Vaughn lounged against the wall at the back of the large drawing room which was already full of gentlemen in their evening clothes. He did not feel like joining in their conversations at the moment. The ladies had been coming down in pairs for the last hour before dinner, but there was no sign of Perdita.

He didn’t like it. She wasn’t the sort of woman who took overly long preparing herself for dinner. Guilt gnawed at him. He worried that what he’d done in the woods had been a step too far. She had been pale and withdrawn on the journey back, and he hadn’t been able to coax her out of her thoughts, even to tell him more about her love of science. He’d even teased her about the names of constellations, pronouncing them wrong, but she hadn’t corrected him.

The distant look in her eyes had eaten away at his confidence. He’d never worried about his actions with a woman before, but with Perdita everything he did mattered.

Did I push too much? Demand something she couldn’t give? Most gently bred ladies did not enjoy his particular flavor of passion—the commands, the obedience, the edge of pain blurring into pleasure. It was why he never seduced innocents and kept his activities restricted to widows and mistresses who shared his hungers.

When he’d kissed Perdita today in the woods, she’d surrendered so sweetly and had turned his world on its axis, shifting everything like tumbling sands in an hourglass. He was still unsettled at how perfect she was, how much it had tested his self-control not to take her there and then. But perhaps he had seen only what he wanted to see. Perhaps she had been afraid of him and not truly interested in him.

Was he so starved for a woman’s touch that he’d misread her? Was she even now hiding from him because she was too ashamed of what had happened, afraid he would do it again? He couldn’t bear the thought. He wouldn’t forgive himself if it turned out he’d had it all wrong. But before he could seek her out to apologize, the door opened at the far end of the room and Perdita appeared.

She wore a ruby-red silk gown with a flounced hem trimmed in white lace, as though snowflakes had been caught on the lush fabric. Her bodice was embroidered with tiny flowers, and puffed sleeves clung to her elegantly sloping shoulders. A few loose dark curls bounced and caressed her creamy skin. Skin that he longed to taste. The woman was a vision of loveliness, and he feared he had ruined any chance of marrying her.

He held his breath, pacing around the room’s edge toward her, watching her as she spoke to other guests. He studied every tilt of her head, every move, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. His blood burned at the thought of her, but fear held him back. At last he decided to speak to her. Perhaps her tone toward him would reveal more.

Perdita’s father stepped in between him and his goal. “Darlington.”

He met the older man’s amused face with smothered frustration. He needed to speak to Perdita, to ask if she was all right. The last person he wanted to speak to was her father, a man who would most likely shoot him if he knew what Vaughn had been up to with his daughter.

“Yes?”

“I have spoken to Perdita, and she’s agreed that making the announcement tonight will be fine. I thought I would make a toast during dinner. Does that suit you?”

“You spoke to her?” Vaughn hung on that single fact, his heart racing. “When?”

Darby tilted his head. “After you returned with the Yule log. I trust things haven’t changed since we spoke this afternoon?”

“No, certainly not. I am just glad to hear she spoke to you.” It gave him a glimmer of hope that perhaps she had enjoyed their time in the woods and that he hadn’t frightened her off. Still, she could just as easily be continuing with her plans to dissuade Milburn’s pursuit.

“She did.” Darby’s eyes held a twinkle. “I admit, I didn’t believe it until she told me how fond she was of you. I won’t deny my daughter her heart’s desire, but”—he leaned in close to Vaughn—“my threat about burying you still stands. You’d best not break her heart, or they will never find you.”

Vaughan nodded slowly in understanding.

“Good.” Darby smacked his shoulder with an open palm and stepped out of his way.

Perdita was alone now, watching him. He could feel the eyes of the room, particularly those of the ladies, tracking him as he and Perdita met. They would whisper behind their fans about this meeting, speculate on every look, every smile or word shared between them. He couldn’t stop them, nor would he try. That was the entire point of this charade—for people to talk, to notice that they were together, and for word of it to reach Milburn over and over until he lost hope of his pursuit.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. She opened her lips, and he found himself afraid of what she might say. He rushed to speak before her. “About today…in the woods.” He looked for any sign of horror at the reminder of that moment. “I didn’t… I shouldn’t have made you do that.”

Perdita’s lips parted even farther, and her eyes widened. “But…” She leaned in closer. “I liked what we did.” She frowned. “Did it not satisfy you?” She raised a gloved hand to her lips, her cheeks pinkening with a sudden blush.

“No!” He reached out to grasp her other hand. “That is to say,” he clarified at her wounded expression, “I did enjoy it. Too much. I feared I’d frightened you, that you’d seen my black heart and it was too much for you.” He faltered when he realized he was confessing to such wild things. Things that no man should say to a woman. He sounded like Vaughn’s friend Ambrose. That fool had rushed headlong into love for Perdita’s friend and never looked back. Vaughn had no intention of falling in love, even with his future wife. He’d always wished to have an affection for his wife, because it would make a marriage happier, but love was too dangerous, too volatile an emotion. He never wanted to risk his black heart for love.

Rather than rush to reassure him or deny that she had been afraid, Perdita raised her chin. Her warm brown eyes seemed to glow with some mixture of amusement and elation.

“Vaughn, if you had tried to do anything to me that I did not wish, I wouldn’t have let you.” Her lips curved into a ghost of a smile, and the wit and confidence he’d feared had left her was back.

Still, he could not resist asking. “But when we came back, you were so quiet. I was worried—”

“The infamous rogue worries over me?” She was still smiling, but for a brief instant, he saw that shadow in her eyes. Then it was gone. “I admit my thoughts were elsewhere,” she said. “But it had nothing to do with you or what transpired between us.”

The flood of relief at her words was surprising. He hadn’t known until that moment just how much he needed her to tell him she was all right.

“Now, I’m afraid we shan’t be sitting close at dinner. Mother has spread us out in the seating arrangements.” Her nose wrinkled as she showed her clear distaste for this arrangement.

“She didn’t put you near…” He gave a slight jerk of his head toward Millburn.

“No, thank heavens.” Perdita’s eyes brightened again. “After dinner, I thought we might talk. We must prepare for him seeing us together, correct? One in private?” Her gaze dropped to his lips, and he could guess what she was truly thinking. The excited gleam in her eyes was impossible to miss. The little minx clearly missed him and all the wicked things he could do. And to think I was concerned she didn’t enjoy it.

She bit her lip. “Oh dear, you’re grinning again.”

“Hmm?” He realized she was right, but he couldn’t stop.

“You worry me when you look like that. Like a wolf looking at a rather plump rabbit.”

His smile widened. “I do like my rabbits plump.” He offered her a playful smirk and won a heated blush from her.

The door to the drawing room opened, and dinner was announced. Vaughn tucked her arm in his with a chuckle.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Remember our time in the library. Whenever I drink from my goblet of wine, I shall be thinking about how you taste.” He felt a shiver ripple through her. That would keep her occupied this evening, because he planned to drink a lot of wine.

The couples convened in the dining room, their voices bouncing through the corridors. Darby House seemed to always be a place of life and delight, no matter the time of year. The gold lamplight glowing on the shimmering evening gowns painted a pretty picture amidst the fine furnishings. There was a lively elegance to it all that spoke of money spent, but spent well. It was nothing like his parents and how they would have run the home.

When his older brother, Edward, had died, the loss had broken his parents’ spirits. They had never been deeply in love as a married couple, but they had shared a love for their eldest son that bound them together in grief. Vaughn hadn’t been given much thought before his brother’s death, and after his passing he became only a forced interest. His father had retreated to his club, and the debts soon began to mount, while his mother withered away day by day, sometimes spending hours in Edward’s room, clutching a miniature portrait to her breast.

The servants moved like ghosts in the gloomy, quiet house, and Vaughn had no strength in him to fight his parents’ plans to turn their home into a mausoleum for their dead son. Instead, he’d obtained a bachelor’s residence on Jermyn Street and stayed there until they died. It had left him with a bittersweet ache for the beauty and the warmth he felt here at Darby House. His desire to secretly win Perdita’s hand was growing, but he now doubted his ability to give her a warm and happy life she deserved. He hadn’t been raised by sensible, loving parents like she had, and he wouldn’t know the first thing about making a life like that for her.

“Now you are frowning,” Perdita teased, mimicking his scowl.

He couldn’t resist a gentle laugh. “I am. Deep thoughts always make me frown.” He buried his dark thoughts and added in a low whisper, “I think we should meet tonight. The library after midnight?”

“Agreed,” she answered back, just as quietly.

They entered the dining room, and there was no more opportunity to speak privately. Vaughn escorted Perdita to her seat at the far end of the table before he walked back to his own. He was seated near Perdita’s mother.

Damnation. He couldn’t see Perdita’s face, the various decorations on the table blocked his view. A large stuffed pheasant’s colorful feathers flared out as though it was ready to take flight. Vaughn could just see the curve of Perdita’s neck through the dip of the back of the bird’s wings.

Dinner wasn’t going to be as enjoyable as he had hoped. He looked toward the elderly gentleman who sat to his left. He had a better view of Perdita.

He nudged the older fellow. “Excuse me. Would you mind trading places with me?”

The old man’s face turned ruddy as his eyes darted quickly to Mrs. Darby and back to him. “Trade places?” he blustered. “Good God, man, the lady of the house is right there beside you. The sanctity of a lady’s table seating is the cornerstone of our empire!” He announced this so loudly it drew surprised gazes from the ladies and gentlemen nearby. Even Perdita was staring at him, worry creasing her brow.

Vaughn rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. Cornerstone of the empire? For God’s sake. There was nothing like public mortification in the middle of a Christmas dinner to shame even a hardened rogue like himself. He was half tempted to find the nearest Christmas pudding and shove his face into it to avoid the stares. The elderly man was still watching him.

“What the devil would make you demand to swap seats, young man?”

Vaughn almost choked. Young man? He hadn’t been called that in years. Hadn’t felt like that in years. He was twenty-seven, not some boy fresh out of school. He cleared his throat.

“I merely hoped to have a better view of a certain young lady.” Damn, why did he feel flushed all of a sudden?

“A lady, you say?” The old man lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. “Empire be damned.” He poked Vaughn. “Out of your chair, boy.”

Vaughn glanced toward Mrs. Darby, seeking her approval.

“I’ll allow it,” Mrs. Darby said. She smiled a knowing little smile before she turned to the guest on her other side to engage him in conversation.

Vaughn hastily exited his chair and switched with the old man. When he sat down, he glanced toward Perdita. She raised one hand to cover her mouth, no doubt hiding a smile. Even from across the vast distance of the dinner table he could see that darling twinkle in her eyes, and it made him feel…giddy. He grinned, feeling like a damned fool, but oddly, he didn’t mind. Vaughn reached for his glass of wine and took a sip. Perdita blushed, and he chuckled. Perfect.

“Nice to see young love,” the old man commented. “Everyone seems to assume that when you’re my age we forget what it’s like to be young. You’d better hold on to her, my boy.” The older man’s tone turned wistful, and he tugged on his cravat.

“Oh, I’m not in love. I barely know her.”

“Balderdash. Love doesn’t require you knowing everything about her. Sometimes love is part of the mystery. Especially for men. Women will always have their secrets, the little twinkles in their eyes, the hidden smiles that make us wonder just what it is they are thinking about. My Arabella is still quite the mystery, and we’ve been married fifty years.” He nodded toward an older woman who sat close to Perdita. Her loveliness hadn’t faded with time, and Vaughn could still see the attraction.

Vaughn was tempted to argue that it wasn’t really possible to love someone you didn’t know, but Mr. Darby stood up with a glass in his hand, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Thank you for joining my family for Christmas. It’s so lovely to have guests during the holidays. It warms my heart to have my house full of people.” His thanks were followed by a murmur of agreement by the guests. “And tonight, I have some wonderful news. I’m delighted to share with you all that my daughter, Perdita, and Lord Darlington are engaged. I would like to propose a toast—to Lord Darlington and my daughter, Perdita.”

The guests echoed his toast and drank to it. Perdita sipped her wine, her head down, but she was red-faced. Vaughn was tempted to do the same. Everyone at the long table stared at them as the news settled in. It was one thing to be invited to Darby House for a party, but to be announced as Perdita’s intended was going to cause ripples in the various social circles. He’d expected that, of course, even counted on it, but watching it occur before his eyes in a roomful of people was both embarrassing and fascinating. He wasn’t sure what he ought to do, so he resorted to his usual behavior and flashed a cool smile at the curious faces turned his way.

“And finally, to remind you all,” Darby said, clearing his throat, “tomorrow night, we shall have the ball.” This second announcement did the considerate job of distracting the ladies, who all murmured in delight at the coming dance. Many of the young men in attendance grinned eagerly, and the dinner began.

Vaughn paid little attention to much else over the next two hours. His focus was on Perdita. He loved to watch her. There was something enchanting about the way her eyes lit up as she talked. She was an animated creature, but there was no falseness about her, no shallow vapidity like far too many ladies her age tended to display. She was both genuine and honest. Her words were always well chosen and truthful.

A gentleman beside her made her laugh, and Vaughn grinned at the sound. A pang of jealousy followed. He wanted to be the man who made her laugh like that.

“Someone’s not happy you won the fair lady,” the old man on his left muttered. His words dragged Vaughn’s attention away from Perdita.

“What do you mean?”

The man nodded down the table. “That fellow at the far end. He looks quite put out. Did you steal his sweetheart, I wonder?”

Of course it was Samuel Milburn who was glowering at him, his black eyes filled with rage, his mouth a thin line. Vaughn had been so focused on Perdita that he’d forgotten the whole reason he was here: to save her from that bastard.

“Actually, I didn’t steal her. I rescued her,” Vaughn responded truthfully.

“Did you, now?” The old man chuckled before he took a sip of his soup.

“I did,” Vaughn affirmed, his focus still on Milburn. That man would bear watching over the next few days. He was the sort of man who would seek revenge if his plans were foiled—which meant his threatened blackmail might yet come into play. He only hoped Mr. Craig was making some progress on that front.

Vaughn spent the remainder of the meal dividing his attention between his dinner companions. The man on his left, Mr. Chatwin, was the one who had graciously switched places with him.

After dinner, the ladies returned to the drawing room while the men proceeded to the billiard room for port and cigars. Vaughn didn’t really wish to play, nor did he wish to smoke and converse with anyone. He was careful to slip out of the room once the others were sufficiently distracted.

A cold voice disrupted his walk down the hall. “I know what you’re doing.” Vaughn froze next to a marble bust of a noble lady and turned to see Milburn closing the door of the billiard room behind him.

He forced himself to relax, even though every muscle inside him was ready for a fight. “What, pray tell, is that?”

“You and that little fool. She thinks she can outsmart me by bringing you here. But I’m no fool. We both know you really don’t want to marry her. So what is she giving you? Sharing her bed wouldn’t be enough. It must be something else. Is she paying you? Whoring out for your services? I know you are desperate enough, but I still can’t believe you’d be such a pathetic man.” Milburn tsked snidely. “How far the Darlington name has fallen.”

Vaughn’s hands curled into fists at his sides, but there was no point in bashing the man’s head, even if it would feel bloody good. He drew in a slow, calming breath.

“You are mistaken. I am going to marry her, and I’m not desperate. It seems to me you are the desperate one. Are you angry she refused you? Maybe you shouldn’t have shoved your last mistress out a window. Or maybe it’s because you attempted to blackmail her. That tends to dampen any romantic notions a lady might have for a man. Unlike you, I don’t hurt women.”

“Oh, but you do.” Milburn countered, his voice quiet but clear in the hall. “We both know what kind of man you are. Does she know what you need? How you find your pleasure? Someone should warn the poor girl.” Milburn’s grin was so arrogant Vaughn actually took a step forward, ready to raise his hand against him.

Milburn opened the billiard room door. A couple of heads turned their way, wondering who was about to enter.

“Careful, Darlington. I wouldn’t want to see you thrown out of the house for brawling. Then no one would be there to comfort Miss Darby. Oh wait, I would. Go ahead, throw a punch.”

With a low growl, Vaughn lowered his fist and forced a smile.

“You’re hardly deserving of such attention. If you were any more beneath my notice, I’d have to check the bottom of my boot heel to find you.” Before he could let Milburn antagonize him further, he went upstairs to his room.

It was going to be a long wait until midnight. He would have to distract himself from thoughts of making Milburn bleed, instead picturing how he would enjoy spending time with Perdita beneath the kissing boughs in the hidden alcove of the library.