Lady Daffodil stood in front of the stove and willed herself not to shed tears. Not that anyone was there to notice. Well, her brother, Jacob, would see that she cried but he wouldn’t judge her. He’d most likely think any drops of liquid leaking from her eyes had been caused by all the smoke currently filling the room.

“You did better this time, Petal.” He used her pet nickname that he’d given her as a small boy. Now that he was fifteen, he rarely used such affections. But apparently, he thought she needed the comfort today.

Not that she didn’t appreciate the gesture but as she took the smoking roast out of the oven, a single tear leaked from her right eye. Fortunately, she had to squeeze them both shut as more smoke billowed from its belly so her distress most likely went unnoticed. “Doing better does not fill our stomachs. This was our last bit of meat.”

He straightened his shoulders and patted her arm. “I’ll trim it like I did last time. I’m sure we can eat some of it.”

Daffodil didn’t answer as she waved a dishrag to try and clear the smoke. She sometimes wondered if being the middle child made her the most worthless. She was eighteen, a full three years older than Jacob, and yet here he was comforting her. Not to mention she’d nearly completed her family’s shame after her father had passed away and left them almost penniless.

Her eldest sister, Violette, had left with their mother to meet several potential suitors. What was Daffodil doing to aid her family’s crisis? Burning food.

In her defense, as a lady, she’d never learned to cook. But as their money had dwindled, so had their staff. Their one remaining servant, who had stayed behind to chaperone them, had fallen and was currently bedridden. Daffodil pushed back the fresh tears and told herself that crying wouldn’t help. But she wished her mother or her sister were here.

Jacob set to work trying to carve up the roast as she watched over his shoulder. But Daffodil’s thoughts immediately turned to Violette. How were her visits going? Had she made a match?

But then she felt guilty. She didn’t wish a terrible husband on her sister. She hoped for Violette to find happiness, not just settle for the first man who would take her. Still, their situation grew desperate and it fell to Violette to save them.

She wasn’t able to think on their dilemma further as the pounding of feet on the servants’ stairs alerted her that she and Jacob were not alone. She straightened, fear trickling down her back. Or was that sweat? Who could possibly be here? Turning, she watched in horror as the kitchen door swung open.

“What the bloody hell is happening down here?” A stranger’s deep baritone voice boomed through the smoke-filled air. Daffodil squinted into the smoke, trying to see who it could be. She stepped in front of Jacob, wanting to protect him but wondering what she might possibly do. “And why is no one answering the door?”

“Get behind me, Petal,” Jacob called, shoving her to the side and behind his larger body as he swung the knife about like a rapier.

“Jacob,” she gasped. That caused her to breathe in a great deal more smoke and then to begin violently coughing.

Forgetting all about the stranger, Jacob turned back to her still holding the knife. “Petal? Are you all right?”

Daffodil couldn’t answer for a moment before finally, tears now streaming down her face from all the coughing, she pushed out, “Didn’t I tell you that my cooking would be the death of one of us?”

A hearty chuckle reminded her that they were not alone. But before she could do anything, strong arms lifted her off her feet and cradled her against a massive chest. Its rock-hard muscle made her gasp again, which in turn made her cough all the more.

“Let’s get you out of here.” His deep voice rumbled through his chest, reverberating through her even as his strong arms held her tight. “Is the house going to burn down?”

She shook her head and then mentally chastised herself. He couldn’t see her through all the smoke. “No, only the roast and my sense of self-worth has suffered.”

He didn’t laugh openly, but it shook his chest, pushing against her body in a way that put her at ease.

“Come on, Jacob,” he called to her brother. “We’ve much to discuss.”

Daffodil knew that she should demand he put her down, insist he tell her who he was and why he had barged into their home uninvited. But as he sheltered her, for just a moment, she closed her eyes and leaned her full weight into his strong arms. She was tired.

A memory of another man holding her caused her to stiffen. She knew better than to trust any man but one who barged into her home and just plucked her into his arms…she needed to keep her wits about her.

How did Violette carry her burdens so effortlessly? She’d grown to appreciate her sister’s efforts these past weeks a great deal.

As they made their way down the hall, the smoke cleared and Daffodil looked up to the man who carried her. Her eyes widened as she assessed his features. She noted his strong jaw first, a day’s growth of beard making it appear rough and masculine. His eyes were a distinctive shade of blue, dark and stormy that only added to the air of mystery about him. Dark hair curled about his collar and ears, and she wished to reach up and touch it. Highly inappropriate, she knew, but then again, he was carrying her.

“Where is the nearest sitting room?” He looked down at her then and her breath stopped. Though his nose was slightly crooked, as though it had been broken, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. While his features were strong and masculine, there was a softness in his eyes and lips that made her breathless.

She reminded herself to breathe as she tried to speak, but no words came out. Silly girl, she chastised herself. She knew better than to allow her tongue to get tied.

“The only one we use is upstairs and to the right.” Jacob called behind her.

“Why is that the only one you use?” The man looked about their townhouse. She could see him noting the blank walls, the dirty lights.

“Of all the questions you could be asking, that seems the least important.” Pushing the words out made her realize that she ought to have him put her down. Daffodil tried to sit up a little in his arms, suddenly feeling at a disadvantage. The entire exchange was so inappropriate.

“Quite right, my little Petal.” He tightened his arms, looked down at her, and gave her a breathtaking grin. It was full of mischief, the kind she hadn’t experienced in ages. Life had become so serious of late.

She raised her brows. “I am capable of walking now, thank you.”

His grin only widened as he leaned down and whispered close to her ear, “But I like carrying you.” His breath tickled her skin, causing the hair on her neck to stand on end.

“You’re a rogue, sir,” she replied, softly so that Jacob couldn’t hear. She didn’t want to alarm him as he trailed just behind.

“Guilty,” he replied. “But on my honor I am only here to help you.”

She had no choice but to place her hands on his shoulders and pull herself up so that she wasn’t quite so vulnerable. “The honor of a rogue?”

Rex pushed down another chuckle. He would not laugh again out of respect, but honestly, this had been the most eventful meeting with a woman in his entire life. And that included the belly dancer he’d met in a port in Spain. First of all, Daffodil was everything and nothing that he thought she’d be. He’d heard of her beauty and she didn’t disappoint. Dark hair and warm brown eyes, with delicate features that called to everything male in him, and a body made for sin. Though he hadn’t actually seen her figure, he could feel every curve pressed up against him.

In fact, as she pulled herself to sitting in his arms, her rather large breasts pushed into his chest. They were…glorious. She wasn’t wearing a corset, which was odd for a lady of her station. Unfortunately, this was one of his many questions and it was inappropriate to ask. At least not yet.

What he hadn’t expected was for her to be funny, quite charming really. Most beautiful women he met didn’t take the time to develop any qualities of character. They were too busy admiring themselves in some form or another.

She pursed her full pink lips as her eyes narrowed. It only added to, rather than detracted from, her beauty. “Put me down.”

He ignored her, hiding his grin. He’d knocked on the front door of the Chase townhouse for several minutes before he’d realized it was open. The moment he walked in, he could smell the smoke. It hadn’t taken long to follow the scent to the kitchen. “I’ve been tasked with safely delivering you to the Duke of Waverly and I take my duties very seriously.”

“I beg your pardon.” She sat up straighter and her chest pushed further into his even as her behind wiggled against his hand. Hellfire, not even a saint could withstand the assault. He tried to remember a woman who’d felt better in his arms but he was having trouble remembering…well any of them, really. “The Duke of Waverly sent you? Why?”

“He is marrying your sister. I am to deliver you to the wedding,” he answered simply. He didn’t add that it was a fake wedding. That Theodore, or Theo, had already married Violette in a secret ceremony over a week ago. He’d leave that bit for Violette to share, or not share, with her sister.

Those beautiful brown eyes widened and her lush lips fell open. “Marrying a duke?” Then she blinked several times before she drew in a ragged breath. “Stop,” she said suddenly.

He halted his brow scrunching as he looked at her. Why had they stopped? Why was she crying? Why had she been cooking, how had she burned it so completely, and why wasn’t she wearing a corset? Was she always this interesting or was this a unique situation? He gave his head a little shake to rid it of the list of questions that threatened to send his mind reeling out of control. “Why?”

“You’ve gone past our sitting room,” she answered looking to a door just behind him.

“Is it the only one? The house appears large enough to hold multiple.” He simply had to let one question out and it seemed the safest though he likely already knew the answer. He knew Daffodil’s sister had been actively seeking a match because their financial situation was desperate. But this bad?

She looked down then nibbling on her lip. He wanted to nibble it too. Fire shot through his body, settling in his loins. “It’s the only we’ve kept in good enough nick for guests.”

A little pang made his chest tighten. He turned and entered the sitting room. He wasn’t looking forward to setting her down. “Of course, Petal, my apologies.”

She let out a little huff, her sweet breath blowing across his face. “I am Lady Daffodil to you, sir, whoever you are.”

He couldn’t hold back the grin this time. “Lord Casterly, if we’re going to be formal.”

She paled and he watched her swallow. “My apologies, my lord. I did not mean to be…” her voice trailed off.

“Impertinent?” he asked, unable to help himself.

She clicked her tongue, eyes darting back up to his. “One of us is impertinent.”

He full-out laughed. “Well played.” Reluctantly he set her on her feet but he kept his hands at her waist. He liked them there and, honestly, after the coughing she’d done, he was worried.

Her hands were still at his shoulders and she tilted her head up to look in his eyes. With her face tilted up to his, he had the mad desire to kiss her. “My sister. Is she all right? Is she excited about the match?”

Rex blinked. He did not lower his head as he wanted to, but he did tighten his hands at her waist. “She is very happy. They make a wonderful couple.”

Her pulse fluttered rapidly at the base of her throat and then she lowered her forehead to his shoulder, her breathing ragged. He didn’t understand her reaction, another question he’d like to ask. “Did you hear that, Jacob? Happy with a duke.”

Rex glanced over, to see Jacob nod. “We’ll find you a duke too, Petal.”

Bloody hell. What was wrong with an earl?