Suddenly bereft of her dog, Miss Babineaux seemed nearly as stunned as Dev.

He’d not expected time alone with her. He’d fully intended to introduce himself to a worthy fiancé today and assure himself of her well-being after yesterday’s harrowing experience.

Fate had different ideas, which, if Dev were to be truthful with himself, he appreciated.

Not one to let such an opportunity pass, he winged his arm for Miss Babineaux to take before she could come up with another excuse.

But she did not.

Instead, she smiled timidly and placed her hand upon his sleeve. She appeared hesitant but not reluctant.

A warmth filled his chest, and the cloud that had been blocking the sun moments before dissipated.

“I am curious to see how the lion is faring today.” She looked over at him from beneath an indigo-colored bonnet. Her skirts swished over his boots. Her scent was fresh, sweet, and uniquely female.

“Then the lion, you shall see.” Dev covered her hand with his.

Her fingers were so much smaller than his own. He steered them away from the water and toward the road where he’d left his curricle with a groom. Three of them could have ridden on the rather narrow bench, but it would have been a tight squeeze.

“This is the second time we’ve seen you out of uniform, and yet we know you as Captain Brookes. Are you leaving military life behind?”

Clever girl. “I am. Unless necessary, I’m henceforth going to live the life of a country gentleman. Enough war for me.”

She nodded.

Dev wondered if she’d felt ill-used by him. “I behaved badly, yesterday,” he began. “I owe you an apology.” She was a lady, a gentlewoman, after all.

“For kissing me?” Her candor startled him.

“I shouldn’t have done it, but I have no regrets. Do you wish for one?”

“Another kiss?” Her glance was sharp this time, and she pulled away slightly.

“An apology.” He laughed, pulling her close again.

“Oh.” She resumed her stride. And then she further surprised him. “I don’t know.”

He knew it. She’d been affected, regardless of the existence of said fiancé.

“I don’t know you,” she added.

“But you will,” he almost said. Something inside him insisted.

And then he considered the enthusiasm she’d exhibited in his arms the day before. “And yet, you do.” Walking beside her, holding her arm, he felt the tremor that ran through her.

And she did not argue his point.

Dev had never been one to walk away from a challenge. Especially when compelled strongly by the prize.

It would require some finesse. He’d perhaps need to move a few mountains. “I had planned on leaving London in a few days’ time.”

Again, she glanced over and up at him. He watched her swallow. “For this new country estate you mentioned?”

“Yes. I’m to become a respectable gentleman. The embodiment of all I raged against in my youth.”

“It is to be admired. The desire to live a peaceful life. You are weary of war.” Her voice washed over him like a benediction of sorts. She spoke words he had not realized he needed to hear.

“You do know me, then, Miss Babineaux… Sophia.” He said her name slowly; spoken out loud it sounded like a whisper.

“But you,” she pointed out, “do not know me.” And yet she trusted him. She was slipping away with him for a secret outing.

Alone.

He would not give her cause to regret doing so. He patted her hand once again and began listing all that he knew of her. “I know you care deeply for animals. You are not prone to the vapors, and you are a generous and loyal friend.” He paused. “You are also a beautiful woman.”

She tucked her head down at those words. They had arrived at his vehicle, and he turned to assist her. The cushioned bench seat was high off the ground. This gave him an opportunity to place his hands around her waist, lift her up, and linger until she was safely on board.

Dev then pulled himself up as she gathered her skirts into herself.

“Do you think anybody ever really knows another person? Sometimes I find it difficult to even know myself.” She’d not relinquished their train of conversation. She’d also, he noted, ignored his compliments. Most debutantes would have fished for more.

Dev lifted the reins and guided the pair into traffic. “Perhaps in allowing the right person to know you, you can come to know yourself more fully.”

A small hum escaped as she seemed to contemplate his words. “I feel that way with Rhoda sometimes, and some of my other friends.” She sounded almost melancholy. “We speak of private matters when we are together, and yet, I feel they cannot ever really know me completely.”

As Dev drove along the crowded road, an odd sense of intimacy wrapped around them. What a strange conversation to be having with a lady, and as they drove through town, no less. He glanced sideways at her.

So serious, and yet, for all the world, one might think she was as empty-headed as any other debutante. She wore pastels and lace, naturally. Her lips were full, and he imagined, usually inclined to smile and laugh. It was that troubled look in the back of her eyes that intrigued him.

Was it a troubled look? Anxious even? Was he imagining something that did not exist. Perhaps, and yet he’d learned to trust his instincts. They’d gotten him through more than one assignment alive. Thousands of others had not been so lucky.

“What of your fiancé?” He kept his eyes focused upon the road as he asked the question. “Does he know you?”

He felt, as much as heard, her sigh. At first, he didn’t think she would answer him, but then, softly, “I’ve no idea…”

“Tell me about him.” Did she know her fiancé at all? “How long have you been betrothed?”

Again, another sigh. “Nearly a month now.” She did not sound like an enamored bride. “He is… sweet and kind. He is well connected and…” She shrugged. “…I am lucky to be marrying him. This is my second year on the marriage mart, and my stepfather had been hinting it would be my last.”

An arranged marriage? Not exactly… perhaps. But a woman’s choices were limited. “He is the lucky one, Sophia.” Dev’s voice caught for some unknown reason. He cleared his throat and then glanced at her.

She returned his gaze for barely a second before her lashes dropped and she began fidgeting with some lace on her dress. His inclination was to cover her hands with one of his own, to comfort her.

“He is a good man, and he treats me well.” She spoke softly, barely loud enough for Dev to hear.

Damnit, what the hell was he thinking? He ought not to have come today. He would change the subject. “It is as much an exhibit as a circus.”

Sophia looked away from him to watch the passing scenery. “I’ve been to the menagerie, to the tower. I’d rather have gone shopping for a new bonnet.” She was a somber little creature.

This statement, he was certain, wasn’t because she did not find the animals fascinating. It was not because she believed a new hat vital to her personal enjoyment.

It was because she felt deeply for animals.

“Sophia,” he said, again taking liberty with her name, “would you prefer I convey you home?” He did not wish to force himself upon her if it would… complicate her life too much. He merely wanted to spend time in her company. It was odd, how he knew that she most likely usually laughed easily and smiled at everyone. She was not so easy today.

She peered over at him. Ah, yes, a troubled look lurked in the back of her eyes. “I would like to see the lion…” And then a tentative tilting up of the corners of her mouth. “…please.”

Had he not been in such heavy traffic and crossing the bridge, in that moment Dev would have pressed a kiss against those lips.

This was why he’d come.

Oh, yes, he was going to have to investigate the circumstances of her betrothal.

“We’re almost there.” He would buy her a confection, some sort of sugar-covered pastry. She gripped his arm securely. When they’d cleared the bridge, he turned and watched for a place to pull out of traffic. Special events such as this never failed to draw crowds.

The circus tents and colorful flags created a carnival-like atmosphere. An aroma of fried foods and various animals was an unlikely combination indeed, but most definitely one aspect of the event’s allure.

Helping Sophia off his curricle was even more heady than assisting her up. Again, with his hands about her waist, he slid her down along the length of his body. He didn’t let go until he could feel that her feet were on the ground. “Let’s see if we can locate that lion.”

Sophia nodded and pulled herself out of his grasp, flustered.

Hell, if he were honest with himself, so was he.

* * *

The Carnival Varlet featured exotic exhibits and sensational death-defying acts. They were here in London on limited engagement before traveling across the empire.

Sophia had never seen anything like it. In fact, it stole her breath at first.

She noticed, however, that although the crowds consisted mostly of working-class folks and merchants, other gentlemen and ladies were present as well. She could reassure herself she was not doing something so very scandalous after all.

But what would Harold say? Or his father and mother? What would Mr. Scofield and her mother say if they knew she were here alone, with a man to whom she’d not been properly introduced?

As Captain Brookes protectively guided her through the crowds, somehow, in that moment, none of it mattered.

For even though she was acting impetuously, risking her engagement and reputation even, she’d never felt safer in her entire life. “To where have you traveled, Captain?” She was suddenly curious to know more about him. “Have you ever seen a lion in the wild?”

His teeth gleamed white as he smiled back at her. “India, Africa, of course the Peninsula and all throughout the continent. I never made it to the Americas, though. And in answer to your other question, I have not. I’ve met men who have, however, in fact, I attended one of their funerals.”

“So, they are dangerous, then?”

He paused a moment before answering her. “They feel threatened by man. They’ve grown to learn that men are hunters. They’ve seen the effects of a weapon. Our relationship between them has developed into one of sportsmanship and fear. And so yes, they are dangerous.”

“Do you enjoy travelling?” Would he regret settling down? He’d said he was going to become a country gentleman. This was somehow difficult to imagine, and yet, she could not see him uncomfortable in any situation. He seemed to be so… adaptable.

“I am intrigued by different cultures. Huge populations of people see the world in a completely different light than we, the British, the so-called civilized world do. Some worship animals. Some believe our spirits pass through to different beings after death. They eat different foods, with exotic spices and meats. Some won’t eat meat at all, for they believe it to have as much of a soul as you and I.”

Sophia peppered him with questions as he maneuvered her through the crowds. What would it be like to travel to such places? His descriptions and answers gradually opened an entirely new paradigm in her mind.

Occasionally, he’d point out one exhibit or another, noting something unique or amusing. She held his arm comfortably and only released it when he reached into his pocket to pay for the confectionary he’d purchased for them to share.

He handed the paper-wrapped pastry to her and paid the vendor. It was covered in powdered sugar and smelled heavenly. She’d not had tea today; the last time she’d had anything to eat was first thing this morning. She took a bite, and then a little larger one. As she did so, the other end of the pastry flipped up and rubbed against the tip of her nose. A few crumbs got away from her and fell into her décolletage.

Captain Brookes’ eyes teased as he watched her, but they weren’t mocking. Instead, they laughed with her, reveled in her enjoyment, it seemed, of such a simple treat.

He was having fun with her!

Sophia was so very aware of his presence, of his every move, his every breath. He reached out, holding a folded handkerchief as though he would wipe the sugar away, but then stopped himself.

“What is it?” He looked to be suddenly fascinated by something.

And then he leaned forward and touched his lips to the side of her nose. Shocked but intrigued, she froze. The texture of his tongue lingered on her skin as he licked the sugar off. Surely, she was going to turn into a puddle of liquid, right here, in the middle of the circus!

The corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned, unashamedly. “I could not pass up such temptation as Sophia Babineaux embellished with sugar.”

What did one say to that?

Heat rushed up her neck and into her face as she looked down at the pastry. Not knowing exactly how to respond, she lifted it to his lips.

Smiling devilishly, he tilted his head forward and tore off a bite with just his teeth.

Oh, Lord, help me!

She ought not to have allowed Rhoda to leave her alone in his rakishly charming company. She cleared her throat and forced her mind to come up with some coherent conversation. “Will you take me to the lions’ den?”

He smiled.

And then he chuckled.

“Your wish is my command.” They strolled past several vendor booths. Brookes’ mind was obviously not as befuddled as hers, as he easily pursued proper conversation.

“Tell me about your family, Miss Babineaux.”

For the second time in two days, she was to discuss her unusual parentage. She spoke mostly of her mother and the few memories she had of her father. She only mentioned her stepbrother and her stepfather as necessary.

“Your stepbrother,” the Captain said, “he is older than you?”

Sophia nodded. “By four years.” But what a difference it had made. “Oh, there he is!” Spotting the lion, Sophia tugged Captain Brookes’ arm until they reached the tiny space closed off with bars. In large black, bold letters, the word DANGER was printed on a sign at the back of the cage. Below it, a drawing illustrated the lion ripping off a man’s head.

“It would not be so very bad, I think,” she said, “if they were to be given a larger space to wonder about, with rocks and ponds and streams. A place where they could have their needs met and take some exercise.”

Captain Brookes rocked on his heels beside her. “Still a cage, though, Sophia.”

“I suppose you are right,” she said on a sigh. “You don’t hunt, do you?”

“Not unless it’s necessary. There have been times when my battalion would not have eaten had we not hunted.”

He was too perfect, this man. His words appealed to her soul.

This was troubling.

This gentleman, this total stranger, seemed to understand her better than her fiancé did — better than even her closest of friends!

But Harold did love her. He’d said so, hadn’t he? Of course, he had! And Harold would care for her and eventually, her mother as well. As she so often did when she was not having a care, her next thoughts slipped out of her mouth.

“I do like you, Captain Brookes.” And she smiled at him. She did like him!

He could be a friend. A respected acquaintance.

Yes, they could be friends.

Except for the kissing… and the licking of sugar on one’s nose…

An overturned log lay beside them and Captain Brookes placed one booted foot upon it. He then draped one arm across his knee and leaned toward her. “Sophia,” he said, suddenly quite serious, “do you like this fiancé of yours?”

Oh!

How had she told him such a thing!

He was an honorable man.

“What must you think of me?” She turned her head away, but with tender fingers, he brought her chin back around so that she would look at him.

“Do you love him?”

What was she doing? “I thought I did.” She couldn’t lie. “He is a kind and gentle man. He is always good to me. He is not arrogant. He will not control me or be cruel to me in any way. And my family is so happy that I am finally engaged.” She stared at him openly. “I haven’t much of a dowry. My stepfather made some poor investments a few years back, and those funds were tied up with them… But since I’ve become engaged, everybody is dreadfully relieved. My mother appears ten years younger. I haven’t seen her smile so much in ages.”

This man, this man she’d only just met, watched her closely. It was as though he peered into her soul. He was a good listener — too good of a listener, in fact.

“Does he love you?”

“He has said that he does, I think. I was so happy when he proposed that I cannot remember exactly what was said, but I believe he said something to that effect. He said he esteemed me greatly, yes, I think he said he loved me.”

Captain Brookes tilted his head slightly. “Are you happy for it?”

Sophia gave him what she knew, most assuredly was a pained expression. “Oh, Captain, I had thought I was! I was so relieved to have matters settled! But now…” She looked down at her hands, hands which were suddenly cradled in his.

“Have I ruined it for you?”

“I don’t know!” she said. “You have and yet… even before I met you, I think I was beginning to have doubts. And then when you kissed me… Your kiss…”

He dropped his foot to the ground and moved forward, protecting her display of emotions from curious passersby. “Hush, hush. I didn’t mean to upset you, Sophia. But I am not unaffected by you either. If you were to become free, somehow, I would have you know that I would court you.” He rubbed his hand along her back. Luckily, a large post stood between them and the vendor-lined corridor. “I would not have chosen such a public setting to have this discussion.”

And then Sophia laughed a little.

For spying them from just a few feet away, with only the bars to separate them, was the lion. “This lion is going to know all of our secrets, Captain.”

“Devlin — Dev.” His lips were only inches from hers.

Sophia’s heart raced, and the sounds of the carnival around them faded into a vortex of emotions.

Sophia had never felt so flustered in her life. “I do not expect, nor think you ought to be compelled to say such things merely because…” Did he feel guilt for kissing her when they had been trapped together?

“Not merely because.” He glanced over her shoulder at the lion and stared thoughtfully before pinning her with his gaze once again. “I want you to know, sweet Sophia, that you have choices. I am not wealthy, by any means…”

She looked up at him, pained despite her laughter mere moments before. “I am so confused, and yet I am not confused at all. I do know, however—” She took a deep breath. “—that I must return home soon. My mother is already going to be wondering...”

He watched her with an intensity that nearly caused her knees to buckle. But then, as though coming to some sort of a decision, he reached into his front pocket and removed a small pencil. Tearing a piece of paper off the pastry wrapper, he jotted down some scribbles and numbers. “These are my directions. If you have need. Promise me, if anything changes, you will send word. The top number is my place of lodging in England and the bottom my new residence in Surrey.”

She would cherish his writing forever. She handed him what remained of the pastry and tucked his note into her reticule. Did she, she wondered? Have choices? The idea provoked her.

Just as quickly as the thought came to her, she froze and felt all the blood drain from her face.

For across the corridor, in front of the cage that housed a black panther, her stepbrother, Dudley, stood watching. Shaking his head in disapproval, he met her eyes mockingly. He then pushed himself away from the display and disappeared into the crowd.

Dudley could be devious. If he were anything like a brother, he would come to her, advise her in kindness, that she ought not to be seen in public with a man who was not her fiancé. Even a stepbrother would want only to protect her and keep her from finding herself in a dangerous or upsetting situation. He would offer her his escort home, and perhaps chastise her gently.

Not Dudley.

No, Dudley would lie in wait, much like the panther he’d been standing near. He would wait until she was at her most vulnerable and then pounce, so as to create as much injury as possible. His reputation preceded him.