Simon and Ravenna accompanied Heath and Julia to a small Mayfair soirée that night. During supper Heath confided in Simon that he’d gathered some information from his contacts in the metropolis.

“It’s not much,” Heath said. “And not about Bruxton. Sir David vacated his Piccadilly lodgings three hours after he climbed out of the rag-and-bone cart. The premises are empty. He’s paid up for another month.”

The news should have brightened Simon’s mood. He should have been able to devote his attention to Ravenna. Instead, he anticipated menace. As he’d feared he made a miserable suitor. He withdrew into himself when he should have enjoyed her company, encouraged her to forget their worries for a night. She deserved a lighthearted fiancé and not the hard cynic he tended to be.

He stared down the young gallants who vied for her attention at the after-supper dance until one by one they scurried off. He wasn’t merely jealous. He was suspicious of their motives. Who was it safe to trust? Julia sat out the dance with Heath. Simon would have been relieved to join them, but Aunt Glynnis was analyzing his every move and he doubted he could conceal his desire for Ravenna from her family. He also doubted he could avoid mentioning Sir David’s visit earlier; the subject of depositing a man in rubbish cart made for crude dance conversation.

“Why do you look so melancholy, Simon?” she whispered as the first set ended.

“Am I supposed to encourage the upstarts who admire you in my view? What would they dare if I weren’t here to glare them off?”

A smile played about her lips. “What am I to do about the ladies who sigh in longing when you enter a room?”

“I am not a vulnerable young virgin,” he said bluntly. “No one will entrap me in a compromising position.”

“I did,” she murmured.

“You are the exception.”

“I am not likely to fall under the spell of any other scapegrace but you,” she said, tapping her toe in rhythm to the band. “When I arrived in London, Jane gave me a list of ladies and gentlemen whose acquaintance I should avoid. Can you guess whose name appeared at the top?”

“The Earl of Crawford? Byron? No, he is off in Italy, isn’t he?” Her bosom rested against the crook of his elbow. She felt unbearably soft and fragile compared to him, and yet she thought herself invulnerable. How was he supposed to contain his emotions when in a few days they would become a man and wife? “I think I should have a talk with Jane,” he muttered.

“Why? She’s on your side now.”

“Our side,” he corrected her.

Her blue eyes sparkled. “Are you a jealous lover, Simon?” she inquired behind her fan.

“Apparently, although I never thought of myself as such until now.”

“Are you faithful?”

“Never doubt it,” he said with feeling. “You are quite enough woman for a dozen gentlemen. In fact, I want to kiss you right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He lowered his head. “Would you allow me?”

“Yes. If Heath weren’t staring daggers at the back of your head.”

“I can dodge daggers. Do you know how captivating you are?”

“You’ll have years to tell me. Or to discover otherwise.”

His eyes gleamed with promise. “I’ll have years for many things. Is Heath still staring?”

“Not at this precise -- ”

He took her fan from her hand, raised it to conceal her face, and stilled the rest of her sentence with a light kiss on the lips. “Oh,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I know. I have been turned to stone. Don’t bump against me or I’ll bruise you.”

She recovered her fan from his hand, whispering, “And Heath saw.”

“I am in agony,” he said softly. “But it was worth it. Considering how desperately I want you, I’m demonstrating more than ducal restraint.”

She giggled. “Have you seen Rhys tonight?”

He cleared his throat. “Not since this afternoon. But then as much as I admire your brother, I’m more taken with you.”

She glanced around the room, fanning the blush from her cheeks. Bewitched by her reaction, he almost missed her next words.

“It occurs to me that with all our attention targeted on each other, we might not notice someone else behaving in an unseemly manner.”

He inclined his head in agreement. Another couple brushed against them, and his hand shot out to draw her into the safety of his arms. He would have given anything at that moment to be alone with her, to be deep inside her. She had no inkling of how unseemly he wanted to be.

He swallowed. “My powers of observation are definitely diminished when you are near.” Which was a polite way of saying that she turned him into a tempest and that such a state of internal unrest hardly encouraged critical thinking.

She looked at him directly. “That’s not the first time you’ve made it sound as if we’ve been betrothed for decades instead of days. You don’t have to act the part of a smitten fiancé when we’re alone.”

He stared down into her sweetly inquisitive face and knew he could not mislead her much longer. “I might have difficulty concentrating on anything except you, but I do possess certain instincts that I should have followed sooner.”

“Regarding Susannah?”

“She is one of my regrets.”

“You are keeping something from me?” she asked adroitly.

“If I am, you’ll learn of it eventually. It’s more of a personal embarrassment than a secret, to be honest. I’m a private man, but I’m not a spymaster like your cousin. I don’t write love letters in code.”

She raised her brow. “Is your secret too embarrassing to tell me?”

“I am working up the nerve. Will you promise not to laugh?”

“No,” she said frankly.

“That’s what I mean,” he said with a reluctant smile.

“Fine. I won’t laugh. I promise. Cross my heart.” She lowered her shining eyes. “I’m more curious to learn about love than whatever it is that embarrasses you. Unless the two matters are related, which is a tantalizing consideration.”

Fire flashed through his blood. He felt impatient and recklessly inclined to ignore every gentlemanly precept he had ever been taught. In a voice that hinted of his thoughts, he said, “I shall satisfy your inquisitive side very soon. Bear in mind, though, that I’ve never been beguiled by a woman I so ardently desired. The results could be more than either of us bargained for.”

“Would you prefer I discuss something less controversial?”

“I prefer that you be yourself,” he said. “If you suddenly became a paragon I wouldn’t know who I was marrying. Nor would I talk intimately on a dance floor to anyone else.”

“Have you ever been engaged before, Simon?”

“Never came close.”

She looked away. “Jane heard gossip that you’re a splendid lover.”

He stared at her. The woman kept him on his toes. “How in the name -- do not tell me. It’s probably in my favor to encourage these rumors.” It couldn’t hurt for her to come to his bed with enthusiasm. Now it remained for him to live up to whatever improbable legend he had inspired. He was in every way up for the challenge.

“Are you a splendid lover?” she prompted.

“You shall decide that and the matter of my decadence in a few days.” Indeed, he was counting the hours until he could satisfy her curiosity and claim her in all the ways a husband took his wife. In his mind he was sweeping her up in his arms and storming from the house for a thorough ravishment. Not that Ravenna would tolerate that sort of nonsense. Or would she? No matter, something stronger than willpower stopped him from acting on any of his Anglo-Norman impulses.

A breath of menace had stolen through the stuffy atmosphere. His skin crawled. The enemy had arrived; a light-haired noblemen in a long silk cape was wending his way through the spectators at the edge of the dance floor.

Simon stepped in front of Ravenna, defending her unthinkingly. “On watch now, darling. Stay close to the family. We shall waltz another time.”

“Is it the earl?” she asked, idly fanning herself. “You look as though Satan had just walked through the door.”

“Yes. I regret now that we came. I do not want his eyes to befoul you. I understood that he’d canceled at the last minute. I wonder what made him change his mind.”

“Give me the chance to form my own impressions,” she said under her breath. “You might miss something that I perceive.”

“Perhaps you are right. You are more detached than I am. My mind has been poisoned against him. But, still, I wish we had missed this dance.” He raised his chin. “I don’t fancy losing my temper in front of you.”

“Then I will keep your temper in check.” She took his arm in gentle reassurance. “I grew up with three boys who battled morning, noon, and night.”