was taken aback. “Oh. Well...” I did not know how to respond.

“Now tell me what brings you to this area.”

I was irked by the feeling that this man once again had the upper hand. “I don’t believe I should confide in you.”

He sighed. “I thought we had agreed to be friends.”

“Yes, but that was before I knew you would refuse to tell me your name. I can hardly be friends with someone who has no name.”

He looked as if he found everything I said to be very entertaining. “Very well. As my friend, you may call me Philip.”

“I can’t call you by your Christian name.” Consternation colored my voice.

“Would you feel more comfortable if I were to call you Marianne?”

“You would not.”

“Yes, I would, Marianne.” He had a teasing glint in his eye.

I felt myself blushing. “You are very improper.”

He chuckled. “Not normally. Just tonight.”

I realized that I was still looking into his eyes, which were a darker blue than I had first thought them to be, and that he actually looked more handsome when he was smiling, as he was now. It was a very disconcerting realization, for I could not forget how tragically unbecoming my own appearance was. I broke my gaze away, embarrassed at the thought of what I must look like.

“If you must know,” I said with a show of dignity I did not feel, “I was invited to visit a friend of my mother’s.”

“Why did she invite you to visit?”

His voice sounded casual, but his look betrayed interest. I wondered why he would want to know that. It seemed a harmless question, though.

“My sister was first invited to visit, and Lady Caroline was very gracious to extend the invitation to include me.” Lady Caroline’s letter had arrived just a few days after Cecily’s, confirming the invitation.

After a moment of silence, he asked, “And what happened to your coachman?”

All at once I remembered James, lying wounded upstairs, maybe even dying, and here I had been playing a silly game, laughing myself to stitches, and thinking about this man’s eyes. What was wrong with me? Did I have no sensibility?

“He was shot when we were held up by a highwayman,” I said, trying not to remember the terrifying details of the encounter.

His eyebrows drew together. “A highwayman? On this road? Are you quite sure?”

“If a highwayman wears a stocking mask and demands that you ‘stand and deliver’ and then forcibly takes your necklace, then yes, I am quite sure.”

The horror of the event was catching up with me. I suddenly felt too emotional to speak.

“Did he hurt you?”

The emotion I was trying to suppress clawed at my throat, unleashed by the gentleness in Philip’s voice. Without warning, a tear slipped down my cheek. I swiped it away.

“No. He tried to drag me from the carriage, but my maid shot at him with a pistol. He rode away, but by then he had already shot my coachman.” I put a hand to my forehead. I could remember the feel of the highwayman’s hand around my ankle, the sharp sting as he pulled my mother’s locket from around my neck. “I feel horrid. I was not even thinking about James. He could be dying up there, and it would be all my fault.” A tear slipped out, then two, and I dashed them away.

“It would not be your fault, and I don’t believe your coachman will die from his wound. I saw it myself. It was high on his shoulder and did not hit any organs, and the doctor is very capable.”

I nodded, relieved to hear his words, and tried to stop crying. If my grandmother had witnessed this behavior she would probably disown me. But I felt just as out of control with my tears as I had earlier with my laughter. Philip handed me a clean white handkerchief, which I took without meeting his gaze. This was so unlike me. And so embarrassing.

“Forgive me.” I wiped a stream of tears from my cheek. “I am not normally such a watering pot, I assure you.” He was bound to think I was one of those fragile creatures who fainted at the sight of blood and cried for sympathy.

“I am sure you are not.” He was so very polite that I felt increasingly worse about my first assessment of his character.

When I finally felt myself in control of my emotions again, I turned to him. “Do you think that you could forget that any of this happened?”

“Why do you ask that?” A small smile lurked around his lips.

“I am quite embarrassed by my behavior tonight,” I confessed.

His eyes lit up with amusement. “Which behavior?”

“Yes, there is so much to choose from. I insulted you, fainted, pretended to be a milkmaid, sang a ridiculous song, cried, and on top of it all, I am relatively sure I look like I have been dragging a bloody man around.”

Philip chuckled. “Yes, that is exactly what you have done.” I thought he was laughing at me, but then he turned and leaned over his armrest so that he was looking right into my eyes. “I don’t think I have ever met a lady like you, Miss Marianne Daventry, and I would feel very sorry to forget anything about this evening.”

I suddenly could not breathe. My blush spread to my ears, and I knew, deep in my bones, that I was no match for this man, not with my games or my confidence or my wit. I leaned back, away from those smoldering eyes and smiling lips. I wanted to run from the room and hopefully never see him again.

Before I could carry out my plan, though, he asked, “What are you going to do now?”

The weight of my predicament settled on me suddenly. “I suppose I will need to arrange for someone to care for James, then find someone to drive me to Edenbrooke. Oh, and I should notify Lady Caroline that my arrival will be delayed.” I sighed. “But all I really want to do is to go to sleep and try to forget this day ever happened.”

“Why don’t you let me take care of everything?”

I glanced at him sharply. “I can’t let you do that, sir.”

“Why not?”

“It is too much. I barely know you. I could not impose on you.”

“It’s not too much, and you would not be imposing. How would you go about it on your own? You probably don’t even know where you are, do you?”

I shook my head.

“Let me help,” he said persuasively.

“I can manage on my own,” I insisted. I did not want him to think me weak and helpless. I was my grandmother’s heir, after all, and I was more like her than I cared to admit.

“I have no doubt you would be able to manage, Marianne, considering what I have seen of you tonight. But I would like to be of service to you.”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Isn’t that what a gentleman does? Rescues a damsel in distress?” His tone was light, but his eyes were solemn.

“I am not a damsel in distress,” I said with a laugh.

“But I am trying to prove that I am a gentleman.”

Now I understood his persistence. It came back to the insult I had thrown at him. He should not have taken it so much to heart. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

He looked heavenward with a sigh. “Are you always this stubborn?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Yes, I think I am.”

Philip’s expression wavered between exasperation and amusement. Amusement won with a reluctant laugh. “I relent. You will never say something predictable. But I do agree with your plan. You should get some sleep and worry about all of this in the morning. It will all wait.”

He sounded very reasonable, and it was a relief to think that I could put it off until I was better rested.

“You’re probably right,” I said. “I think I will take your advice.”

“Good.” He smiled at me. “Can you make it up the stairs on your own?”

“Of course.” That reminded me of something. “I fainted on the stairs earlier, didn’t I?”

He nodded.

“And then what happened?”

“I caught you and carried you here.” Amusement lit up his eyes.

“Oh.” I was not sure what to think. I felt embarrassed and strangely pleased at the same time. I looked at him from under my lashes, noting the strain of coat against the muscles in his shoulders and arms. Yes, he certainly looked strong enough to carry me... probably quite easily, I imagined. My face grew warm at the thought. “Well, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he murmured, a smile teasing his mouth again.

I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard that. “I believe I can make it upstairs by myself. I’ll not be needing any more of your services tonight.”

He looked unconvinced. “Stand up then.”

I tried and found I was grafted to the chair with exhaustion.

“Just as I suspected.” He stood and took my hand, pulling on it to help me up.

I sucked in my breath with the sudden sting of his hand on mine and flinched. Philip’s look sharpened with concern, and he quickly turned my palm over. The wounds looked worse in the firelight than they had upstairs. Red scrapes and welts covered most of my palms. They throbbed, and there were a few places where several layers of skin had been scraped off.

“I thought you said he didn’t hurt you.” His voice was harsh. When he looked into my eyes, my heart turned over. He looked angry and rather dangerous, and all the more handsome for it.

“He didn’t. It was the reins, mostly. The horses were spooked, and I’m not accustomed to driving four of them. And then I fell when I was trying to hurry and James was so heavy...” I stopped as I noticed the look of amazement on Philip’s face.

“You lifted your coachman?”

“Well, my maid helped.”

He looked at me as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “I saw him. He is more than twice your size. And I also saw your maid. I wouldn’t think it possible.”

I shrugged. “It had to be done. I couldn’t leave him there.”

He held my gaze for a long moment. I realized that the fire was very warm, and that I was standing very close to a very handsome gentleman who held my hand in his. Philip looked down.

“You brave girl,” he murmured, running a light finger along my palm. It was so soft a touch that it did not hurt at all. But it did send a wave of feeling through my hand, up my arm, all the way to my heart. I had never experienced such a sensation before, and I found it completely unnerving.

I pulled my hand out of his grip and tried to comprehend what had just happened. But my exhaustion was beginning to feel like a fog in my head, and I could make no sense of my reaction to him. Perhaps I was becoming feverish. Even delirious.

“You must be exhausted,” Philip said, as if he could read my mind. “Come.” He took my elbow and steered me toward the open door.

I wanted to insist that I could walk up the stairs just fine on my own, but I was no longer certain that I could. Not tonight. Philip only let go of me when we reached the landing.

He bowed. “Good night, Marianne.” I smiled at the sound of my name on his lips. It had somehow become not shocking at all.

“Good night,” I said. “And thank you. For everything.”

I felt like there was something else I should say to him, but I couldn’t think what it was. All I could think about was falling into bed. I walked to the door of the bedchamber where Betsy was still snoring.

With my hand on the door handle, I heard Philip quietly say, “Lock your door before you go to bed.”

A chill of alarm spread through me, reminding me that I had been in very real danger not so long ago. It sharpened my thoughts, and I realized what I should say. I turned around to ask Philip if I would ever see him again.

But he was already gone.