It was early when the laborer shuffled into the Black Hart Inn. "My name's Wussell," he said to the innkeeper. "Is this where the lady was stole from?"

The innkeeper winced. He'd never live this down. On the other hand, business was booming as people came to see the premises from which the Wild Man had abducted a modest English maiden. "This is the place. For tuppence you can see the room where it took place. Some of the savage's gear is still there." Wussell twisted his cap in his hands. "I'm not here for that. Yesterday I saw the brute and think I know where he might have taken the lady. They say her father is staying here?"

The innkeeper bustled off, and within five minutes Sir William emerged from a private breakfast room. "Searchers have been scouring the countryside without result," he said brusquely, "yet you claim to know where my daughter is?"

"Won't swear to it, but yesterday afternoon I caught a glimpse of a shaggy, naked brute riding with a lady in front of him." Wussell pondered. "She had red hair. Right pretty she was."

"A pity you didn't come forward yesterday, when there was still time to save her virtue!" the baronet snarled. "Heaven only knows what that savage might have done with her last night. She might be lying dead even as we speak."

Wussell shrugged. "Didn't know he was a savage. Thought he was just a member of the gentry being odd. There's no accounting for the gentry. Wasn't till this morning that the milkmaid told me about your daughter being abducted. Came as soon as I could."

"We must collect a party and rescue her," Sir William said. "Where is she being held?" Correctly interpreting Wussell's vague expression, the baronet dug into his pocket and produced his purse. "Will five pounds help your memory?"

"Reckon it would." Wussell accepted the money. "They were riding down the lane that leads to Orchard Cottage. This morning after I heard, I went to take a look. It's supposed to be empty, but there was smoke coming from the chimney, so I came here."

Sir William bellowed, "Innkeeper, find me some men! And make sure they're armed!"

* * *

To go to bed with passion and wake up with laughter was even better than Roxanne had imagined. Dominick's head was pillowed on her shoulder and his arm draped over her waist. His face relaxed and peaceful, he was a bonny sight. It awed her to think that, God willing, they would be waking up like this for many years to come.

When she stretched lazily, trying not to disturb him, his eyes opened. There was wariness in the depths, as if he feared that she regretted what she had done.

Wanting to eliminate that doubt, she said teasingly, "I had no idea that it was so delightful to be ruined."

His tension disappeared and he gave her a smile that took her breath away, his gray eyes lucent with joy. "You're not ruined. You're better than ever. And so am I." His arm tightened around her. "I have trouble believing this is real, not just another dream. That finally we're together as we were always meant to be."

"In a dream, one isn't hungry, so this must be reality," she said pragmatically.

He laughed. "We'll have the rest of the eggs for breakfast. Then it's off to London for that special license. "

She made a face. "My father must be half out of his mind with worry. I really can't leave without telling him."

Dominick sighed. "I suppose you're right, but there will be hell to pay when he recognizes me."

She gave him a light kiss. "I don't expect that Papa will be best pleased, but he has no power to forbid me from marrying where I choose."

He kissed her back, not at all lightly. One thing led to another, and half an hour passed most enjoyably. Making love in the daylight had a special kind of intimacy. As he held her gaze with his, she breathlessly decided that she could grow very fond of it.

As they sprawled together in a tangle of damp, naked limbs, a shotgun blasted outside the cottage and a deep voice bellowed, "We know you're in there, Chand-a-la! Send Miss Mayfield out right now. If she's hurt, you're a dead man!"

Roxanne squeaked and sat bolt upright while Dominick rolled from the bed and grabbed for his scattered clothing. "Bloody hell, now we're in for it! I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to pitch you into the middle of a scandal. We'll have to take that tropical honeymoon until the gossip dies down."

She dived from the bed and began yanking on her own garments, her heart pounding in panic. As soon as they saw her, every man out there was going to know exactly what she had been doing! Not that she was ashamed of her actions, but she would rather that all Devonshire didn't know.

Shotgun pellets rattled against the cottage wall, shattering a window. "Damnation!" Dominick swiftly pulled Roxanne to one side. "You'd better tell them you're all right, but don't stand in front of the window to do it."

Frantically she yelled, "Don't worry, I'm fine. I'll be out in a moment."

A familiar voice bellowed, "Is that really you, Roxanne?"

"My father!" she said with horror. Raising her voice, she replied, "Yes, Papa, it's really me."

Wordlessly Dominick fastened the back of her gown. His touch helped soothe her fear. She gave an unhappy thought to her hair, but if she delayed to fix it, the men outside might come in after her, and that could be disastrous.

She headed toward the front door. Before she could open it, Dominick took her hand. "We'll go out together."

She tried to disengage his clasp. "They might shoot you."

"They're looking for the Wild Man, not an English gentleman, so I'll be safe enough," he said reasonably. "Besides, I don't want to let you out of my sight ever again." He accompanied his words with a quick kiss.

Certainly he looked every inch a gentleman, not a savage. She was foolish to be so concerned. Yet she could not escape the fear that her newfound happiness was about to be shattered forever. Raising her chin, she led the way outside.

There was an instant of silence. Then her father roared, "Damn you to hell, Chandler! What are you doing with my daughter?"

When Roxanne flinched, Dominick murmured, "How nice to know that one hasn't been forgotten." Raising his voice, he said, "I've come to claim my bride after too long a betrothal! I hope you will wish us happy."

Face red with fury, Sir William stormed out of the shrubbery, several men behind him. "Wish you happy! You, you criminal! Did you hire that filthy savage to kidnap Roxanne?"

"Not at all," was the calm reply. "I am that filthy savage."

The baronet's jaw dropped as he stared at Dominick's face. When he recognized the eyes and features of Chand-a-la, he gasped, "You imposter! How dare you mock the scholarly pursuit of knowledge."

One of the searchers said with interest, "Well, I'll be, this gent here is the Wild Man." A murmur rose from the others.

Sir William snapped, "You lot get out of earshot. We have private matters to discuss."

With obvious reluctance, the other men withdrew and settled down to watch the show. Dominick waited until they were out of range, then said, "No subterfuge would have been necessary if you hadn't separated us for your own selfish reasons. But this time you will fail. My mother is dead, and there is nothing you can say to make me give Roxanne up."

Sir William appeared on the verge of explosion. Turning his attention to his daughter, he said, "Have you no shame? Allowing yourself to be seduced by this fortune hunter! Not only did he viciously extort money on the promise that he would leave you alone, but he has broken his solemn word never to see you again."

"A vow extracted under duress is not valid," Dominick pointed out.

Glaring, the baronet said, "What's your price this time? Since you've already ruined her, I won't pay as much as before, but it would be worth a couple of hundred pounds to get rid of you again."

"You never paid me a penny, Mayfield," Dominick said coldly. "I've told Roxanne the truth about how you falsified that document, so don't think you can deceive her this time."

For a moment the baronet appeared off balance. Then he said to his daughter, "You believed him? The man's a liar through and through. Having ruined God only knows how many other females in the last ten years, now he's back for another go at you."

"He loves me, Papa, and I'll not let you come between us." Though Roxanne's words were brave, Dominick saw that her fragile confidence was eroding under her father's bullying.

Sir William's contemptuous glance raked down her. "You're hardly the sort to catch the fancy of a man of the world."

"Don't speak to her that way!" Dominick snapped. "Any man would be proud to have Roxanne as a wife."

Despite his words, her face paled and her hand slipped out of his. Dear God, he was losing her! Even though her blazing hair still rioted around her small face, she was reverting to the meek, colorless woman who had come to the inn, and he didn't know how to prevent it from happening.

Pressing his advantage, the baronet said, "Have you no more brains than a goose? Chandler is after your fortune, for after I die, you'll be a considerable heiress. If you go with him, he'll live off your expectations. When he can't wring any more credit out of the moneylenders, he'll leave you flat. He's done it before, at least twice to my knowledge. Even if he goes through a marriage ceremony with you, it will be bigamous and illegal."

"No," she cried, horrified. "That can't be true."

"You're damned right it isn't!" Dominick said sharply. "I've never been wed, and have been betrothed only to Roxanne. For ten long years."

Simultaneously Sir William said, "It's all true, and more. I've followed Chandler's disgusting career for years." His lip curled. "Who are you going to believe? The father who has raised and protected you all your life, or a sly, deceitful rake?"

When her stark gaze went to him, Dominick said with anguish, "My God, Roxanne, after all that has passed between us, how can you not trust me?"

Her face mirroring the doubts warring within her, she said wretchedly, "I want to believe you, but…but I've never known my father to lie."

Dominick's eyes narrowed as he looked at the baronet. "On the contrary, he lies so well and so smoothly that I now wonder about the story he told me ten years ago, that my father was responsible for a young woman's suicide."

Ignoring him, Sir William said piously, "It's a sad day when a daughter doubts her father's word."

She pressed her hands to her temples, looking as if she was about to faint. She whispered, "Dominick?"

He shuddered and his hands clenched into fists. "I've told you the truth," he said tightly. "It's my word against his, and you're going to have to decide whom you believe."

As she stared at him, paralyzed with indecision, her father put his arm around her shoulders and said in a gentler tone, "Come home, Roxanne. You've been a fool, but you're still my daughter. I'll pretend that this unfortunate incident never happened. We can go on the way we were."

As he tried to usher her away, she gave Dominick an agonized glance. His eyes were anguished, but he made didn't try to stop her. He would not want a woman who did not have the courage to fight for his love as he had fought for hers.

She looked at her father and was sickened to see triumph in his eyes. He thought he'd won, and took more pleasure in defeating Dominick than he had ever shown in being a parent.

Which of the men had demonstrated love by his actions? Dominick, not her father, who had systematically undermined all her friendships until her life was as narrow as that of a nun. And which of the men did she truly love? Again, the answer was Dominick.

Wrenching away from her father, she said in a shaking voice, "I owe you a daughter's duty, Papa, but if you force me to choose between you, I choose Dominick!"

Unsteadily she turned to walk toward her lover. In two quick strides he closed the distance and swept her into his arms. "Dear God, Roxanne," he said hoarsely, his hand stroking her hair over and over. "I thought I'd lost you for good this time!"

"I'm sorry I doubted you," she whispered.

He hugged her more tightly. "Doubt is human. What matters is that you have the strength to follow your heart."

As she hid her face in his shoulder, she knew she had made the right choice.

But her father had not yet surrendered. “If you go with that man, you're no longer my daughter!" he shouted furiously. "I'll leave my fortune to the British Museum! See how long he stays once you're a pauper, and don't expect me to take you back."

"I don't want or need Roxanne's inheritance, Sir William,” Dominick snapped. "Frankly, 1 think she would be better off if she never saw you again, but I shan't forbid her to communicate with you. It's up to you whether you have a relationship with her and any future grandchildren."

Heart aching, Roxanne turned to look at her father. Though he'd not been the most affectionate of parents, he was all the family she had, and it would hurt bitterly if he refused to ever see her again.

His face bore a desperate expression she'd never seen before. In a voice of raw anguish, he hissed, "Damnation, Roxanne, this man's father eloped with your mother!"