Perdita waited for her lady’s maid to lay out her nightgown.

“Beth, would you be upset if I called you after midnight to undress me?”

Beth, a sweet girl with reddish-brown hair, glanced at her in surprise.

“Miss?” Beth never asked direct questions, but Perdita knew this was her maid’s way of inquiring.

“You remember what I told you about Milburn?” Perdita had confessed her fears a few weeks before.

“I do.” Beth took one of Perdita’s dresses and smoothed out the wrinkles before carrying it to the tall armoire.

“Well, I am to have a secret rendezvous with Lord Darlington tonight.”

“Miss…” Beth’s tone was full of reprimand. Her maid could say so much with one word.

“I know you don’t approve, but he is the only chance I see of escaping Milburn’s interest. We’re going to arrange for him to see us somehow. I hope that will dissuade him.”

Beth gave a huff of disagreement.

Perdita placed her hands on her hips. “What is it?”

“Miss, there’s no reason a man would want a secret rendezvous with you. Not unless he has a specific desire in mind.”

“Beth, he doesn’t want me, not in that way. Men like Darlington are excellent at playing the role of seducer, but that’s all it is. Playacting. I paid my price to him by arranging a meeting with Lord Lennox after the New Year. That is all Darlington truly wants.”

Her maid gave another disgruntled sound. “You are one of the sweetest and loveliest ladies I know, miss. He’d either be blind or a fool not to want you, and his eyesight seems to be just fine. I’m only asking you to take care. That’s all.”

“I promise.” Perdita knew Vaughn had enjoyed their time in the library and the woods, but she knew men like him. He could have his pick of ladies who knew what to do to please a man, and she could not possibly be interesting enough for him. Vaughn would have no designs upon her, not in the way her maid feared. She was a virgin, and he’d made it abundantly clear upon their first meeting that he didn’t seduce “innocents,” as he’d called them, yet he had said he might make an exception for her.

“I shall wait up for you,” Beth said, clearly unconvinced.

“Go on to bed. If I need you, I’ll come and wake you.”

Her maid frowned. “You shouldn’t have to come fetch me in the servants’ quarters, miss.”

“Stop worrying.” Perdita shoved her out the door. “Go on to bed now.”

When her servant was gone, she waited in her room, trying to pass the time until the appointed hour. She tried to read a book, but she couldn’t focus. Finally, she left for the library ten minutes before midnight. She was nervous and excited, but it was only because she was engaging in her second midnight rendezvous, not because she was excited to see Vaughn again.

When she reached the library, she ducked inside and began to pace, her slippers wearing paths in the carpet by the fire. At the sound of the door opening she turned, an eager smile upon her lips which quickly faded when she saw who it was.

“Finally, we have a moment alone,” said Samuel Milburn.

Perdita was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. All she could think was that he’d once thrown a woman out a window and that she could meet the same dreadful end.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, like a cat watching a mouse frozen with fear. Then he walked toward her. Perdita was torn between the desire to run and to hold her ground. This was her house, by God. Who was he to menace her in it? And by the dark look in his eyes she sensed running would only make things worse—and things were already very bad indeed.

Her heart pounded inside her chest, but she tried to remain outwardly calm.

“Darlington will be here in a few minutes. It would be wise of you to leave.” She took two slow, careful steps to place a tall armchair between herself and Milburn. The crackling fire and the ticking of the old clock above the marble mantle were strangely loud in the tense silence of the room.

Milburn wore no coat, and made a show of rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. It was intimidating, not that Perdita could explain why. If Vaughn had done the same action, she would not have been afraid but rather excited.

“When I am done with you, he won’t care. He certainly won’t want you any longer.” It was her only warning. Milburn lunged for her, and Perdita, too terrified to scream, simply acted. She shoved the chair at him. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked and it toppled over, striking him in the knees. He crumpled onto it with a violent shout.

Perdita raised her skirts and ran for the door. But something snatched her ankle, and she fell. When she tried to scramble to her feet, she was pulled back to the ground. Pain shot up her right leg. She kicked out instinctively, again and again.

“Stop that, you little bit—” The hoarse curse turned into a grunt of pain as her foot connected with Milburn’s face.

She had only a few precious seconds of freedom, but her palms, slick with sweat, found no purchase on the wooden floor.

“Help!” she screamed, but a heavy weight came down on top of her, crushing her into the floor. Air rushed out of her lungs, and a hand dug into her hair, lifted her head up, then shoved it hard on the ground. Her forehead struck the wood floor, dazing her.

“Little bitch. How dare you,” Milburn growled, his body pinning hers down. His other hand slid toward her skirts, dragging them up.

Perdita’s head throbbed in pain, and she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t move.

The library door was only ten feet away, but it might as well have been ten miles. Her eyes blurred with tears as the horror of what was happening sank in. She dug her nails into the wood, the scraping sound an undertone beneath Milburn’s growl as he jerked her skirts higher and panted.

The creak of the library door opening did not stop him, if he had noticed it at all, but Perdita raised her head at the sound, praying someone, anyone would see.

“Help—” She tried to shout again, but her lungs were crushed and her vision was tunneling. She couldn’t breathe.

There was a distant roar, as though coming deep from a well beneath layers of water, far away. The crushing pressure on her chest vanished, and her ears filled with the harsh, violent sounds of men shouting and furniture crashing.

She crawled toward a bookcase, using the wood to support her as she took shelter, guarding her head as she gasped for breath, her eyes closed. When the sounds stopped and she opened her eyes, she saw Vaughn had hold of Milburn’s shirt with one hand and was shaking the unconscious ruddy-faced bastard. When he seemed satisfied the other man was out cold, he dropped him onto the floor, then turned to her. His eyes were hard as diamonds, sharp and burning. His knuckles were covered in blood.

Perdita’s lips quivered, and a sob escaped her. His gaze softened, and he rushed over to her, lifting her into his arms.

“My darling, my darling.” He buried his face in her hair as he carried her out of the room. He walked hastily down the corridor and back up the stairs. “Which way is your room?” he asked.

“The last one on the left.” She tucked her face against his throat, her body still shaking. He carried her to her bedchamber and set her down on her bed, then touched her face, lifting it so he could see her eyes. The anger had returned.

“There is something I must attend to. I will fetch your maid at once.”

“No!” she said with a gasp. “I mean, please, do not wake her. She would only worry and ask questions that I’m not ready to answer.”

“Are you sure?” Vaughn hesitated at the door. “Will you be all right to be left alone for a few minutes?”

She nodded. She didn’t want Beth witnessing her shame and fear. She only wanted Vaughn. He made her feel safe.

“Good. I will return shortly.” He placed a kiss upon her brow and left.

Perdita sat there on the edge of the bed and looked down. She was missing one slipper, her gown had been ripped in several places, and her forehead throbbed. She extended her ankle and whimpered at the sharp twist of pain she felt. A minute later, the door opened and her father came in, Vaughn behind him.

“Perdy?” Her father rushed to her side, hugging her. After he was certain she was in no immediate danger, he nodded at Vaughn. “Come. We’ll take care of this right now.”

She didn’t know what they were talking about and was too distraught to ask.

They both left her alone again. When they returned, her mother was with them, and both Vaughn’s and her father’s boots were covered in fresh snow.

“Papa…” Perdita whispered.

“You’re safe now,” her father growled. Perdita exhaled, relief sweeping through her, but it didn’t erase her humiliation or the pain she was in. Her mother came to her, hugging her fiercely, a stark look of fury and fear in her eyes that filled Perdita with guilt.

But then she remembered Milburn’s threats. By tossing him out of the house, Vaughn and her father had given Milburn the excuse he needed to carry out his threats. Her father would soon be exposed for a crime Perdita was certain he was not guilty of. She covered her stomach with her hand as she endured a wave of nausea.

“Perdy, dear, are you all right?” her mother demanded. Then she spun on Vaughn. “What happened to her? What did you do?”

“Mama, please!” Perdita gasped. “He saved me from Milburn.”

“What? Milburn? But that’s not possible.”

“I’m afraid it is,” her father said. “Darlington and I just threw the bastard out into the snow.”

“That is all?” Her mother’s voice rose. “Reginald, you need to go out and find that man and shoot him. Do you understand me?”

“As much as I adore your thirst for vengeance, my dear, we cannot shoot a man in the back. Not even the local magistrate would allow that.”

“Then shoot him in the front! The local magistrate be damned!” her mother snarled like a protective wolf.

“Darby, she needs a doctor. Can you send a lad to ride to the village? I’d go, but I will not leave her here alone.” Vaughn approached the bed and gingerly cupped her cheek, trying to offer her a reassuring smile, but he faltered.

“Perdita…” For some reason that tenderness, his tenderness broke her last bit of strength that had kept up her composure. She burst into tears, slid away from her mother, and reached for him. He curled his arms around her body, delicately at first, before his hold tightened. The warmth of his chest and his dark masculine scent mixed with a hint of winter chill that clung to his clothes soothed her.

She knew her parents were speaking, but she didn’t want to face them. Not yet. “Vaughn, make them go to bed, please. I don’t want them to stay up and worry. I need to be alone.”

He cleared his throat. “I understand, sweetheart.” He let go of her and walked over to where her anxious parents stood. Perdita turned away and lay upon her bed, her face buried in the blankets.

“Leave her alone? With you? Absolutely not!” Perdita’s mother hissed and came over to her by the bed so that Perdita couldn’t avoid her gaze.

“Mama, I wish to be left alone. But I would feel safer if Lord Darlington remained with me.”

“But…” Her mother struggled for words. “We have guests. It isn’t…”

Perdita sat up and grasped her mother’s hands. “I don’t care one whit about scandal right now. He saved me from a man who deserves far worse from them. Let them wag their tongues about Milburn’s actions, not Vaughn’s.”

Her mother’s lip quivered, and she stared at Perdita for a long moment before she nodded. “Very well. You are engaged, after all…” Then she turned to Vaughn. “If you do anything…” Fury flashed in her mother’s eyes.

“I won’t.” Vaughn’s tone was completely serious. Perdita lay back down and closed her eyes, wishing for the humiliation and pain of this moment to end.

She heard the door close. The candles by the bed were snuffed out except for one, which remained close to her side of the bed.

“They are gone. If you decide at any moment that you wish them to return, I will fetch them at once. They will bring the doctor when he arrives, and you will see him for your injuries. I insist upon that.” Vaughn’s voice was firmer now. The natural command in his tone was a comfort. But she was afraid of his tenderness, afraid it came from a place of pity and not affection.

The tears coating her cheeks dried and made her skin tingle. Affection? She wanted Vaughn’s affection? When had that become a concern?

“Perdita?” She flinched when he touched her shoulder. He moved his hand, and she immediately missed him.

She sniffed. “Vaughn, please don’t pull away. I’m still rather jumpy after…” She couldn’t face the awful horror of what almost happened. He stood beside the bed, his eyes glowing and his hair falling over them. His hands were still bloodied, and she realized his skin was broken in a few places.

She sat up and reached for his hands, catching them before he could pull them away. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s only a scratch or two.” He pulled his hands away from hers and walked over to the washbasin, dipping his hands into the water.

“Damn, it’s cold,” he muttered, and wiped his hands on the spare cloth beside the basin. When he turned to face her again, his grim expression made her stomach clench in anxious knots.

“What happened tonight with Milburn…” He paused, and she knew with dreadful certainty what he was going to say. So she decided to beat him to it.

“I understand. Milburn cannot possibly expect to take my hand now. You’ve done more than I asked. You are free to return to London. I will have my father announce the breaking of the engagement tomorrow.”

He quirked one brow. “That is not what I was going to say.” He took a step toward her, then halted as if rethinking his closeness.

“You weren’t?” A silly girl’s hope flooded through her. The bargain was over, and he had no reason to stay, even though she wanted him to.

“I was going to say that given everything that has happened, I think it’s best if we see this through to its end.” He looked down at his boots, his voice strangely quiet. “I brought a special license with me.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, and her head was aching something fierce. “Vaughn, please, say what you mean.” She touched her forehead. The spot where she’d hit the floor was still tender.

“We ought to marry. As soon as possible. Perhaps Christmas Day? That would give you tomorrow, Christmas Eve, to plan a small ceremony at the local church.”

Perdita was speechless. Marriage? Was he serious? She had only just admitted to herself that she liked him.

“I know this is sudden and unexpected, but I believe it is a good solution. Milburn won’t stop, until you’re properly protected as the wife of a peer. Only then will you be safe. I fear, however, that it won’t stop him from hurting your father with his supposed evidence, but we shall weather the scandal together. I am no stranger to those.” There it was, her safety, his only reason for proposing a hasty marriage. Not because of love or even infatuation, but a simple desire to protect her.

Some ladies would find that chivalrous act enough reason to say yes, but not her. Whenever she had contemplated marriage, it had always been with one thought in mind—to marry for love. A great, all-consuming, passionate love whose flame would challenge even the stars.

“Shall I tell your parents you agree?” he asked.

The silence in the room grew until she felt once again she couldn’t breathe.

“No.”

He stared at her, his gaze inscrutable, before he began to chuckle wryly.

“You find it amusing that I’ve rejected you?” She sniffled, tears burning her eyes. She would not cry—she would not.

“I think it is, yes. I suppose it’s because I mistakenly believed that you bore some tendre for me. You don’t, do you?”

“I…” She did care about him, but that wasn’t why she’d refused him. It was because he didn’t care about her, not in the way she wanted. Her hesitation lit his eyes with a soft fire that left her speechless.

“So, you do care. How curious. What, pray tell, is holding you back then?” He eased down on the bed beside her. He looked so inviting, so charming at that moment, with his hair ruffled and his coat gone. She wanted nothing more than to crawl onto his lap and cover his face with kisses and forget the world outside the room. But she couldn’t, he didn’t care about her.

“Perdita, we can be honest with each other, can’t we?” he asked, cupping her chin gently and turning her face toward his. A tear trailed down her cheek. He caught the bit of moisture delicately with his finger, the way one would catch a dewdrop from a flower’s petal.

“You don’t…you don’t love me. And I understand. This was an arrangement meant to solve both our problems. But you go too far. I could never marry a man unless he loved me. Loved me madly. Loved me to distraction. I deserve a great love. Even you deserve that. We cannot marry simply to afford me protection from Milburn. It is not reason enough.”

Vaughn brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek, his eyes a pair of dark sapphires.

“I do not know if I’m capable of love, but I care for you more than I have for any other woman. And that is no idle boast. When I’m with you, things seem sharper, clearer.” He seemed to struggle with his words. “It was as though I was in a listless, hazy dream. When I first kissed you in London, I woke up, clear as a bell ringing in my ears. Everything seems more real, more true when I’m with you.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, holding her face in his hands.

“I don’t know how to love, if I am honest. But I don’t want to stop this. It was always a charade for you, but it never was for me. I always wished to marry you.”

She stared at him, pulling her face away from his, but only to see his expression more clearly. “What?”

“Yes. The night you came to my townhouse, I decided then that I wished to marry you.”

“But…” How could he have made that decision then? It didn’t seem possible.

“Take this chance with me,” Vaughn said. “Say you will marry me. We need only the vicar at the church and a gown for you. I even have my wedding clothes ready. They’re a tad old, I’m afraid, as I couldn’t afford a new set.” His face reddened at the confession.

Perdita’s heart raced wildly again. Could she do this? Marry him on a leap of faith that he might one day love her?

“Answer one question.”

“Ask it.” He continued to stroke her cheek, the gesture sweet and soothing. How unlike the cold rake she’d believed him to be. Perhaps he could surprise her one day with love. He made her want to believe anything was possible.

She watched him carefully. “Why do you care for me? What makes me different from any other young heiress you could marry to satisfy your debts?”

Vaughn didn’t pull away, but he didn’t respond immediately, either. She searched his eyes for any hint of deception but saw only a flicker of hope. “I have had plenty of chances to marry others. Even a reputation such as mine does not scare away the most determined mothers with marriageable daughters or those looking for a tie to a title. Accepting your offer to participate in a false engagement, however, was never about your fortune. If you recall, my terms were to be introduced to Lennox in order to make my own fortune.”

Perdita nodded. She couldn’t forget or ignore that truth.

“That would have been enough for me. But I’ve been intrigued by you since I met you at the garden party in September. You had this cleverness about you, and when I learned that you write astronomy articles, well…”

“You know about that?” Her heart leapt into her throat.

“Of course, I do. The penmanship on the draft you showed me is very feminine, but I suspect you would alter that when you felt it was ready to present. I adore that you write, that you think, that you defy the role society has set for you. Do you have any idea how refreshing that is in a woman? I quite love that about you.”

“Would you demand I stop if we married?” she asked quietly, hope and fear warring inside her.

“Stop? Heavens no. I’d encourage it. I’ve never wanted a normal life, let alone a normal wife. I want a woman who will not shy from trouble, who defies convention, who loves it when I tell her to be good in bed and trusts me to teach her about passion. You’ve always been the answer for me, Perdita. Don’t you see? I could marry no one else but you.”

He smiled then, that boyish smile she’d seen in the woods, the one that made her chest tighten and her head feel faint.

“You promise our marriage would be one that would not trap us both? I cannot agree to being trapped in a gilded cage.”

“Nor could I. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, its that marrying you would be thrilling.” He dropped his gaze to her lips, still smiling. “What’s it to be?” he asked. “Give this rogue a proper chance? I swear I shall make an excellent husband once I’m reformed, and I quite welcome the challenge.”

Perdita sniffed and smiled shyly. “This may be madness, but perhaps for once I should embrace it. I accept.” She leaned in the same moment he did, and they kissed. It was a gentle kiss that burned slow and hot, despite the tender brush of lips and the tentative touch of hands upon skin.

When they finally parted, Vaughn carefully touched her forehead with his long, elegant fingers, scowling.

“I wanted to kill that man for what he did to you. I wanted to wring his bloody neck. I was so afraid…”

“I was too, but when I saw you come in the door, I knew you would save me.” She crawled into his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“I never want you to feel that you need to be saved. But I vow to protect you, to always be there for you, sweetheart.” His gently spoken promise made her heart flutter wildly. For the Devil of London to utter such words, it had to be a spell born of magic, the magic of love she hoped for…someday.

At that moment the doctor knocked upon the door. Vaughn reluctantly set her down. She felt his hesitation to let her go. It made her feel warm all over.

“Come in,” she called.

Dr. Williams was a middle-aged man with a black bag, and his coat was dusted with snow. Perdita’s parents were behind him, both looking anxious.

“Could everyone wait outside, please?” the doctor asked. “You too, lad.”

Vaughn didn’t leave the bed until she nodded at him. He joined her parents outside, and the doctor set his bag down on the table by the bed.

“There now. Let’s take a look at your head first, Miss Darby.”