tremulous lip. Visions of the dashing hero in his tight breeches, loose, flowing, cravat-less shirt, masked face, ruffled hair, holding a pistol in the air to scare off a would-be thief made her heart thump erratically. 178

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To her surprise, he made his way over to her and muttered, "Miss Moore?" His brows were crinkled. "You appear troubled." Her hand flew to her neck. "My lord I—" "What is it?" Mirth snuck up upon her. His lips melted into a smile. "Miss Moore?" She looked from side to side. No one paid them any attention at this moment. "Raphael described you in detail on the streets, in your hero's clothes and brave deeds. I was imagining how dashing you looked. It overcame me." His gray eyes darkened like thunderous skies in the summertime. "You prefer that type of man?" She didn't answer, but held her breath. "I have my answer." He bowed and swaggered over to his friends. **** After the party, Lord Cheltham paced the floor of his private office. "Why didn't she tell me that Raphael was her brother? I was trying to give her every opportunity to do so!" he thought aloud, remembering the identical birthmark he had seen on both of their hands. He was also pondering the fact that a very similar essence came from both Relief and Raphael. There was that same happy feeling he got around both of them. They were close. Everything added up. They were siblings. But why didn't they 179

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admit that? Was it for security reasons? Did it keep her safer by having the public believe that her bodyguard was a rough street urchin? Lord Cheltham supposed that would add a bit more to the intimidation factor. Maybe Raphael could investigate and uncover danger and potential problems more effectively if people did not know that Relief was his sister. Whatever the reason for the secrecy, Lord Cheltham would respect it. He knew Raphael was great at his job of keeping her safe, and he did not want to jeopardize that. He scratched his head. But what has the pink diamond to do with any of this? And when he thought about it, why had he never seen Raphael in Relief's presence? Perhaps he was always nearby, lurking in the shadows, remaining inconspicuous. Yes, that had to be it. And who the devil watched over her when he and Raphael were out and about town? He grabbed his coat. He was going to find Raphael. He stopped, looked down at his clothes and sighed. Promptly he changed into his "adventure suit." **** "Knives to grind!" "Apples, bake or boil 'em!" "Is there no one, no one to help a wretch like me?" A young man walked by the Viscount, watching the ground as he moped along. The squeal of a little girl's voice caught the Viscount's attention. He turned. It appeared the child was speaking to 180

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her brother. Lord Cheltham noticed perplexing expressions on their faces. He approached them smiling. "Could I be of service to you fine children?" "Do you have a hoop of some sort?" the boy asked. "A hoop? Hmmm." He rubbed his chin. "Ah, yes." He pulled out a handkerchief and tied the ends together to make a circle. "Will this do?" The boy shrugged and took it from him. He looked around and spotted two sticks. He stuck them into the ground and placed the cloth circle around them. Then he picked up two small stones and handed one to his sister. "What is this?" Lord Cheltham asked. "A game. We take our beggar's bullets and attempt to land them in the middle of the circle." "Is there a prize?" The boy scratched his head. "Sometimes the reward is in the action and not in what you can hold in your hand afterward." Lord Cheltham rubbed their heads in an affectionate way. "Fine children you are! I can only hope mine will be as gifted as you!" He gave a small, playful bow and walked to search out his best friend. He found Raphael bleeding from the arm, leaning and listening to a small boy. He tore a piece of cloth from his ragged shirt and handed it to his friend. "Bloody hell," Raphael attempted to tie the strip around his arm with his free hand and teeth. Lord Cheltham went to him. "Allow me." 181

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Raphael gave him a look of surprise and nodded. Lord Cheltham quickly tied it around Raphael's arm. "How did you acquire this, lad?" "Saving this scruffy lad's pratts from a bundle of bullies!" He titled his head to the little lad, and then continued with his discourse. "One had a bloody knife, mate, and I never saw it comin'," Raphael cursed. "He drew the cork only because I became distracted by the ones that were attempting to give Conrad an earth bath." "We had better have that looked at. It looks bad." Raphael yanked his arm away. "I will not be going to see a surgeon, thank you kindly, Cheltham." "Raphael, it could become infected." Raphael gave him a look of irritation. "I'll keep my eye on it." "Are you sure that's enough?" "Yes. Forget it!" Lord Cheltham looked at the lad Raphael had rescued. He pulled some coins from his pocket and gave them to the ragged boy who took them and darted off. Lord Cheltham smiled knowingly. "Charming fellow." "Ah, leave him be." Raphael winced and rubbed his arm. He spit to his side in the dirt. "I have questions, Raphael." "About what?" "About you and Miss Moore." "What do you wish to know?" "That easy?" 182

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"What do you want to know, Cheltham?" "Does she love me?" "Oh. That's what you want to know." "How do I convince her to marry me, Raphael?" Lord Cheltham looked at him with a racing heart. "You know, don't you?" "I know. She has told me everything." "Well?" "She does not wish for me to tell you." "Raphael, how do I make her my wife?" "Why do you want her as a wife?" Lord Cheltham sat down on the ground next to Raphael now and leaned back against a short wall. He did not give heed to the fact that he was a nobleman sitting on the dirty streets of London with a ruffian. He lifted his face to look at the sky. A dirty-faced boy in rough linen almost tripped over his foot. "Watch 'yerself you little mudlark! You nearly broke my friend's ankle! Go!" Raphael shooed him. The boy put his thumbs to his ears and wagged his fingers while sticking out his tongue. He turned and ran. Lord Cheltham looked at him, slightly amazed. "Raphael?" He chuckled. "I know that boy. He's a little by-blow of an earl who abandoned him. The boy still holds assumptions about his position." "How did you come to know this boy?" "He was a climbing boy stuck up in a little space." 183

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"A presumptuous boy like that was working for a chimney sweep?" "He had to survive. I rescued him; you know my small size allows me to do such things." Lord Cheltham laughed. "He was ungrateful. He told me that I stepped on his manly pride." Lord Cheltham laughed harder. "He sounds like a cork-brained lad to me to not appreciate your grand rescue!" Raphael sneered. "The boy needs to learn a thing or two about manners!" "He's from the streets." "So? Not everyone around here is rude, Cheltham!" "My pardon!" He was silent a moment then turned back to Raphael. "I was about to tell you why I want Relief to be my wife." Raphael leaned forward in great interest. "Not for the money?" The Viscount inhaled deeply. Maybe in my parents' view, not mine. "How's your arm, boy?" Raphael touched it. "It throbs, but do not mind it. Tell me about Relief." Lord Cheltham smiled widely. "Ah, you want to discuss women!" "Not women, just the one you want to marry." He sighed. "Why do I want to marry Relief?" he muttered. "Yes, why?" 184

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Lord Cheltham turned and looked at Raphael carefully. "So I do not have to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp on it. Every beat without her by my side is agony to me."

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Eleven Raphael started, stunned. "Raphael?" "I ... uh ... I..." Raphael stood up, unsteadily. Lord Cheltham looked at Raphael's shaking hands. "Lad, you suddenly look ill. Can I escort you home? Is it your arm?" "N ... No. I'm fine." The sound of pounding horses' hooves thudding against the dirt road and shouts of Move! caught their attention. Someone was running off with Cheltham's carriage. He jumped up and chased after them but couldn't catch up. Panting, he bent over and grasped his knees. Raphael stumbled up to him as the Viscount stood up and spit out a string of curses directed at the thief. Lord Cheltham turned to his friend. The lad's angry expression turned to one of great concern. "Your vehicle is lost, Cheltham." "We'll find, him, Raphael. There was a day I would have alerted the authorities, and waited to hear word, but now, I have the proper connections on the street to discover the scoundrel's whereabouts myself. I will take pleasure in turning him over for punishment." "If I had a keffel with me—" Raphael muttered. Lord Cheltham frowned, confused. "Sorry, it's a Welsh term. If I had Relief's horse, I could—"

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"Lad, come with me." He suddenly did not care about the carriage. He directed his bleeding friend to an inn just a few yards away. Lord Cheltham tossed the innkeeper some money and was led to a cramped, room that smelled of stale food and cheap gin. "Sit, boy. You look exhausted. Let me have a look at that arm." He went Raphael's shirt sleeve. "No!" Raphael yanked his arm back and winced. His cheeks reddened. Could it be you're embarrassed, lad? "I just want to examine it," he said, irritated at Raphael's foolishness. He reached for the sleeve again. "No! I'm dished up." Raphael plopped back with a thump. "We'll sleep here tonight." The words were barely above a dog-tired whisper. Lord Cheltham shrugged. It was no matter to him. The lad was injured, and he would not tire him further. He could already hear Raphael's even, deep breathing and knew he was asleep. Lord Cheltham lay down next to him, crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was also asleep. **** Relief opened her eyes and looked straight into Lord Cheltham's beautiful face. She stared at him for a long time as he slept. Gently, she reached her hand up and touched the blond hair by his brow, breathing out the words softly, "I love you, Benjamin," using his Christian name. 187

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His eyes came open, and she gasped, afraid he had heard her feminine voice. She was close enough to lean and press her lips to his. My darling. She squeezed her hands to still their trembling, to squelch the urge to skim his jaw line, to swallow the need to kiss him madly. His handsome eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he frowned. Oh, no. "Boy?" He sat up slowly, still looking at him with question. She sighed inside—her secret remained safe. "Raphael ... er ... I—" He shook his head, glanced down then returned his gaze to hers. She didn't dare move. "I," the Viscount sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you see, I consider us close, but," he hesitated then something changed in his eyes, and he looked at her with resolution, as if he would lie to himself to protect his dearest friend. After all, that crime was a capital offense. His lips turned into a knowing smile. "You're probably tired after fighting crime and having a dalliance with a lady." Relief blushed and looked away. Lord Cheltham said nothing more. "My lord," she said imperiously, facing him once again. "Of course I prefer the opposite sex!" That was mortifying. Lord Cheltham chuckled with pleasure and rubbed his chin. "I was in jest, dear boy!" He laughed again, sounding truly 188

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happy and turned to leave the inn. Relief followed him, holding her breath. That was deuced close. But honestly, it would have been better for him to assume Raphael prefers boys than for him to know I am Relief Moore. He never would have reported the crime. The Viscount called over a hackney carriage, and despite his apparent ease to discover his male friend did not desire him-though Relief knew it would not mean the end of their friendship-he did not speak further to her at this time. The ride disturbed her in its awkward silence. After Lord Cheltham directed the coachman to his house, he turned to him. "See the lad home." He paid him and hurried into his townhouse without a backward glance. **** That evening Honora, glanced into her sister's anxious face, and the two ladies turned to stare out the window of the Earl of Whittingham's townhouse. Lord Cheltham pulled up in his phaeton. Honora glimpsed the love glowing in Relief's eyes, and happiness for her made her light-hearted. "He is much anticipating seeing you here, Leafy, for one can tell by the way he jumped from his carriage." "The earl told him that he was having a social gathering so that he could get acquainted with the lovely Miss Honora Moore." Honora giggled, loving the way her sister said that. "And his lordship, Lord Cheltham had to be here because you would be here!" she said with her hand over her heart, 189

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feigning to swoon with romantic fervor. The back of her wrist came to her forehead. Leafy puckered her lips, suppressing a giggle of her own. She took Honora's wrist and set it back at her side. "Be good, Honora." "Look! Your prince leaps up the stairs!" "Honora!" "I only speak the truth!" She lifted her chin. Lord Cheltham greeted his friends with a quick word then searched out her sister. Honora took note of the soft smile on Leafy's lips, a reaffirmation that the man made her heart thud with love. "Leafy," she whispered, leaning to her sister's ear. "His eyes say: God help me, I will die if I cannot be the object of that devastating smile of hers." Relief glanced down quickly to look over her appearance. "Do I look my best, sis?" "Beautiful, Leafy." She had chosen the dress, a semi-formal type with lovely bands of satin trimming it. Satin buttons and roses decorated the waist. A long lace scarf was draped over her injured arm. "He's staring, Leafy. His eyes say that his nerves are in a sorry way. Lucky girl," she teased. Leafy turned away from him. "It is a good thing Mrs. Miller went for a drink of water." "Now he's frowning deeply, Leafy. His face displays his displeasure at your snub." "Must you give me a moment-by-moment account?" 190

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"I must. He appears peckish for you, absolutely starving! And he is a beautiful specimen of the male persuasion, Leafy. I would wager that on your wedding night after you undid his trousers, there would not be something stuffed down there. You will glow for weeks after sharing the sheets with him!" "You shocking, lascivious, impetuous little chit!" Honora giggled and slapped her arm. Relief grimaced terribly and stumbled. She touched her arm. "I'm so sorry! I forgot!" Lord Cheltham rushed to her side and quickly went for the scarf. She pulled away. "My dear Miss Moore, you are hurt!" "I sustained an accident. I assure you, I am quite all right!" "You are not!" He went for the scarf again. "How dare you presume with me?" She stepped back. "Miss Moore, I should like to know—" His arm fell to his side. "To know what?" "Are you angry about my misunderstanding with Raphael?" Honora lifted her brows and placed her little fists on her hips, greatly amused, smiling brightly. "No. I am just a little fatigued. I slipped and fell. A string of pearls had fallen near my feet." He looked at her, not quite convinced. He rubbed his chin. "Do you require medical attention?" "Do you not think I can not seek help when I need it?" Leafy said with annoyed tones. 191

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Honora suppressed a laugh. Her sister hated his male over-protectiveness. She was not a female like others who would have warmed at his gallant overture. "I did not mean to say—" "Please, leave me be," Leafy said. "I will not." "Hmm!" She lifted her chin and turned away. He reached for her other arm and spun her around. Her gaze came to his face, and she was frozen in place. "Beloved," he muttered, "you are hurt." "I'm quite well, Benjamin," she uttered softly. Honora's heart twitched with regret for Leafy. Leafy's voice was edged in sadness. "Please do not be vexed at me concerning Raphael. I give you to understand that the little chap is still my favored friend. I intended on contacting him for another adventure on the morrow." Leafy took a step closer to him. "Really? I own I shall be glad for that if it be so." He gave her a soft look of love. "Really, my love. It seems to be of grand importance to you. I know he means a great deal to you, and I can understand why." "You do?" "Yes." She looked down and a little sob escaped her lips. Honora touched her shoulder in support. Lord Cheltham's eyes widened. "Miss Moore—" "She will be fine, my lord," Honora gave him a reassuring look. 192

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Relief walked away. Lord Cheltham tried to follow her. Honora stayed him with a touch of his arm. "Don't." "But—" "My lord, leave her be." "Miss Moore, why is she so overcome tonight?" Honora gazed at him, incredulous. "Because she is in love with you and cannot have you." His eyes grew large. "What? Of course she can have me!" Honora nodded. "She is all-a-gog." He took a step in Relief's direction. "My lord, please. If you care for her, you will not pursue this." "Miss Moore, I have no choice." She sighed. He dashed off to find her, but did not see her until everyone was seated for dinner. His friend, Lord Hawksworth, who had been drowning in his cups for more than an hour, eyed Relief in a way that Lord Cheltham could not approve of. Mrs. Miller frowned. "Miss Moore," he started, with a slur to his voice. "You are a very lovely lady." Lord Cheltham shifted in his seat, furious with his friend. Lord Hawksworth chuckled. "Ah, the lovely wild American girl. How much would I have to pay—" Mrs. Miller's hand flew to her mouth. Lord Cheltham stood up abruptly, silencing the room. Several people held their glasses or table napkins midair. "I would advise you to shut your mouth," he said coldly. 193

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Lord Hawksworth scoffed and thrust his hand through the air in Lord Cheltham's direction. "Look at the Viscount. Why just a short while ago you were so formal with all of us. Now, I see you about town with tight black breeches, cloak flowing behind you, dagger strapped to your side, ever-ready to fight. You look like a damn buccaneer! Why you have even grown out your hair! You no longer seem to care about your reputation! Perhaps you intend to pass over your inheritance to your cousin the Marquess, die on the streets?" Lord Cheltham clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool. "Perhaps, Lord Hawksworth, I have discovered another part of myself, a bolder part, a better part. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I am truly worthy of the title 'nobleman.' Perhaps," he gave a soft look to Relief, "I now merit the hand of an angel." Relief gifted him with a look of love in return. Lord Hawksworth laughed, mocking him. "Ever since you cast your eyes on the beautiful American heiress, you've been, well honestly, strange. I wonder you should not require smelling salts to rouse you in her presence, as she knocks you cleanly onto your tail. Tell me, sir, does she howl like a lady or a whore when you mount her with your powerful legs?" Mrs. Miller fainted. Lord Whittingham turned bright red with obvious anger. Relief jumped up and darted towards him, fists in the air. Honora stopped her and held onto her tightly by the wrist. The Viscount charged his friend. "Our friendship is over!" he roared. 194

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"As is his place in society," Lord Whittingham sneered. Lord Whittingham, a tall attractive man with nutmegcolored hair and a smartly-dressed appearance jumped up. He pointed it in Lord Cheltham's direction. Then he turned and looked at Lord Hawksworth viciously. "Get out!" He grabbed the drunken man's arm and forced him up. He dragged the lushy earl to his front door and tossed him out then turned to the Viscount with great anxiety. "I'm sorry, Cheltham. He's lost in his cups." "No matter how corned he is! He has gone too far!" He stared towards the door. "She is only a colonist." Lord Cheltham snapped his head back in Lord Whittingham's direction and gave him a terrible look. "What have you just dared to say to me concerning my future wife?" "Oh my God, I am sorry. I was a fool." Lord Whittingham dropped his eyes. Honora looked at Lord Whittingham with tears running down her cheeks, disappointed beyond measure that a potential suitor had been so cruel. "If you have no respect for my sister, then why have you invited me here?" The lifted her arms up in question, and slapped them back against her sides. "Did you assume that I am just a prostitute? You should know, my lord, that our great-grandmother was the daughter of an English Marquess!" 195

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She squeezed her sister's trembling side. Relief's eyes squinted in terrible silence, as bearing her part and not tossing the man down was costing her dearly. Both Honora and Lord Cheltham helped her out of the room, and the house. "Good evening, everyone," Lord Cheltham said coldly to the room of people as he led the ladies outside. Mrs. Miller stood, silent. Lord Hawksworth was gone. Lord Cheltham looked at Relief harshly then pulled her into a tight hug. She coughed. He let go just slightly, and she took a deep breath. But he would not let her go. "My darling, you have to marry me now." "You will try and say anything," Leafy said with a grin. He probably sensed the smile coming from her because he pulled away slowly to look at her. "Miss Moore?" he smiled. Leafy chuckled. "Did you arrange that romantic scene so you could be my hero?" Honora watched them silently. It became obvious to all that Relief offered him a way out of a possible duel by pretending to believe that the scene had been staged so the Viscount could come to her rescue. He analyzed Relief's expression. She acted relieved, now, as if it were all a set-up. At first regret shined in his eyes, then the emotion flickered as if he just wanted to make Relief happy. He nodded his head. "Of course, my love. Did it work? Am I your hero?" 196

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She smiled sadly. He was lying and both girls knew it. When a little later he walked away for the night, she heard him cursing the fact that he could no longer go and kill his former friend because to do so would make Relief deeply unhappy. Honora saw her sister staring at his back with tears of love. Honora took her off-guard with her next words, whispered in her ear. "One good thing came of this night." Relief knitted her brows appearing puzzled. "I know who stole the diamond, and I have a plan." **** The Viscount was woken in the night by a butler who bowed and excused himself profusely for disturbing him. Lord Cheltham looked at him while rubbing his eyes. "What is it, Jones?" "My lord, an urgent note has just arrived." "Oh?" He sat up abruptly. "Bring it to me man," he gestured with irritation. The well-dressed butler handed his master a note on a silver platter. Lord Cheltham nodded his dismissal. He bowed and was left alone to read the note. It was from Raphael telling him that something was terribly wrong, and would he come immediately to see him at his newly rented house located right next door to Miss Moore's? The Viscount jumped up, threw on some trousers and tossed a loose baggy shirt on over his head. He slipped on his boots and haphazardly put a jacket on over his shirt. He didn't bother to button it. He called for a carriage and had his 197

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driver drop him off in a hurry in front of Raphael's residence. He banged on the door. When Miss Moore opened it, his eyes grew wide. She grabbed his jacket and yanked him inside, looking side-to-side as she shut the door. He frowned, his concern for her his first thought. "Good God, Miss Moore, what is amiss? Are you hurt?" "No," she said, flushed. "Why are you here, in Raphael's home?" he said, worry making his words harsh. "He's out, my lord. He lent me his house so that I could see you alone." "Is something the matter?" Then he noticed. Her hair was down. It fell in long waves down her back. She only wore a silk chemise. He looked down and took in a deep breath, aroused. She placed the back of her fingertips on his cheek. He closed his eyes, barely able to keep from ravishing her. "Benjamin." He looked up into her eyes, unable to hide the great pain that was there. "Why are you doing this to me, Miss Moore?" "I could not sleep. I tossed and turned. I called you here because there was something I needed to do. I fear it is consuming me." "What ... is it, my love?" "This." She pulled him into a kiss that disrupted his sanity. It was long, and warm, and passionate. Finally she pulled away. He stood there, unable to move, unable to breathe. "Will you have me, Benjamin? Will you be my lover?" "Will you be my wife, Relief?" 198

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Twelve "No." "Then no." "Why? You have bedded other women. Why not me?" "Because it would be my ruin." Sadness crushed his heart. He wanted to be with her, but his feelings dictated deep commitment and nothing less. "What?" She stepped back. "Good evening, Miss Moore." He turned and left, wretched and haunted after seeing her devastated face. Terrible loss froze his blood. **** He sat in his opera box with a heavy heart. Lord Hawksworth glared at him from across the way. Lord Cheltham's former friend sat next to a seedy-looking character. The irony—who was giving up his position in society after all? The Viscount turned away angrily, dismissing him. His cousin Mary gently laid her hand on his shoulder. "My lord, I will not allow him to call on me again, after what was said. Ever since my husband died—" "That would be wise," the Viscount advised. "But I do this out of regret. I had a certain degree of regard for your old friend." "That is most unfortunate." "Yes," she said sadly. 199

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Lord Cheltham turned to look at her. Gloominess shadowed her face. "I'm sorry. Honestly. But he is not enough of a gentleman for you. He dishonored my future wife." "Perhaps it was the blue ruin that made him say those things." "Blaming alcohol is a crutch, dear cousin." "I will respect your wishes, my lord." "I'm sorry." She nodded and looked to the stage but did not seem engaged with what went on there. "Miss Moore is divine. I would dare say that she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I understand why you want her to be your wife." He turned, slightly perturbed, to Mary. "That is what called my attention to her. It is not what brought true love to my heart." Cheerless eyes met his. "I love the Earl of Hawksworth." He inhaled deeply but said nothing. She looked once again at the stage. "This is a new performance." "Yes. A tragedy they say." He glanced at the stage but then scanned the audience for signs of his beloved Relief. "Miss Moore hurt her arm, and it has been paining her, but I understand she is to be here tonight. She was in some degree of discomfort when I last saw her." "My dear cousin, you do not need to worry about her. She has an air of strength and independence, an American defiance, if you will," Mary offered. 200

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"I suppose you are correct." He continued to look around. She wasn't in attendance yet. The lights were dimmed. After the first act, the last of the notes faded into the air. Lord Cheltham surveyed the attendees. No one moved. They were enthralled. Worry squeezed his heart. Where is she? Relief loves music. The performance went on, and his anxiety built up. Finally, the presentation ended, and his cousin touched his shoulder. "What wonderful music!" He gave her a warm smile in attempt to hide his misery before he turned back toward the stage. His smile became authentic and brightened. His beloved was making her way to her seat down below by the stage, and she wore a dazzling white gown. A character that was not there before jumped onto the stage. He wore a long dark, hooded cloak. Relief's scream rent Lord Cheltham's heart. He followed her terrified gaze and saw the pistol aimed at her. "Good God!" He ran harder than he'd ever run before, his eyes never leaving her. A shot reverberated throughout the theatre, and Relief splayed her hands over her abdomen. She looked down, and a red splotch grew, spreading out on her opera gown. Her eyes rolled back, and she fell. Lord Cheltham leapt past people, shoving them out of the way. Mary ran after him. "My lord! My lord!" He was breathing heavily when he reached the back of the stage, through a thick of people. He heard someone say that 201

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Miss Moore had been carried to the back. He pushed his way forward. Several hired men would not let him pass. "Let me pass! I must see Miss Moore!" "No one can go back there!" A sturdy security man crossed his arms and stepped in front of him. "I must!" He pushed forward but was stopped by several more men. "Damn it, she is my fiancée!" Several people stopped what they were doing and stared at him. A very large man put his hand on Lord Cheltham's chest. "She didn't mention you. You were not seated together. Therefore we cannot let you back." "I speak the truth!" Lord Cheltham reached for his money pouch. "How much?" "What?" "I will pay, just allow me to pass!" "Not tonight!" Lord Cheltham pressed forward again but couldn't get through. Heart pounding, he ran outside, gulping for fresh air. He paced the outside of the theater. When two hours passed with no news, he wondered if she had been removed surreptitiously. He was frantic, ready to punch a hole right through the side of his finest carriage. He raced to Relief's house and banged on the door. There was no answer. He went to Raphael's. Again no one responded. He dashed about the heart of London and searched the streets all night long. No one had heard from Raphael. A young boy was discouraged because Raphael had promised 202

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him he would be there for their weekly games. Raphael had never before let him down. Terror chilled the Viscount to his bones. He slapped his hands to his face, grief-stricken. A week of this passed; he took in a long, slow breath and once again went to Relief's house. To his great joy, Honora answered the door. His relief was short-lived though. He took a closer look into her face. Her red-rimmed eyes spoke of serious trouble. "Oh my God, what has happened?" "She's gone." His stomach heaved, and his legs went weak. He pressed his hand to the door railing. "What?" he spat out. "Gone?" She swallowed visibly. "My lord, she has gone to the country to rest." He slapped his hands to the sides of his head and laughed crazily. "My lord?" Dropping his hands, he gave her an incredulous look before pulling her into a suffocating embrace. Again he laughed incredulously. Honora blinked, not moving a limb, uncertain of how to react. "She's alive! She's alive!" Another laugh. She sighed deeply, and a little sob escaped her lips. He pulled away, gazing at her with uncertainty as a tingling sensation of fear alarmed him. "Why do you appear to be so distraught, Miss Moore?" He grasped her shoulders. "Miss Moore?" "I am just here to gather some of her things." One little sob escaped her again, and she wiped a falling tear. "She has 203

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a doctor—but he doesn't know if she'll survive. I might lose her!" She rubbed her wet eyes. He trembled, freezing from dread and not the weather. "I ... m-must go ... t-to her." "No." He tensed his jaw. "Honora." "No. She does not want to see you." "Honora?" "No." "We love each other, damn it! She is going to be my wife! I demand to see her!" "She will never be your wife! She muttered after the surgeon removed the bullet that she never wanted to see you again." "Why for the love of God, would she say that?" he asked quite desperately. "Because she said that after this incident, you would make her give up her independence." "Damn right I would." "See?" "What do you expect?" He lifted his hands, open-palmed in gesture, and then slapped then down at his sides. "This has nothing to do with that." "It has everything to do with it." "No, my lord, it does not. She has had a man after her for some time now." "Raphael told me a story about a man who took your uncle's diamond. He had an obsession with her." "That is not to whom I refer." 204

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"What are you trying to say, Miss Moore?" "I have said too much already." He grasped her arms again. "Miss Moore, look into my eyes. I am going to be your sister's husband. I swear it on my honor as a man. I will give you ten thousand guineas if she is not my wife within one year." He looked down, shook his head and smiled in deep sarcasm. With his family's current situation, that kind of money would have to be stolen. He wasn't going to say that. There was always the gaming tables. But he would bet his life on being able to convince Relief to be his wife, so it wasn't an issue. He gazed up at her. "She loves me, and you know it. Now, tell me what I demand to know." She hesitated then said, "Only if it will help my dear Leafy." "It will, I vow it to you." She nodded. "We lived in Asia for a couple of years." He watched her intently. "Something happened when we were there." Honora fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot, ringing her hands together. "I cannot tell you everything. My dear Leafy would disown me." "Highly unlikely." "I will not betray her then, my lord." "Honora, please." His despair was so keen that it was a physical ache, rendering his breath shallow, and his stomach sick. 205

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A light of trust, of faith brightened her eyes. She nodded. "Leafy was always an adventurous girl. She and Raphael chased squirrelly characters around the rolling hills of Ireland, and they climbed cliffs and discovered secret caves in Scotland. They pressed themselves against darkened walls along the narrow streets of Italy at three a.m. to discover the happenings of seedy characters, and in Asia, she came across a man who taught her—I mean her and Raphael—an ancient self-defense art." She stopped. "Please, continue." "He was a holy man, but he had enemies. One day Relief and Raphael were with this holy man in the gardens of his monastery. His enemy climbed a wall. He attacked with the intent of murdering this man. Raphael's teacher ordered them to take cover. While they watched from behind a short wall, their teacher fought a death fight with his evil adversary. It ended badly—Relief and Raphael's teacher fell under his enemy's blade, after a valiant fight—right before their very eyes." "Oh my God." "The murderer approached them. Raphael had run to find help—he was so young then. Relief was frozen to the spot; she couldn't be dragged by Raphael, though he tried. The man grabbed her by the neck, ready to snap it. She used her palm and did an advance move to hurt him, striking him in the chest. He stumbled back, totally dazed. She ran. "Since that day, he has tormented her, following her from country to country. He gave me a note promising that he was going to end her life. He has dragged this on for a long while. 206

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Raphael has worked very hard to sharpen his skills. He is a top fighter, my lord, formidable so he can protect Relief. Do not worry. And do not say a word. She never even told our parents or our brothers." Angry tears stung his eyes. With fisted hands, he swore, "I will kill this man." "Our servants and Mrs. Miller believe her injury is far less serious than it is. She never came back to the house. You, I, the doctor and the nurse are the only ones who realize she might die. She wants this unknown, hoping she'll survive. Even in her feverish state, she begged me." He could barely contain his rage. He wanted to find the man now and spill his blood. "He can practically fly, my lord. He has tools to help him, and great skill. He got away when there were at least ten security guards at the theatre. He is almost inhuman. Yet Relief does not believe in murder or execution. She is quite sickened by it. She would let a criminal go with a beating first, though, or send him to prison. She has a temper, but one she can control." He frowned. For some inexplicable reason, he remembered the day he met Raphael when Raphael had chased the highwayman into the woods but let him off with a warning. "Bring me to my wife-to-be now." It was not a request.

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Thirteen "We will take my father's traveling chariot. He is at one of his estates. I'll drive, Miss Moore. We will head there directly." She already had a case packed, intending on taking a public coach there until the Viscount showed up. They went to his townhouse in the dark of night, where he grabbed the barest necessities, throwing them in a leather bag in haste. She had thrown on a wig for disguise. They approached his family's chariot, and he helped her into the body of the vehicle, which had room for two people inside. He glanced at the sword case fitted to the back. Remembering the day he was accosted by the highwayman, he decided to keep a weapon up front, where he could get to it quickly. The leather straps which connected the body to the perch would prevent too much side sway as they hurried along the roads. He would lead the team of horses from the box seat and would not be bringing servants. Though he seethed with increasing fear at losing the love of his life, he kept a calm composure, thinking clearing and acting quickly. He hopped up onto the driver's seat, snapped the reins, and they dashed off. The image of Relief's beautiful face drove him on hard, his focus sharp, his intention hard as steel. They passed two coaching inns and came to a third before he knew he had to stop, for the sake of the horses. The inn was built around a central cobbled courtyard. The chatter and movement of passengers and their servants going 208

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about their business rang through the air. A horn shrilled, and a coach departed, filled with travelers. He jumped down, and his feet hit the ground with a loud thud. He handed the reins to a team of hostlers. "We will not be staying. We need to lease another pair. Do this quick." One of the young men nodded and took his money. "Aye, my lord." They got to work, immediately, changing the horses. He went to Miss Honora and peered into the window of the chariot. "Do you require refreshment before we go?" She shook her head, her eyes puffy from the fatigue of crying. "No, and you?" "I'll be lucky if I can eat before I drop from hunger." Minutes later, the horses were ready. He leapt up to his seat, and they were off. He drove until the small, rented house was in view. Miss Moore poked her head out and shouted, pointing, "That's it!" He turned onto the driveway. Once at the house, both he and Miss Moore dashed to the front door. She snatched it open and ran up a set of stairs, he sprinted after her. She tore into a room. He stopped in his beloved's doorway and hesitated, bracing himself for the worst, as fearful images developed in his mind. If Relief was at death's door, he didn't know what he'd do. He stepped carefully into the room but stayed off to the side. He dared a glance at Relief's pale face and body, holding his breath. The pastiness of her skin intensified the dark color of her hair. Her chest moved up and 209

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down slowly. She slept deeply. He swallowed tears down his constricted throat. Honora whispered to him. "My poor sister! She needs her rest, my lord. I pray you, do not disturb her." "I wouldn't think of it," his voice relayed his sorrow. They watched her sleep. Miss Honora's fists rested at her sides, and tears ran silently down her cheeks. The Viscount touched her arm, and she turned and pressed her face into his chest. He held her tightly. He swayed from extreme fatigue, and his stomach ached with hunger. "My lord, if I may." He released her. She sat in a satin chair by the bed, and put her hands on Relief's arm. He gazed around. There were no other chairs in the tiny room. He sat on the floor with his knees up, put his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He clasped his hands together and prayed fervently. Sometime during the night, he had fallen asleep and woke up on the wood floor. In the circle of the dim light of a candle resting on a small table, Miss Honora was asleep in the chair, holding Relief's hand, leaning forward onto the bed. He stood up and went to her, laying a soft hand on her shoulder. "Allow me. Please, settle yourself in the guest room. I'll watch over her." "My lord—" "Miss Honora," his voice came out scratchy. "I must insist." She nodded and stumbled out of the room, grabbing the doorframe on the way out to steady herself. As streaks of light from dawn filtered through a window to the side of the bed, Lord Cheltham's eyes flickered open. He 210

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bent to kiss Relief's forehead. It was cold. His stomach growled. He stood up and made his way done stairs, calling out. "Hello?" A man in the suit of a doctor turned the corner. "Would you be Lord Cheltham?" "Indeed, sir. You're Miss Moore's doctor?" He nodded. "I am Doctor Timpson." "She needs food, sir." He gestured to another room. "Come with me to the kitchen. I have prepared a big pot of soup. You appear pallid yourself. You should eat as well." "After she has, and I will have the honor of feeding her." "As you wish." "Is she going to survive, Doctor?" "It's in God's hands." Lord Cheltham swallowed a lump in his throat and followed the doctor to the kitchen. With soup in hand, he went upstairs. Miss Honora greeted him with an anxious smile when he stepped into his love's room. Miss Honora removed herself from the chair. "Thank you." He dipped the spoon in the bowl. "Wait," Miss Honora said. She went around to the other side of the bed and propped up her sister's head against the pillows. He lifted a trembling hand then steadied it so he wouldn't spill broth on Miss Moore. He placed the spoon to her lips and gently parted them with the utensil. Miss Honora aided him by adjusting her sister's head. 211

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"Swallow, Leafy. You need to eat." Miss Moore moaned, and the Viscount swallowed his anxiety. He glanced at the doctor, standing nearby. "That is a fortunate sign, is it not?" He responded with a grave look. Lord Cheltham turned back to the task at hand. Spoonful by spoonful, he fed her until she would take no more, each time, saying a silent prayer that she would swallow another little bit. Two more days passed, and Miss Moore did not awaken fully. He spent almost the entire time in the room with her, only stepping out for the necessities. And once, Miss Honora talked him into stepping outside for five minutes for a breath of fresh air. He slept on the floor on a blanket at night or in that chair, holding her hand, and he looked at her often, his own life hanging in the balance. His heart pounded with anxiety as he beheld her, as if he were running down a long, dark road. He'd either find the light at the end, or fall off a cliff. In the light of day, he studied her face for the smallest signs of recovery. He turned to her sister in the morning and smiled. "She has a bit of color now, don't you think?" She looked down at her sister's sleeping form and smiled. "I believe she does!" "Nora," Miss Moore muttered. The Viscount gasped, staring down at her. Her eyes did not come open. "Nora," "Leafy?" she said in breathless tones, going on bended knee and taking her hand. "Does it still pain you?" 212

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"No," she barely managed. "Leafy, your prince..." "I ... never want ... to ... see him ... again." All pleasure drained from him. He frowned and exchanged a look with Miss Honora. Agony laced the girl's eyes, and she tore her gaze from his and looked at her elder sister. He stared at Miss Moore, suspended over the precipice of his alarm. "Surely you do not mean that. His lordship loves you." "I will marry him." "What?" Honora said, casting a quick glance at the Viscount. His heart started again and raced. "If..." "If what, Leafy?" "If..." She lifted a weak hand and gestured Honora closer. She whispered into her ear. Honora repeated her words out loud. "If he would let me continue all of my activities. If he knew about this though, he would not. He would most likely kill the man who did this to me, who got away, and I would stop loving my dear Benjamin." The Viscount straightened tight as a bow. He strode out of the room. He was pacing in the corridor when Honora came to him. "Miss Honora, this is intolerable." "You have to pretend not to know, my lord." "Why?" He frowned but argued no further. 213

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"Do you wish to become my brother-in-law?" "More than I wish for my next breath." "Then you know what you have to do." He didn't say another word knowing he could argue no further at this point. He was formulating a plan. He stayed a few more days until he knew Miss Moore was well on the way to recovering. He went home and spent most of his time locked in his private office, taking care of business he had neglected. In his moments of free time, he thought of her, and many possibilities of how to reach her crossed his mind. He knew he'd have to be bold, sensing that mere polite inquiries would not win her hand. She was the most unusual woman he had ever known, and she was worth what he would have to do to make her see reason. **** He saw her at tea at the home of a mutual acquaintance after a week of intense work and thought that had ensued. Not knowing she would be there, his heart leapt with surprised joy. She looked well! His beloved had come through without a relapse. He said a prayer of thanks. Honora was leading her gently by the elbow at this lawn party. She was dressed elegantly as usual and to him was still the most beautiful woman there. Many people graced her with smiles, delighted to see her amongst their ranks again. Lord Cheltham heard comments here and there about how fortunate it was she had only suffered a superficial injury. She 214

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told everyone that she had been visiting relatives recuperating from a flesh wound. The Viscount looked across the table at her, not hiding the love he felt. She closed her eyes a moment, and then turned away. What are you thinking, my love? Uncertainty disturbed him. Later, on the lawn, he crossed over to her. She gave him a snub. Startled, but determined, he walked around and faced her. He would not give up so easily, not with the most important issue that ever concerned him in his life. "Miss Moore." "My lord, I would appreciate if you would take care to harass me no further. I have had my fill of obsessed fanatics. I fear I can no longer tolerate your attentions." Deep frustration exploded in him, and he forgot who he was and where he was for the moment. Primitive intention took over. "Damn it, Relief! How can you say such things to me? An obsessed fanatic? My God, I am no such thing!" "You are no better than the man who stole my uncle's diamond." He took in a full, deliberate breath. "Do not do this to me." "You will not dictate my life to me, sir!" "I will protect you, Relief, whether you like it or not!" "Go away! I do not want to be protected! I am not helpless!" she exclaimed and rushed across the lawn toward her carriage. Her white horse neighed when she laid a hand on its mane and petted it. 215

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He raked his fingers through his hair and paced, deciding to take this to the next level. He saw her again in public in front of a shop with her sister, Mrs. Miller and a couple of lady friends and again attempted to reason with her. "Leave me be, leave me be!" An older woman approached the Viscount. "My lord, is there a problem?" "I demand to speak with Miss Moore!" "My lord, she does not wish for your attentions." "Too damn bad!" I'm losing control. A frightened shiver ran the length of him, but he had to continue down this path or he'd never forgive himself for his lack of courage. The ladies gasped. "You may be nobility, my lord, but there are laws against accosting an innocent woman!" He turned to this elder protector of Miss Moore with his hands fisted. "Accosting madam? I am doing no such thing!" Tears glistened in Miss Moore's blue eyes. Her friends looked at her with pity. "My dear Miss Moore, do you want him here?" the elder lady asked. She shook her head. Lord Cheltham turned to her and his anger softened. "Relief, my love, we should discuss this. Please, darling. Come with me. We need to talk. I promise to keep an open mind and hear you out. I swear to consider your point of view 216

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in the most profoundly earnest way. I will not dismiss a single word out of hand. What do I have to do to win your hand? When you disappeared, I went crazy. I cannot possibly have a future without you. I will protect you with my life because your life is worth more to me than my own." Several of the women standing nearby developed tears in their eyes. Teardrops rolled down Relief's pretty face. She gazed upon his face. "I do not wish to be protected," she said softly. He touched her arm, desperate to change her mind. It was eating him up alive. He found himself gripping the velvet of her sleeve and relaxed his fingers. "I admire a man of courage," she muttered. "A man who pursues with his heart and soul what he believes to be right, a man who can match the fire that burns within me." Was that a personal compliment? His lips formed a smile, and warmth spread through him. "If you were another man, I'd have Raphael teach you some courtesy. However, it's you, and I—" She blushed, took a deep breath, and then continued. "My lord, there is to be a ball at Lord Whittingham's home shortly." "Yes, I have received the invitation." He brought his hand to his side. "He has apologized to Honora and me. He has gone to great lengths to express his regrets at upsetting her the night of the dinner. Honora has decided to give him another chance." 217

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The Viscount smiled. "You and your charming sister are going to attend the ball?" "Yes." "I will too then. If he has satisfied your sense of honor, I will welcome him as my friend once again." "You ended it, over one comment he made about me?" "Yes. We were in short coats at Eton together. We were small boys when we met, but I would have dismissed him from my life permanently if he had not retracted his insult to you." "I will see you at the ball, my lord. Dress well, maybe wear a touch of ivory?" She quirked one brow up a notch, playfully. His heart lurched. She saluted him. He walked away, smiling and then he chuckled. Raphael must have taught her that, for it was a boyish thing to do. The delightful little lad was always brightening people's day with that gesture and his winsome smile. **** He was hiding around a dark corner, waiting. Finally he heard the pounding of steps heading his way. Raphael was running, chasing a criminal in the night. Something was wrong with his friend. He had seen the young lad do backflips and land in front of his prey, shocking them and then overtaking them before. Raphael wasn't doing this now. His running seemed labored. Lord Cheltham jumped out, surprising them both. They stopped suddenly and stared at him. 218

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"Come on man!" He shouted, taking a wide stance, fists drawn, left hand close to his body, right one extended. He threw a downward left hook and several more punches in the air with amazing speed, displaying his excellent skill and technique. The heavy-set man struggled to catch his breath and looked from Raphael to Lord Cheltham nervously. Raphael crossed his arms and stood back, grinning. He glowed with amusement. Then he gestured to his friend. Lord Cheltham nodded and stepped forward. "Wait!" Raphael shouted. They turned and looked at him. He pulled a short blade out of its leather sheath at his side. He walked up to the big man and gave it to him, then promptly stepped back. The large man's eyes grew wide. "So you will be evenly matched with my friend. He can fight, you dirt-bag. Cheltham, show that you are worthy of that arrogance you carry around so well." Lord Cheltham grinned and attacked the brick-wall of a man who outweighed him by at least half a small horse. Lord Cheltham roared a battle cry, swung with his entire weight behind the punch. The man went flying, back four feet, scrambled to his feet and charged him. He grabbed him by the waist, running. Lord Cheltham fell to the ground with a heavy thump and coughed. His adversary slashed with his blade. He kneed the man in the groin and rolled away. The criminal came at him again and managed to slice across his leg. Stinging fire ripped over his flesh. He spun around and hit the man in the jaw with his palm—a very Asian-type fighting move that Raphael had taught him. Lord Cheltham 219

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stood back, bleeding from the leg, panting, and looking down at the unmoving man. He wiped his brow with the back of his arm. "That was exhilarating, Raphael. What was he guilty of?" Raphael laughed. "You don't know?" "No, how could I, lad?" "But you knocked him out cold!" "If you were going after him, he was a bad man." "You have a lot of faith in me." "Of course," he answered. "He attempted to take a child, a pretty little girl, surely to sell her into prostitution. Thank the Lord I stopped him. I shall report on his whereabouts and have him taken in. He should be laying there for another..." "Thirty minutes or so. I will accompany you." "How's your leg?" "It barely hurts." Blood was seeping out. Raphael bent to look. Lord Cheltham stopped him with his hand. "No, boy, 'Tis not necessary." "As you wish. Relief would be proud." "Oh?" "Yes, you are becoming the hero of which she dreams." He turned to face Raphael as hope seared through his spirit. "Dear God, I must make her my wife." "She doesn't want your protection." "Why? Does she not have faith in me? Does she not believe in my abilities?" 220

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"That's not the case. She does not want to feel helpless. The thought terrifies her." "Now we are getting somewhere." "She wants a hero who will stand up and protect other people, but not her. She feels that it is imperative that she has a sense of independence. Does that make sense?" "I have never heard of any woman in the history of women wanting this." "She has her reasons." "I swear that I won't permit her to be hurt ever again." "If she cannot protect herself, then she's going to be doing the waltz with Old Mr. Grim." "I will never allow that to happen, I promise you!" "You cannot guarantee that. Besides she has said that it would be an ugly feeling placing one's survival in another's hands." "But she's a woman!" "Get over your low viewpoint of women, sir!" "I do not look down upon her or other women!" "I teach her how to defend. She will be fine." "It's my job to protect her!" "It's her own damn job, damn it!" "I will prove I can do it. I swear it." **** The next night, Lord Cheltham went looking for Raphael again on the stinking, noisy streets of the city. He saw a boy leaning down, looking into a low window of a run-down house belonging to a local merchant. He moved toward him. 221

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"Is there trouble, lad?" "No sir. They're milling in the basement." "Who are they?" "The city's best street-fighters. The underworld folks, unknown to higher folks." Lord Cheltham raised his brows. "Really?" "It's a prize fight. They're sparring their hearts out." Lord Cheltham leaned down and observed with interest men bloodying each other up. He saw Raphael knock out a man. The lad held up his arms and people cheered him on. He grinned wide enough to fill up the room with his delight. Lord Cheltham knocked on the small dirty window to garner his attention. It worked. Raphael frowned and made his way up. He faced his friend. "Did you see it, Cheltham?" "I did. Good fight, lad! You are greatly skilled." "There is going to be an ongoing tournament for honor. I do this to get more respect. In the long-term, I won't have to fight so much if I win the great prize. One look from a little winner like me who is known to take out men much bigger, and fellas considering trouble will think twice!" "It's a grand idea, my friend. How do I sign up?" Lord Cheltham inquired of Raphael, smiling. He glanced down into the small window once more and saw a rather stocky man take a hard one in the face by his smaller competitor. Lord Cheltham winced. The scruffy stranger boy standing next to them scratched his side and frowned. "No, you two 'ight not wanna continue with this." 222

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"Why?" Lord Cheltham asked, inhaling deeply. Do I not look like I can fight? He puffed up his chest in masculine pride. "A mysterious chap sign' up earlier. He's a killer I 'ear." The boy wiped a soiled hand down the front of his even dirtier shirt. Raphael raised his brows. "Tell me more." "The cull wore a dark, hooded cloak. Hada a strange accent, 'e did. Break-teeth words, 'ard ta understand. From Asia, maybe from China. Not sure." Lord Cheltham took in a deep, deliberate breath. "I am going to kill the bastard." He shot my woman. Raphael turned to him sharply. "I cannot permit you to fight him, Cheltham. You'll die." "You know I can fight. I'm an old dog at it, Raph, so what's the problem?" "You do not know this man. His style of fighting—" He gave him a look of desperation. "He's from the continent of Asia, is he not?" Lord Cheltham inquired of the young boy. The youthful stranger nodded his head. "So I have a little bit of experience with his style." He glanced at Raphael. Confidence glowed in the stranger boy's eyes, as if he knew for certain that the Asian competitor could easily kill them. He held up his hand.

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"Aye, the sonuva puppy's mama. Has an 'xotic fighting style, like nothin' I ever seen before, 'xcept from our local hero, Raphael, of course. You wanna crash that cull?" Lord Cheltham reassured him of this with a cold nod. The boy shivered then nudged Raphael. "What's with the mask lately, Raph? You and this gent 'ere wearin' 'em?" He reached for it, and Raphael jumped back. "My friend wishes to remain unknown. Don't ask." The boy nodded to Raphael knowingly and continued discussing the villain. "I saw that man demonstrate his skill on a poor fella when 'e signed up. The man lies on a sickbed." "I'm going to kill him," the Viscount repeated with deadly calm. "No, Cheltham!" Raphael pleaded. "He hurt my beloved Relief." Lord Cheltham roamed his eyes across his young friend and anger tightened his chest. "She would not want this." Raphael held out his hands in a gesture of pleading. "I know. She believes that you should let killers go." Lord Cheltham tensed his jaw. Frustration pulsed through him. He rubbed his forehead as pain and pressure began to glow behind his eyes. Sometimes Relief does not know what is best, the dear girl. She needs me. His thoughts fired his heart, love expanding it with an urge to hold her and protect her. He fisted his hands. Apparently his young friend Raphael did not understand. "She does not think that way, Cheltham!" Raphael scoffed and tossed his hand through the air. 224

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Lord Cheltham considered his young friend. Raphael dressed in rough linen trousers and a loose-fitting shirt. He never wore a waist-jacket or cravat—had said that they confined him. Perhaps Raphael was in need of an older, wiser mentor himself. "But yet Relief would see them go unpunished," Lord Cheltham declared. Raphael's not telling me something. Raphael took a step, stopped, and put his hands on his hips. He looked at the ragged little boy, then back at the Viscount. "That is simply not true, Cheltham. She has always reported any trouble makers to the authorities. She hopes to see them land in prison, not dead. She abhors seeing people die." His cheeks flushed with— Was it fear? "She has seen death." Sympathy and regret for the ugliness his beloved had seen turned the Viscount's stomach. "Yes. Don't fight that man, Cheltham." Raphael threw his arms up again, agitated. "Once she feels safer, she will marry me." Lord Cheltham turned to look at the surrounding, poverty-stricken neighborhood. Houses too close together, people drinking in the streets, rowdy children running wild... "She will not. Relief will never marry you until you comprehend her. You would take something important from her. And if you fight this man, you will lie in your eternity box." He stamped a booted foot, and a patch of dirt flew a few inches. 225

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Lord Cheltham stood up. "If it ensures that my love will live, then so be it, Raphael." Raphael's eyes popped open. "Her harasser has seen you and Relief together. She has spotted him from the distance when you were with her." "What? When?" "You couldn't kick the answer out of me, Cheltham." "She doesn't believe in me." "That isn't true! She wants security when you cannot be at her side. Would you be willing to teach her how you fight?" Lord Cheltham's brows rose with great surprise. "She is a woman!" "What's your point?" "It would be unladylike beyond the little bit of selfprotection she already knows, to ... to ... box!" He crinkled his brow in distaste. Raphael rolled his eyes. "If she is 'unladylike' then why do you want her?"

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Fourteen He saw Relief in his mind's eye. He thought, She is a beautiful, entrancing angel, and I feel exceedingly masculine in her presence. He said, "Relief is fully a lady, Raphael, a beautiful one." Raphael laughed. "She's no delicate flower." He lifted his hand in the air daintily and rolled his eyes, making fun of frailty. "She appears as one to me." Lord Cheltham folded his arms across his chest. "You want to force your illusion on her." "No. I love her as she is." He lowered his arms to his sides and turned toward the window as loud cheering cut through the air. Raphael gave a quick glance to the fighters through the glass, and then raised his gaze to the Viscount. "It's not the real her you love, but rather the lady that you have created in your own mind." He pointed in accusation. "I don't care that she is an American rebel." Vexation pricked at his skin, and he forced out a long breath. His words sounded curt to his own ears. "I want her." He tightened his jaw. "Do you really, Cheltham?" "Yes!" He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Her parents brought her up well, but Relief and her sister were born with spirit. They will act the perfect, proper little ladies when they have to, but both girls are in reality, freer of 227

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mind. Relief could hide this in public, but would you be able to accept her true nature behind closed doors, Cheltham?" "Just how wild ... is she?" "Accept her for what she really is, all of her, Cheltham." Raphael's voice had lowered to a reflective tone. "Look, Raphael. It is my duty as a man to be her protector and her duty as a woman to allow it." "You need to find yourself a traditional woman, Cheltham. That's what you need to do. You just don't understand." Was that resignation in Raphael's voice? Lord Cheltham shifted his weight as uneasiness crept into his chest like an ice-cold breeze through a crack in a window. "No, you don't understand, Raphael. If I cannot have her, I will die a bachelor." And I will die young. I am quite mad with love. I will never feel this way for another woman, and I will not make a mockery of my life by marrying another. The boy by their side looked up from the window where he had been watching and grinned. He saluted them and dashed off. "A bachelor?" Raphael asked, after their companion left. Your voice—I hear sadness, thought the Viscount. "Your words shock me. You're nobility, Lord Cheltham." Lord Cheltham took a step, paused to rub his chin then raised his eyes to his friend. "Perhaps. Because I swear to God, Raphael, I will give my life to see that Relief is safe, whether or not she approves. I have never felt so overcome about anything in my life." "Are you just another dangerous pursuer, Cheltham?" "No! I am the man she is begging to win her over." He tossed up his hands, mildly offended. 228

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"How can you be so sure?" "She loves me, lad. I see it in her eyes." Raphael dropped his gaze suddenly. Lord Cheltham placed a hand on Raphael's shoulder then let it fall to his side. They began to walk away from the house. Lord Cheltham noted that the other rundown houses nearby contained open windows, some with people hanging out, sometimes shouting in vulgar language. He grimaced when two badly soiled boys ran closely past them, not giving a hoot about manners. Then one little boy at a distance smiled warmly at them. The Viscount smiled back and nodded. He and Raphael continued to walk about the residential area. Raphael lowered his voice. "You really want her?" "You know that I do." "You can have her as a temporary lover. She and I have spoken about it. You will have to marry someone else. That will serve to fulfill your need to protect a woman. You scare Relief with your obsession at times." "I do not want to scare her. You're telling me to go to another woman?" Lord Cheltham stopped in his tracks, disbelief chilling him from head to toe. Raphael followed suit, appearing as if he were doubtful. Some dust floated up behind their feet. "Cheltham, what you want is a dream, a beautiful, romantic dream. It can never be more than that." Lord Cheltham turned to him sharply, not believing what he was hearing. How could Raphael be so against the match? 229

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Anger heated the Viscount's blood. He slammed his fist in an arc through the air and rested it at his side. "You do not understand the unremitting nature of my feelings, Raphael. My God, I need her to breathe." "For your own sake, say goodbye to the dream, Cheltham." He considered Raphael's words carefully. His chest ached with desperation. "I love her. I will make her see how much she loves me, too." **** Honora ran into Relief's chambers with a wide-eyed look of horror. "Sister, sister, I've just received news from Beth, our friend at the hat shop." "What is it?" Relief's stomach fell with dread. "The Viscount was seen talking with a blonde lady in a lavender dress." "She could be anybody, Honora." "She's a friend of Beth's cousin. Beth has been told that the Viscount might start courting the Cyprian." Relief slapped her hand over her mouth as despair fell upon her, heavy in its touch. Honora placed her hand on her sister's arm. "I'm sorry, Relief." Tears stung Relief's eyes. "He's the grandest liar I have ever known, Honora," she said, blinking back tears. She would not cry over him, she promised herself, biting her trembling lip, squeezing her hands into fists and breathing quickly, intent on keeping her composure. 230

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That evening she decided on a dashing, dangerous phaeton for riding in Hyde Park while she considered her situation. The Viscount pulled his shiny curricle close to hers and smiled at her with love. She stared at him defiantly. "Pray, do not endure an accident in that vehicle, my lord," she scowled. He snapped the ribbons and was off. "I vow woman, you will be the death of me!" His carefully chosen team pulled him forward in a hurry. Later he parked his vehicle and walked along the footpath forlornly, not far from the carriage drive. Many people had retired to their homes to prepare for supper, so it was quiet. The lavender-gowned woman pulled up in her barouche, smiling coyly at the Viscount. "My lord." He bowed slowly, not smiling. He stood a couple of yards away when she began to talk with him as her female escort sat back in silence, watching. Relief sat steaming, several yards behind the blonde woman's carriage, observing from a rented vehicle. Honora brushed off the long sleeve of her sister's simple gown and primped her red wig. A stray curl fell from underneath her large bonnet. "You cannot recognize us." Relief glanced to her sister who wore a short black wig of Grecian curls. "No, good idea you had, Honora, so we can get a closer look. The only problem is, I'm about to explode!" "So do." "It wouldn't be right." 231

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"Beth said that the woman was overheard saying she intended to trap Lord Cheltham into marriage." "What?" "Yes, Leafy. Go put her down!" Relief jumped down and marched forward. Lord Cheltham's jaw dropped as Relief pulled the hated wench from her carriage and spat out her words of anger. "You Cyprian bit o'muslin!" The blonde woman slapped Relief hard and screamed, "Help! Help! I'm being accosted!" Relief's hand flew up, and she touched her stinging cheek briefly. She gasped and slapped the woman back. It happened so fast. Regret ran through her heart, as she considered that she wasn't brought up to behave this way. Relief stood there, confused and overwhelmed with passion. "Ladies, ladies!" The Viscount jumped in and pulled them apart. Anger boiled to the surface, and Relief spoke, barely moving her lips. She snapped her head to the Viscount. "You have betrayed me. My heart stings," she hissed. He leaned forward closely at the sound of her voice, etched with pain, low as it was, and peered into her eyes, taken aback. Suddenly his face lit up with happiness, and recognition made his eyes shine. "You're jealous of Miss Madison." The woman in lavender tossed them both a look of disgust, ascended her carriage and ordered her driver to be off. They parted post-haste. 232

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"Who is she?" Relief demanded. Anger like the kind she knew when a man hit a child in the gutter made her tremble. "Oh, only my future bride." He crossed his arms smugly across his chest and leaned back on his heels. "What? How could that be? You did not defend her, my lord. So, I ask again, what did you say?" She lowered her head and looked at him fiercely, the way she did as Raphael on occasion. "You heard me. Since you and Raphael believe that I would be infinitely happier marrying a traditional woman. So be it." His lips turned into a playfully arrogant smile. "Go to the devil." She stormed off. **** Lord Cheltham watched Relief leave and clenched his hands tightly. He had real hope again. Relief was mad for him. My plan worked! Three hours later he fought in the merchant's basement as plain Mr. Wright, when to his shock, Relief and Honora walked through the door, disguised as they had been in the park. He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his arm once his opponent was down. Someone congratulated him. "Mr. Wright, if you win one more, you will have the privilege of going against our favorite, Raphael Taylor." Lord Cheltham barely acknowledged this. He went straight to Relief and grabbed her arms. He pulled her into a dark corner, and two men started another fight. The room filled with cheering. Honora stood close by her sister, trying not to 233

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pay heed to her conversation with the Viscount. Honora sniffed the air and put a dainty finger to her nose. "It smells like sweat in here." No one paid much attention to her words. She dropped her hand and lifted her eyes to survey the room. It was stuffy and loud. Lord Cheltham let his arms fall to his sides, and Relief shifted from one foot to the other. "What are you doing here? Are you here to support Raphael? I haven't seen him yet. How did you and your sister get out of your house undiscovered and unchaperoned?" Relief looked at his hands by his sides. "I am accustomed to sneaking past my escorts. Mrs. Miller believes we are asleep. We have arranged our blankets convincingly." He grimaced. "I was informed that my reputation among the ton is in question now sweetheart, mostly topped off by that tussle with Miss Madison, though few saw it. They did not expect me to be involved in such a vulgar situation, with a woman of the night, even with my newly strange ways. They wondered how 'that woman' got through the entrance." "I'm sorry, my lord. Perhaps I could—" He touched her cheek, smiling fully now. "Ah, Relief, I am so happy that you feel so fervently for me. Your demonstration made my heart go pit-a-pat. You love me." "I'm not going to marry you." He frowned. Why are you so obstinate? You love me too, woman! "This place is not safe. You should leave." This is not the place to talk some sense into you, though I'd like to shake it into you! Deep frustration wracked his whole body and he drew in a long, deliberate breath. 234

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"No, I will not leave." She lifted her pretty chin defiantly. I'm not going to win this one, he thought. I know that look in a woman's eyes. "Then would it be too much to ask for you to give me your support?" If you're going to stay, Relief, then you're going to be here cheering me on, as my woman. She took a soft ribbon from her hair and tied it around his upper arm. He glanced down at the pink satin, as she formed it into a bow. Aware of her slender hands, he noted the tender way she took on this task. He inhaled sharply. She is with me. Her slow, deliberate movements betrayed her hesitation to withdraw her hands from his skin. He encouraged her to explore with a soft seductive glance, picturing her skimming his moist skin from shoulder to fingertips with a delicate dragging of her hand. I need you, Relief. I want to feel your intimate touch. Heat flushed through him. "What is this?" he asked in a hushed voice, considering her actions, his heart pounding, hoping he was correct in his assumption that she shared his need. She leaned to whisper to him. "Marry your demimonde, my lord." "You do have a temper." Delight lit up his insides at her display of jealousy. A charming curl fell upon her lovely shoulder. He longed to touch the soft, creamy skin. She clenched her jaw then took in a long breath through her nose. "Indeed. I would be your lover before the wedding ceremony." "You do not wholly approve of me taking another as a wife?" Tell me, my darling! 235

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"I do not!" She closed her eyes a second, composing herself. "Then stop me." "I ... can't. But, Benjamin, I must—" her lip trembled. "I must know your love. We shall have to take precautions ... er ... against—" She blushed grandly, and pleasure enlivened him at the gloriously happy idea of her carrying his child. "Against becoming in a family way?" he finished her sentence, suppressing a smile. "Why would you want to be my lover?" Because you're deeply in love with me? Say it! "To make you pay." "I have done nothing. You are misguided, speaking with jealousy." "My lord," she set her jaw and played with the strap of her reticule. "I will give you memories to haunt you until you die, and then I will leave London, permanently. You have hurt me." "You are absolutely, profoundly impossible, lady." "You have hurt my pride and broken my heart!" she decried. His lips parted, but no words came out. "Be my lover, Benjamin. I will surpass the wickedest of your fantasies, but I will never be your wife," she said with a tone of vindictiveness. She wants revenge, I want her love, and maybe if we make love, I can make her see reason. Could I be so fortunate? He felt an intense shiver surge through his body compelling him to pull her into his arms and kiss her 236

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frantically. It seemed lightening had struck him, and he burned up. He kissed her as if he were dying and reaching for heaven. People in the room hooted and hollered. Lord Cheltham pulled away from her, feeling as though he would die, thrown into a fire. "I will take your offer, madam." "You will?" "Yes." "What has changed your mind?" "If there is no way you will ever marry me, then I care nothing for finding my downfall." His eyes fell, and he shook his head. "May I go to the devil. My cousin can have my future estate. My parents like him better anyway. The most proper Marquess can make them proud, as I have never been able to do. Raphael and I could start going after the more dangerous criminals, a killer ought to be able to clear the way for my parents' dearest nephew. I'll go down a hero, Relief." He lifted his head and seared his love into her eyes. "Then at least you will remember me and wished you had married me." She gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. She dropped a trembling hand, reached for his shoulder but let it fall instead. "No," she said harshly. **** Honora looked over her sister to assure herself that she had done an absolutely perfect job of making her look like a goddess. She was dressed in a ravishing white, classical muslin trained ball dress with white glass beads embroidered all over the gown, a silky ivory collar and short, puffy sleeves 237

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with ivory silk to make the gown all the more glamorous. Her hair was up, decorated with sparkling jewels. She was a vision. She smiled, quite pleased with her professional results. She herself wore a pale primrose gown with ribbons under the breast and a fashionably low neckline framed by lace. She wore a thin gold circlet over her golden ringlets. "The word of the day is 'inexpressibles,'" Relief said to Honora, in a soft voice, her posture, relaxed but correct. She used a dainty hand gesture, palm up, facing the ceiling, a wicked coy attitude behind her eyes. Then she held up her right hand and fisted it. She lowered her voice. "With this the lowlife received a nobber to the head. And with my flyers a swift kick in the nutmegs." She sighed. "Honora, deal with me roundly. Am I mad for having such conflicting sides to my personality?" "Leafy, when you speak in Italian, do you keep in mind the cultural values that follow the language and support it?" "Yes, that is only appropriate. The values of a nation strongly influence the language." "So you would not use Spanish mannerisms or French folk tales when speaking the language of the Italians?" "Of course not, unless explaining them. Each culture should be respected." "You speak eight languages and each has its own set of cultural rules and history and expectations." "Yes." "You switch from one frame of thought to the next as you change languages." 238

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"Yes." "Is it not the same with human nature? Most people do have other sides to them, Leafy. It's what makes them interesting. Your sides are just more sharply defined." Leafy drew her into a hug, before they walked into the candlelit ballroom in the lovely mansion in Berkeley Square. There they heard graceful music from the strings of a Viennese orchestra. Sparkling chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Long tails, evening breeches of satin, silk stockings, waistcoats with fobs and seals, frosty white high cravats with glittering gemstone stick pins, close-fitting evening coats and shoes with diamond buckles were a ubiquitous occurrence among the gentlemen. The ladies sported gowns of various colors and styles, feathers, turbans, jewels, little silk shoes, or Roman sandals, and bronze kid gloves. The warm illumination of the candles cast a lush, sparkling glow to the whole of Relief's appearance. Hundreds of beads captured bits of light and reflected it back with every move she made. Several people looked over and stopped their conversations. She saw the Viscount halt his conversation with Lord Whittingham. Lord Cheltham slowly placed his wineglass down and looked at Relief so blatantly passionate that she grabbed Honora's arm. He rubbed the side of his face, feet frozen to the spot where he stood. Lord Whittingham had attempted to gain his attention again but failed. Finally Lord Whittingham gave up and made his way to the sisters. He gave a slight bow as he greeted them. Taking one on each arm, he led them to a refreshment table, smiled, and 239

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then excused himself explaining, as the host, he must speak with all those present. Honora leaned and whispered to Relief. "Your prince, he's staring open-mouthed. I'll wager his mouth just went bone dry." When Relief did not answer, she stopped walking and took a careful look at her. Relief was also staring, at him. He looked as dignified as her heart could handle in his dark blue evening coat with a velvet collar and cuffs. His breeches were of the finest quality and were the color of the silk that adorned her dress. "My prince has overcome me," she muttered so softly, that Honora almost did not hear her. "Sister, you are strange tonight. What is wrong? I know that something is terribly amiss." "Do not repine over me, my little Honora. Do what you came here to do." Honora nodded, looked around, and then disappeared. Relief quivered. She not only decided against approaching Lord Cheltham, she avoided him altogether. She could see his increasing frustration in his features as he caught the occasional glimpse of her across the large room. Every time he would make his way to her, she would disappear. He was making her crazy. She had to stay away from him. Thoughts of surrendering wildly to him raced through her head over and over. Visions of their joining put her on the high-ropes all evening. Later, right before beginning the country dance, Honora gave her a serious look as if to say, "The mission is completed." 240

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Relief gave her a barely perceptible nod to acknowledge this. The couples lined up and danced, and the sisters hid their fears. Afterwards, Honora pulled Relief into the shadows of a corner of the room and whispered to her in the now eerie candlelight. "Leafy, we must make our exit as quickly as possible." "Honora yes. Concerning the other matter..." Her heart felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. "Come Honora, we must go." Deep disappointment cut into her. "But—" "I fear I cannot follow through with my original plan. I am afraid that we must leave London as soon as possible and never look back." Suddenly, to their apprehension, his voice broke across their whispers. "Ladies, may I have a private word with my soon-to-be bride?" They turned to look at him. "My lord—" "Miss Honora, would you please excuse us?" Honora nodded and walked away, looking at Relief, nervously. Relief gave her a reassuring look. When alone, she considered the Viscount. "My lord." She forced a smile, her heart pounding in apprehension. "Oh please, be more intimate. You are American, and you are about to become my wife." She opened her mouth to protest. The poor fool. 241

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"Do not speak," he cut her off. "You will listen to me, and you will obey." Anger filled her. She curled her fingers into little fists. She jutted out her chin in defiance and shifted it. He grinned. "You are terribly adorable, even when provoked to anger." "Lord Cheltham—" "I know about Raphael, who he really is." She grew cold. Oh God. "You ... you do?" Dizziness overcame her. She struggled not to show her anxiety. Her world was coming to an end. "Yes." She met his eyes, and her stomach churned with nausea. He stepped closer. "Sweet love," he muttered. "Why have you never told me that he is your brother?" "My what?" She was taken off-stance. Appeasement gave her an easier breath. She stood on lighter feet, and tingled as elation over her still safe secret reassured her of her future as a crime-fighter. "My brother." She grinned. "Ah yes, my brother." She shrugged. "He asked me not to. It was his opinion that he could best protect me by keeping the secret." "Well, my dear. I will keep your secret. It pleases me to know that my closest friend is going to be my brother-in-law." "You arrogant, obstinate—"Anger rushed her. He put up his hand. "Enough, Relief. In the next ten minutes, you and I are going to announce our engagement to this room full of people." 242

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She spun away from him. He grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. "Relief, do not be afraid. I will be exceptionally good to you. I will love you tenderly and with all the strength of my heart." Moisture came to her eyes. "That is not in my doubts, my lord." I'm losing control. He frowned. "I feel intimate with you already, for some inexplicable reason. Call me Benjamin, as if we were in America." "My lord, I realize that you must have sustained a blow to the head and are currently ill. Maybe your brains were arranged out of order by the shuffling of your cradle, or perhaps it was all that boxing you do but please, listen to me carefully. We are not engaged. I can never marry you." "That's where you are wrong, Relief. You will be my wife within three weeks."

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Fifteen She closed her eyes. "You poor dear. You are crazy." "No, my love. I know that your dear sister, even as she sits on that bench looking around with poorly disguised fear is now carrying on her person a rather large pink diamond. I saw her exit the room momentarily, and I followed her." Fear flooded her body in a flash. She put her hand against the wall. "Benjamin, if you report this, she will—" She couldn't breathe. "Be harshly punished by the law, to be sure. I know." She collected herself. Reason with him. "It was stolen from our uncle. We are only going to return it to him. She ... she saw a note at the dinner party at which Lord Hawksworth dishonored me. Lord Whittingham's handwriting matched that of the note written by the thief. My sister is a master makeup artist." The words flowed from her before she could stop them. Fear tightened her stomach painfully. She took a series of labored gasps then continued. "She was able to disguise herself as a house-servant and snoop around until she discovered how to get her hands on the diamond." The expression in his gray eyes seemed to cry his understanding, his sympathy for her cause. "My love, don't—" he hesitated, glanced down briefly, and then met her eyes again with pleading regret. His voice came out as a harsh whisper. "Don't force me to do what would kill me to do." 244

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She cupped her hands over her face, pondering what his words meant. If she didn't do as he asked, Honora's life would be over. She imagined her sister hanging for her capital crime or spending her life in prison. As Raphael, Relief had stood in a crowd and watched a boy being hung for stealing. Her anguish nearly overwhelmed her control. She lowered her trembling hands and behind eyes blurred with tears, broke the terrible silence between them with a desperation she had never known before. "Please, my lord, I beg you. Please, let us walk away." She swooned, but caught her balance, holding out a hand to stay him as he reached for her. "If you truly love me, let us walk out of here. We will never bother you again. Your torment is over." His lips were parted, his arms by his side, his fingers extended, and distress on his face. He waited several seconds before answering. "You have three minutes before we announce our engagement." She blinked the tears away. "Benjamin, I can't." You've made your views clear, and I know you won't be the neglectful husband, therefore, I can't marry you. I could never hide my adventures from you. "You can and you will. I know that you love me." "My lord..." "Therefore, Relief, you will become my wife." "This is extortion." The air around her thickened and became darker.

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His eyes caressed her with tenderness. His stammering voice betrayed his regret. "I ... I am no barbarian, so dear love, I—" "I will never consummate the marriage." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I will not take you against your will." "You will never know my touch. Do you still insist on forcing me into marriage?" she snapped, then hissed between her teeth. He said with quiet, sad calm, "You will be my wife in three weeks." He gazed at her as if his heart were broken. He stepped forward, lifting his hand in a gesture of consolation, or pleading—she did not know. His actions injure him. Good! "I should not wonder at it if you were to take Miss lavender dress as your mistress since I will never warm your bed." She moved away, tensing her jaw. He shuddered. "Good God, no." He reached and placed the back of his fingers on her cheek. "No, my darling, and I promise that you and I will not be lovers until you have kissed me twelve times, one for each of the months that I have been in love with you. You will have full control over the moment of our consummation. The twelfth kiss will be my signal that you are ready to share that with me, to come to me as my wife." "In that case, my lord, I will never go above the eleventh kiss." She scanned this man, this beautiful man that she had fantasized about on many occasions, whom had driven her to distraction with lust, and a burning, intense anger seared 246

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through her. She gasped and brought her hand to her neck in an effort to get a grip on her boiling agony. "My kisses to you do not count in this." His anxious eyes lengthened the moment. She frowned, confused, and lowered her hand to her side. "I may give you thousands of them. I will melt your resolve with love that Shakespeare would be proud of." He placed his hand over his heart, and his eyes spoke of his passionate resolve. Her knees weakened beneath her. I lost. Either Honora is dead, or I am. He reached and grabbed her arm to steady her. She yanked away from his grasp and glared at him as she recaptured her composure. "And, my love, I dare say you have already given me three." "I hate you, bas—" she hissed. He cut her off, hand up, palm facing her. "I am of noble birth," he snapped, his brow crinkled with perturbation. "Try, Relief!" His hands came out in a gentle demand. "We can be so happy!" "An eleventh kiss is the best you could ever expect from me," she said in a cold monotone, preparing to make his life hell. "Are you certain that you still want to force me into matrimony?" She licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, looked him head to toe with blatant, mocking sexuality, and slid the fingers of one hand slowly down her neck. "You will never have me." 247

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He shuddered and stared at his feet, fisting his hands, forcing out his breath. Seconds later, he brought his bold gaze back to meet hers. He shrugged. "So be it. But at least you'll be alive." A shot of tenderness took her by surprise, and she took a moment to recuperate from this unwanted, unexpected emotion. "And I'll have plenty of time to seduce you. You're not going to know what's hit you, Relief." Fresh anger rippled through her, and she quaked with it. "Come, my dear." He reached out a hand. She glowered at it. He sighed. "We have a big announcement to make." "Go to the devil," she spat under her breath, and then saw Honora glancing at them with wide, nervous eyes from fifteen feet away. Relief took his arm and pinched it before allowing him to escort her forward. He guided her to the front of the room where the musicians were playing, not hesitating as he made his way through the throng of people staring inquiringly at them. He stopped by the conductor and asked if he would pause for a moment. Everyone standing in the warm incandescence of the room stopped what they were doing and stared. Relief shook with fear and resentment, her mind racing with ways out of this mess. Lord Whittingham walked up to them and narrowed his eyes. "What is this all about?" Lord Cheltham smiled softly. "I have news." 248

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He gave Relief's hand a quick squeeze. Silence hung in the air like thick curtains on a hot day. No one moved. "Everyone, I would like to announce the forthcoming nuptials of myself to my dearest Miss Relief Moore." His face glowed. Relief quivered when she saw the degree of happiness that sparkled in his eyes. Several people gasped, and then applause went up with happy congratulations. For the next hour, people made their way to them to share their glad feelings for them. Relief squirmed the entire time, imagining escaping London in the night. When finally the Viscount saw Relief and Honora to the front door of their home, he took Relief's hand in his own. He drew her fingertips to his lips and kissed each of her fingers slowly. Her heart jolted with an unanticipated rush of desire. She nearly gripped his lapels and yanked him into a kiss. Then she recovered her whit and stiffened her posture. Honora entered the house alone. "I bid you goodnight, Viscount." Relief said, with sadness. "Relief, my sweet love, I am mad about you. Please darling, see this as a miracle. Our future together," He swallowed what appeared to be deep emotion, "will be filled with joy." His eyes brimmed with longing. "Oh darling, you will be cherished in my arms." She lifted her chin and gazed at him. Resentment heated her blood. "I do not want you, Lord Cheltham." He straightened his back and contemplated her with a squint of disapproval. "I do not believe that." 249

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"And do not expect Raphael to meet you either." Do not cry, Relief, she thought and pulled away from him. A hurt look crossed over his features. "He and I are friends, Relief. He may be happy for us. He may have something to say, such as 'congratulations.'" "I doubt it, Lord Cheltham. You have no right to do this to me." She turned aside to spurn him, her lips tight, her eyes burning with angry tears. "Relief, oh Relief," he sighed. "I will not ... be your husband, in the physical sense until you agree." He put his fingertips under her chin and directed her gaze onto his face. "But darling, I know you love me. I know you want to be with me. You refuse my protection. The long and the short of it is that I have no choice. I must protect you." He dropped his hand, took hers in his and stroked her hand with his. She tried to pull from his grasp but with no success. "You do not do this for me. You do this selfishly because you want me." She thought of her skill, and then inhaled sharply. This would never have happened if I didn't want it too, deep down. She quickly shook off any signs of this epiphany. He obviously missed it. "I do want you, Relief. But one can not wonder that I want you safe. You will not allow me to keep you so. I must be your husband to have this power." "I used to dream of marrying for other reasons. Not to be under a man's power." "Relief, even if you were in no immediate danger, and I was not so afraid for you, I would still go crazy with wanting to be your husband. I was entranced from the first moment I 250

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saw you in New York. Sometimes I feel ill, and sometimes I feel light and alive. I grow cold all over, and then I'm burning up with fever. I find myself up all night thinking about you. I am so in love with you. You, my dear, are the one who has power over me." He bowed over her hand with reverence, as if she were his queen. He took her hand, flipped it over and placed a soft kiss on her wrist. The touch of his lips on her bare flesh drew that terrible sharp desire from her again. She covered it with a scoff and tore her hand away. She turned, and without looking back, she pushed her front door open. "I will come to take you for a drive on the morrow, sweet love," he announced, in a tone of dominance. She slammed the door behind herself. **** In the morning Honora and Relief were shopping in a charming little linen-draper's shop on Bond Street. It was early, so the typical crowds of women were not yet walking about the counters. The sisters were browsing, looking at the folds of different materials and in particular, the muslins in a rainbow of colors. Relief was admiring two sky blue shades and held them one up against the other. A smiling, middleaged woman with gray streaks in her hair approached her. "Miss, the first one you hold is azure and the second clarence. Which do you prefer?" Honora chimed in. "The Barbel enjoys popularity right now." 251

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"You ladies prefer blue?" "Yes," they said together. "This muslin..." Relief admired the material. "It is alliballi, Indian muslin." "I like it." The merchant smiled. "I have others." "I would love to see them." Suddenly they heard an interesting conversation. Two young women about Relief's age, accompanied by a footman clothed in various colors, chatted while looking at a nice Pomona sea green batiste, a dressed cotton muslin. Honora tapped her sister on the shoulder. "Sister, a knight of the rainbow!" Honora giggled tipping her head toward the brightly dressed footman. Relief smirked. The red-haired lady wore a Devonshire brown gown, and her blonde friend, wore a violet dress. The blonde sighed in admiration. They did not have a clear view of Honora and Relief. "Have you heard?" she said dreamily. "Lord Cheltham is to be married." The red-haired lady touched her chest. "No! What a shame. Are you quite certain, Catherine?" "Yes, Cassandra, I was with my father at the jewelers shopping for an anniversary gift for my mother. He walked in, on a cloud, I tell you. He practically danced into the shop, dreamy-eyed. 'I'm so happy!' he said exuberantly. My father and I laughed and inquired the reason for his high cheer. He 252

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told us he is to marry Miss Relief Moore, the American heiress." "Miss Moore, really?" "Yes. The Viscount is entirely in love with her." They both sighed. "That's so romantic. I do hope that my future husband will prance around that way, smiling, anxiously anticipating the exchange of our vows." "If we lived a few hundred years ago, he would be slaying dragons for her. I told him so, and he agreed." They both sighed again and left the shop. Honora picked up the cloth that Relief had dropped and waved it in front of her face. "Hello, hello, you, up there in the heavens, what is the latest news from the saints? Hello?" Relief shook her head. "Uh, I'm sorry Honora. I was just imagining Lord Cheltham in a suit of armor holding a sword." Honora chuckled. "He would be a dashing figure. He is now. We'd better get back. He will be arriving soon to take you riding." "I suppose so," she said, as conflicting emotions tore through her. Defiance was at the forefront, but in the back of her mind, unbelievable joy tried to poke out, failing. "We should leave London." "He would hunt me down, and I would be running from two men." Relief absentmindedly fingered red velvet on a table before her. "No," she sighed. "I have decided that it will be best to just stay here and face my situation." She shoved aside the velvet and made her way for the front door of the shop. 253

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Honora chased after her. "Relief, you are imagining him in his wedding suit, in your chambers, kissing you passionately, are you not? You are imagining yourself falling, falling, falling down a large black hole, forever lost in the feelings you have for him." Relief said nothing. Tears made her eyes sting. Then at last she muttered, "Yes. But I will not live long enough to feel the unhindered bliss of the fulfillment of my feelings for him. And if I do, it won't matter because if I somehow survive my would-be killer, my love for my husband will fade under the resentment of his taking away half of my identity." Honora said nothing else on the way home. Relief knew she had stunned the poor girl with empathy for her situation. **** The sisters were discussing the weather in the front parlor when the Viscount arrived. Honora mumbled under her breath. "Leafy, he's so handsome." Relief grinned wickedly. "Do you want him?" Honora raised her brow. "Ah, what did my charming sister-to-be mutter this time, beloved?" Lord Cheltham took a step in her direction. His lips turned up into an infectious smile. Relief could not help but to curve the corner of her lips up, too. "She said that you are devilishly handsome!" Honora smacked her arm. "Ow!" He chuckled. 254

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"She said that she wants you, my lord, so I am informing you of a change of brides." He laughed harder now and walked up to Relief with his arms extended. When he was before her, he touched her shoulders and gave her a deeply endearing look. "Oh, my darling, I prefer brunettes." "Miss lavender dress was not a brunette." He chuckled again. "She was also my second choice, by a long way. You're jealous!" "I am not!" He pulled her into a passionate kiss. She moaned, drowning in desire, fully against her will. He pulled away, still grasping her arms, and grinning like a devil. He touched Relief's chin with his fingertips. "Your eyes are wide, sweet. Why are you surprised?" "You're a nobleman, but you are acting like a wild American." He placed the back of his fingers against her cheek. "Blame the time I spent there. Blame Raphael for reminding me." She pursed her lips, trying to suppress a smile, but mirth overcame her. Damn you are handsome and charming. Images of him laughing exuberantly on the streets with her dressed as Raphael, after taking out a criminal, rushed her mind. Oh, how they had celebrated! Drinking and laughing, singing and celebrating life together. God, I love you, Benjamin. She flushed from sudden need. 255

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"The way you respond to me, Relief, I greatly anticipate the day you make my most wicked fantasies come true." "That will never happen." Her body cooled. He smiled widely. "No matter. I still want to marry you." "Without love-making?" "You two have no shame. You stop at nothing to achieve your ends. Your future will be filled with heroic escapades. I can only imagine—" Honora walked out of the room, blushing. Grinning, he eyed Relief mischievously. "Even without love-making, Relief, I still want you. I want to dance with you at our fiftieth wedding anniversary even if you are still a maiden and not a deeply satisfied lusty wench who tears my clothes off whenever I dare to enter the same room she's in." "You're mad." He shook his head slowly. "No, just quite in love." "I may call on you to prove it." "What do you have in mind, Relief?" "I will let you know." "I will prove true love to you." "You will prove just the opposite." He frowned. "Come with me." He reached a hand to escort her. She lifted her chin and walked out the door, past him. He darted ahead, out to the front entrance, and held the door open for her. She exited without looking at him. She saw Honora sitting in the carriage and leapt into the Viscount's vehicle like a boy, like Raphael, one hand on the seat, body following, and then burned with regret at it. He 256

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had the grace not to mention her unladylike motion but instead gave her his insufferable smile. "Ladies, we are going to go for a scenic ride, to enjoy the air." They said nothing. Before they knew it, the three of them were traveling around on a ride in the country, and he turned to her. "Relief, I do not want to lose Raphael's friendship. Tell the lad to meet me in town tonight." "Oh, he will be there. You two are to compete against each other." "I do not want you there. It's dangerous. I want you home under protection." "As you wish, my lord." He raised his brows high. "Compliance?" "Do not get used to it." He grinned. "My family will be here from New York soon. They are due to visit. My brother will soon join us as well. He had to leave on business again." "I will be very happy to make their acquaintance. They can join us for my sister's wedding. She has been in the country with our parents." "I will beg my father not to allow our wedding, my lord."

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Sixteen They rode east, past London then over gently undulating terrain. Relief and her sister studied the countryside. Relief's heart found comfort in the patches of ancient woodland, the far-away church towers, the farmhouses, and the clear blue sky. New York and London buzzed with activity, but this was peaceful. She settled into a quiet afternoon, and even felt a little grateful for the opportunity to see such ancient and quaint beauty. "Relief." She turned to face him at the sound of his voice. He gazed sadly into her eyes. "Your eyes are the color of the sky," he stated simply. The sky is so beautiful, she thought. He sighed before looking away, watching the passing landscape. "Your words alarmed me. During this ride, I have thought of how I would handle this. I will convince your father otherwise. I will win him over and assure him that I will be a most loving husband who will protect you with my life." "What are you going to do about your sister?" Relief asked annoyed, wishing to discuss something else. He returned his attention to her face. "Has Raphael informed you fully of the situation?" "Of course." He rubbed his face. "It is somewhat tricky having to protect two women at once." "Then protect her, not me." She sat back. 258

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"You come first, always, Relief." The poor little girl cannot protect herself. I can. "You owe her. You do not owe me." She glanced at Honora, who turned her head, nodded in agreement, and then looked back out the window with a contemplative expression. "What a lovely cottage," Honora said and pointed outside. Relief returned her gaze to Lord Cheltham. "I said it was tricky, but not impossible." He bent over; his arms perched on his thighs, and clasped his hands together. "What are you going to do?" She raised a brow. "I can not let her go with strangers." He unlaced his hands and opened his palms for emphasis, his brow creased with unease. "You promised her." "I do not trust them, even if they may be her natural family." "So you are going to force another woman to marry a man she does not wish to be wed to?" Anger stuck in her throat, choking her. "Relief—" "Release me, Lord Cheltham." The chilly words came out low and evenly. "Oh, Relief, why?" He pressed a hot hand to her forearm. "Don't you want to be with me? Look into my eyes and deny it." She stared at him, ready to shout it. Something held her back from saying the words. He smiled. 259

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**** That evening a rowdy crowd had gathered for the fight in the merchant's basement. Raphael was to face off against the newcomer, Mr. Wright. Money exchanged hands. Lord Cheltham bowed slightly in greeting to his opponent. "Raph, my friend, take no offense when I wipe the floor with you!" he said cheerfully. "You will be the one being wiped on the floor, Mr. Wright," Relief said, in her vilest male tone. Several people raised their brows at the sound of that. She stood in a relaxed position, only moving when Lord Cheltham did. She swayed forward, arms coming up, hands formed into claws, like a tiger. With fluid motions, she dodged Lord Cheltham's fists and snapped her hand. Lord Cheltham surprised her and ducked the maneuver. "Good move, Cheltham." He smiled. "You taught me that!" She went at him again, this time knocking him to the floor with a flat-handed strike to the chest, knocking the wind out of him. One inch to the left, and just a little harder, and he'd have been dead. He lay on the floor, gasping. "You'll be all right in sixty seconds," she offered amongst several concerned comments. Relief looked down into his face. His temporary agony struck her at heart. He gulped for air, eyes panic-stricken. Tender love washed over her, and she wanted to fall to her knees, cup his head in her lap, and stroke his brow in comfort. She didn't move. He sighed, and closed his eyes, 260

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recovered. The great signs of relief on his face made her sigh with joy. She imagined herself as Relief in her silky chemise with her hair falling to the side as she slowly lowered her head and put her lips to his as he lay on their wedding bed. The candlelight would be flickering, allowing her to see the passion that she inspired in him in his eyes. How she loved his smiling eyes. What would those wicked fantasies he mentioned earlier entail anyway? His hand would slowly skim up her thigh, and she would breathe out, audibly. He would roll her over and press his body into hers. She would feel his heat physically, and then his love emotionally. She sighed audibly. Lord Cheltham used this moment to overcome her. He grabbed her arm, flipped her over and jumped up. When Relief pulled herself up, blinking in surprise, still reeling in lust, he punched her hard in the gut. She doubled over. If only he knew he had just hit his fiancée. He would be appalled. She smiled. Lord Cheltham snatched the opportunity and punched her in the face, knocking her out cold. Her eyes fluttered open. He was above her saying, "Raphael, what has overcome you lately? You are a far better fighter than me." She glanced around. The room had emptied, except for a few stranglers. He held a small statue in his hand—first place. He had beaten the best fighter there that day. When she had knocked him to the ground, he had been conscious, after all. "You won fairly, Mr. Wright," she said. 261

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Lord Cheltham crouched and offered his free hand. Shaky, she took it, and allowed him to help her to a seated position. "Something is amiss." He sat on the cold floor, next to her, his legs bent, and one arm resting over a knee. "My mind is on other matters." "Raphael, I concede." She stood up abruptly, rubbing her jaw. Makeup would cover up a forming bruise nicely. "You cannot do that!" This is the real world, not some gentleman's club. He knocked me out. He won-period. It doesn't matter how. Out there, if I lie unconscious on the street, I would be a big loser indeed. He jumped up as well. "I can do it. You are the better fighter." "Do not do this to impress Relief!" "I do not. I am an honest man," he said calmly. "You can fight." She grabbed his forearm. "I know. You can fight better, Raphael." "Where did your arrogance go?" She lowered her hand to her side. "I lost it when I lost my heart. Well maybe not right away." He grinned. "I lost it when she fell in love with me. When she came to me, I was ... humbled, knocked off my high-horse." A faraway look crossed his eyes. "Not overcome with pride at having won her affections?" "No. I was shocked that I could be so fortunate." "I see." Love squeezed her heart and wouldn't let go. "Besides, Raphael, to change the subject, before the fight, I convinced the judges that the loser of this fight would be 262

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the one to go against the stranger from Asia. I assumed it would probably be me, even though I would give an honest fight." "Are you mad?" "Apparently, according to Relief." "He will kill you!" She bent over, strangled with fear and heartache so bad she stumbled. She saw him lying in a coffin, and the idea shook her senseless. "Raphael?" He touched her shoulder. She took a big gulp of air, held out her hand and stood up. "I am inclined to disagree, lad. I have plenty of motivation to win this." "Do not try to protect me too, Cheltham!" Good God, I will not let that monster near you! I have years of Asian fighting experience. You have months. "I am not trying to protect you! He shot my woman. It is my right, Raphael. I know what he did to her in Asia. He ... he put his dirty hands around her neck. It is my right." He went tight as a bow. Her stomach churned with terror for him. "I need air. Go home, Cheltham and give me some space." I need to figure something out and fast. He gazed at her with suspicion and strode across the room and out the door. **** When the Moore family stepped into the entrance hall of Honora and Relief's home, Lord Cheltham was there, by his intended's side, and Mrs. Miller watched from a few feet 263

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behind. Relief's parents and two older brothers greeted them with great warmth. Hugs and kisses were exchanged. The eldest Mr. Moore, a tall, handsome dark-haired man, broke out into something Italian and Relief joined him in song. Everyone in the room smiled, including the bodyguard who had more of a smirk on his face. Mr. Moore placed his arm around his daughter's shoulders as they sang. When they finished, everyone cheered and applauded. "Ah, my beloved Relief, that was beautiful!" Lord Cheltham said. He had been leaning against the hearth mantel with his arms crossed over his chest. He lowered them and clapped. Mr. Moore looked him over carefully. "We have been singing together since she was two. She was the one with talent, I dare say. You are a finely dressed fellow. Whom might you be, gracing the home of my beautiful daughters?" "Father, this is his lordship, Lord Cheltham, a Viscount. Or in America, he would be known as Mr. Benjamin Wright." "They don't all use their surnames in their titles, Daddy," Honora stated. He graced her with a loving look. "I know, my dear." Relief faced Lord Cheltham now. "My lord, may I present my father Theodore Moore, my mother, Esther Moore, and my two brothers, Daniel and Raphael Moore." Lord Cheltham threw her a deeply confused look. She gave him a warning glance, begging him to ask later. He took in a long breath and held his hand out to Mr. Moore. "My pleasure, sir. I am to be married to your daughter, Relief, very shortly, that is, with your permission, of course." 264

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Mr. Moore raised his brows. "You're a Viscount?" He looked over at Relief. "I never expected that you would fall for a stuffy nobleman, my dear Leafy." "He is not stuffy, Father. He is actually a talented fighter," Honora chimed in. "Oh really? Leafy, my sweet, I have one question before I give you my blessing." "Father?" She looked at him with the greatest of respect warming her heart. "Do you love him?" He looked at her intently. Relief returned the earnestness in his gaze, and her eyes stung with tears. She couldn't lie. She practically whispered. "Yes, there can be no doubt." "Then as long as he checks out, you have my blessing. Congratulations!" he exclaimed. Lord Cheltham's face lit up. His countenance brightened the room. He touched his chest and lightly bowed. "I am deeply honored, sir. I assure you, your daughter has my lasting devotion. I will love her and protect her with my dying breath." "Well, well, well, it seems you chose wisely, my little Leafy. I am very pleased. You, my sweet, need a strong man." Leafy felt the sting of her tears but fought them. Leafy's mother pulled her into an embrace. "Oh, Leafy, I am pleased for you! He is so handsome, and charming! Surely you are thrilled!" Relief trembled in her mother's arms. Her brothers shook Lord Cheltham's hand. 265

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The muscular Raphael Moore spoke up. "Hurt her, and I will kill you." Lord Cheltham smiled. "I would expect no less." "That goes for me as well," Daniel, taller, but thinner, said seriously. Lord Cheltham nodded his acknowledgement to Daniel. After dinner, Mr. Moore, Daniel and Raphael were enjoying cigars and after dinner drinks with Lord Cheltham. The women were at the far end of the room, chatting. Relief couldn't help but to often glance over at her future groom. Esther, a short, blond woman looked at her daughter with a proud smile. "We have missed you girls. We would be with you here, but—" "It is quite all right, Mother. We understand that you have a business to run." "You are about to become a noblewoman, Leafy." "I do not care." "It is love," Esther said. "There is something dashed heroic about him, Leafy." "Yes." She almost spilled out her concerns to her mother, but she couldn't. Not without worrying her to no end. The evening went well. The girls saw their family members to their rooms for the evening. Relief saw Lord Cheltham to the front door. The house was quiet, so she kept her voice low. "Good evening, my lord."

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"Relief," he said and looked at her tenderly. "Your family is quite charming. I have questions, though. I was a good deal surprised to discover the names of your brothers." "Thank you for not saying anything earlier." "Of course, my love. I need hardly tell you that I am your protector. And that includes protecting your secrets." She gave him a tender look. "My lord—" "Benjamin, call me Benjamin, or 'my love'." He smiled. "Americans use first names, do they not?" "Benjamin, the night you were drunk, that was not Daniel of course. It was ... someone else." "I gathered that much." "Raphael—" "Yes, kindly explain that to me. Who the devil is my best friend?" "Benjamin, if you will agree to permit me a pass on that question this evening, I will give you a gift." "Oh?" The intrigue was apparent in his voice. "Yes." "What would that be, owner of my heart?" "A kiss." He smiled. "Number four." "Yes, number four." She touched his chest softly and leaned to place her lips on his. When she was a breath away, he closed his eyes and stood stiff. "Leafy," he breathed out. She parted her lips and kissed him. His warm lips opened and love rushed her. She wanted this, in her heart. She lingered over the kiss, wanting to taste him more deeply, but 267

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she kept it simple. When she pulled away, his eyes remained closed and his lips parted. "Oh God, Relief, I fancy this is going to be a trifle harder than I had anticipated." "For me, too." His eyes snapped open. A slow grin spread across his face. "I am going to slay a dragon for you. I am going to be your romantic knight. I can change your mind, Relief. You may not need a rescuer, but you will want one." "Benjamin?" "Yes?" he said. "You are fog-brained." "Perhaps," he said then chuckled. "Benjamin?" "Yes, darling?" "I am fond of you." "Ah, what wonderful words, my lovely American." "Benjamin?" He chuckled again and touched her forearm. "Yes?" "Your friend stole the diamond." His smile turned immediately into a firm line. "He had to have done this when your uncle was at an auction in New York with his personal stash. I am deeply disappointed. Lord Whittingham didn't need the money." "It is one of the world's loveliest diamonds, featured in catalogs." "Whittingham loves beautiful things," he said. "You know what this means." "Yes." He frowned intently. 268

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"He was the one who harassed me. He is the reason I came to London." "I suppose I should be grateful for that, except for what he did to you and your family." "My lord, he either used my sister to get to me and still has designs on me, or he decided that if he couldn't have me, he would have my sister." "If he ever goes near you or your sister again, I will call him out." "We should turn him in for theft. We can now prove ownership of the diamond finally in our possession. I have the papers at last. My father brought them." "We cannot prove that he ever had the diamond, but he doesn't know that. He has left town." "What?" "He has packed up and left." "Oh." "Beloved, on the morrow I will call on you, if you will have me." "I will have you, Benjamin." "You make me so happy, Relief. When you are my wife, I am going to spend my time making your life a dream." "There's nothing I would want more, but I can't." "Why, Relief, pray tell me, why?" He placed the back of his fingers against her cheek. "I will never tell you. It would mean my death." He scowled so deeply that she was taken aback. "Nothing could exceed my desire to discover the truth." His tipped an imaginary hat to her and left. 269

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Seventeen The Viscount paced the floor of a darkly masculine drawing room, hands fisted. "Father, you must stop my sister's wedding!" The earl, whom the Viscount strongly resembled, stood watching his son, scowling at him. "I will not! Do not ask me again!" Lord Cheltham stopped and turned to face his cold father. He parted his lips but didn't speak. "Out with it, boy!" "Father, will the day arrive that you cease to hold me in contempt?" The earl scoffed. "Will the day arrive when I look at you and don't feel the sting of disappointment?" The Viscount squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply. "I can never atone for what I did." He opened his eyes. "But Father, it was not intended. I love Joan." "You should have stayed in America, out of my sight. Why, you no longer even act English, but have rather adopted the mannerisms of those heathens. To my dismay, you are my first born son and therefore, my heir. If not, I would have preferred you had not returned." The Viscount swallowed a wave of dismay. "I'm sorry for that, too." "Indeed. At least you are going to marry a wealthy woman." 270

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He considered his father a long, careful moment, suffering his reproving gaze without flinching. "I'd marry her if she were a pauper." He scoffed at his son. "You disgust me. I won't be at your wedding!" He departed the room in long icy strides. Lord Cheltham watched him, assailed with terrible sadness. Despite himself, he loved his father, and this rejection left him wretched. **** The Moore family found themselves one morning sitting with Lord Cheltham in a church waiting to see the wedding of Lady Joan Wright to her intended. Lord Cheltham turned uneasy eyes toward Relief and whispered. "I'm going to stop this. She does not want to be married to this man. She wants to escape the country with her originally family, with whom she has exchanged secret letters." Respect surged through Relief to her bones. "You want her happiness." "Yes. She wants to be with her family." "Benjamin," she whispered. "You will miss her terribly." "Yes. How will I know she will be well?" "I know protectors for hire." The Viscount's brow rose in surprise. Relief grinned. "I have hired one to follow Joan to her new destination. He will report back to us and shield her from harm if necessary."

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He leaned back and gave her a long look. "I am going to step around the back of the building. In five minutes, meet me there." She nodded. He stood up and walked out, casually. Minutes later, she went the other way and met him in a quiet spot out back. "What were you planning, Benjamin?" "To take her from this church and go with her to her new country so I can assure myself that she is in good hands before I leave her presence." "What?" "Yes, Relief." "You would miss your own wedding, my lord? It draws near." "I am afraid I would have had to postpone it until I was sure of her safety. I would leave you heavily guarded in my absence. I thought you would appreciate the reprieve anyway," he added with sad tones. Sweet love made her glow with tenderness, and she leaned and gave him a kiss as if a feather had brushed against his lips. He raised his fingers to his mouth and touched his lip. "Number five." She frowned, realizing her mistake and dropped her gaze. He lifted her chin with the crook of one finger. "Sweet love, look at your soon-to-be husband." She raised her eyes to his. "I will make you happy, Relief." "I know," she muttered. "And then I will be dead." 272

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Great anxiety came to his storm cloud eyes. "Relief—" They were interrupted by the sound of a carriage rushing away, horses' hooves hammering the ground. They ran around the building and saw Joan smiling grandly, next to a dark, foreign-looking couple. Joan waved cheerfully. "I love you, Benjamin!" she shouted. "Be happy, brother, and marry your American! Do not come after me!" She was outright gleeful. He darted after her. "Benjamin!" He stopped running. "Let her go." "Relief—" "Let her escape, Benjamin. Do not worry, my love. She is being followed. I hired the best." At that moment, it seemed as if the sun had started shining on his face for the first time in his life. "Did you just call me, 'my love'?" "Er ... yes." He went to her and pulled her into an ardent kiss. She moaned. He kissed her deeper. The gentle caress of his tongue against hers sent coils of yearning rushing through her. He pulled away and trailed slow kisses along her neck, holding the sides of her head between his hands. Her pulse pounded. She grabbed his hair tightly between her fingertips. "Stop, stop, I beg you!" she managed to say, breathing quickly. He dropped his hands and walked away stiffly, and quickly. She stared after him, trembling with need, burning with love. 273

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That night, he dined with her family. When once again she accompanied him to her front door, he asked her about Raphael. "Benjamin, I will give you another gift if you do not insist upon an answer this night." He smiled. "Would it be kiss number six?" He leaned closer to her. She didn't trust herself this time and pushed on his chest lightly. "No." "Then what?" His lips were curved up at one corner. "This." She opened her little silk reticule and pulled out a dark ring. She grabbed his hand, flipped it over, and placed the gift in his palm. He picked it up with his other hand, stroking it gently. "Relief, it is made out of hair. Your hair?" "Yes." A soft glow fell over his features. "Thank you." He slid it over his pinky. "You honor me. When we are dancing at the celebration of our fiftieth wedding anniversary, it will be upon my finger." She blinked, not expecting the lurch of almost painful love her heart just made. She then closed her eyes. She felt the soft touch of his lips upon hers and heard her front door open and close. She stood alone in her entrance hall that seemed suddenly cold, large and empty without him. Her heart was throbbing with an ominous ache of foreboding. ****

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The following day he joined the family for dinner. She stole glances at him throughout the meal across the silver and fine china and crystal that designed the table. Fearful images of either of them going up against her old teacher's killer destroyed her appetite, and she picked at her food. She kept seeing either his death or hers. After the food was removed from the table, she expected he would remain for wine and conversation with the male members of her family. She excused herself to join her mother and sister in the salon and nearly passed the Viscount, when he stayed her with a gentle hand and stood up. "My dear, might I have a private word with you?" She nodded gravely. Honora rushed to her and whispered into her ear. "Before dinner, I slipped it under your pillow, just to give you an extra sense of security." "I don't like those things, Nora," she muttered. Honora turned and followed her mother into the parlor. The Viscount thanked the members of her family for a charming dinner, took Relief by the arm, and led her to a small room connected to the other side of the dining room. She watched him as he considered her with concerned eyes. At length, he spoke. "If I see a black, hooded cloak, I will blow a hole right through it. It will be very much the worse for him to come anywhere near you." She gasped. 275

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He reached a hand and grasped hers. "Relief, I saw the worry in your face all throughout dinner, and I know what troubles you." "But—" He held up a hand. "There are no 'buts' about it." She sighed and nodded. He was determined. "It's unfortunate for him that he clothes himself in that ostentatious garment. He's dramatic to be sure." The Viscount continued as if she had not said a word. "Better yet, I will do it with my own hands at the fighting competition. He's mine, Relief." "I want the pleasure." "Never going to happen." "You would steal my pleasure from me?" "Oh, I will more than make up for it, over and over again." He grinned mischievously. She shivered. He pressed her into a hot kiss that made her knees buckle. "Benjamin," she sighed and pulled him down onto a firm, narrow couch. She lay back, and he leaned over her, his gaze intense. She touched his face with a quivering, tentative touch. He brushed soft kisses behind her ear, down her neck, across her shoulders, whispering his love with every touch of his lips. Her heart thundered against her chest, his closeness bracing. She reached and untied the ribbon that held his hair into a queue. He smiled, and she laced her fingers through his hair, gripping, and pulling him into the kind of kiss she had 276

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witnessed many times between ardent couples making love on the backstreets. He pressed into her, moaning, then stopped suddenly and backed away, grinning like a devil and touching her nose playfully. "Number six. You're six away from my wickedest fantasies, woman. I am going to ravish you senseless." He reached for the fallen ribbon, raked his fingers through his hair, stood up, and tied his locks back as they were. Her blood surging through her veins, she inhaled to recapture her breath and spoke with sad regret as she stood up, tall, determined. "N-n-n ... no. I can never let that happen." He knit his brows together pressing against her and breathed into her ear. "Do you realize how intense will be your satisfaction at my hands? Do you have any idea whatsoever what I am going to make you feel?" She trembled. "I ... I ... imagine great physical pleasure." "I was talking about your heart, Relief," he said in a hushed voice. She swallowed hard. He touched her shoulder and squeezed it in affirmation. "Believe in me, my love. Believe in us." **** The following evening, Relief was in her chambers alone, undressing for bed when she was attacked from behind. Dropping her body, she spun around and shoved her palm with concentrated power into her opponent's gut, not wanting 277

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to kill him, but only render him stunned. He growled and went to her and returned the same type of hit. She fell back, dazed. Her assailant pressed her against the wall by her bed. Her head hit the wall, making her light-headed. He knees nearly gave out. She slid down the wall a few inches. He grabbed her neck and squeezed to hold her in place, but not hard enough to kill her. She could still manage tiny gasps of air. "This brings back memories." He loosened his grip a tiny bit, but she didn't move. Her hands pressed against the wall behind her. She blinked back the sting of tears, recalling the dear old man who had taught her to be a world-class fighter, the man who had believed in her ability and promise-despite her gender. She missed him, and his gentle wisdom. "All I need to defeat you is a wall! You are too skilled for a woman. You never should have been taught this ancient art. That old man had to be punished for such a crime." She shuddered with hatred, looking up into this murderer's dark, merciless eyes. "Now I will rid the world of this embarrassment." At first, this drew a pause from her. Perhaps you are right. I am a woman. What right do I have to practice this art? Then the faces of all the people of the streets she had saved washed over her mind. No, it's right that I do what I do. People count on me. "I hope I have sufficiently tormented you over the past year?" 278

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It wasn't her life she saw flash before her eyes. It was her love. She imagined her family finding her cold, dead body lying on the floor. She imagined Lord Cheltham's terrible reaction to the news, and it broke her heart. He would go crazy. The thought of never seeing him again brought tears to her eyes. Then the flickering light of the candle caused her to look at her pillow. Her pistol. Honora had placed it under her pillow as an extra precaution. She had been somewhat secretive about how she attained it after the shooting, but Relief had suspected that she borrowed it. Her sister was way too clever a girl at times. Relief reached her hand out in a flash and slid it over the cool sheets, under the pillow. She thanked God silently when her fingers found the cold metal. She gripped the weapon and swung her hand around, pressing the tip of the pistol into her attacker's abdomen. He looked down at it and grinned. "Are you going to shoot me?" "I have no choice." "I will give you one." "What?" "I have a partner, Relief. If I do not report back to him tonight, my partner will go after your fiancé and kill him within an hour." Shivering, she met his gaze straight-on. Underneath the black hooded cape that he always wore, mocking eyes stared at her. His pale face was framed with short black hair, his features Chinese. 279

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"I hate you, Relief, even more than I hated your teacher. And you had the audacity to survive the shooting, so now I will play with you. Fight me again, in front of your fiancé, in or out of your disguise. If you want your Viscount to live, you will perish at my hands when we fight. I crave feeling the life drain from you underneath my grip, but you are a far better fighter than I ever imagined. You have the possibility of—" She gulped, knowing what she had to do. "I find myself enjoying the thought of killing you in front of your intended. It adds to the drama," he said in cheerful tones. "You're insane. You're always so happy before killing. You smiled when you killed my fighting master. You make me sick." He smirked. "So, you can spill my blood all over your floor now. You do not want to do that, do you, Relief? You hate the thought of that, after what you saw. Do you want the Viscount dead?" Tears ran down her cheeks. "No. Swear on your honor that you will let him live if I give you my life." "On the honor of the ancient art that we both practice. He will likely attack me. I will just knock him senseless and then leave the country. After all, he means nothing to me, except in regards of how I can use him to finish you off." She nodded slowly. "Consider how romantic it will be as you die for him. Ha! At least I will allow you to be looking into his face as you take 280

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your last breath. That manner of demonstrating true love is not likely to befall you again." She lifted the gun and gestured toward the door. "Not without your leave." "Go," she breathed out, devastated. He ran from her sight, and saluted her, this time with respect, as a colleague with the same level of skill he had. She closed her eyes and slid down the wall, sobbing silently. The Viscount called upon her that morning greeting her warmly. "My true love, our wedding day approaches." Then he frowned. "Oh my God, Relief, you've been crying!" He went to touch her cheek. She muttered somewhat incoherently, "Raphael, Mr. Taylor, was able to ward him off." "What?" he snapped. "Dear God, Relief, what happened? He attacked you again!" He grabbed her arms. She looked into the distance at an indistinct mark. "Relief!" "I ... er ... I..." He pulled her into a hug. "Oh my darling, you look terrified. Oh, my darling Relief!" He squeezed her. "I'm staying in your guest house." "That would not be appropriate." "I will do so secretly, not openly." She nodded, numbly. "Raphael has to fight him." "No."

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"Yes. I will tell Raphael to keep him alive so that you can fight him next if that will suit your pleasure. Do not fear for Raphy. It will be fine." Late that night, she slowly prepared for bed, looking around the dimly lit room often. She lay down and closed her eyes. She heard a noise, reached for her pistol and found herself holding it into the gut of her fiancé. She let out a deep breath. "Benjamin, what are you doing here? This is scandalous." She lowered the gun, frowning, surprised to hear herself say that considering that she had already tried to seduce him a couple of times. He chose not to acknowledge her past slip of conduct by reminding her of that. "I am not here to seduce you, as badly as I want to be in your bed, giving you the pleasure that I promise you will receive at my hands." "You are here to look over me." "Yes." "Every night then?" "Yes." "This is not appropriate." "We will be man and wife very soon," he beamed, obviously remembering her in her silky chemise trying to convince him to make love to her. She nodded in resignation and lay back with the gun in her hand. He lay down next to her and draped his arm around her body. After several quiet moments, her eyes were closed; she was resting peacefully. In fact, she felt much safer with him 282

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there, and he must have felt the tension leave her body. It would have warmed his heart. He whispered into her ear. "I love you so much, Relief." In the morning, she woke first. She stared into his face and whispered, "I love you, Benjamin." His eyes popped open. He sat up straight and looked at her. "I have experienced this before." She looked down and blushed. "That is not possible. We have never slept side-by-side before. I have never woken up next to you before." He gave her a long, scrutinizing look. "What are you pondering, Benjamin?" "Nothing. Nothing at all." A shiver of worry coursed her body.

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Eighteen The day was beautiful-sunny, with the bluest of skies. They stood before the altar. She pressed one hand to her side, over the material of her stunning silver wedding gown, to still her trembling. He was so striking in his embroidered silk and satin suit, white with silver lining, that her breath caught. And her love for him-it was agony. Her rational mind protested her situation, while her heart screamed with joy. It was doing back-flips. She literally imagined herself dressed as Raphael running and jumping through the air, cheering and laughing with joy. A giggle spilled from her lips. She placed her fingertips over them, and then let her hand fall back to her side. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God..." the minister began. Lord Cheltham smiled, and Relief's throat constricted as she tried to swallow her tears. It's really happening, she thought. "Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife..." She felt as if she would swoon. He was looking at her in a way to release her heart and soul. "I will," he swore. His subdued words were laced with the promise that he would undertake any journey to the top of any mountain or to the bottom of any sea to be her hero. 284

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"Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband ... so long as ye both shall live?" "Oh my God, yes." Several people burst into soft laughter. His face shone with joy. "Er, I mean, I will." An expression of delight colored his expression. "Who giveth this woman..." Relief's father handed her over to her groom. Lord Cheltham took her right hand in his. "I, Benjamin Wright, Lord Cheltham, take thee Relief Moore to my wedded wife..." They let go. She took his hand now and spoke after the minister. "I, Relief Moore, take thee Benjamin Wright, Lord Cheltham, to my wedded husband..." He took out a ring and placed it on the holy book in the minister's hand. The minister picked it up and gave it back to him. He gently took Relief's hand and slid the ring on her finger as he spoke. "With this ring I thee wed..." She looked into his eyes and saw moistness gleaming in them. It put her over the edge. Tears poured from her eyes. "Oh Benjamin," she whispered. They kneeled down to pray together. The minister then joined their hands together. "I pronounce you man and wife." Relief closed her eyes, feeling very near to fainting. Yes, she thought. This is worth an early death. 285

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The minister gave them a blessing and read out of the bible. They received Holy Communion. Benjamin looked into her eyes for an extended moment, speechless, but she knew exactly what he was thinking because she was thinking it, too. She would die for him. In fact, she was going to. Honora approached them with a huge smile on her face. "Now I will not get my ten thousand guineas." She shrugged. "Oh well, I will just have to find my personal wealth elsewhere," She giggled. Relief looked at her sister with perplexity. Lord Cheltham laughed. "My darling wife, when you were recuperating, your sister was hesitant to bring me to you. I swore to her that she could because I was going to be your husband. My heart shouted it. She hesitated still. I was so sure of our future nuptials that I promised her ten thousand guineas if you were not my wife within one year." He leaned and whispered. "I might have had to steal it." He pulled away and winked at her. She turned to Honora. "And you didn't try everything in your power to break us apart? Do you know how much money that is?" She laughed, and they joined her. Now she looked into her husband's face. "This is the happiest and the scariest day of my life. No adequate words with which to describe my heart bestow themselves upon my lips. Will you remember it when you are dancing on your fiftieth wedding anniversary with your second wife?" "What?" he spat out. "What on God's green earth are you talking about, Relief?" There was franticness to his tone. 286

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"I won't live to see our first." He went stiff as a board. "I forbid you to ever say those words again. Do you comprehend me, Relief? Have no doubt that I am going to end your fears once and for all." He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. "The wedding breakfast, my lord." "Honora, make our apologies. I have some serious business to take care of immediately." Honora nodded slowly and solemnly. Lord Cheltham pulled his wife behind him as he hurried out of the church. Her family tried to approach them, yelling out to them. Raphael shouted cheerfully, "You cannot wait for tonight, my lord?" Raphael's smile melted as they passed him with grim expressions on their faces. He stepped in front of them firmly, stopping them. They very nearly smashed into him. He stood like a brick wall, his arms crossed in front of him. "Mr. Moore, kindly allow me to take my wife. We have urgent business." "You are going nowhere with her until I know what this is all about." Relief smiled warmly at her brother. It was a gesture of love. He gave her a quick look. "Leafy." "Sir, she is my wife. I am within the bounds of my rights." Raphael rolled his eyes. "You have a sister, sir. You would protect her with your life?" "Yes." "My situation stands the same." "I am not leaving to do her harm!" 287

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"You do not leave here glowing with the happiness of a new groom. Your expression betrays your outrage. You will not be permitted to leave here dragging my sister in your anger." "I am her husband, damn it!" "Not fully yet, or are you?" He turned and looked at Relief. She shook her head. You're bold, Raphael, to ask that, but I adore you. "Relief, tell me the situation." He considered her, and she could see by the look in his eyes that he was ready to restrain her husband if necessary. "He would never hurt me." "You would bet your life on this?" "I would. I would trust him to protect me with his life." Her new husband turned and gave her a look of love. He reached out a hand and touched the side of her face tenderly with his fingertips. Raphael stepped back one step. "Still, I must know." By this time, the rest of her family was standing around them, guarding her. "Where were you taking my daughter in your anger, my lord?" Mr. Moore, the elder, inquired. You're so dignified, strong, and wise, Father. Relief glanced at him in his fine, dark, American-styled suit, her heart bursting with respect. She thought of her parent's quiet confidence. "I am not angry with her!" "Explain yourself," he said, but with courtesy. 288

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Lord Cheltham suddenly grinned, looking at the Moore family with great admiration in his eyes. "You are a close family." Every member of the Moore family nodded. Mr. Moore took his wife's hand in his left, and with his right, touched Honora's shoulder. "Yes, my lord. And my daughters, as you can see, are beautiful. Relief has had a good share of fanatical pursuers, great admirers of her beauty. You will have a difficult time looking after her, protecting her. I have always hired the best men to look out for her. I trust you are capable though, or I would never have given you my blessing." "I am more than capable, sir. And my love for her compels me to take on this task with diligence. I assure you, there will be no breath left in my body before anyone harms my beloved Relief." Mr. Moore smiled. "Where were you taking her then?" Lord Cheltham rubbed his chin, trying to decide how to put the matter. Relief turned to him and placed her hand on his arm. She gave him as an enchanting of a look as she could muster. "My lord husband, if I may..." "What, my love?" "Allow me to explain to my family." He gave her a stern look as if to say, "It would be best if I handled this." "Please. The seventh."

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He inhaled deeply as he looked into her face. She was referring to the seventh kiss that she would reward him with later. He nodded and gestured with his hand. "Wife." She looked at each member of her family, one by one. Their brows were crinkled with confusion, except for Honora's; she was wringing her hands nervously. Mr. Moore frowned and touched his daughter's arm. He pulled her forward. Relief stepped closer to him, and Lord Cheltham stepped back. "Relief, this is nothing resembling Milan, is it? Do you have more trouble?" "Milan?" Lord Cheltham interjected. "Sir, she has never told me anything about Milan. I should be glad to know what happened." Mr. Moore sighed. "It was before we lived in Asia. An obsessed man wanted her. One look at my Relief, and he haunted her every move." "Sir, what came about?" "He was particularly motivated. He knocked her guards insensible, and tied them up." "And?" "He climbed into the window of her chambers, the one she shared with her sister. Honora was asleep." "Father, this is ... delicate. Perhaps we should—" "I am obliged to insist on hearing this, wife. I must have an account of the scene." He nodded to Mr. Moore. "Your husband should know this, sweetheart." Relief grew cold with worry. "Father." 290

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"Shh, it's fine, my little flower." Honora scoffed and chuckled at the same time. Mr. Moore turned to face her. "Honora? Would you care to share what is so funny?" "Father, Relief is no delicate little flower, I assure you." His brows drew together. "Oh? Is there something I should know?" Honora straightened up quickly and stuttered over her next words. "Um, no, I referred to her temper." "A temper will not protect her from criminals, Honora, even if her brothers showed her a move or two of selfprotection." "I'm sorry, Father. Of course you are correct." He looked back to Lord Cheltham who had a contemplative look on his face as if he were adding up the facts. He looked at Relief carefully, studying her face. He placed one hand over her eye. She jumped back. "My lord?" "Call me Cheltham." "What?" "Please, say Cheltham." "Oh, Cheltham." "Now sweet wife, lower your voice. Drop it down oh, a fifth or so, maybe more." She shook her head. "Do as I ask." She swallowed hard and manipulated her voice. She spoke in a lower octave but differently than she did when she spoke 291

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as Raphael. He gave her a suspicious look but said nothing. The Moores were staring. "What is this all about, my lord?" He opened his mouth to say but glanced into Relief's eyes, which stung with tears. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips for a kiss. "I do not yet know, sir, but I will apprise you of the situation when I find out for myself. Please finish telling me about Milan." "Relief was trying to fall asleep. She felt pressure over her body and opened her eyes, terrified. The man was lying on top of her. He forced a kiss on her, swallowing her screams." "Dear God, what happened?" Lord Cheltham asked with his fists clenched. Anger etched his features. "Raphael busted open the door with a pistol in his hand. Daniel had been walking below to meet a woman in the dark when he saw the man enter Relief's window. He saw his brother in their own window in the next room over and shouted to him. Just as Raphael was forcing the barrel of the gun down the man's throat, Daniel entered through the window and helped drag him out of the room." Lord Cheltham was trembling with obvious ire. "Benjamin?" she said. "My lord?" He turned to face her, his jaw tight. He was breathing faster. "It seems, Lady Cheltham, that I will have my task cut out for me. It seems that I will reach top form, fighting off all of your overly amorous suitors." 292

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"I am confident that you will sleep with one eye open to see that my daughter is not molested, or worse, killed." "I have the pleasure of assuring you that you have my word of honor as a man, sir, that it will be so. Now as a matter of course we must leave." "Another possessed man?" Lord Cheltham nodded. Raphael smiled. "Let me get the guns!" he said with some cheer. "It will be fun to make some lowlife eat led!" "I have it handled," Lord Cheltham said. Raphael frowned. Mr. Moore held his hand up. "Son, it is his lordship's place now." But he looked at his new son-in-law. "You will send a note if you need support, if the situation grows out-of-hand?" "Yes, sir. Thank you. For now, my wife needs to feel confident that her husband can protect her." He placed a shielding, gentle hand over her silver sleeve, and gave her arm a squeeze. "Agreed." Raphael stepped forward. Mr. Moore held him back by the arm. "Son, if we are needed, we will be informed." Raphael sighed, greatly annoyed. Your temper, my brother. "You will advise us when you have settled this, my lord." Mr. Moore gave him an intent look. "Sir." He nodded and led Relief out the door as her family stepped aside and watched, faces fixed with worry and curiosity. 293

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Nineteen He took her straight to their bedchambers and stood before her giving her a long, silent look. He studied her eyes searching for reasons why anyone would want to harm her then rubbed his temples, vexed. "My lord?" It briefly occurred to Relief that this situation could have been grandly romantic. They were standing in the bedroom, before a large four-poster bed draped with heavy silk and covered in luxuriantly thick and soft covers. She was in a startling beautiful silver gown, and he was heart-stoppingly handsome in his fine wedding suit. She imagined him sweeping her up in his strong arms and striding to the side of the bed. He would lay her down upon it then cover her with his whole body. He would kiss her deeply and passionately while she sighed and moaned and professed her unending love for him. His dark gray eyes would darken as he took her on a journey into pleasure that she had ever experienced before. Afterward, he would hold her and swear his infinite love for her. She closed her eyes and stumbled, being overwhelmed with desire, but she couldn't give in. Her life passed before her in flashes. She saw flags and myriad landscapes. She saw thousands of faces. Never, never in her experience had she ever seen her husband's equal. "Relief, look at me." He grabbed her forearm to steady her. 294

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She opened her eyes. He was looking into her soul. She could stand it no longer; she pulled him into a kiss that would have startled him with its intensity. He moaned and ran his hands down her arms and up and over her neck. He slid his fingers over her collarbone. "Oh my God." He pulled away. She was left standing there, gazing upon him. He leaned over, breathing heavily. "Relief ... you must not distract me." He took several more deep breaths. "Oh my God." He stood up. "I must ... go." He frowned. "In any other situation, I would forget my business and do what I am dying to do. I would coax the five other kisses from you and then pleasure you until you begged me to stop, hopefully sometime next week—Oh my God, I want you, Relief. But you must stay here. I will be back." "Where are you going, my lord?" she said, deeply stimulated by the visions inspired within her. "I cannot endure the idea that you must feel threatened for one more evening." "What?" she snapped. "The fight coordinator will be able to give me an idea where to find that bastard who makes you feel the continuing threat of death. I will no longer tolerate you having that horrific anticipation." "Oh, Benjamin, no!" "Stay here, Relief! That is not a request. Stay in here. I will be fine." "Benjamin, he has exceptional fighting skills, unusual skills from an ancient art." 295

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"Beloved, I learned a few of those moves myself." "It won't be enough!" "Can he dodge a bullet?" "You would become a murderer?" He gave her a look of disbelief. "Pardon me?" "You would shoot an unarmed man? He carries no weapon. He does not need to." "To save your life." "If you do, I will hate you." He slapped his hands to his sides and spoke with exasperation. "Fine. I will find a way to defeat him with my bare hands. Will that meet with your approval, wife?" he said sarcastically. "What will it take to earn your respect?" Tears blurred her vision. "I respect you greatly, Benjamin. It's just that he's a world-class fighter." "Do not insult me, Relief." He scoffed and changed into his street clothes. She touched his shoulder and whispered into his ear. "Benjamin, you have no idea how much I love you. I want you to know, so I am going to show you. All of your life, you will know with every part of your being how much I love you." "Then I did the right thing by making you my wife." "I could only dream that it would be so." He turned around slowly and looked at her. "Relief, I love you so much it hurts. I will be your hero whether you like it or not. Your would-be killer does not hate you as much as I love you, and that is precisely why I will be coming back home to you this night." 296

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She looked at her feet and nodded. He placed three gentle kisses, right in a row, on her lips. He must have tasted the salt from her tears. "May you have your victory, husband. Allow me to watch." "Absolutely not. Stay here." "Must you insist upon that?" "With all my authority as your husband." She gave him her devastating half-grin, but it was laced with sadness. "When you look at me with that smile of yours, Relief, I want to go out and conquer the world for you. I used to dream of kissing those lips. You would sob my name with your great need as I covered you." She closed her eyes. "Come back to me, husband." "I will. I promise you, lady." She opened her eyes and watched as he strode from the room, more determined than she had ever seen a man in her entire nineteen years. **** She hired a cab that took her to her house. Very quietly she let herself in, peering around the door to see if anyone was in the front parlor. It was empty. She heard voices from a room off to the side. One was Honora's. She pressed herself against the wall and edged along it, peering in the doorway then drawing her head back. She did it again. Honora looked up as if she sensed something. They met eye-to-eye before Relief gestured with her head. Honora 297

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stopped speaking with Daniel and excused herself saying, "Daniel, I'm tired and would like to rest. We'll talk at dinner?" "Are you out of sorts, Nora?" "Not at all." "All right." Relief skirted across the floor and headed toward the stairs. Honora lifted her skirts and followed her, racing as fast as she could go. When they were alone in the room that they had shared, Honora took her by the shoulders. They were both breathing heavily. "Relief?" "Make me up as Raphael. He's going to die." "Your husband is not going to attempt to fight him is he?" "Yes." "Oh my God." Honora lurched to the back of the room. She retrieved her makeup kit. Relief was already undressing. She went to the wardrobe and pulled out her street fighter clothes. Honora helped her finish undressing. Relief threw on the breeches, loose shirt, and boots. Honora hurried to apply her makeup and twist her hair into a long queue. "Wear the scarf over your hair." She tossed a ragged cloth over Relief's head and tied the back into a knot. "Oh, do hurry Honora! His life depends on it!" Honora's shaking hands moved faster if that were possible. She helped her to sneak out of the house, distracting her family. As Relief hurried to the heart of the city, The noises and smells inundated her as they normally did. 298

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She swallowed hard, imagining her foe striking a death blow to her husband. She found the fight coordinator. He was a heavy-set, balding man who smelled like body order and cigars. He was puffing on one now. Relief withheld her distaste and asked about Mr. Wright. "Aye, he was here, asking about that mysterious fella. I saw him earlier. I told him to save the fight for the tournament. There was money to be made. He pulled out a pouch of money and paid me enough to tell him what he wanted to know. I sent him on his way." "Where are they, sir?" "You were going to be his brother?" "Yes. He married my sister." He looked over her carefully and gave her the information she sought. Relief darted off. She knew a short cut. She could get there before her husband did, if she leaped over walls and crawled under little spaces. She paused behind the grimy wall of a poor person's home and saw her love with fierce intention on his face, heading towards her enemy. Taking a parallel course, she sprinted and saw the murderer, practicing fighting moves alone in a clearing. She jumped in front of him, startling him. He took a stance. "Miss Moore." He smirked. "The little lad." "Shut up. He doesn't know, and he's on his way. We are married now." He bowed mockingly. "Your secret is safe with me, Mrs. Wright." "He approaches down the road; you should prepare to fight me." 299

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"Ah, now is the time? You will die for him this day?" "It is our wedding day." "How romantic. Your punishment will be even greater than I could have hoped for." He lurched at her. Perspiration covered her as they fought. "I'm not going to make this easy for you. You will have to work for it." "I can see him. My partner will kill him." She dropped her arms and froze her feet. "Take me." He flipped her and slammed her onto the ground. She landed with a thump, gasping, sharp pain shooting up her spine to her head, and she nearly lost awareness. Her vision blurred, and she fought to stay alert. He placed his foot on her neck. Her husband ran up and stopped short. Dust flew up around his feet. "Raphael! What are you doing here?" "I met him on the road ... Cheltham. I am afraid ... that he ... got the best of me," she said between gasps. "Let him go!" Lord Cheltham roared. "You will fight me now!" He smirked evilly. "Mr. Wright. A pleasure." "Let my brother go!" "I'm afraid your brother must die this night." "No!" "But before I extinguish his life—" He bent down and tore open her shirt. Relief held her breath, exposed. She had not had time to bind her chest as she normally did. She pulled the flaps of the shirt back over 300

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herself with shaky hands, her head still spinning. Tears spilled from her eyes. "Know who I am killing, Mr. Wright. Your wife!" Lord Cheltham looked down at Relief, his gray eyes wild with anguish, his lips parted. "I did not want to be right," he croaked out. He looked up at the evil man. "I love you, Benjamin," she said in her own defeated voice, fading in and out, with spots before her eyes. The evil one pulled out a short blade. He lifted the gleaming weapon to plunge it into her heart. She wanted the image of her husband to fill her eyes before she died, and turned her fading vision to him. He pulled a gun out from a holster under his cloak. Everything turned black. **** Her eyes fluttered open. Her husband was staring into her face frowning. She sat up slowly in the luxurious bed. "Benjamin," she said, breathing out in great thanks that he was alive. Still he said nothing, only tensed his jaw. "Benjamin, speak to me." He closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them and looked at her with wet eyes. "Benjamin..." "I can't." He got up and walked away from the bed. He stood with his back to her, his posture taut. She shifted against and 301

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winced, aching and stiff from fighting the fiercest battle of her life. What the deuce had happened? She was in a white satiny chemise, trimmed in lace, an exaggerated feminine touch to the undergarment. Little silk roses decorated the neckline. Her hair was down, flowing. She touched her clothes and hair. He changed me into this. She stood up carefully. "Are you well, Relief?" He spun around. "Yes. I'm doing very well." He strode to her, clutching his chest, brow crinkled, breathing heavily. "My God, Relief!" He got down on one knee, gazing at the floor then took in a deep breath and brought traumatized eyes to meet hers. He pressed a fisted palm on his forehead, closing his eyes again. She plopped over the edge of the bed, knelt down, and threw her arms around him. He clutched her. "Oh dear God," he sobbed. "I almost lost you—again." She squeezed him harder. "I was trying to die for you, Benjamin." He pressed her head to his chest. "Are you the one missing the furniture in your upper chambers, Relief? You must be quite mad." "You should have let him finish. This is old business between him and me. You had nothing to do with it until now." "I had everything to do with it!" 302

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"You are in danger now." "I killed him, Relief." She pulled away. "What?" He squinted. "You should look relieved, not stricken." She touched her mouth, and her eyes stung with the wetness of fear. "You ... killed him?" "I shot him." "Benjamin," she sighed and slumped her shoulders. "I am no murderer. He was about to plunge a knife into your heart. I was not close enough to stop him with my bare hands." "Oh, Benjamin." "You should feel safer now. The magistrate knows the whole story. It seems he was happy when I told him. Your enemy was wanted for other crimes. He would have been hung had I turned him in." She was staring at him. "Now it is your turn to talk, Relief. I demand answers." "Benjamin, he has a partner."

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Twenty "Explain this, Relief!" "The man you killed told me once that if I didn't lie down and die under his hands, that if I killed him, his partner would hunt you down and murder you. He's wanted me dead for some time now, and it seems that I'm harder to kill than he had anticipated, even with all those months of intimidation." "That's what you meant this morning. You were planning to die even as you took your vows. You were planning to give your life for me. You might have defeated him, probably would have. That is why he wanted you to lie down and take his deathblow." "Yes." He was momentarily unable to express what this did to him. She touched his hand. It was trembling. She threw herself into his arms. "I had no idea your love for me ran so deep, Relief." She sobbed. He held her and kissed her head. "What is the name of his partner?" "He never told me." "I will find out." "I will help you." "Over my dead body." "Raphael will help you." "Unless you mean that stocky, hot-tempered, dark-haired fellow that was in attendance at our wedding and threatened 304

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to kill me if I ever harmed you, then my answer is, 'over my dead body.'" "Benjamin, I am capable! You know I can fight!" "I don't give a damn. Your days as a crime-fighting lad are over." "That's why I did not want to marry you!" He was breathing faster, greatly agitated. "That explains plenty, Relief, but I will not be moved on this issue, ever!" "I want to dissolve our marriage. I am Raphael Taylor, damn you." "You are Relief, Lady Cheltham, madam. You are never again going to dress as a boy and put your life on the line. I will not have it!" "You liked Raphael! He was your closest friend!" Sadness deepened the grayness of his eyes. "Indeed. I knew there was a reason I was so drawn to the little lad, er, I mean lass, I mean you!" He shook his head and clenched his hands. "You have my head reeling, madam!" "You enjoyed Raphael's company." "I enjoy yours. Now you are my closest friend." He frowned. "How odd." "You took pleasure in both sides of me, Benjamin. Raphael Taylor is as much me as is the woman before you now." He took her hands in his and gave her a look of regret. "My God, darling, this means that I have struck you." He looked ill from the thought. She touched the hair at his brow and gave him a tender look. 305

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"No, Benjamin. You struck Raphael, a lad, not the woman you love." A slight look of madness flashed briefly across his eyes. "I hurt you. I knocked you senseless." "No, Benjamin—"she sighed. "Forgive me." She touched his face and nodded. He squeezed her in the circle of his arms. "Please forgive me." "Yes." "I never dreamed of suppressing you, Relief. That is not my intention, but I'm sorry, you will have to come to terms with giving up that part of your life. Only with me in the ground will you ever again go about the streets of London fighting the streets' most dangerous criminals. I will have to be dead and gone before that happens ever again." She let out a small sob. He tightened his embrace as if to never let go. "I'm sorry, my love." "Let me help you find the partner," she said with difficulty. He heard her breath come out strained and loosened his hug. "No. I will ask your brothers for help if that will put your mind at rest. Will it Relief? I will hear your opinion on this matter. Do you want them to know?" She shook her head and sniffled. "They can't know. My father's fury would blow if he discovered that I hid this from him these past few years then paid the guard I dismissed to come back and pretend he never left." 306

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"I can not say that I would blame him. So you do not want your family to be apprised of the situation?" "No." "Honora knows." "She is the only one." "Could she be in danger from this partner?" "I do not know. It was never brought up." "Christ. Now I have to worry about three women. And you do not want me to call upon your brothers and father." "Let me help you, Benjamin. You need me." He pulled her away so he could look into her face. "Yes, my darling. I need you to no end, but not in the way to which you refer. I need you so that my heart does not stop beating. I need you because I am so in love with you." "Now I fear for Honora." "We shall have her as a long-term houseguest then, sweet love. She shall move in with us." "Thank you, Benjamin." He nodded. "My family will be returning to New York soon." Worry was poorly disguised in his eyes. "I hope to hear from this protector you hired soon. I am concerned about Joan as well." "He will report to me in the near future." "I will not leave you alone in this country while an evil man is still out there and a threat to you, Relief. Not even if Joan needs me. Now that we are married, I could take you with me though if I had to leave. Devil take it, I probably would have done so before instead of leaving you with a protector when I 307

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really consider the matter. You have me in such a state of—" he sighed. "I must think clearly." She looked up into his face and brought her fingertips to his jaw while her heart throbbed with tenderness. "Oh Benjamin, I know how much this hurts you. You are haunted by your past with her. You feel that you owe her, and your heart aches over what happened in that forest. You would never forgive yourself if something bad happened to her." He closed his eyes. She let her hand fall to her side then reached and grasped his hand. "When I met you, Benjamin, you told me that you were haunted by grief. I did not yet know that it was concerning your sister. You told Raphael that I looked upon you and smiled, promising to rescue you." He opened his eyes and reached out to her with his probing expression. "To rescue my heart, beloved. To pull me from that anguish. Oh my dearest love, I am sorry. I was mistaken. I have failed to save my sister. I am unworthy." "No, Benjamin, you are a hero. I would be dead if it were not for you. And so would Joan." "What do you mean?" He gave her a looked filled with question. "When we became engaged, Joan approached Honora and me one day when we were shopping." "You never said anything." "Joan and her soon-to-be sister-in-law pulled up in a very fine carriage just as we were leaving the shop. She pulled me aside. 'Miss Moore, I am Lord Cheltham's sister. I have 308

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searched the city for you for two days now. Someone said that you often shop here in the morning.' 'What can I do for you?' 'You are engaged to be married to my brother.' 'Yes.'" Lord Cheltham held up his hand. "She approached you?" "Yes. She told me that if she died, she wanted you to know something. I was quite surprised by her words and asked what she meant by them." "And?" He leaned closer to her. "She said that if you did not bring her real family to the church and have them waiting for her, if she were forced to go through with the wedding to that miserable man that your parents chose for her based on his wealth and status alone, she would kill herself.'" He leaned back, his face drained of color. She squeezed his hand. "After that, Benjamin, I hired the guard. If you had not brought the family to that church, I would have had the guard escort Joan out of the country." He gawked at her. "You are the most efficient woman I have ever come across in my life." "I speak eight languages. It is not hard for me to communicate with people from all walks of life. I have been all over the world in many situations." "Astounding." "And able to help you." "Over my dead body." "Why, Benjamin? Why?" "Because you are a woman, my woman." Anger flared. Her little hands squeezed into fists. "Reconsider." 309

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"No. Most adamantly, no." "You are impossible." "And you have no choice. You did before, as an unmarried woman. Now you are my wife, and I will make that choice for you." "You are holding your power over my head." "So I am." He went to leave the room. "Where are you going, my lord?" she said, with a touch of bitterness. "To find him." "You need me." He swung around and pointed a finger at her. "You will stay here, and just to make sure..." he went to a small table on the other side of the room, opened up a drawer, and pulled out a key. "What are you going to do with that, my lord?" "I am resolved to execute my power as a husband. A servant will be instructed to check on your needs in an hour if you should grow hungry or such." Her eyes widened. He strode to the door and shut it behind himself with some ceremony. She heard him turning the lock with the key, and she banged on the door with her fists. "Go to sleep, Relief!" She heard his footsteps as he walked down the corridor. She was boiling with anger. She paced the room cursing in all eight of her languages. She spoke more in the ones that had the best colorful expressions. Hours later she finally plopped 310

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down on the bed, exhausted. She fell back against the thick, soft coverings. As she was muttering a curse in Italian, he entered the room. He said, "I never heard that phrase before." "That is because I called you a—" "Relief! That will be quite enough!" She jutted out her chin. "Did you find him, my lord?" He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, showing his fatigue. "No, but I found a clue." "What is it?" She sat up. "I'm afraid to bring you in on this." "Benjamin, you could at least allow me to help you solve this from my imprisoned position." "You are not in prison!" "I beg to differ." "You know, Relief," he grasped her forearms. "This could have been paradise. I wish to reel you with pleasure." She scowled at him. She leaned to within an inch of his face. "You really want to make love to me." His face softened with true love. He touched her cheek gently with the back of his hand. "I wish to express my unworldly love for you, wife." She smirked, an ugly twist of her lips and leaned closer to him. She placed four soft kisses on his lips, counting between each one. Kiss. "Eight." Kiss. "Nine." Kiss. "Ten." Kiss. "Eleven." He blinked in amazement. "What does this mean, Relief?" 311

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"It means, my lord, that I will never kiss you again. I want to dissolve our marriage." "Never," he swallowed sadly. She had hurt him. He took her hand in his. "Relief, I discovered that the man's partner is a nobleman." She sat up straighter. "What? How did you find this out?" "I went about in my buccaneer clothes, as that detestable Mr. Hawksworth once called them, and roamed the streets. I asked around. It seems that my connection to Raphael, to you," he frowned, "has earned me quite some respect. People opened up to me. The man I shot has been seen with a man in fine clothes, a man with a cloud-white cravat. A ruby pin sparkled within its folds. He gave me an elaborate description of the clothes. It had to be a nobleman." "Who?" "I do not know yet. I know dozens of men that could fit the description of the clothes." "He did not describe the man himself?" "He said that he was wearing a wig. And he did not procure a good look at his face." "Who gave you this information, my lord?" "I must own it was your little mudlark." Her brows rose. "The little fella was a difficult lad. You were able to procure information from him?" "For a shiny coin." "And he trusted you to go near him?"

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"He remembered me. He almost broke my ankle once, remember? He admitted that in truth, he looked up to you. He said that you made the streets safer for the little ones." "Like him?" "No, smaller than him. He still insists that he is a man, even though he cannot be much above ten or so. He was in fine spirits as well having found a bit of copper in the Thames. His normal find is usually no better than pieces of iron or coal that he can sell." "I make the streets safer for children, Benjamin." "Not anymore." "Bastard." Anger flashed across his eyes. "You will refrain from calling me that ever again!" "Your parents were not at our wedding. How do I know you have parents?" "Do not venture there, Relief!" "Why, because you really are a bastard?" He sucked in a long breath. "Sleep frustrated tonight, instead of screaming in the greatest delight your body, mind, and heart will ever know!" "Hah! In your dreams!" "We shall see, Relief!" "Hmm!" She crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. "Oh, I should like you to know your sister is situated in her room down the hall." Her anger dissipated somewhat. "Really?" "Yes." He undressed fully and stood before her naked. She couldn't help but to stare at his magnificent muscular body. 313

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She looked long and hard. He grinned. His chest and shoulders were broad and narrowed to a flat stomach and narrow waist. His legs were powerful. His-She gulped. That was a beautiful sight as well. He was wonderfully sculpted. "You're going to sleep here?" "Yes, next to my wife. Very close." "Naked?" "Yes." "Oh Lord."

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Twenty-one She lay back on the bed. He climbed in next to her, folding his arms around her. His lips brushed soft kisses along her neck. His breath was hot. He wet her skin with the tip of his tongue, ascending until he was teasing the sensitive area behind her ear. She shivered. Her body stiffened. She was acutely aware of a great sexual tension surging throughout her entire body as she inhaled deeply of his essence, so masculine, and desirable. She looked into his face. He traced her jaw gently with his hand. She exhaled in a whisper as she imagined sighing to high heaven in the ecstasy that he promised to bring her. He lightly traced her breasts through her chemise. She moaned. "Relief." His fingers skimmed over her like a feather lower and lower. "My wife. Since the day I first saw you, I have dreamed of touching you so." He touched the hem of her nightdress and slid his fingers under it. "Darling, your skin is warm. Your heart races." His hand roved upward, slowly. She closed her eyes. Her skin tingled. He reached the top of her inner thighs. His fingers lingered there, barely touching her. She felt the heat of his hands. Her eyes popped open. "What are you going to do, my lord?" He frowned. "Not make love to you until I've had my twelfth kiss. Not until you breathe out my name in your passion." "Oh, then what are you doing?" She breathed faster. 315

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"Torturing both of us. I will touch you, Relief. I will make you squirm. I will bring you to the brink." "The brink of what?" His eyes grew dark. He gently pressed his hand down, and she gasped. He touched her with exquisite softness, in small circles. She shifted her hips. She writhed as her toes tingled to life, and incredible pleasure sparked up her calves, up her thighs. She grew warmer and warmer and arched her back. Her stomach tightened, and she inhaled sharply. "Oh, Benjamin!" she screamed. Something was happening to her, something astonishing. She tightened up, every muscle in her body squeezing. "Oh!" It was building, and building and—he pulled his hand away. She held her breath, not moving, throbbing with swollen need. She was clutching the sheets in white-knuckled hands, her back and toes curved sharply. Her mouth hung open. He rose above her and looked into her eyes fiercely. She couldn't move or think. Tears streamed down her face. **** The next morning she woke before he did, having rested very little. She stared into his face. She reached out a trembling hand to touch his cheek. He had touched her intimately, making her moan and sigh. She felt sensations build and build until she thought that she was going to blow into a million tiny pieces. Then he stopped. She was holding her breath, and tensing her body and grasping the sheets so tightly that she thought she would lose her senses. She lay there confused, frustration and cutting disappointment 316

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bringing tears to her eyes. As little rivulets of her distress ran down her face, she had almost begged for him to finish. She had almost demanded. He left her lying there, her head reeling, not knowing what hit her. Then he had taken her hand in his and slid it slowly down his heated skin. He encircled her hand around him, and she drew in a deep, sharp breath. She closed her eyes, remembering what he felt like. He moaned aloud, and guided her hand over him a few times. "Do you want me, Relief?" his voice came out ragged. "Dear God, Benjamin, I do." "Kiss me." She almost did. "Wife," he croaked out. "No," she whispered. He cursed, jumped up and went over to the water bowl which was lying on a nearby table. He splashed his face a few times, stopped, took in several deep breaths, turned and gave her an urgent look. "This is about love, Relief. When you will have me, you won't regret it." Her breathing was heavy now this next morning as she looked at him. "I will never know the joy of having you, my husband." **** After breakfast that day, he took Relief and Honora about town. They asked him to stop and take them walking by some shops displaying many wonderful things for the eyes. In one 317

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shop they admired exotic paintings. Relief yanked on her husband's coat sleeve. "My lord." She smiled. He gestured for her and Honora to enter the shop and stood back smiling as he watched the sisters expressing their appreciation for several of the paintings as if he liked the music of their chit-chat. Relief held one painting up. She handed it to Honora, excited as a school girl. "Honora, I'm going to purchase it! This one has heart." She opened up a little silk reticule and pulled out some coins. "I have enough money." Lord Cheltham frowned and approached them, striding across the shop. Her smile of delight melted when she saw her husband's face. "My lord?" "Put your money away, Relief." "But my lord—" "I will purchase the painting for you." She curtseyed. "Thank you, but no thank you, my lord. I find myself very much obliged to decline your generous offer." She gave him a look of scorn. He was trying to control her, yet again. She put the painting down and tugged on her sister's arm, dragging her out of the shop. The girls stopped suddenly out front. A young, handsome gentleman stood before them, eyes of admiration glued to Relief. Relief spoke in a trembling voice. "Mr. Richards, are you recently come to London?" 318

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He looked at them, grinning smoothly. "Miss Moore and Miss Honora. Good morning. I trust that I find you well on this day?" Lord Cheltham stepped out behind them. He grabbed his wife's hand and glared at Mr. Richards. "Who the devil might you be?" he asked with anger. Relief and Honora dropped their jaws. Mr. Richards spoke to Relief. "Could this mean you are no longer Miss Moore?" "Haven't you read the papers?" Lord Cheltham snapped. "Now answer my question." Relief gave her husband a look displaying her sadness and feelings of repression. "Why are you doing this, my lord?" "My wife, everyone, it seems, has certain motivations with you." "I have done business with her family. I heard that she was in London and so decided to come see her." "How well do you know the Moores, my wife, for that matter?" "As for the Moores, we have done business regularly. I remember when your wife was four years younger. I tried to persuade her to marry me. But do not worry, sir. She declined my offer firmly." "I am her husband now, and I protect her with deadly force. Any man caught casting his eyes in her direction in a way that I deem as less than respectful will deal with me soundly." Mr. Richards looked at him. "I see." "I hope you do." 319

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You're out of control! Relief thought. He led his trembling wife past her old family friend. Honora said not a word. Relief was fuming but held her tongue. When her husband was called across the road to speak to a friend, Relief turned and whispered to Honora. They saw him turn often and look at them as they discussed her "escape." He frowned, and Relief was sure he was wondering what they were discussing. When he came back to their sides, he demanded to know what they were planning. They played stupid. "Relief, tell me now," he said with cold smoothness. "My lord, you will not be so unkind as to press this issue with me." He could not have missed the flicker of sadness that crossed her eyes because he sighed but said nothing further. **** Fine carriages were everywhere, and handsome couples walked into the doorway of the opera theater. Relief heard the orchestra practicing as people filed in. Her husband walked a little ways and greeted a friend, but he turned and looked upon Relief with love from a few yards away. It made her almost decide to change her plans, almost. She closed her eyes, and Honora touched her arm. "Leafy?" "I'm well. Plans as usual, Honora," she whispered. "There will be no time to dress you as a boy."

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"I do not care anymore. I miss being who I am. It cannot concern me further if I am seen as I am, at least for tonight. I'll worry about disguises later." "How could he do this to you, Relief? I know that he thinks he is protecting you, but this is not fair. I know it breaks your heart." She turned and gave Honora a look as her heart thumped with sorrow, and she nodded. She pulled her into an embrace. "Thank you, sweetheart, for everything you do." Honora squeezed her. "Mum and Pop are here at the performance as well as our intimidating brothers. You know they will help him, do you not?" "I know," she sighed. She felt a pang of regret and loss. She looked over and into his eyes with regret for what she was about to do. "I love you," she saw him mouth. He watched her ardently, then came to her, took her hand, and guided her to their seats. Later during the intermission he stood and squeezed her into his arms. "Ah, beloved." She closed her eyes, and she felt tears sting them. He pulled away. "Relief?" he almost whispered. He leaned closer. "Are you going to kiss me, my lord?" She opened her eyes and muttered from softly parted lips, preparing for the warmth of his lips. He drew close and stopped a breath away.

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"Kiss me, Relief. Give me the twelfth, and I will be your husband in full tonight. I long to share that with you, my love." She shook her head, feeling remorse. "Then my wife, I will not kiss you." "Benjamin—" She grasped the sleeve of his expensive suit. "My lord husband." "I hope you cannot doubt I am grateful to my bones that I am your husband, Relief. It goes beyond wanting to make love to you. I am just so very happy to belong to you. Now, let us speak no more of this until after the performance," he said with tenderness that made her knees buckle. A tear ran down her face as she watched the performance. **** Relief and Honora stood up to leave the box. Lord Cheltham stood to go with them, but she smiled and assured him that all was well, that they would be back presently. Moments after she left, a young man dressed in fine clothes approached Lord Cheltham and handed him a folded note. He took it from him eagerly and opened it. We should not suit. Relief He dropped the paper. He immediately jumped up, calling for her. He looked around, but he couldn't find her. His heart began to race. He grew increasingly worried that she had been kidnapped. Perhaps the note was forced. She wouldn't leave, would she? 322

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He alerted security and the Moore family. A search began. Honora was missing, too. **** They were racing like the wind on horseback, still in their opera clothes. It started to rain heavily, and the wind picked up. At some time around midnight, they slammed open the door to the rough, run-down inn. They were breathing heavily and pressed against the front wall. Relief reached out an arm and shut the door. The place was filled with men, gruff, sloppy, drunken, hungry-looking men, and they were staring at the ladies with their wet dresses clinging to every inch of their bodies. A couple of choice spirits were singing and bellowing in the back. Several candied fellows grinned liked starving cats eyeing a bit of cream. Relief touched Honora's arm. "Do not leave my side, sister." "Not if you paid me ten thousand guineas." "There's that number again," she said and grinned. "You are obsessed with it!" One man approached them. "Ladies?" "We are in need of drinks." She tried to pull Honora toward the bar. He stepped in front of her. "Allow me to buy them for you." "No, thank you, sir." He frowned. "What's the matter? Too good for me?" "No, sir. We do not accept gifts from men we do not know. We are proper ladies." 323

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A couple of other men stood up. They were big, and they smelled like manure. "Tonight you will accept a gift. A big one!" The man gestured to his lower regions. That inspired every man around him to burst out into laughter. Relief pushed Honora behind herself and took a widefooted stance, hands up, palms out. The man directly in front of her started chuckling. At first it was a low rumble in his throat and then it built up until it flew out of his mouth with great mockery. The other men in the room soon joined him in his mirth. He stepped toward Relief. In less than two seconds, she had him face down on the floor, and she was twisting his arm fiercely as he yelled out. Honora went to him and kicked his side with her little foot. She jutted her chin out proudly. Another man attacked. Relief jumped up, spun around and kicked him in the chest. He went flying. Two more men lurched at them. She rendered them senseless, lying on the floor, and stood hunched forward, her open palms in the air, her eyes promising a world of pain. More dared to come forth. Honora stood against the wall, her chin up proudly. The innkeeper spoke. "I thought you said that you were proper ladies." "We are. We just know how to fight." "What will you ladies have?" He knitted his brow and looked around. Several men were rubbing various parts of their bodies, wincing in their pain. **** 324

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At one-thirty a.m. a lord dressed in breeches laced over a pair of fine shoes, a quality shirt, a lush white cravat with a diamond pin sparkling within its folds and a velvet trimmed coat pushed open the door, dripping wet; long, drenched strands of blond hair sticking to his neck, and falling to his shoulders; and he gripped a pistol at his side. He was accompanied by an angry-looking stout man even bigger in muscle size than he was, nicely dressed as well, but obviously not a lord, more like an American. The lord strode across the room with his friend and sat at the bar, great perturbation marring his features. He ordered a drink and slammed it down. He gestured rapidly for another. The innkeeper poured him one. "What troubles you this night, my lord?" "My wife has been kidnapped. My brother-in-law and I are searching around here. I have others looking elsewhere. Have you seen anything unusual this way tonight?" Chuckling caused him to turn around. "Is something funny?" A fat man scratched his rough gray chin. "Anything unusual?" He laughed. His lordship turned and looked at the innkeeper again. His brow was raised high. "Is your wife blonde, my lord?" "No." "Oh, then I haven't seen her." "What is that supposed to mean?"

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Twenty-two Lord Cheltham glanced around the room, which had quieted when he and Raphael had pushed open the door. A few men lay passed-out on benches in the back, but many others held drinks, unmoving, and watched him and Raphael carefully. Lord Cheltham turned back to the barkeep. "My lord, a fair-haired lady was here, the one trembling with fear. She was obviously not in charge. The dark-haired woman who accompanied her controlled the situation— confident and brave she was. I dare say that the little blonde girl was the one who was kidnapped, but you said that your wife was..." "Brunette." He looked at him, impatience growing within him. "Were they both beautiful women?" "Yes." "Were they alone?" "It appeared that way." "How were they dressed?" He sighed. "Dripping wet, with their gowns sticking to them, firing the lust of every man in here." Lord Cheltham slammed his hand down on the bar, creating an ominous cracking sound on the wood. The tavernkeep jumped back. "What kind of clothes were they wearing?" "Fancy clothes, dressed for the theater." Tension wracked Lord Cheltham's body. He inhaled deeply through his nose, clenched his hand into a fist, and then 326

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slowly uncurled his fingers. In the course of five seconds, Raphael checked his pistol, spun it around and pointed it the innkeeper's way. He said nothing except to threaten death with his eyes. He was rewarded with a look of wide-eyed fear. "You are sure they were alone?" Lord Cheltham repeated. "Unless they had a man waiting outside. I do not know. They did not need one though, I will tell you that much. That dark-haired beauty single-handedly took out ten men. I jest not." Raphael's eyes grew large. When Lord Cheltham's anxious fear relaxed upon these words, a laugh escaped his throat. Raphael looked at him with astonishment. "Raphael, they are fine! My obstinate bride was not kidnapped, thank God." He shook his head. "But am I ever going to discipline her when I get my hands on her." The room exploded into laughter. He jumped up, vexed now, and Raphael followed suit. Lord Cheltham threw a glance to the barkeep. "She did not say where they were headed?" "I was too afraid to ask." A new bout of laughter burst out from the men who had been hanging on every word of their conversation. **** They had raced toward the border to Scotland to visit a woman whom Relief knew through written correspondence. Relief was hoping to impose upon her hospitality until she and Honora could decide in which country they would take temporary residence. For the present, they sat in a dry spot 327

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in a cave before a small campfire drying out and warming up. The rain had stopped. Excitement and adventure almost boiled over in Relief's blood. She felt connected to nature, in control, and free, and she inhaled very deeply of the crisp air, celebrating. Relief ran her hands over her long hair and twisted out the rain water. Honora was rubbing her little hands together rapidly in an attempt to circulate the blood-flow. "How much of your husband's money do you have in your reticule, Leafy?" She gave her sister a look to show she resented that. "I earn my own way, Honora. It is true that when I married him, everything I had became legally his, but the money on my person is what I earned taking out a lowlife on the streets. Raphael snatched a few guineas from a very bad man." "Sorry. Please tell me more about the plan." "Honora," she touched her hair sweetly. "My baby sister, you are so loyal to me." "Relief, there was no way I was going to let you have all the fun. I helped you escape, now tell me what's next." "I did not want to have to do this. I still had hope on the day I married him that I could make him see my point of view. I was wrong. He intends to use all of his husbandly and legal power to suppress me. He forced me into this." "You are the smartest woman I know. Using your connections as Raphael was a huge help. How much did you pay that man to meet us at the theater with the horses and supplies?" 328

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Relief shrugged. "I didn't. I beat him in a fight as Raphael, and I required my prize in that service." "You always think of such clever things. Whatever you have planned for the future will work." "Thank you." "And I feel safer with you than I would with an armed man." Relief grinned. "My teacher was good. He was a peaceful man. He taught me that killing was not necessary, but he did say I could maim if necessary." Honora scoffed and chuckled. Relief uttered a low chuckle herself. "Sister, after we relax in Scotland for a few days, we will disguise ourselves and travel. We will cross over to France and then maybe Italy. I have yet to decide. Maybe Germany?" "Or Austria?" "Or who knows? Wherever our fancy leads us." "What about money?" "Here's the good part, sweet Honora. You will continue to be my makeup artist. I will get part-time work as a guard so we have enough to live on." Her eyes were big. "That's the plan?" "Yes." "Adventure awaits!" She clapped her hand together in glee. "I thought you wanted a title." "So did I, Leafy. Being around your husband's lordly friends has taught me something. I do not want to live the life 329

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of an aristocrat if I am to be a prisoner in my husband's home. Why did I want a title anyway? With you I will get to dress as a different person, whomever I choose to be that day. It sounds beyond exciting to me." Relief touched her arm. "Are you sure, Honora? I could drop you off. You could go back." "No." "What about our family?" "I do not know, Leafy." Sadness clouded Honora's green eyes. "We will go to them someday. I should very much like to see them again." "I believe in you, Leafy." "I wouldn't have made it to this point without you, Honora." "Do you miss your husband?" Relief frowned and sat back. She said nothing, but her heart lurched when she brought his smiling face to mind. "Leafy?" "Honora, I'm in love with him. But I refuse to be repressed." "You are like a bird that needs to fly free." "I am. We have another problem." "What is it, Leafy?" "I am going to have to leave you in Scotland for a few days, maybe a week or two before we go to Italy or Vienna." "Why?"

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"There is a mad nobleman out there who will be hunting Benjamin. He will try to kill him for killing his partner. I will have to find him and stop him." Honora leaned forward. "Leafy, no. Your husband can handle him." "Not if he is taken by surprise. I cannot leave him to die. I will not." "Your husband will search the world for you." "Not if he thinks I'm dead." Honora sat back now, and her face grew pale. "Opera stories have given you an abundance of ideas." "I suppose they have." **** Lord Cheltham paced and cursed. He lightly tapped his head with the side of his pistol as he walked back and forth frantically in the entrance hall of the house the Moore sisters had shared before his marriage to Relief. The Moore family men stood back with their arms crossed, all looking very angry. Mr. Moore spoke up. "When I get my hands on Honora, she is coming back to America with me." Lord Cheltham gave him a nod. "When I get my hands on Relief—" "You have my blessing to beat her." Lord Cheltham stopped pacing. He threw him a look of surprise. Mr. Moore could guess what he was thinking. "On your wedding day, my lord, I could not see that she did anything 331

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wrong. I thought you were being a bully. But this stunt, sir, deserves to be dealt with harshly." "I have other ideas." "You're not going to hit her?" Daniel asked. Raphael narrowed his eyes and looked at his gun carefully. He blew on the barrel and polished it. He was composed and cool, and didn't say a word. Then a chuckle escaped his lips. Lord Cheltham glanced at him and frowned. "What is so funny?" "I would hit her. Our father is right. A woman should only receive her husband's hand when she has done something truly stupid. This goes beyond defiance." Lord Cheltham raised his brow. He studied the men of his wife's family. "He's too new and too lusty of a groom to do that," Daniel interjected. Lord Cheltham's brow rose higher. "I do not think his lordship is amused, boys," Mr. Moore said. "I am not." "The situation is slightly amusing," Daniel said. Lord Cheltham glanced at him with surprise. "How do you figure?" "Imagine two little flowers going into a rough tavern and turning it upside down." Lord Cheltham let out a light chuckle. "Your point has some merit." The others chuckled. 332

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He holstered his gun. "I do not know why I have this thing out. I had it in my mind that I was going to charge forth and save them from some evil oppressor. It seems that the bad men are afraid of them." Mr. Moore stepped forward. "Where could they be headed, my lord?" "I do not yet know, but one thing gives me comfort. I do not have to fear for the lives of either of the girls. I'm oddly and entirely grateful for that." "As am I," Mr. Moore said grudgingly. **** Honora and Relief plodded along with exhaustion through beautiful woods, over fields, and into a small village somewhere in the Highlands of Scotland. They heard the baah'ing of sheep then the voice of a shepherdess guiding them. "Git movin', ye cursed beasts! Always fond o stravaigan aboot!" Relief watched the woman, smiling. She looked up suddenly and dropped her stick. Relief approached her and curtseyed. Honora did as well. "Mary MacDonald?" "Aye?" "It's me, your friend by correspondence, Relief Moore, and this is my sister Honora." She smiled, and Relief returned it warmly. "We have traveled a long way." 333

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"And ye came to visit? I'm 'onored." She gave them a careful look. "Are ye hungry? Come to me home. I could put a nice stew o'er the fire," she said in a sprightly voice. "Could we impose?" Relief asked, gently. "Impose? 'Tis a most wonderful surprise, lass. Come." She wagged her hands briskly. "But what of your sheep?" Relief asked. "Oh, let my lazy brother Dougall deal with'm. It will do the lad some fine good!" she said in chipper tones, in obvious delight. They passed over the green countryside and wandered by a water pump. "There," their host pointed. Walking through a cobbled courtyard, they arrived at the entrance of a small thatched house with low ceilings and small windows. Miss MacDonald opened the rickety door. The room that greeted them was cozy, with scattered dark brown rugs lying over the stone floor. A large hearth took up most of the far wall, and the sparse, low furniture appeared practical but comfortable. Miss MacDonald bent and lit the fire then handed them mugs and poured some ale in them. She plopped herself down in front of them. "Now ladies, I hope to hear a story good enough for an opera!" Relief grinned and took a large swig of her drink. "Can you keep a secret, Miss MacDonald?" "Do you jest? Of course I can! And call me Mary." Honora gripped her mug, eyes lit with excitement. 334

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Relief chuckled. Mary poured her more ale. The three of them drank, and Relief told their story. An hour later, they laughed over drunken stupidities. Honora pointed to her sister's dress. "That color is not your best!" "Well Honora, you can't fight!" Honora laughed and punched her sister's arm. "That's stupid! I am not supposed to be able to fight, silly!" Mary took them by the shoulders and invited them to sing. The three women burst out laughing then Mary started them in an old Scottish drinking ballad. They listened for a verse, took their cue, they joined her for the next. Relief woke up next to Honora on the hard floor. She tossed off her heavy blanket and rubbed her eyes. Mary was stirring something in the large pot that hung over the fire. "Good morning, Mary!" "Good day to ye, lass." She got up and went over to Mary, taking a seat on the floor. They chatted then Relief helped her set the small table for the meal. After a couple of days of calm routine in which Relief and Honora helped Mary with her household tasks and her outdoor chores, including coaxing the stray sheep back into their pen, Relief knew she had to go. She hugged her sister and Mary, and then dressed as a man and, carrying a makeup bag and extra clothes of various types, rode south to find the man who wanted her husband dead.

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Twenty-three Relief wandered the squalid London neighborhood that she liked to haunt and took in a deep breath. "Ah the streets! How I have missed you!" No one recognized her. She looked nothing like Raphael Taylor. She tarried around the streets for a week, getting in fights and stopping crime and nonchalantly asked around trying to find information on the mysterious nobleman. **** Two weeks after the worst night of his life, when his wife disappeared, Lord Cheltham sat in his private office going over correspondence, but his mind wasn't on business matters. He flipped to another letter and inhaled sharply. The words about Raphael were scrolled over the envelope. Just as he tore open the note, his father-in-law walked into his study. The Moores would be staying at his home until they found the girls. "Good evening, my lord." Mr. Moore strode to his large desk with an anxious expression. "Is there news? Your expression tells me you've received something important!" Lord Cheltham dropped his gaze to the note in his hands and read with haste. He looked up at Mr. Moore. "Apparently there is a boy in town going around at night stopping criminals. He may know something." He jumped up, ran from the room, and called for a carriage to be brought out front. 336

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"I'm going," Mr. Moore demanded. "Of course." He knew Daniel and Raphael Moore were already out there searching still. Impatiently, he waited for the carriage, and then he and Mr. Moore were off with a snap of the reins. They found themselves walking around a boisterous neighborhood, under the dark of night. He asked around, talking to anyone he passed, and Mr. Moore did the same. Someone recognized him but was shocked to see him dressed so well. Lord Cheltham pulled out a shiny coin and placed it into the hand of the gangly adolescent boy. "Give me information, lad. Tell me what I want to know." "I am obliged to say it is not Raphael." "What?" he snapped. "Are you certain?" "And this boy is alone. I saw him go to his room. No one is ever with him. I've seen him switch where he stays. It's not Raphael." Lord Cheltham's shoulders dropped a notch. He looked to the ground. Mr. Moore questioned him as the boy ran off. "My lord?" "Sir, I miss her. I'll be fit for Bedlam if I don't see her again soon. I can not think with any efficiency on any subject while she's out there somewhere. I can not concentrate on anything." "Your anger has dissipated." "I was enraged. It has cooled. As of last week, I have just been heartbroken. I fear I may never see my beloved again." Mr. Moore said nothing. **** 337

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They did not notice that a little boy was standing three feet away listening. He ran off and entered a dirty little hole of a room with a tiny window. Relief watched her husband speak with her father. Benjamin appeared heartbroken, and her father seemed deeply upset. When Benjamin pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes, her eyes filled with tears. The pudgy-cheeked boy knocked on her door, and she pulled him inside. "What was said, lad?" she asked under cover of her boyish disguise. "Sir, he loves his wife. He misses her. It's driving him mad, and he thinks he'll be locked up on account of his grief." "Thank you for your services, lad." She handed him a few shillings. He nodded and darted off into the dark streets. "I will find the man who is after you, Benjamin. I love you so much." Tears rolled down her face as she watched her husband and father rumble down the street, looking forlorn. **** That night, she shifted back and forth beneath her sheets, unable to find comfort. She fluffed her pillow numerous times and even tried lying on floor. Nothing would soothe her agitation. Staring at the ceiling in the cold room for what seemed like hours, she came to a decision. She paid a street lad to rush a note to Lord Cheltham asking him to meet her alone that evening in Hyde Park. She 338

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pulled up in a rented carriage, praying that her makeup job was half as good as her sister's. She had spent all afternoon perfecting her disguise. When she pulled up next to his carriage, she was dressed as an older woman in old-fashioned clothes with a powdered wig. She upped her voice an octave and put on airs of pretension. "Lord Cheltham?" "Madam?" "How do you fair?" "Poorly, madam. Do you have something you wish to convey to me? A message perhaps?" he asked hopefully. "My lord, do you intend to punish her severely?" "What?" "Answer my question." "She deserves it." "Good day, my lord." She went to turn away. "Wait," he croaked out. She could hear the pain in his voice. She studied him and was pulled by love so great that it gnawed on her confidence that she could keep from throwing herself into his arms. His eyes shone with tears. "Please, madam, you know her well?" "Very well, my lord. I know about Raphael. You can be frank with me." "If you know anything, you will not be so unkind as to withhold information from me. I will pay you. I will pay you well." 339

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"How well?" "Anything." "Anything?" "I would give it all up." She didn't say anything. She was temporarily unsteadied. "Madam?" "Forgive me. That was the most romantic thing I have ever heard." He smiled sadly. "I am quite in love with my crazy wife." She scowled. "Crazy? I doubt that she is crazy." "She is, trust me." She frowned deeper. "But I do not care. I just want her in my arms." He let out a small sob, but coughed to fight it. "Oh God," he said with anguish. "I want my darling back!" His eyes were wet. "Maybe she fears a heavy hand." He closed his eyes a second and fisted his hands. "I give her concessions most men would not." "I find myself obliged to agree, my lord." His eyes came open. "Perhaps it is I who am crazy. Perhaps she has affected my mind," he mumbled with a disturbed little laugh. "My lord?" He shook his head. "Forgive me. I am not myself. I am lost. I want my beloved back." "You truly love her." "I would rather be with her on the streets of London Town doing crazy antics in the middle of the night than wonder where she is and if I will ever see her again. I actually 340

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dreamed about sitting with her as Raphael on the ground against a dirty little wall. We would talk all night sometimes. We were best friends. I would rather have that—" He muttered, not seeming to care that he was speaking to a stranger. Relief sat up straighter. "Do you mean that, my lord?" "Yes." She stepped down from the carriage. "We need to talk some more." He offered her his hand. "Madam." She looked into his eyes. He squinted. "Oh my God." She tried to pull away. He held her hand in a vice grip. "My lord?" "You're coming with me." "I'll scream." "Why don't you knock me senseless instead?" "W—What gives you the impression that I could do that? I am an old woman." "Since when is nineteen considered to be old?" Her breathing quickened. "My lord ... I ... I fear that you are mistaking me for someone else." "Where is Honora?" "Who?" "Your sister." She closed her eyes and spoke in her own voice. "Let me go." "Never." 341

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"I will kill myself." "Oh dear God." He pulled her into an embrace. She coughed because it was so tight. "I'm not going to take my eyes from you." She cursed in Italian. He sighed. Long seconds passed. "Benjamin, will you allow me some deep breathing now?" she squeaked out. He pulled away but grasped her arms. He squeezed her once again, and she coughed again. "The ton will think you are quite mad, embracing a woman more than twice your age." He laughed out loud then said cheerfully, "No, just eccentric! I know two men with mistresses many years their senior." Hesitantly she stepped up into his carriage with him. He pressed his lips to hers in an urgent kiss. Through the corner of her eye, she saw passersby stop to observe, then hurry along their way. Benjamin put his hand behind her neck and kissed her even deeper. An audible gasp of surprise and a comment about how mad he was came to their attention. He chuckled into her mouth. Pulling away, he gazed at her, his features shining with elation. "Relief, oh my wife! How I missed you!" "I missed you too," she admitted quietly. His eyes widened. "You did?" He squeezed her hand. "But now I fear—" His smile melted. "Let's not ruin the moment. We can talk later. For now, we need to go to your family. They are frantic." 342

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Her heart pounded, and her throat went dry during the ride to his house. They arrived at his townhouse. He gripped her hand, and she trembled. He stopped to face her in the driveway and studied her expression. "My love, they will be so happy to see you." "So angry, I dare say." "You're afraid." It was a soft statement. She didn't respond. He touched her arm. "I will support you, then you and I can settle it between ourselves later. I fear I am not only relieved beyond belief, but I myself tremble with anger." She attempted to rip her hand from his and failed. He led her to the front door. They entered his home, and after hugging each of her family members in the entrance hall, her father demanded to know where Honora was. He was going to drag her back to America and lock her up for ten years. Her mother stood silent and crying, and Daniel had an arm placed around their mother's shoulders in comfort. Raphael glowered at Relief in silence. Relief looked into her husband's eyes and begged him silently to intervene with her father. Tears streamed down her face. He took in a long, deep breath and faced his father-inlaw. "Sir, if you will allow me, I will go fetch the little chit myself and bring her back here. I will keep her and her sister under lock and key with guards." "I will punish her myself, my lord." Raphael cracked his knuckles, scowling. 343

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"Sir, with all due respect, Relief needs her." Raphael scoffed. Daniel leaned and whispered into their mother's ear then tapped her arm gently. "To do her makeup?" Her father said with cool anger. "She needs Honora because they are best friends. It would break my wife's heart to say goodbye to Honora. They have never been apart." Relief's heart lurched with love for her darling husband. "You are a lenient man." "I will discipline them both, sir." Her father said nothing for a full two minutes. Then he nodded his consent. As he left the room, taking his wife's hand in his, Relief's brothers began to question him. He silenced them with a gesture of his hand, and they followed him upstairs. Lord Cheltham turned around and faced Relief. "You are the most irresponsible little chit I have ever known! How could you, Relief? How could you hurt your family that way? How could you do this to me?" He gripped his own shirt over his heart, and his eyes blazed with fury, but pain. "You are angry, Benjamin." "I dare say you are most fortunate I would never beat you, Relief! It is my right to do so, only I would hate myself if I ever laid a hand on you that way. When I knocked you out as Raphael—" he sighed, deeply regretful. "Your right..." she said sadly. "I did not marry to be under a man's control." "Then why did you marry, Relief? Pray tell, I must know!" he spat out. 344

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"You coerced me," she said with such resignation, that he did not stop her when she walked out of the hall. "You are not to leave this house. I'll have guards at the entrances and exits." "Do not worry, my lord. I am only going to our chambers. I fear I am quite tired." "Tell me where Honora is." "I will. Shortly." With slumped shoulders, she headed for the stairs. For days, she grew more and more depressed. He became concerned. He came to her and sat down beside her in their chambers and laid a gentle hand over hers. "Relief, we must go fetch Honora. She must be frantic with worry about you." She looked into his eyes as her heart thumped with sadness. "It would be better than to receive your punishment." "Relief, would you have preferred that she goes back to America to be locked up for ten years? We must bring Honora home." She nodded, having no idea what to say to him. All the way to Scotland, she kept her silence. He frowned the entire time and tried to comfort her in his arms. She remained limp at his touch. When they pulled up to Mary's cottage, Honora ran out, and her smile turned into a frown. She turned on her heel and ran toward a patch of trees in the distance.

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"Miss Moore!" Lord Cheltham shouted. He turned to Relief. "Go fetch her, will you? And don't try to escape! I will find you on horseback." Relief sighed and jumped down from the coach. She ran after Honora calling out to her and found her panting for breath, leaning against a tree. Honora quivered. "What ... what happened?" Relief pulled her into a hug. "I will explain, sweetheart, but we must leave now to go home." "I ... don't understand!" "Don't be afraid. We have each other." She released her from the hug then took her hand. They walked to the cottage. Lord Cheltham looked at Honora with sadness. "I was worried about you, Miss Moore. You had me sick with it. Thank God you are well." Honora tore her gaze from his and allowed Relief to lead her into Mary's home. "We will gather our things, my lord," Relief said to her husband. He followed them in and watched them pack in silence. Relief wrote a thank you note explaining things to Mary who was currently out, gathering her lazy brother's sheep. She dropped some coins onto it. On the way home, she said nothing either. They arrived at the townhouse, and Lord Cheltham ordered dinner to be served. They sat at the table, and neither girl would eat. The next morning at breakfast, Honora remained in bed, and Relief still refused to eat. Lord Cheltham gazed at her with deep concern. 346

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"My love, your gowns hang on you. Please eat." She shook her head. He stood up abruptly. "I force fed you before, remember when you were dying? And I'll do it again." She clamored for her spoon and ate a bite of oatmeal. He fell back into his chair. When not even half of her food was gone, she put her spoon down. "Do you not like it?" "It's delicious, my lord, just how cook knows I like it." "Then finish it." "I fear if I eat another bite, I won't be able to hold it down." He said nothing, only studied her with unhappy eyes. Hours later, she stared at her tea cup, seeing nothing. Honora did the same. He entered the salon and glanced at the silver tray of biscuits, and the untouched tea. "Ladies, you love tea." Relief brought her tired eyes to his. He stepped back. "Relief, you're pallid. Are you unwell?" She stood and had a dizzy spell. She stumbled, and he caught her by the arm, helping her to sit. He sat across from her and slid his fingers over her jaw. "Relief?" She dropped her gaze. "I'm fine, my lord." "You are not fine." He glanced at Honora. "And neither are you." He brought his attention back to Relief. "What can I do?" She brought tear-blurred eyes to his. "You know." He leaned back and shook his head. "Don't ask that." **** 347

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He came into his and Relief's bed chambers that night and sat next to her on the bed facing her. "My love, I'm very worried about you. You never talk, you barely eat, and you appear ill." She shrugged. "Relief?" She sighed. "I'm done." He grasped her hands. "I beg you, let me help you." "I'm slowly dying." "Oh my God, Relief, do not speak so." "You have defeated me, my lord." He went pale. He tried to persuade her to accept some invitations for teas and parties. He'd even host a special one for her, and she could sing as Honora played the pianoforte. She shook her head and lie back, staring at the ceiling. On the fifth evening after more of the same, Relief went to their chambers and sat on their bed staring at the wall. Her husband entered the room, crouched down, and took one of her hands in his. She moved her other hand, and her wedding ring slid off onto the floor. He frowned, picked it up, and slid it back onto her limp finger. "You're too thin. I'm afraid for you. Will you not eat more, for the sake of your family, if not for me? Then I can send them a letter assuring them of your good health." She looked at him, and the distress of defeat held her motionless. "I could, but it wouldn't stay down. I've tried." "Relief," he whispered in the most gentle, tender voice she had ever heard. "Ah my beautiful wife." Terrible sadness 348

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laced his eyes. "Relief, this is killing me. I love you, darling. I want what's best for you. Relief, please, live again." Breathing shallowly and with a heavy heart, she thought of being vanquished. Her bottom lip quivered. "It is impossible for half a person, my lord." "Half a person?" "Aye, my lord." "You do not want to be here?" He looked down as he spoke his words with devastation in his voice. "Nay, my lord." "I forced you into this marriage." "Aye, my lord." He gazed at her for an elongated moment, inhaled deeply, then stood up, agonizingly slow. "I release you." He slid his hands from hers, and their fingertips touched before her hands fell to her lap. She squinted, analyzing his face carefully. Her heart sped up and pounded. Could it be? "Benjamin?" "Go be happy, Relief."

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Twenty-four She stood up slowly, almost dizzy with the truth of what was happening. Was he serious? "Benjamin, what are you saying?" He closed his eyes. She waited. They came open again, and he regarded her as if trying to keep a tight control of his actions. "Go, go before I change my mind and lock you up forever. I ask just one favor, and you're brilliant enough to pull this off." She listened with apprehension. "Please, my love, let's not make this public. Might you keep this situation from others?" Her stomach turned, and shivers of sadness at leaving him fluttered over her skin, giving her goose bumps. She nodded. "Your eyes—" he paused then began again. "They're so, passionate. You look right through me, Relief." With shaky steps, she crossed over to her wardrobe and took out a large pile of her gowns and put them into a bag resting on the floor, a bag she had kept there, fantasizing about leaving. She reached into the back of the wardrobe and found her black bag resting behind a blanket. Her boyish clothes. When she had a bag on each shoulder, she walked by her husband. He watched her, unmoving. She gulped tears down her tight throat and went straight to Honora's room. She helped her pack quickly. She took her sister by the arm, dragged her down the stairs, and toward 350

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the front door. He was waiting there. She stopped and faced him, inches away. He swallowed hard and gazed at her in pleading. "Don't go." It was a request. She shuddered, and her love for him nearly kept her there. "I'm eternally sorry, Benjamin." She placed a hand behind his head and drew him near, whispering into his ear. "I'd die for you." She pulled away and couldn't bear to look into his face. They went straight to the house they used to share. It would be put up for rent shortly. They slipped inside, and disguised themselves, she as an old matron, and Honora as a different young woman, her widowed daughter. They would rent a small home on the other end of town as two strangers new to town so as not to embarrass her husband. Once settled in their tiny new abode, they dressed up for the opera, needing the amusement. Relief realized that she appeared as the old woman who had met Benjamin in Hyde Park. Her heart hung heavy. She missed him desperately. They arrived at the theatre and took their seats. She was hoping the performance would take her mind off the painful thudding of her heart, bring her thoughts away from her husband, but it didn't. She jumped up from her seat. Honora, in her altered voice, questioned her. "Mother?" "Stay here, Katrina. I need some air." Honora nodded and returned her attention to the performance. Relief rushed to the reception area, gulping for fresh air, holding her stomach. This was madness. She couldn't be with him, and she couldn't be without him. She 351

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inhaled deeply through her nose and straightened her spine, resolving to appreciate her freedom. A very handsome older man dressed finely as a nobleman turned his head and noticed her from across the room. His gray hair was pulled elegantly back. He approached her and bowed. "Pardon me, Madam. You are new to town?" His accent is Italian. "Yes. I'm widowed, here with my young widowed daughter." He tipped his head once. "I am sorry." She curtseyed. "Thank you." "Pray, Madam, do you have an escort?" She smiled. "I am an old woman and do not require one." "But you are widowed." "Yes." "And beautiful. My wife died ten years ago." "You do not want a young wife?" She lifted her chin boldly. "No, Madam. My children are grown. If you might excuse me, you see, I am new to London myself. Please allow me to say, if I should not offend you, you have the most enchanting smile I have ever encountered." She blinked in astonishment. **** Lord Cheltham sat in his theater seat rigid, his longing heart on Relief. What is she doing right now? Is she safe? Is she happy? I wonder which gown she's wearing, or which ... trousers. Did 352

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she stop a crime? Is she eating enough? Is she smiling again? Does she miss me? The image of Relief in her white gown standing down below by the stage, being shot, the picture of her gown turning red with her blood, came to mind, and he whipped his gaze away, unable to look down there a moment longer. To his disgust, he saw his cousin Mary being escorted by Lord Hawksworth. He shook his head at a complete loss of understanding women. "Women. They all hate me," he said surprised at the irony, remembering when he once bragged that women loved him. He stood up in his agitation and made his way to the reception area. Relief's voice floated towards him. He recognized her costume. Even as an older woman, she was extremely lovely, and she was talking to a handsome, older nobleman who watched her with intent interest, chuckling softly at her jokes. He returned the chatter in elegant Italian tones. Relief's expression said she was relaxed and charmed. Lord Cheltham inhaled deeply, heated by anger, torn ragged inside with jealousy. It flared in currents, ripping through him. He strode to her and looked straight into her face. "Madam." She curtseyed slowly. The gentleman speaking with her looked stunned. "Excuse me, my lord," he said, looking over Lord Cheltham's appearance. "But you might be interested in her daughter instead. This lovely woman here is twenty, perhaps five and twenty years older than you." "That doesn't matter to a man in love." 353

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His eyes widened. "In love?" He glanced at Relief then back at him. "You are my rival?" he exclaimed, excused himself, then left, striding back to take his seat in the theatre. "Who was that?" "It cannot concern you." "Tell me." "A friend." He rolled his eyes. "Another obsessed man. They are all in love with you." "As I recall, Lord Cheltham, you were once obsessed with me, in love with me." "I still am." "Obsessed?" "Both." "You cannot suppose me to believe you are no less dangerous than any of these other men? Only now, my lord, I once again feel free to exercise my talent to protect myself. I am safer without you." As soon as she said that, he could see that she wanted to eat those words. The stricken look on her face showed her regret of those cruel words. "Benjamin, I'm sorry. I did not mean that." "You did." "Let me be Raphael." "No!" he snapped. "Forget it! Never while we share the same roof!" Tears glistened in her eyes. "Good evening, my lord." She stepped past him. He grabbed her arm. "Relief." 354

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"Let me go." He released his grasp of her and watched her make her way back to the performance. He strode out of the theatre and went home, jealous, tortured thoughts raining down on him. **** He could not permit her to rove the streets alone. He would be out there too, watching, and he would jump in and help her if he felt even mildly worried about her well-being. He heard two men lost in their cups discussing with much pride how Raphael was back. They described how the lad had never been better. They talked about how he saved the day. He had climbed to the top of a bridge and saved a small child. Raphael lowered the child then slipped. Everyone watching had been worried as he fell and slammed into the ground, not moving at first. Then he jumped up and dusted himself off. "No worries!" he shouted, and a crowd cried out for him, cheering, "Hurrah!" Raphael sang and drank and danced around a bonfire all night long, singing songs of freedom. Lord Cheltham walked, downcast, kicking imaginary objects every so often along his path. He was torn. He imagined Relief on their wedding day, loving him. He recalled vividly her animated face as she was asked if she would be his wife, and she answered with gusto, "Oh my God, yes!" She told him that it was the happiest and the scariest day of her life. He then remembered her lying on the ground about to have a dagger slammed into her heart. He imagined her blood 355

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wetting the ground and staining his boots red. She was trying, actually trying to die for him. "My God, she loves me." He was stricken. "What am I doing to her?" He almost decided to give her what she wanted, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. The thought of her out late in the city's most dangerous neighborhood terrified him, whether she could fight or not. If she were living with him as his wife, he just didn't think he could ever accept it. But he remembered her sad face. He couldn't live with himself taking that from her a moment longer, so he had let her go. He was miserable, but he now knew that sometimes that was the price for having the deepest love for someone. He roamed the streets at night to keep up with the latest news about Raphael. One day he was out and about town. He saw Honora with another young woman, apparently a friend of some sort. He approached her. "Miss Moore?" "My lord." "Where is your sister?" "Raphael had some news on the mysterious nobleman. She is following up on it. She urged me to go out and make friends, so here I am." "She had information? What kind?" "I do not yet know, my lord. I will send you a note when I hear anything." "Please do." **** 356

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That night he went out on the streets again, searching for Relief as Raphael. He saw her and approached her. "Relief." She turned around. "Benjamin." "We need to talk." She backed away. "You are not going to take me?" "No," he said sadly. "About your information—" "Honora told me she saw you." "What have you found out?" "The man is still in London." "Oh?" "And he still plans to kill you." He frowned. "How do you know this?" "I found him today, but he got away." Lord Cheltham grabbed her arms. "Relief, are you injured?" he asked frantically. "Only mildly." "Relief!" She tried to pull back. "Relief, what happened?" "It's only a few bruises." "A few bruises? I should not have you suffer those!" "It is unimportant!" she snapped, her temper flaring. "I will apprise you of the situation soon, my lord. Trust me that I cannot speak of it yet." "Speak to me, damn it!" "You are keeping me from important business!" "What important business?" 357

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"A lad has informed me that a friend of mine is currently being harassed and needs help." "I will join you." "Fine, but let me go!" He released his grip of her arms and she darted off. He ran after her. They saw a crowd and pushed their way through it. The crowd was hushed, looking down at a boy of fifteen lying still, bleeding from the mouth. Relief stopped in her tracks, momentarily. Hesitantly she stepped forward and crouched to the ground. She placed the boy's head in her lap, and Lord Cheltham saw her fighting valiantly not to let her tears flow. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. "I could have stopped this," she said rawly. "Oh my God, this is my fault." Lord Cheltham crouched down and placed a soft hand on her shoulder. She shoved it off. People were staring. "Raphael, this is not your fault. You can not possibly stop every crime on the streets of this town!" She turned her head and glared at him. "I could have stopped this one, damn you!" "I'm sorry, Raphael. I'm truly sorry." "Are you, or do you wish I were locked up instead?" This hurt him, and she knew it. "I truly regret that you were not here to stop this hideous crime." She looked into his face with glistening eyes. "You are the best fighter I have ever known, Raphael." "Four men did this to him, over a misunderstanding. I could have knocked them all out." 358

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"With ease." She lifted her brow and managed a smile from the corner of her mouth. It was devastating. He leaned and whispered to her. "Smile like a man, or I will pull you into a kiss right this minute." Her eyes grew wide. She turned and nodded to a couple of big men. They came over and picked up the boy. She rubbed her eye, and he knew she was fighting tears. He placed an arm over her shoulders in a chummy way. He had done this numerous times before, but knowing now this was his wife felt plain strange. However, they had an audience. "Raph, my boy, allow me to soothe some of your troubles. Let's go get deboshed. We can find the men who did this on the morrow. You're too angry now, and I'm afraid you'll kill them. You don't want that, do you?" She gazed at him then nodded. "All right, Cheltham." They walked down the road until they came across a rundown inn, known for it's cheap, but acceptable liquor. They stepped inside and took a seat then proceeded to order drink after drink. The first one was bizarre to Lord Cheltham. He was going to get drunk with his wife. He shook it off and slammed his drink down. After she had two, she swayed in her seat. "You're a fine fellow, Cheltham." "Thanks, lad." "And if I were a woman, I'd marry you." He gulped down the next drink, gripping his beer mug.

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They continued to drink, and then she belted out a sailor song. By now, he was just as drunk and lifted his mug to her. "To my best friend." She stopped singing and smirked. "Give me the twelfth kiss, Relief." "Allow me to be Raphael." "Not as my wife. I'm sorry. I just—" he hiccupped. "Can not." She shook her head. "Relief?" "What is it, yer great lordship?" she said, slurred. He stood, holding her arm by the elbow, looking into her face for a long time. "Cheltham?" She gazed up from her seat. "Relief," he stumbled then caught his balance. "I'm struggling with this, our situ—ation." "So end yer struggle. You want to be with me?" He took her little hand, crouched down, and pressed her fingers to his chest, above his heart. "Do you feel this?" "It beats ster-ON-gly," she said, drunkenly. He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear it. Focusing intently, he managed to speak his mind. "Please, wife, do not do this to me. Come home. I will bring you on different adventures. We could travel together." She shook her head. "What will it take?" "You have that answer, highness." She hiccupped now. "It's not one I can live with." 360

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She took both hands and pressed them to the cracked wooden tabletop, inhaling deeply, and gathering her wits. She brought serious eyes to his. "That is yer problem, unless you wish to drain the life from me, drag me home and kill who I am." "Why Relief? Why do you need to be a boy?" "I do not need to be a boy! I just need to be who I am!" He stood there, unable to respond. **** All night she thought about his comment about being a boy. Then she made a decision. As a female running around wild, she could easily end up in Bedlam, unless she approached this the right way. It would take some serious consideration, and even more luck, but she was willing to try. **** The next night, when Lord Cheltham was out on the streets in search of her, which he did on a regular basis to ease his heart, he could not find her. He asked about Raphael. Oddly, everyone he inquired gave him a strange look and walked away. He could not figure it out. When he saw a young girl crying in the gutter, he went to her. "Miss? What is the matter?" "It's my friend. He's been fatally hurt." "Oh, my dear. I am so sorry. What has happened?" She looked up at him with anguish in her eyes. "He was a hero. He helped out so many people." 361

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Lord Cheltham's back stiffened. "Please go on." "It was a terrible thing. He was ambushed." "What ... was your friend's name?" His heart began to bang in his chest. "Raphael." "How, when, where? Oh my God." The girl threw herself into his arms. "I do not know." "What do you mean?" "I did not see it. I heard others speak of it. No one actually saw it though. One person spoke of it, and the news spread." Lord Cheltham felt wobbly. "Saints in heaven, we have another hero!" someone from a group of five people ran past them yelling. He ran after the group, a sinking feeling in his stomach telling him it was the right thing to do. He nearly ran into the group when they stopped abruptly. A girl with wavy blond hair tied back, male breeches laced at the crotch, a loose, flowing shirt, and small masculine boots was engaged in a fight with a street punk. Lord Cheltham covered his face with his hands. "Oh lord." When the girl was successful at making her twice bigger opponent eat dirt, she threw her arms up into the air. The group could not help themselves. They applauded. Her smile lit up the entire surrounding area. "For Raphael!" she shouted. "For Raphael!" they returned. "I am his sister, and I have avenged him! I will go after the others as well, though do not expect me to kill anyone. I 362

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will just hammer them senseless over and over again!" She laughed. "Oh Lord," Lord Cheltham said again. Then she noticed him.

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Twenty-five She walked up to him, grinning with satisfaction. "I have no need to be a boy, my lord. As you can see, I have thought my way out of that predicament. Though truth be told, it was quite a risk. I had to prove myself in my female form. These are my people. I help them. They love me, so I took the chance and have obviously succeeded." Laughter spilled from her lips. She stilled it. "Therefore, they won't have me locked away!" Her hands came to her hips. "Relief, you go beyond incredible." He was so grateful she was alive. She gave him her devastating smile. He yanked her into a passionate kiss, aroused. Leaning away and gazing into her eyes, he said, "I warned you not to do that." "Do what?" "Smile like that. It inflames me, Relief. Dear God, woman, how long are you going to punish me? Give me the twelfth kiss!" Gripped in the throes of desire, burning from head to toe with wanting her, he demanded, "Damn it Relief, please!" She lifted her impertinent, pretty little chin into the air and marched past him. "Good evening, my lord." He sighed in deep frustration. **** "Honora, I saw my husband." "And?" 364

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"I want to give him that kiss. He is so handsome and valiant in his street-clothes with his dagger strapped to his side, under his jacket, ready to defend a stranger at a moment's notice." "You have no doubt that he would do that?" "None. He has become the hero I was seeking, Honora. I heard that just a day ago he came to the rescue of a young man who was being threatened by a ruffian promising to kill him with his bare hands. Benjamin slammed the big one in the face with his fist and rendered him insensible. He knows just where to hit." She rubbed her jaw over the spot he had hit her, and she remembered his talent with pride. "He seeks his own adventure now." "He really admired Raphael—I mean me." "He's changing, Leafy." She inclined her head and stared at her feet sadly then nodded. "Yes. He does not act like other noblemen of this day and age." "He pursues meaningful causes now, not just entertainment. Even without Raphael's company." "Yes." "Leafy, I find it interesting." "What?" "You change dialect and sometimes even languages when you speak." "I've been slipping, lately. I must be careful." "Leafy, you are not the same. Your husband has your head all in a whirl." "I love him with all of my heart, Honora." 365

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"Did you tell him about the man who's after him?" "I'm not sure that I should. The disturbing news would sadden him. If he knew who wanted him dead, he'd be hurt." Honora placed a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder. Relief covered it with her own. "What would I do without you, Honora?" "Your husband knew you needed me and urged Father to let us stay together." "I have no doubt that you would be bound for America now if it were not for him." "I never wanted to venture far from you, Leafy." "I am hoping that you and I will be neighbors someday, living with our hero husbands." "Not our aristocratic husbands?" "No." She grinned sweetly. "I do not believe they would be adventurous or fun enough for the two of us. Of course I could be wrong." "Benjamin's title—" "I do not believe, Leafy, since the moment he became your man that he has given one little damn about that. He has eyes only for you." "Honora, you cursed!" She smiled. "So I did!" They giggled together before being distracted by the knock at the door. They rushed to answer it. When Relief swung it open, she froze in place. Her husband stared back at her, looking dashing and ready for adventure. His clothes were haphazard. His shirt was loose, his breeches tight, his hair windblown. 366

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"Benjamin, where have you been?" Her heart sped up with desire. "May I come in?" His expression was troubled. She took his arms and pulled him inside. He grasped her arms then pulled her into a hug. "Oh Relief, how I miss you." "Benjamin, I only wish that we could come to an understanding." "So do I. I wish with all of my strength that I could handle the situation that you seek. I cannot accept it, hard as I may try." "Then why did you let me go? Why are you not forcing your will upon me as is your legal right?" "Because I have true love for you, Relief. I told you I would prove it." "And so you have," she muttered, and looked at him with reverence. She gave him the grin that she knew knocked him off of his feet and brought her hand to his cheek. She softly fingered a loose strand of hair hanging there. "It seems you are not just another obsessed man. You are the twentieth man to ever ask for my hand, Benjamin." He pulled away and gave her a shocked look. "Your mouth is hanging open, my lord." He promptly closed it. Honora laughed. "Hmm, I have only received four. None of them were my type." Relief gave her sister a sweet look. "At least sixteen of my proposals were due to my being the first daughter, Honora. We are on even ground otherwise."

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Lord Cheltham smiled. "You two must never be apart. You are wonderful together. Honora, we will have to find you a man who is willing to marry you and live next door to us." Relief and Honora turned their heads and gave each other a look of surprise. "What did I say?" Relief smiled. "Keep smiling like that Relief, and I will touch you in a way to inspire you give me the most lustful kiss of your life, and then I will—" "Benjamin," Relief smiled. "I was not intending on giving my sister that kind of information until the night before her wedding." He laughed. "May I escort you for a ride, Relief?" "Yes," she said. "Put on a mask. It's not necessary to go in total disguise, but you might be seen with a rogue like me. We don't want you to be recognized." Relief went to her room and returned with her chosen mask. She accepted his outstretched arm. Outside, under the starry night sky, he slipped a hand under his jacket and retrieved his own mask. "They must not know it's me." He grinned. They walked and approached a hackney-coach, led by horses with sagging heads and flimsy manes and tales. The dirty vehicle was big and lumbering, and a dingy yellow with small glasses and large frames. On the panels, Relief could see a faded coat of arms. 368

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"Wise decision. A nobleman would not ride in this. Those poor horses. My beauty's mane shines with good health." Relief said under her breath. "I paid the coachman extra to just drive and not stop." They stepped inside and sat on the straw-stuffed canvas cushion of the seat. The coachman snapped his whip, and they were off. "Benjamin, what happened before you came to my door?" "Someone tried to shoot me." "What?" she screeched. "Benjamin?" "I was not hit." "Obviously, but—" "Do not worry. I will be more alert from now on. If I had not bent down to pick something up at that moment, you would have been a widow." Her eyes burned with tears. She grabbed his hand. "Benjamin." He patted her hand. "I was nowhere near a carriage. He was and dashed off." "I must know more. We must come up with a plan to take him down." He gave her a look of great interest. "You realize wife, that this situation is incredibly odd to me?" "Oh?" "Yes. I respect you like I would a man of the highest degree of talent. I am talking with you as I would a business partner, but I want desperately to make love to you." Her cheeks heated as desire rushed her, and her breathing quickened. She fanned herself. 369

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"You are such a lovely woman, Relief." "You are now the hottest topic of discussion among the members of the ton, or so I have overheard." "What do I care?" "You might have cared before." "Perhaps a little. Conceivably I am now missing something in my upper chambers as my mad wife is. Maybe a small table or just a little couch." Relief punched his arm and chuckled. "Benjamin! I am not crazy, I am just not boring!" "That is a grand understatement, Lady Cheltham." Her heart melted. "That means that I am your woman." He took her hand, saying nothing more. She closed her eyes and sighed with the deepest of regret. "Benjamin, I think that maybe you should escort me back home." Her eyes fluttered open. He frowned. "Why, Relief?" "My lord, I am a woman after all, and your charm is overcoming me." "And my good looks?" he quipped. She touched his face again. "I cannot be your woman, my lord." "Please refer to me as Benjamin or my love." "Benjamin—" "Your voice is so sweet. I dream of it." "Benjamin." He nodded grimly. "Yes." He rubbed his face in frustration. "Let's talk of something less provocative." "Agreed." 370

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"What do you know about this man who is trying to kill me?" He laced his fingers together and rested his hands in his lap. She hesitated. "Relief? Tell me!" "Benjamin, I—" "Tell me, Relief." "I ... I suspect that he might be a relative of yours." "What?" he snapped. "That is not possible!" "I was in disguise. I was walking about town looking for clues, a word, a rumor, anything." "And?" He leaned closer. "I saw a nobleman wearing a wig and doing business with a ruffian. I hid nearby and watched. He was trying to buy a pistol." "Go on." "I knew he had to be the man I was looking for. I heard him tell the man that he had to eliminate a real problem in his life. I followed him. Finally, I jumped him from behind. He put up a good fight." "He had a weapon! You could have been killed!" "In Asia, I learned how to disarm an opponent." "Maybe you can disarm a man with that smile of yours, Relief, but I do not see how you could take a weapon from a man!" "It's possible!" "How?" "I practiced with wooden pistols." 371

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"So what you are telling me is that you never actually did this with a real weapon?" "I was great at it in my practice. I figured that it was the right time to use the skills I had learned." "Dash it, Relief, you are going to be a widow anyway. You are going to kill me with worry." "Oh, Benjamin, get it out of your head that I am less competent than a man simply because I am a woman!" "You are more competent than any man I have ever known in my life." "Then what is the problem?" "You are a woman." "Benjamin," she scoffed. He raised his brow. "Would you coddle a boy?" "No, I would encourage him to go out and be a man. I will encourage our sons to engage in a fight or two to learn how to take a hit." "Then why coddle me? Isn't it best that I also know how to take a hit?" "No!" He chuckled. "It is not necessary in the least degree!" She crossed her arms. He laughed. "My mad wife." She glared at him.

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Twenty-six His fingers caressed her arm, and sensual shivers crossed her skin, making their way to the pit of her stomach. His eyes flickered with regret. "I'm sorry, Relief. I was not trying to insult you. Let's finish what we were discussing. What happened with the fight?" "He aimed his pistol at me. But he was stupid, hah! He was too close-the fool!" She shook her head. "I did a spinning back kick, right against his forearm, and the pistol went flying! It was glorious!" She clasped her hands together. "Relief, I forbid you to ever try anything like that again!" "But I was successful and—" He held up his hand. "Never mind." He sighed. "What happened next?" "I kicked him in the thigh, and he toppled over, but he was fast, Benjamin, and recovered quickly, jumping up and landing a good blow to my chest. I tumbled backwards but caught my balance and ran after him. I would have had him too, had not that little girl screamed my name, begging me to come with her. Her brother was taking a major beating, and she feared for his life, so I went." His gaze dropped, and his lips parted. She gathered her shawl closer around her covering her skin. He lifted a hand to remove it, but she pulled away. "Relief, let me see. Are you bruised? I have a right to know." 373

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She sighed and grudgingly opened the flaps of the shawl. He frowned and brought hovering fingers over a purplish bruise. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Does it hurt much?" "No." She chuckled. "This is minor." He leaned and placed the softest kiss over her flesh, then retook his seated position. "So why do you venture to think that he is a relative of mine?" "A pin fell from his clothes. It had your family crest on it, the eagle with a rose in its talons." "Oh?" "Who exactly in your family owns one, Benjamin, and wears it around?" He sighed. "My father had three younger brothers. How old was this man that you dealt with?" "He was old enough to be an uncle, a very healthy uncle." "I see. All the men in my family were sportsmen, but—" "Benjamin, where are your parents?" "Traveling." "They were not at our wedding." "Please do not ask me to discuss that." "What are you hiding from me, Benjamin?" "You are one to talk about hiding things, Relief." "Talk to me." "We do not get on well. Is that what you wanted to hear?" "No." "I almost killed their daughter." She nodded.

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"Joan forgave me after several years of being a good, deeply regretful brother. Our parents, however, never forgave me. I never forgave myself." "I'm sorry. Benjamin, how would anyone in your family come to know my pursuer from Asia?" "They travel often." "All of them?" "Two of my uncles journeyed to compete in fights. My parents have been traveling to get away from my detestable presence. It seems that they do not even want to be in the same country as I am in for long." "I am so sorry." "So am I." "Has anyone in your family ever been to Asia?" "It is possible. I do not know." She was intently focused on this conversation, trying to unravel the mystery. "My harasser had traveled all over Europe. I would not be surprised if he competed in many fights. He reveled in it, especially if the fights were to the death. He had a mild limp and he never forgave my teacher because it tarnished his perfect record, the one that permitted him to be the most feared fighter of his country. But even with the injury, he could still combat in a most vicious manner." "I have one uncle who would compete in underground fights, the kind without rules or consequences." "Could it be him?" "No." "Why not?" 375

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"He died in one of those fights, some time ago." "Did he speak often with your father?" "Of all the siblings, those two were closest. They communicated often." "Now we are making some progress. Benjamin, your cousin—" "The Marquess?" "Yes. He would inherit your title if you died." He chuckled. "He has no need for it, his title being even greater than my father's." She touched her chest. "Oh, course!" She shook her head. "Your English titles." She grinned. "He'd have to be your mother's nephew." "Yes." "But, don't you have male cousins on your father's side?" "One uncle never married, and never had children. Actually, Relief, he disgraced himself. He committed a high crime and fled the country." He looked briefly at the floor of the carriage then back at her. "That's why my father is such a stickler for proper behavior and decorum. He thinks I'm a disgrace." She blinked away tears of sadness for him, and held her tongue, spellbound. He continued. "The other uncle died fighting Napoleon. He left a child. Mary is my only paternal cousin, and she ran away with that outcast Hawksworth. My mother's nephew is my closest male relative after my father. A century ago, the families of both my parents were connected by blood. My parents are cousins many times removed. So you can see 376

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how my cousin would inherit the title, if he didn't look down his imperial nose at a mere Earl." His face registered unhappiness. She touched his arm. "Benjamin, my love, I am so sorry." He pulled her into the circle of his arms and pressed his mouth over hers, demanding her love, his tongue caressing hers sensuously. Mesmerized by his touch, she quivered under the grip of his possessive hands. She surrendered to her building passion, and then at last, he pulled away. "Darling," her breath came out in a whisper. He sighed. "Wife." His intense gaze bore into hers. She gulped and lowered her eyes to study her trembling hands. Her breathing was ragged. She fisted her hands, did a silent meditation, and then lifted her eyes to her husband's. "Benjamin, some time ago your uncle had to have made the acquaintance of the man who pursued me." "They saw a benefit in joining forces." "You could be an easier target if you were going after my killer. We made things tremendously easy and clear to them by falling in love and becoming a couple." "This all means that someone in my family wants me dead, Relief." He placed his elbows on his knees, and his face propped in his hands. Her heart throbbed with sad anger for him. She wanted to kill someone for doing this to him. She paused. Killing is evil. Not kill, just knock senseless. "I know. It is no wonder that my would-be killer wanted you to see him drain the life from me. He knew it would enrage you. Angry people do not think 377

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as clearly. Angry people make mistakes. You would try to find him. You would eventually be careless, and he could hand you over to his partner. Perhaps his partner offered him a great deal of money to ruffle your feathers for him." "It all makes sense." "It was in Asia." She turned and looked out the window at the dark streets, but the people walking along did not capture her attention. Dreamily, she went back into the past. "My holy man saw my temper. He taught me not to act on it. He told me that if I did not learn to control my thoughts, I would end up killing someone in anger someday. He said that I had the talent to do it. I learned to restrain myself, but I still feel bits of temper." "That's why you let that highwayman go." She just gave him a long look. "What are you not telling me, Relief?" "Perhaps I was wrong. He had hurt your driver, but I knew that if I turned him in, I would be sending him to his death. I am deeply conflicted in situations like that. I only render them senseless, even dangerous ones because I know that I could kill them. Am I wrong?" "I choose not to answer that, Relief." "Benjamin?" "I will not answer that question." After a long pause, she glanced back out the window of the moving vehicle. A boy led a small girl by the hand—his sister? Relief recalled Joan, and apprehension tightened her stomach. She curled her fingers tightly. "My Lord?" "Yes?" 378

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"I heard from the guard following Joan." He leaned forward and took her hands in his. "Tell me," he breathed out, anxiously. "Oh, Benjamin, you have been hurt enough this day." He squeezed her hands. "Now, I demand to know!" "She's very happy." He gave her a frown. "And this is supposed to hurt me?" "Not that. What she said to tell you." "What would that be?" He braced himself, lengthening his spine, watching her intently, and seeming to hold his breath. "To go to the devil." He looked into her eyes for a long moment. That last statement appeared to hit him, draining the blood from his face, as painful as a punch to his stomach. His eyes revealed his pain. He cleared his throat. "Please elaborate." "Benjamin." Tears burned her eyes. She lifted a gentle hand to his cheek and cupped it. "She never did forgive you. She only pretended. She hates your parents as well. She said that they stole her. If they had truly loved her, they would have at least showed up to the wedding that they were trying to force upon her. She said that they did it for their own purposes and deuce it if it were the way of things." He closed his eyes and lowered his chin. She pulled his head to her breast and held him there. His face was warm against the exposed skin of her neckline. Before she knew it, he placed a soft kiss there. And then another, and another. It became more urgent. He worked his way up to her neck. She threw her head back and sighed. 379

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Relief looked at her husband and touched the back of his head, and whispered in a sultry voice into his ear. "Benjamin, I fear that if you were to lift my dress right now, I would give in to your most wicked delights and mingle great pleasure with you." "Give me that kiss, Relief, and I will take you to our home and do just that." She closed her eyes. "By giving you that kiss, I will be giving you my soul. Isn't it enough that I am willing to lay down my life for you? I do not know which is worse, controlling my temper so that I don't kill someone, or not making passionate, crazy, reckless, abandoned love to you." Her eyes came open, her breath suspended. His mouth dropped open and his chest began to rise and fall at a much quicker rate. He looked into her face with an expression of agony. "Please shoot me Relief, for I do not know how much more of this I can take. I do not want to lose my honor and ravish you against your will." Relief smirked. "Try it, my lord, and I will break my own code of honor and kill you myself," she said, glowering at him through narrowed eyes, voice laced with mirth. Benjamin took his wife's hands and gripped them in his. "We will be great together, Relief." "It will never be until you allow me to be myself." "I just can't. I deeply regret it Relief. It injures me profoundly." "Benjamin, then there is something that I could never tell you." 380

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"What would that be?" "If I could tell you that, I would not have used the words, 'I could never tell you.'" He gave her a stern look. "I could order you." "Yes you could. You are my legal husband." "In that case," he sighed, "I demand that you tell me." "Make me." He raised his brows. "You saucy little chit!" He tickled her sides and she laughed. "Stop! Please, oh stop!" "Not until you tell me!" "Oh please, Benjamin, I beg you, stop!" "Not ... until ... you tell me!" "Fine, I surrender." He stopped tickling her suddenly, pulled her close and looked into her face ardently. She closed her eyes and sighed. She opened them to look into his desperate eyes. "Fine, don't tell me, but be my wife." "You have no idea how much I want to."

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Twenty-seven Relief was repeating a long string of musical phrases in her practice parlor. She found the discipline to be not only enjoyable, but helpful, for it ensured that she continued to master voice modulation. It also made her feel exquisitely feminine. She was going over the most difficult part when Honora strolled over to the pianoforte—she expected in order to join her in a song or two. She stopped singing and greeted her sister with a hopeful smile. A rapping on the front door sent her pulse racing. "I hope it's Benjamin." "Why?" Honora said. "Because my heart breaks when he leaves my presence." "Wait here, Leafy. Why don't you practice some of your most beautiful phrases? If it is your husband, I will bring him in to see you at your practice. Let him once again be awed by you." Light laughter spilled from her lips, and she gave Honora a gentle shove towards the door. "Then I shall go and write some letters and give you two some privacy!" Suddenly Relief was jittery. Her heart thudded in her chest as she anticipated his presence. She closed her eyes. For you, my love. Her eyes fluttered open; she drew breath from her abdomen, and then placed an elegant hand there. She reached from her soul for the most beautiful melody of her experience, and produced it with loving 382

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intention and dedication. Silky, sultry, sad notes filled the room with her longing. He walked into the room and froze just within the doorway, beholding her with eyes of wonderment. The melody died, its last notes fading in the air. He took her breath from her. Her hand fell to her side, and she leaned over, placing her fingers flatly on the pianoforte. "My love?" His brow crinkled in concern, and he strode over to her, placing a hand under her elbow. She straightened. "I'm quite well, Benjamin." "Was that—for me?" She nodded once. He stared back at her with anxious desire and pulled her into a hungry kiss. Their lips parted slowly, and he tipped back, holding her around her waist. "Madam," he brought his lips to behind her ear and brushed a kiss there. "You once again," he nudged her neck and left a soft trail of kisses there. "Take me to new heights." He tugged at the skin near her shoulder with his teeth so softly it sent shivers throughout her body. "I fear that you render it quite impossible for me to ever leave you be." He drew slightly away and stared at her with serious eyes. Alarm sped through her. She was dangerously close to surrendering to him, letting him have it his way. "Benjamin," she said softly, and with a touch of melancholy. "Relief, is something the matter?" "I want to leave England and travel." 383

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"I do not want you to leave the country without me, Relief. I could not keep an eye on you if you do. I do not want to do this to you, but if you go, I will be with you, and no fighting! Otherwise, beloved, you are not free to go. I'm sorry." "Benjamin," she said then frowned grandly. "You would stop me?" "From leaving the country without me, yes. And do not even harbor the idea of fleeing again. I will search for you until the day I die." She looked to the floor. He nudged her chin up. "Relief, my love, I have a proposition for you." She blinked back a tear, curious. "We will be a happy couple living together and raising our talented children together. You could teach our babies to coo in Italian. What do you think?" She twisted away from him and brought her fingertips to her lips, rushed with sadness, torn between two lives she wanted very badly. He grasped her upper arm and whispered lovingly into her ear. "I will never give up on you." **** She was delighting in her latest costume, Olivia, Raphael's sister, because it gave her the opportunity to be out on her own and not be approached as Lady Cheltham. She entered a charming little hat shop and inspected a bonnet with an ostrich feather. Mr. Richards approached her, having seen her from the window. 384

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"Miss, you will pardon me. Where is your escort?" He looked from side to side. "I do not require one, sir." He lifted a brow. "Women of quality—" "Are you questioning my good name, sir? You have not ever made my acquaintance." "No, no. Miss, forgive me. I'm just surprised." "What do you want, sir?" "You, well, to be honest, I could not help but to notice you. You are a most elegant young lady." She grinned. "Thank you, sir." "Oh my. That is quite a smile you have, Miss." "Sir, I am engaged in personal business." She stretched her neck and glanced over his shoulder in order to dismiss him. "Wait, Miss, what is your name?" "That is quite my own affair. A proper young lady would not give it out to a stranger." "Would it be possible for us to meet at a very public place filled with people and exchange discourse there?" She just gave him a calculating look. Then she said, "I am spoken for, sir." "Married?" "Yes." "Oh, I am quite sorry." "I dare say you should not be. I am married to a good man." "Miss, would you be open to er ... indiscretions?" "What?" 385

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"Upon my word, I mean no disrespect. It's just that you remind me of the beautiful Relief Moore. I am quite in love with her, I will have you know, but she won't have me." "Good day, sir." "Miss—" He touched her shoulder. She flipped him, threw him on the floor and marched out of the shop with the elegance of a sophisticated lady. **** Hidden at a discreet distance behind her, Lord Cheltham suppressed his laugh. She was probably the only woman in England who could do that, and for some reason, he was glad that she had that ability. His heart beat fast, half in pride, and half in regret. He wanted to be her protector. He rubbed his forehead, frustrated at his predicament and headed down the now dark streets. As he was following her, a couple of ruffians jumped him from behind. He kicked backwards and struck one attacker in the knee. The man yelled out. Ahead, Relief turned in his direction. She ran, almost tripping over her skirts. She lifted them and continued as fast as she could toward the commotion. Lord Cheltham threw fierce punches at the two men and received a few in return. Relief stopped abruptly in her boots. She lurched forward but halted and hopped from foot to foot, throwing a little fist into the air. "Go Benjamin!" she shouted. He glanced at her quickly and ducked a facer. "Stay back, Olivia!" She nodded frantically. 386

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"Kick him in the arse!" she yelled. He hit one man in the stomach. He doubled over. The next man swung at him. Lord Cheltham knocked him out with one punch to the face. Relief cheered and clapped. The first man straightened and darted toward him. "Benjamin, a dagger!" He barely swerved out of the way of the knife. The man swung again and swiped his arm. Blood seeped through Lord Cheltham's shirt. Relief slapped her hand to her mouth, appearing desperate to jump into the fight, still bouncing from one foot to the other. Lord Cheltham got in a good punch to his opponent's face. The scoundrel toppled back but caught himself. He rubbed his jaw, spitting out with hatred, "You will find your death, Viscount." He ran down the dark street. Lord Cheltham followed him. A racing carriage came seemingly from out of nowhere. A hand appeared and pulled the rogue up into the vehicle, and they were off as fast as their horses could run. Lord Cheltham stood there trying to catch his breath. He bent and grasped his knees, sore, and perturbed. He straightened and marched back. He saw Relief shaking the now barely alert man by his lapels. "Talk, damn you!" The man mumbled, bleeding from his mouth. She dropped him to the ground and scoffed loudly. She stood and rushed to him, grabbing him by the shoulders, gazing at him with frightened eyes. 387

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"Benjamin, are you all right?" She scanned his face then stepped back to study his body, head to toe. She pulled the ribbon from her hair, and her long locks tumbled down. She used the silk as a bandage for his arm, wrapping it around several times. He winced. It burned. "Hold still, my love. We must stop the bleeding." He reached up with his other hand and stroked her cheek, but she was focused intently on her task of keeping the rest of his blood in his body. "You will need your blood, or I will never have children," she muttered. What? He hand scooted over her heavy hair, and he grasped it in his fingers, drawing her into a deep kiss, his nerves raw with unfulfilled arousal. He slid his lips across her cheek, and whispered hotly into her ear, "Shall I give you one tonight?" She gasped. He tore away from her, jumped to his feet, and checked on the still man. A hackney rattled down the road, and he called it. Then he approached the man on the ground and threw Relief a glance. She flushed with what he hoped was great desire. One corner of his lips came up. Now you shall know what I am going through! Very satisfied with himself, he dragged the man to the cab. Relief hurried after him. All the way to see the authorities, she remained silent, looking extremely frustrated with her stiff spine, and her hands twisting her lace handkerchief practically to shreds. This pleased Lord Cheltham to no end. Later, on the street, he held her hand and looked into her face. 388

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"Relief, thank you for staying out of it. I know you wanted to join the fight, but I don't want you to if you do not have to. Please, Relief, please give it up. Do I not indulge my optimism overly in presuming there's hope? Your earlier comment about children?" She pulled her hand from his and shook her head sadly. "It is so important to you that I do not fight?" "Yes." "Why?" "I fear the day you lose a fight, Relief. My uncle was as tough as they come, and he was defeated in a terrible, ugly way. He was beaten up so badly we barely recognized him. He died as a result of the injuries he sustained." "I am so sorry, Benjamin. My heart aches for you. But I cannot change who I am, or I will hate you for it." "And I can not stop praying for the miracle that you will give it up for good. Relief, spend the night with me, as my wife." "No, Benjamin. I cannot. I want to, I just cannot." "Relief, I will hold you in my arms and make you forget all of this nonsense. I promise you, it will be the best night of either of our lives." "That's what I fear," she uttered softly. She pulled away, her eyes downcast. "I must go." "Go home to Honora, then, not to the streets. Relief, pray avoid Seven Dials and St. Giles." "I will go to the Rookery and search out the gangs then." "No!" "You are doing it again, my lord. Let me be me." 389

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He watched as she walked away. "Don't go," he wretchedly, his heart breaking. Then he sighed in relief as he saw her headed away from the worst parts of the city.

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Twenty-eight She meandered in a pensive mood, thinking about her husband. She had a tremendous amount of respect for him and enjoyed his easy company. She remembered all of the adventures they had had together. He showed her a couple of advanced moves used in the sport of pugilism, and she, as Raphael, showed him a few interesting things, too. Together, they both became even more talented fighters. He had opened up to her. No man had ever treated her so well. And he was so attractive. She liked the way he looked whether he was dressed for a street adventure, in his dashing, hero's clothes, or he was wearing the ensemble of a wealthy nobleman, and he gleamed from head to toe. On their wedding day, she had tried to stay the dizzying racing of her heart but had failed. When they were pronounced man and wife, that was the most thrilling moment of her life, more so than any moment she had fighting crime on the streets. Hours passed, and she was no closer to knowing how they could be together. Tired and somewhat disheartened, she dragged her feet home. Once in bed, she stared at the ceiling, swallowing tears she would not allow to fall. Honora peeked into her room. "Are you awake?" "I am now," she muttered. "Come in." Honora made her way across the room and sat down on the bed. Relief sat up and propped a pillow behind her. "Let's talk, Leafy." 391

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"About what?" "About why you fight." "Oh." "You revel in it." "It fills me with the passion of real life." "Yes. But there's more to it. You were always adventurous, even when we were small children. I remembered when you snuck out and followed our brothers one night." "They liked to find themselves mixed up in brawls." "Especially Raphael." "He was a hero to me. I never saw him lose a fight. I mimicked his fighting moves. I went to him and showed him what I could do. He couldn't believe his eyes. He said that I executed my punches in perfect form." "So he went against his better judgment and showed you some more. As did Daniel." "Yes, but they both told me that I was only allowed to use those moves if I were ever threatened. It was unladylike to do so otherwise. I told them I agreed, but I did not. I practiced constantly when I wasn't singing or studying. They never knew how sharply I had developed my skills. I was much better than they imagined. I always watched them practice from some hidden spot." Honora scooted further onto the bed and pressed her back against the headboard. "And then you would sneak around and try to find trouble yourself." "So that I could practice what I learned."

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"Then Leafy, when we were in Asia, the holy man saw you practicing. He said that your focus was sharper than that of most Westerners he had ever seen." "My musical studies had something to do with my strict discipline. He was impressed enough to take me as a secret student. He let me break up trouble a few times." "Fighting is very important to you." "It always has been. Honora, what is your point in all this?" "What is the root of that? Is it pride? Do you need to prove something as a woman?" "No. That is not it." "Tell me, Leafy. I have always wanted to know." "I like helping people. I discovered that I had a talent for it. I like helping disadvantaged people. I saw so many in my travels, on the streets, so many helpless people. I would go out and do what I could for those in trouble." "And you grew to enjoy the action as well." "Yes, it is quite exciting. Living on the edge, free." "Leafy, I want you to think for a moment. Is it the fighting itself, or what it leads to that you love so much?" Relief thought for several moments, deeply contemplating the question. Then she spoke. "Honora, you know it cannot be called into question that I derive pleasure from the fight." "Is it a means to an end that you are trying to reach?" "I never thought about it so much before."

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She didn't like to hurt others. She pondered her sister's words. "No, I use the fighting as a means to an end, to help out people in trouble." "I knew it." Honora snapped her fingers. "What is thrilling is finding those people. Walking around in dangerous situations is exhilarating. It helps me to understand real life." "Because you know that your risk is low, you do not have to fear your own death so much. You can protect yourself. The thrill is in discovering ways in which you can make a difference, not in knocking someone out." "That's right. But it sometimes gratifies my temper to land my fist in a lowlife's face. It is exceedingly rewarding uncovering trouble and solving it. It is wonderful knowing that I have helped to make an innocent person's life better." "Leafy, could you take things in a slightly different direction?" "What do you mean?" "Help people in other ways?" "Honora, there are a lot of desperate people who are out there on the streets, in the dark with nowhere to turn. No one is going to save them." "Still go out there, in the thrill of the night, Leafy. Still help those people. Only help in a different way. Do not actively seek out fights with men three times your size. Only fight when you or someone else is attacked." "I do not instigate fights unless I am in a competition."

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"I have seen you approach bad men and antagonize them, tempting them to throw punches at you. You would duck and laugh at them and then throw punches in defense." "Yes?" "To show off, Leafy." "What are you arriving at?" "Don't do your showing off so much in that way, Leafy. Save that gratification for the music room." Relief frowned. Her sister's words disturbed her because she touched upon a new concept-but they had merit. She continued to listen carefully. "Approach men like that differently, without such a cocky little attitude as if to say, 'I'm small but I can take you down; try me!' It mocks them into action." "Why are you saying all of this to me now, Honora?" "Because you are so in love with your husband, and you want to be with him. You are searching for a way to make that possible. For how long are you to endure not being in his loving arms?" "I have never said any such thing." She gave Relief a serious look. "Do you think it is necessary? I read people too, Relief. I know my own sister. I want your happiness." "You would make a man very happy, Honora. You truly understand people. I want your happiness, too. We will find you a great husband." "That is nice of you to say, Leafy, but do not change the subject. What do you think of everything I have already said?" 395

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Relief reached for Honora's hand and held it. "You might have touched upon some truth that I have refused to ponder before." "Your husband knows that you value freedom, Leafy, and he loves you enough that he has proven it with actions that I am sure cost him dearly. He does not want you to feel held down and suppressed. He loves who you are." Relief took in a deep breath. "Perhaps, I could help people out with a little less fighting. It might be possible to cut back." "It is possible, Leafy. Do not do so much provoking. I know some of those criminals deserve to be humiliated but it does not have to be at your hand." "Perhaps not." "And Leafy, you can stop them with your intelligence at times. It does not always have to be with your fists." "You mean by setting traps for them." "And Leafy," she rushed on, "what if you were to train others to help you in this endeavor? Find a few lads and teach them everything you know; delegate your tasks." "That's not a bad idea, Honora." "Could you be happy with all of this? Could you live a full life with this change?" "I believe I could, as long as I could still go out on the streets and do these things. Nobody knows it is really me. You know that it is not for the glory." "It is for the fun." "Yes." 396

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"Your husband can more than make up for any fun you cut back on from the streets." Honora lifted her brow suggestively. Relief placed the quivering fingers of one hand over her belly. "Indeed he could. I enjoy his company so very well. He is a pleasure to be with. And I dare say—" she lifted her hand to her now hot neck and released a slow stream of air past her lips. "I have fantasies as wicked as his are likely to be." Honora's face lit with a huge smile, and she inclined her head in understanding. "And you could still make a difference in the lives of those poor souls out there." "Yes." She lowered her hand to her lap. "I have to think about this. I love Benjamin. He's crazy to love me, but he does. He loves the real me, as mad as he believes me to be." She swallowed a lump in her throat, feeling tender love for him. "He's the only one besides myself that even knows the real you. Our family does not even have all of that information. The people that you are a hero to only see one side of you, your wild and reckless side. Your husband sees that and your more tender side, and he wants to spend his entire life with you. He let you walk away to prove true love, Leafy, but one can see in his face, that he's quite miserable about it. I think him a man deeply in love. You cannot let a man like that go. I won't let you." Relief put her arms around her sister and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her eyes shut. She hoped Honora could absorb the love that beat in Relief's heart for her. Darling, precious sister. 397

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"You do know me best, Honora. So your advice is the most valuable to me. Thank you. I shall contrive to consider it carefully." "I love you, Relief." "I love you, too." She pulled away. "Do you know any handsome men who might be interested in a saucy American girl?" "I will search high and low for you." "If they are as exciting as your husband and are and not starched." "I fancy there are more than a few of those." Honora clapped her hands together like a child waiting upon Christmas day. **** He hosted a party at his house because some of his friends questioned him about never seeing him anymore. They wanted to see how the new Lady Cheltham was getting along in her new life. She was rarely seen in public. Relief agreed to host it with him. She acted the proper lady all night long, the proper Viscountess, even singing to entertain their guests. Lord Cheltham's friends chatted in little groups in a large parlor of the townhouse, waiting for dinner to be served. Relief glanced at her husband, warmed and enchanted with him. He met her gaze and held it, speaking his thanks with his eyes. A loud bang from the direction of the library sent Lord Cheltham and Relief rushing away from their guests to see 398

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what it was all about. He held his hand up to stop her when they neared the library. He edged along the wall toward the library's door. She circled around and slid inside a secondary door just as an intruder threw a book at her husband's head. His friends rushed into the room. Dazed, Lord Cheltham raised his hand to the injured area. Anger surged through her. Her husband was attacked again! It sent her temper soaring. Relief did a one-two punch and knocked the intruder senseless. Suddenly, she regretted her actions. She should have let him handle it. Lord Cheltham shook his head and blinked. He glanced at his wide-eyed friends. Lord James, a longtime friend of his, spoke with amusement in his voice. "It seems your wife has come to your rescue." Lord Cheltham grew red with humiliation. "This party is over." He turned toward his silent and dutiful butler, Jones. "See them out, please, and then take care of him." He tossed a glance at the man lying on his floor. Looking at his friends now, he made a brief apology and strode out of the room and up the stairs. "Madam!" he shouted. "Come with me, now!" She picked up her skirts and followed him up the stairs. When she was facing him in their chambers, he started pacing, with his fists clenched. "Benjamin?" He paced the room again. 399

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"Benjamin, please." He stopped and cut the air with his palms in anger. "How could you do this to me?" She stood rigid on the spot clenching her hands, reeling with remorse. "I'm sorry. I acted on instinct." "It's time to retrain your instinct, madam!" She stepped back, alarmed and wondering about his intentions. "Oh my God, are you going to take me prisoner again?" A blanket of pain melted over his features. "Prisoner?" "I'm sorry, Benjamin, I—" "I do not want to hear it." He shook his head and tore his gaze to the floor in a gesture of disgust. "I'll take my leave." She trembled, her heart pounding. She'd hurt him, and she was terrified he'd reconsider his feelings for her. "Do me a favor, Relief," he gritted his teeth and brought resentful eyes to hers. She waited in anticipation of his next words. "Wait until my friends have all departed, will you? I am already quite humiliated. By a miracle, they do not know that we are living apart. That would not be at all becoming." He turned his back on her. Her heart sank. She nodded and stepped around him with tear-blurred eyes.

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Twenty-nine He shifted through paperwork with agitation, then just gave up and tossed the stack onto his desktop. He was not going to get any work done in this state of mind. His impeccably tailored butler, Jones cleared his throat. "My lord." He bowed, glancing down as if sorry to interrupt him. "Yes?" He brought his eyes up. "A Miss Honora Moore is here to see you." Lord Cheltham frowned and stood up as Honora rushed into the room. Instead of her usually polished appearance, her hair fell disheveled over her shoulders, and she twisted her hands together. A streak of dirt smudged her face, and her dress was torn at the top. "Oh my God, Honora, what has happened?" He circled around his desk, took long steps to her and grasped her hands. She threw herself into his arms, weeping. He ran his hand gently over her hair in an effort to calm her, although his franticness grew. "Shh, little one, tell me what is the matter." "They have her, my lord." He went tense. "Relief?" He said, his voice strained. He pulled away to look into her face. "My God, Honora, tell me who!" 401

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"The man who was trying to kill you and his hired help." He closed his eyes a moment. "Please, start from the beginning. What happened?" "Relief and I were shopping, not far from here. She wanted to purchase a nice gift for you as an apology for what happened." "And?" He opened his eyes. "We were jumped from behind, both thumped on the head. When I awoke, I saw her, tied up. This big, ugly, smelly man, missing several teeth, was looking over her body as if she were a piece of meat." He gripped her back, fury uncoiling in his belly. He wanted to dart out the door but had to hear more. "He said he wanted to kill her, but he would allow her to live if she lured you to him. She refused. He picked me up under my arms and told me that I had better fetch you, or he was going to kill her slowly and painfully. As I jumped up and started running here, she was crying out and screaming, begging me with tears pouring from her eyes not to do it. I came straight here." "Thank God you did!" He went to his gun case and pulled out a favorite weapon of his, an eighteenth century flintlock pistol embossed with wood and having metal grips. A friend had given it to him when he was living in America. He dragged the sobbing Honora with him. "Lead me there." "It's ... just..." she gasped for breath, "...down the road. No need ... to drive." 402

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Honora's tears ceased and she lifted her skirts so they wouldn't hinder her swift steps. Dusk was upon them, the sky gray in the falling shadows, and there was a chill in the air. He marched alongside her, the pistol under the folded jacket which hung over his arm. He was prepared to shoot to kill, barely suppressing his rage. They hit a main road and advanced down it quickly. A commotion up ahead caught his attention. Carriages were blocking the path. He swore and gripped the pistol tighter. "Devil take it! Time is wasting!" Deeply vexed, he weaved around several citizens who were staring at something with traumatized expressions. Ladies held their hands over their mouths. A couple had their faces buried against the chests of their men. A gentleman frowned and held his hands out, keeping two women behind them. A heavy man with straggly hair falling along a dirty face, dressed in tattered, soiled clothes grasped Relief tightly from behind, one hand across her waist, and one with a pistol pointed to her head. She heaved and gulped for breaths between sobs. She shivered in the cold evening air. Her eyes found his. "I love you! Help me!" She reached a hand out to him. He stepped closer. "Uh! No!" her captor shouted. "Stay back, yer lordship, unless you want 'er dead at yer feet!" He froze, trembling, terrified. "Good God, let her go!" "Nay, she needs to die. Killin' 'er will be quite amusing!" He was going to lose her. 403

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Lord Cheltham stumbled, his heart pounding, his head spinning. "No, oh, God, no." He moaned. His world was about to be darkened forever. He'd never been so scared in his life, not even when the pistol was pointed at him—that day Raphael rescued him from the highwayman. She rescued him. He inhaled deeply. The shock of seeing her so helpless gripped him with disbelief. Willing to do anything to save her, even take the man's weapon off her for a second, and receive the bullet as he shot the man, he broke through the crowd and aimed his weapon. Relief's captor, to his surprise, did not turn the gun on him. "Release my wife, and I won't shoot a hole through the center of your head," he said with deadly calm. "Shoot me," he said in a gruff voice, "and your wife will die, too." "It's me you want, you coward. Be a man and let the lady go. We will settle this like men." The criminal scoffed. "Yer a coddled nobleman. Ye know nothing of honor, of protection, of real life in the real world!" He scowled. "Now, I'm a man who knows how to use my hands." He shrugged. "To the devil with it, I'll beat ye ta death." He spit onto the dirt. "What 'av I got 'a lose? I'm wanted for murder. 'Ight as well get a li'l pleasure 'for I go to my hangin.'" "He escaped, my lord!" Relief shouted. "Put down the gun and prove you can handle a soft nobleman like me." 404

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"Ye have a deal, Viscount." He lowered his weapon, and so did Lord Cheltham. The big, ugly one shoved Relief hard to the side. She fell into the dirt, and Honora rushed to her side in comfort. Lord Cheltham attacked Relief's abductor. They fought until both of them had spilled blood. Finally, Lord Cheltham got the upper hand and knocked his opponent to the ground, bewildering him. The man's eyes closed, and his head rolled to the side. He looked down on him with pure disgust. "It will be a hanging for you." The crowd cheered. He went to Relief, and crouched down near to where she sat, taking her hand in his. He pulled her into a tight embrace. "Oh, Relief! My love!" He plopped onto the ground pulling her sideways onto his lap. She gripped him close as if for dear life, muttering against his ear, wetting his neck and hair with her tears. "I failed ... I ... I failed." "No, no, sweetheart. Don't say that. Shh. I love you so much. Let me be your protector." She nodded. His heart leapt. He stroked her hair. "If you hadn't come along..." He brushed a wet strand from her face. "Let's not discuss this here." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Come home, love." One respectable-looking man dressed in the clothes of a merchant stepped forth. "Lord Cheltham?" He looked at him. 405

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"I'll take him in. Bring your wife home and take care of her." He nodded, stood, and held Relief close against his side as they walked in silence, the quiet Honora next to them, the crowd staring, tongue-tied. It's finally over. His heart sang as they neared the crescent where his townhouse was. Now Relief will come home and be my wife. The joy he felt at that moment almost overcame him. He stopped walking. Relief lifted loving, grateful eyes to him. "Benjamin?" His lips turned up at the corners. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and brushed her pretty chin with his thumb but said nothing. At home, in their chambers, he laid her on their bed, sat beside her, took a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it gently over her tear-stained cheeks. He looked into her sweet face. It was almost as if she had never been such a good fighter. "Relief." He placed the back of his fingertips against her cheek. "I was frightened to the very depths of my being." Something in her eyes changed. Was it fear he saw, of him? Alarms went off in his head. "Oh, Benjamin, my failure almost cost us both our lives." She looked away from him, as if ashamed. His heart sped up. "Wife? What do you mean?" "I was careless, and he took me from behind." 406

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He sat back, and rested his hands on his thighs. "I have seen Raphael spin around and take out five men at close range. What happened, and do not tell me a lie. If I had not been so terrified, I might have been disappointed by your lack of..." he snapped twice, placed a finger under her chin, and forced her to look into his eyes. "...heroism. You are not a little mouse." He clenched his jaw, coming to a realization. "Benjamin, your manly reputation is spared." He closed his eyes. "I knew it." She sat up. "He was a hired man. The one who offered to take him in was also hired." He opened his eyes, took in a deep breath, and stood up. "You did not really need me." His heart sank to his feet. His shoulders fell in deep resignation. She jumped up and went to him, grabbing his arm. He cast a glance at her hand. "What do you want of me?" "Benja ... Benjamin?" her voice cracked. "I did it for you!" "You know, Lady Cheltham, we could always make our separation known to the world. I'll take a lover—" "No! I love you!" His heart burst with agony, and his eyes widened in incredulity. "You jest with me, madam." "No, I do not! We will work this out!" "How?" He ripped his arm from her grasp, spitting out the words. "Are you going to stop fighting forever, and be a woman, Relief?" Tears glistened in her eyes. "Benjamin, you don't understand. It's who I am." 407

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"You sicken me." She fell back onto the floor, landing on her bottom. He left the room, vanquished. Ten minutes later, he saw Relief and Honora exit the front door and walk in the chilly night in the direction of their house. **** Relief paid him a visit at his home two days later. Her husband was practicing pugilism with a man she didn't know, the furniture pushed to the periphery of the large salon. Lord Cheltham stopped boxing and frowned at her. "How was your shopping, my love?" "Oh, it went very well, my lord." She forced a smile. "May I have a private word with you in your office?" He nodded, wiped his brow with his arm and led her to the other room. When they were alone, he stood and faced her. "Leave me be, madam." "Benjamin, please!" "You have no idea the terror I went through, Relief!" he exploded, his eyes burning. "But I did it for you!" He glared at her. Her heart banged against her chest. She was losing him. "Benjamin," she took a step towards him, softening her voice, shaking with panic. "I can't tell you how sorry I am." He didn't move. She raised trembling fingers, and set them against his cheek and leaned closer, slowly, preparing to give him that twelfth kiss. She lowered her gaze to his lips. 408

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How many times had she dreamed of this very kiss, the one that would join them forever? She brought her hand to his jaw and cupped it, lifting her gaze to his. "I'm so in love with you." She lifted her hand and brought it to the back of his head and began to caress his hair. She parted her lips. He didn't move. His eyes broiled with passion, and his chest moved in quick breaths. Was it still anger, or was it intense need she saw in his eyes? She did not know. Her heart would not slow down. Her hands would not stop shaking. She brought her lips to his and felt the warmth of his breath. Their skin touched, and he took a giant step back and wrenched her arm away. Instant tears came to her eyes. "Benjamin," she said in a shaky voice, reaching across a few feet of air. "Husband—" He held out his hand, palm facing her. He turned his head aside as if her presence revolted him. "Leave, now, madam. Go on another shopping trip. Be gone all day." She dashed toward him and grabbed him around the chest in an embrace before he could stop her. She pressed her ear to his heart. "Please, Benjamin! I beg you!" He gripped her arms and yanked her away. She stumbled, caught herself, and stared into his eyes searching for any remote possibility that he could forgive her. He stared back at her with unfathomable eyes. They darkened to the deepest gray, and he would not say a word. 409

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She pressed a hand to her sick stomach, almost fell over but recovered herself. "Good day, my lord!" She ran out of there and out the front door, feeling like the world fell out from under her. As soon as she entered her and Honora's little house, her sister was there to greet her. They embraced in the front entrance. Relief stepped back and gazed at Honora not really seeing anything. "Honora, as soon as I find Lord Cheltham's real would-be killer, I am going to leave the country," she informed her, feeling dead inside. Honora pulled her into another hug. "No! Leafy, what are you saying?" Her voice came out like a scared little girl's. "He has been pushed too hard, Honora. He no longer loves me, and I do not blame him one bit." "Of course he loves you! My God, did you see his face during the ordeal, Leafy?" She pulled back and shook her roughly by the arms. "He was ready to be shot for you! He was inviting it, for the love of God, Leafy!" Relief continued as if her sister hadn't spoken. "I have a secret savings, Honora. I am going to leave it to you. You could live off of it long enough to find a husband. Sell my wardrobe and you could survive for a couple of years." "Leafy?" She went down on her knees and took her sister's hand, pleading. "Leafy, what are you trying to tell me? Tell me the truth!" There was panic in her voice. "I'm trying to tell you that as soon as I find Lord Cheltham's pursuer, I am going to put myself in the most dangerous situations as often as I possibly can. I might as 410

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well go down in flames." She inclined her head, and her lip quivered. "I don't want to live without him!" She burst out into a sob. Honora stood and squeezed her close again. "Leafy, no!" She sniffled and wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her wrist. "I'm sorry, Honora. My mind is made up." Honora stared at her, pale and speechless. Relief read her eyes. "Do not worry, little one. I haven't found the villain yet. I'll be here for a little longer. You'll be fine. Perhaps we'll find you a husband before I have to go. And oh, if you're thinking of running to him about this, don't. Because if you do, I'll disappear tonight." Honora let her go, and considered her with angry eyes. She turned, picked up her skirts, and ran up the stairs. **** Relief kept Honora carefully informed of every move she made, feeling sorry for the poor girl. She hoped this would ease her heart. Relief followed her husband, always looking for signs of the man who wanted him dead. For a week she saw nothing. Then during a cloudy afternoon, she saw a welldressed man around fifty wearing a powdered wig. He was dressed in the old-fashioned clothes of an older generation with his stockings and buckled shoes. He was her man, the one she had fought before, and he was roaming around the streets of London like an arrogant bastard. She crept up behind him as he aimed his pistol at her unsuspecting husband. When she tapped him on the shoulder, he spun around, and she shifted her feet and 411

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punched him in the face, dazing him. With the movement, her foot hit a pebble on the road, and she slipped back. He saw his advantage and took it, taking the butt of his gun and ramming it against her head, saying, "This will be vastly more amusing." Her eyes shut with blinding pain, and she collapsed into darkness. **** Honora rushed into Lord Cheltham's private office, hysterical. He jumped up from behind his large, polished desk. "Miss Moore?" He frowned. "My lord, you must help me!" "What is it now?" he said with exasperation. "He has her!" Incredulity filled him, and he sat back down, shaking his head. "My lord?" "Go home, Honora." "But, he has Leafy!" Tears streamed down her face. "Really, enough of this nonsense!" He pressed his hand to his desk, irritated beyond measure. She plunged toward his desk, and placed her own hands on the surface, breathing quickly. "I had her followed, my lord. She did not know. She was following you. My hired man reported back to me. Your pursuer was about to shoot you. She confronted him from behind. He turned around, and she tripped on something in the road. He hit her in the head, and 412

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she collapsed. He swept her up into his arms. As he carried her limp body away, he vowed to enjoy killing her as you watched, and then he would enjoy killing you. My hired man followed them. Please! Come with me!" She waved her hands like a madwoman in the air, hopping from foot to foot, as her sister had once done. "You are exceedingly clever, as is your sister. Now excuse me. I have work to do." "Devil take it, Lord Cheltham!" She marched over to his gun case, lifted the hem of her gown and wrapped it around her hand and broke the glass. She pulled out a gun. He jumped up, astonished. "Where did they go?" "Follow me!" **** The room smelt musty. Relief could see only with the ring of light around her, offered by a couple of candles on a small round table. The eeriness of the room made her shiver. Her head throbbed, and she had to concentrate to bring back her focus. She moaned from her aching body. Wretched and done for, she prayed for her husband. There's no way she could escape and save him, and she was terrified for him. And he would never come in search of her when Honora reported her missing. Her kidnapper was staring at her, holding his gun by his side, looking quite content in the flickering candlelight. "I saw a man following behind me as I brought you here. He ducked behind a tree, but he wasn't fast enough for my eye. I am sure your husband will be along shortly." 413

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"No," she said sadly and sincerely. "You must be mistaken. He won't come. He no longer loves me." "I would not wager on that one, Mrs. Wright." "Why do you want him dead? Who are you?" "You ask too many questions." "Please, sir. One cannot but understand that you are in the advantageous position. I must know." "You really love him." "Yes. You are related to him, are you not?" He stood back and gave her a look of great surprise. "Why would you say that?" "The family crest pin." "Ah, when we tussled before. I know about your disguises. My late partner knew, too. He spied you going in your house as you and coming out as the boy, on numerous occasions." "You are not related to my husband? You are not the uncle who fled the country?" she asked with great surprise. "Indeed not, madam." "Who are you? Or are you not man enough to tell me?" He chuckled. "I'm—"he paused and gave her an extended look of consideration. "What the devil." He shrugged his shoulders. "It goes back a little ways. Would you care to venture a guess?" "Are you acquainted with a Lord Whittingham?" "No." "Are you obsessed with me and want him removed from my life?" "That is not my motivation." "Then what?" 414

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"Keep guessing. This is amusing." "You stole his family pin." "From one of his uncles, yes. It threw you off-track, did it not?" "Yes." "Keep talking." She looked up and to the side, thinking very heavily about the possibilities. "You are one smart and incredible woman. I have no doubt that you will figure this out." "Sir, I am perplexed. Give me a hint." "Do I look familiar to you?" "We have fought before." "Think back further." She was silent for several moments. She squinted her eyes, looking into his face. Then her breathing quickened. "Oh my God." He grinned wickedly.

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Thirty "The highwayman." He laughed. "You stopped me from killing him that day." She blinked, astonished. "But why? Why do you want him dead?" "It's not me that wants him dead. It's a very wealthy woman who has paid me enough to live the rest of my life in comfort." He touched his nice coat. "She has given me an advance for playing with his mind." "Oh my God, Joan! Her new family has money." "You would think it would be her, after what he did to her." "It was not Joan?" "No." "How do you know then about what happened?" "The one who engaged my business told me." "How did you come to know the man who came after me?" "I do a little fighting. Sometimes men drink together after spilling each other's blood in sport. When drunk enough, we talk, sometimes saying too much, and sometimes gaining very valuable information." "You met him on the fighting circuit." "Yes. We found that we had much in common. We both had a similar job to do. We became partners. This was before you met the Viscount. When we discovered that our targets had become romantically involved, we were able to use this to our advantage. And your Asian fighter did not spend his 416

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every waking moment hunting you. He kept his skills sharp by fighting in between his intimidation tactics." "I see. Did you know Lord Cheltham's uncle?" "I dare say I killed him and stole his pin." Cold shudders washed through her. "Why did you kill him?" "He wasn't the first. I've killed a few men in competition." "Did you take the pin and then decide for some reason to go after my husband?" "No. When I killed his uncle in a fight, simply by not restraining myself, I thought the pin had a potential purpose." "Who hired you?" "Guess." She rolled her eyes. "His parents?" "That's a strange conjecture." "His sister and his parents hate him." "True, but they don't want him dead." "A former lover?" The man twirled his finger, and landed it on her nose. "She was in love with him?" "They were engaged to be married." "What?" she practically shouted. "He never told me!" "He broke their engagement the night he first saw you, that same evening." She felt sick. "She would have made him much happier, Viscountess. She is not a fighter. He would have had great peace of mind with her. She would have been a dutiful wife." 417

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A pang of sadness squeezed her heart. "She has an even greater temper than I do, to hire a man to go after him." "Indeed. She will pay me extra for killing you. She thought that your own hunter would have done the deed, and then your husband took care of that situation." She closed her eyes and could not stop the tears from coming, anxious for her husband's safety. Her eyes came open, and in the candlelight she studied his ruggedly handsome face, bordered by an expensive wig. "How did you meet this woman?" His arm was lifted, and he dusted the sleeve of the fine jacket that covered his muscular frame with his hand, grooming, seeming unconcerned. He lowered his arms and brought brown, arrogant eyes to hers. "She was attracted to men like me, men who could hold their own. She has exotic taste and paid good money to come see some of these underground fights. She saw me kill your husband's uncle in a fight and approached me." Relief gulped tears down her tight throat and squeaked out, "She knew who he was?" All the while, her mind raced with wild ideas of how she could still save her husband. "She saw the family pin and inquired about it. She asked me to wait before I killed your husband, wanting to throw herself off the trail of suspects and allow some time to pass first." Relief let out a little cry. She gazed at her feet, under her tied ankles. She shivered against the cold wall she stood against. Her life with her husband came to her mind in flashes, all those times on the street chasing criminals, and 418

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the other times: kissing him with abandon, their soft caresses, the way he looked at her with that grin of his, dying to be her hero, or just the simple times such as dining with him in the townhouse. She didn't get enough time with him. Not nearly enough time. Her heart pounded so hard it began to hurt. She wanted him to embrace her and say he wanted her, that he'd never leave her. She shivered as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "Don't cry. This very night, you and your husband will be joined together in paradise." "We ... we never even consummated the marriage," she breathed out with the greatest of regret. "What?" She flushed, embarrassed, and brought her attention back to his face. "Nothing." He grinned. "This becomes more amusing with each passing moment." A scuffing sound in the back of the dark room caused his head to whip around. Holding his weapon, he strode out of the circle of candlelight. "Don't go anywhere," he mocked. "Don't kill him. We will pay you double." "He will never give me that kind of money." He waved his hand through the air in dismissal. "I have it." He scoffed. "I have a pink diamond." He spun around and stepped back into the light. "What?" "My uncle's. I was going to return it to him next month when he came to visit. I wanted to give it to him personally." 419

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"A pink diamond?" His brow was raised in interest. She nodded. "Yes, he is a jeweler in New York." "I have read something about a New York jeweler's pink diamond being stolen." "My sister and I have recovered it." "Where is it?" "In my sister's care." He gave her a careful look, and then shook his head. "No. I do not want to take the chance." "Please, sir. I beg you!" She was terrified for Benjamin. "Please. I will do anything. Just please spare my husband. He deserves a chance in this life. I beg you will not go through with your plan. He is a good man." "Then he will be carried by the angels to paradise." "I am every time I look upon her." She inhaled sharply, and then held her breath, trembling with hope. Benjamin took one step into the light, lifted his arm and pointed the pistol at her captor's head. "Drop your weapon, slowly." He bent down, arms up, and lowered his weapon. Lord Cheltham kicked it across the room. Relief's abductor stood and asked in surprised tones over his shoulder, "How did you do that? I did not know you were behind me." "Raphael taught me." He looked lovingly at his wife. "Useful skill, I should say." Tears poured down her cheeks. 420

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He tossed a glance over his shoulder. "Miss Moore, untie my wife." She came out of the darkness and rushed to her brotherin-law with the discarded pistol in her hands. She handed it to him then got to work on the ropes that bound Relief. Finally, Relief was free. She was itching to knock her captor out, and formed fists with her hands. Still pointing the gun at the man, Benjamin said, "Go on wife, do it. I know you long to." She threw a punch, and the evil man collapsed on the floor in a heap, senseless. She looked at her husband, and a laugh spilled forth. She held her belly in delight. He couldn't help himself and joined her, chuckling. They quickly tied him up. "We'll need to report the arrest to a magistrate, Relief." She nodded, staring at Benjamin in awed happiness. **** That night, Relief and Lord Cheltham sat discussing matters in the cozy little salon of his house. Relief told him everything the man had said, and then she looked at her husband, feeling unreasonable jealousy. "Why did you not tell me you were engaged to be married before?" "That bitch." He stood up after slamming his fist on the small table beside the couch. She smirked. He had called her worse than a whore. "You never loved her, Benjamin?" "I thought I did until that first night I saw you" He took his seat again, sighed and took her hand, resting it in his, in his 421

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lap. "She had been visiting her married sister in New York when I was there. She knew I was about to ask her to be my wife, but I never did. I was so overtaken with love when I first beheld you that I couldn't breathe." He squeezed her hand in emphasis. "I do not exaggerate. My chest felt tight, and I had hot and cold spells all night long. I was bewildered. I had to end it with her." He shook his head. "She should be apprehended soon. Your captor had physical evidence to link her to all of this." "It is fortunate we found it at his house," she added. He gazed at her steadily. "The bitch leads a very public life, showing off her shiny jewels and having grand parties with the most vivacious houseguests. She is a ridiculous woman only concerned with appearances. I do not understand why I thought I ever loved her; perhaps because I met her in my youth, and I was blinded by her outer beauty. Relief, your beauty transcends that. It is multi-faceted." She pulled her hand from his and drew him into an embrace. "I was so scared, Benjamin." "They will find her easily and quickly, I am sure of it. I suppose the man who took you will be hanged. He was a killer, Relief." "Benjamin! Oh, my love, I'm so glad, so glad you forgive me." She leaned back, inhaling deeply and brought a shaky hand to rest on his cheek. "You do, don't you?" Her breath was suspended in anticipation. "Yes," "I came to discover that you're more important than anything." 422

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He smiled. "I might—" "You might what?" "I might be persuaded—" "Persuaded to what?" Her fingers swept along the edge of his jaw, light as feathers. He took her hand, flipped it over and kissed her palm then looked at her with solemn eyes. "Under my strict supervision, you understand, you would not be allowed to leave my sight, for my own sake, Relief, God help me but even though you are the better fighter, I would still feel better being around to protect you—" he shook his head and sighed. "Ah, Relief, all I want is your happiness and safety." A huge smile curved her lips. She gasped and gripped his hand. "Benjamin, are you saying—" She fell back against the couch, trying to steady her irregular breathing, her hand against her chest. She took several breaths and gulped. "That I, that we, that ... that you'll have me as your wife and permit me to be myself? Could the glorious day have arrived?" "Olivia and I might go out and be heroes, but, she would have to stand aside far more often then before and let me do most of the dirty work." Tears blurred her eyes. "Oh, and," he inclined his head in a sudden reaction to a sad thought. "My father recently returned from his traveling. He and I had words." "What ... were they?" "He said it was fortunate he was a healthy man and would be around a while. He's ashamed of me and the rumors going 423

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around about my unusual behavior and expects me to do something about it. He doesn't know that we go out on adventures—no one in the upper echelons, does, but Relief, we have to be more careful. I fear I have been careless. I am young, I am exuberant, but I need to, at least publicly, pull things together and act the starched nobleman. You understand?" "Yes. In public, I can see the necessity." "We can not have our street exploits discovered. Too many people depend on my family. Without respectability, we lose authority, and power." She frowned. "We would lose connections and could fall into ruin. No one would do business with us. The servants would leave, we could not invest..." his voice dropped off, and then he looked at her inquiringly. "You understand, do you not, Relief? My father brought the point home to me." "It's why I have perfected disguises. I respect this so much, Benjamin, and will honor that, my lord, with reverent attention." He leaned closer and parted his lips, as if waiting with his whole being, not kissing her. She looked at him with tenderness. His eyes fell closed. "Have me," he muttered. Her hand was trembling. She put tingling fingertips against his neck, skimming the flesh. This was the most thrilling moment of her life to date, and she was temporarily overcome. He moaned. Swept up in deep love for him, she crushed her lips to his, grasping the back of his head. He 424

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opened his mouth, and she kissed him with urgency, as wave after wave of passion surged through her body and soul, making her heart resonant with the joy of being his wife.

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Epilogue Relief ran her hands gently over the soft material covering her warm swollen belly. She felt safe, immersed in a gentle, loving world. She was due to have her baby in a week. Lord Cheltham looked at her with so much love and pride that she went weak. She glanced around the large dining room table where the Wright family members were gathered. She saw Joan, the lovely, exotic Joan, sitting with a man who made her happy, her new rich husband, a titled man from her new country. Joan smiled and tilted her head toward her husband then looked up at her brother and held up her wine glass. "I would like to make a toast to my brother Benjamin." He smiled back at her. "His wife has brought us together. Through them, I have met the man of my dreams." Joan's husband laughed. He was tall and gallant with black hair and rich brown eyes, but most importantly, he loved Joan. A shiver of true happiness coursed through Relief's heart. Joan was content, and Benjamin's heart healed, for his sister had truly forgiven him. Her inner smile melted for a brief moment though, as she thought of the one dark cloud on the horizon for her husband. His widowed cousin Mary had run away, left the country with the Earl of Hawksworth, who had involuntarily given up his position in society. 426

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Relief smiled again though when she looked at her husband. Her love, she thought. He wanted her guarded from obsessed men every waking moment. He has been so diligent working with London's poorest children, working hard to better their cause. She spoke, "Duties have pulled his lordship from my side in these last weeks." "Darling, not much could pull me away from you." She lowered her voice so just he could hear her next words. "Those children need a hero, my love." He whispered in kind, "Olivia." She remembered a conversation that she had had with Benjamin in private earlier. As she pondered, she gazed into his face, love shining on her as warm as a summer day. She's out of commission for now, Benjamin. He had smiled. She will be back only fighting in defense. Yes. She will join you out there on the streets again helping out those children, bringing them food and clothes, sometimes at three a.m. as the situation requires, never leaving your side even for a moment, perhaps following a lead. And singing them songs to soothe their weary souls and bring them hope. Sometimes sitting in the gutter, coddling a small child in the dark of night and making her feel safe. "You two are once again in your own world." Honora rolled her eyes and shook her head. Honora's husband gave her a loving smile. He was a man of average height and blond hair, 427

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a baron. He took Honora's hand in his. Theirs had been a whirlwind relationship. They weren't exactly Relief and Benjamin's next door neighbors, but they lived in the neighborhood. The Moores had recently arrived but then left. They had attended Honora's wedding, but couldn't stay. Relief glanced over at her parents-in-law, the earl and his countess. They were aloof and frosty, but she worked on warming them up on a regular basis. One thing she made sure to do, grinning inwardly, was to call her husband "my lord" in their presence. Benjamin had thanked her for playing the part of the proper Lady Cheltham. She offered him a wonderful, seductive smile and informed him that she would be as "wild as she wished" on the streets or in the bedroom, but he should truly strive to win his parents' esteem, and she would endeavor to help him. He agreed. Only a week before Relief had managed to procure a smile from both of them, when they discovered how truly wealthy her family was, and upon hearing that her great-grandmother was the daughter of an English Marquess, they were further pleased. Her cheery and loving attitude was beginning to work wonders on them as well. She curved her lips into a smile just for her husband. Lord Cheltham inclined his head and whispered into her ear. "Please, woman, I beg you will not torture me further. It is not fair of you to give me that grin when I can not make my most wayward fantasies come true right this moment." When her breath touched his ear, he closed his eyes, overjoyed as if it were the first time she had ever looked at 428

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him. She whispered back in a sultry voice. "Benjamin, I had no idea that you had so many fantasies. It seems they never end." She grinned even more wickedly. His eyes snapped open, and he looked into her eyes with the greatest of love and lust. "You have no idea, Relief. I want you so badly that I am about to lay you down upon this table, hold myself above the child who is about to grace our lives, and kiss you senseless." She trembled, at an utter loss to describe the feelings he drew from her when he looked at her with eyes so filled with love she could barely breathe. She closed her eyes and thanked God for him. Meet Laura N. Hogg Laura Hogg lives in Colorado and teaches at a private reading school. She loves history and enjoys the research involved in doing historical romances. She has a B.A. degree in French with a minor in music. Her work is published with the e-zines Sage of Consciousness and The Coffee Press Journal. She is also published with Forbidden Publications, The Wild Rose Press, and Aspen Mountain Press. Laura is thrilled to have her historical romance The 12th Kiss coming out with Wings ePress Inc. VISIT OUR WEBSITE FOR THE FULL INVENTORY OF QUALITY BOOKS: 429

The 12th Kiss by Laura Hogg

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