"I suppose I shall have to thank my father for that one day." Sebastian sighed. "Regardless, please continue."

"Lady Merrick's popularity increased tremendously during her second Season, when she caught the eye of Lord Haversham."

"The devil you say!" Sebastian cried, sitting bolt upright in his seat. Back in their Oxford days, Haversham had been a friend of his. But when Sebastian had turned into a completely worthless, dissolute, immoral scoundrel, Haversham had quickly put distance between them.

Wilson frowned. "Yes, Lord Haversham courted Lady Merrick doggedly for the entire Season. There was heavy speculation that he would be offering for her."

"Hell's teeth." Compared to the angelic Haversham, he was Mephistopheles.

"But in the end, Viscount Haversham did not pay his addresses. He cast her off quite unexpectedly in favor of Lady Chelsea Markham, the Earl of Radcliff's youngest daughter. She, in turn, cast him off in favor of Lord St. Martin." Wilson shook his head sadly. "The scandal that accompanied the very public jilting ruined Lady Merrick. She left London soon after and did not return until she came home as your bride."

He understood now why she had been hiding out in the West Indies and why her father had married her by proxy. Olivia had been running, too.

Sebastian was slightly put out to think that perhaps he hadn't been her first choice in husbands, but he quickly passed over the disgruntlement. She was his now; her past meant nothing.

Rising, he headed toward the front door.

"My lord! The clippings!"

"Burn them. I have what I need. Good work, Wilson. I'll be in touch. Make appointments to meet with the family stewards over the next few weeks."

Sebastian leapt into his waiting carriage and headed for home.


Olivia held a hand to her side and released a deep breath. The baby was beginning to move, tiny flutters of life that awed and amazed her.

"Ready, love?" Sebastian asked from the doorway.

She dropped her hand quickly. "Is it time already?" She swept past him, collecting her hat and gloves from the butler.

"Yes." Clutching her elbow, he studied her with a frown. "Are you unwell? You looked peaked."

"I'm fine. A bit tired is all."

He flushed, and she hid a smile. It wasn't fair he looked so rested when she was exhausted.

His touch was gentle and solicitous as he assisted her into the waiting carriage. Tucked against his side, Olivia wished the ride to Pall Mall were longer. If only she could convince him to stay with her forever. Against better reason, she hoped that he would.

As if he read her thoughts, Sebastian hugged her close and said, "I won't leave you again. I'll tell you that every minute of every day until you believe me."

"You may have to do that very thing," she replied, snuggling closer.

"Then I shall, my love. I shall."

And with Sebastian's heartfelt promise, she felt renewed hope. She rested her head against his chest and smiled. "I'm horribly smitten with you."

"Smitten." He grunted. "You're mad for me." He squeezed her and lowered his voice. "As I am for you."

Once they reached the busy thoroughfare, they left the carriage and began to stroll, stopping to window-shop as they made their way to the modiste.

"Lord and Lady Merrick."

They both turned. Olivia smiled at the approaching couple. The man, tall and superbly fit, boasted eyes of the most startling color. Somewhere between purple and deep blue, they were devastating. The woman on his arm, slender and graceful, offered a luminous smile.

"Remington," Sebastian greeted, offering his hand. "How are you, old chap?"

Remington shook it heartily and grinned. "I thought that was you, Merrick, although without the presence of Lady Merrick to confirm it, I would not have said anything. You look positively piratical. You need only an earring to complete the picture." He brought his companion forward. "Julienne, this is the prodigal Lord Merrick. Merrick, allow me to present my wife, Lady Julienne."

Lady Julienne smiled and offered her hand, shooting an amused glance at Olivia. "So there is indeed a Lord Merrick."

Olivia choked back a laugh.

Sebastian didn't bother-he laughed outright. "Olivia, love. Have you made the acquaintance of Lucien Remington and his lovely wife?"

She nodded. "I have."

"I've a favor to ask, my lord," Remington said. "I need some new horseflesh and was hoping I could convince you to join me at Tattersall's tomorrow."

"Certainly. Is there something in particular you are hoping to find?"

With a quick tilt of her head, Lady Julienne motioned her over. Olivia went gladly, leaving the men to their discussion. Julienne Remington was one of the rare, truly genuine people she'd met since returning to London. They shared a small affinity, both having once been ostracized by Society. Julienne, an earl's daughter, had married the notorious Lucien Remington, the bastard son of a duke. It had caused a scandal of drastic proportions, or so Olivia had been told. But from the looks of it, Julienne had made a wise decision. Remington was obviously completely besotted with his beautiful wife.

"I can see why you've kept him hidden," Julienne said with a mischievous smile as they strolled away. "Merrick quite overwhelms a girl, doesn't he?"

Olivia laughed. "Yes, he certainly does."

Julienne stopped before a milliner's and peered inside. "Look at that! Isn't it lovely?"

Looking at the feathered hat, Olivia nodded. "It is quite fetching."

"I must have it." Julienne moved toward the entrance of the shop just as a pastry cart passed. Enticed by the delectable scent of peach tarts, Olivia was suddenly starving. Her stomach growled. Loudly.

Julienne laughed. "Poor dear. Pregnancy will do that to you."

Olivia's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"I've birthed two sons, Lady Merrick. I recognize the signs." She waved her hand toward the vendor. "Go fetch your pastry, and I'll purchase my hat. We'll meet here when we're done."

"A wonderful idea," Olivia said with a grin. She went to the pastry cart and paid for her tart, her mouth watering in anticipation.

"Lovely day, isn't it, Lady Merrick?"

Recognizing the voice, she sighed inwardly before turning. "Good afternoon, Monsieur Robidoux."

As the vendor moved away, the Frenchman bowed to her and gestured toward a nearby bench. She looked past him to find Sebastian still deep in conversation with Lucien Remington. Reluctantly, she moved toward the seat.

And then she felt the barrel of a pistol pressed to her spine. She stilled, her heart hammering against her ribs. "What in blazes are you doing?"

"Go quietly, petite, and you will not be harmed. Scream, and I will shoot you down." The tone of his voice drove the point home. He was serious.

What was happening? She'd done nothing to rile this man, had in fact gone out of her way to be polite. No cause was given for him to accost her, and certainly not with a weapon. She looked wild-eyed toward Sebastian, but he'd altered direction and now faced away.

Her gloves grew damp with the sweat of her palms. The baby fluttered, frightening her further. In any other circumstance, she would scream and fight for her life. But she had her child to consider now, and she would do nothing to endanger the precious life.

"Go!" he ordered, bruising her back with a sharp shove of the gun.

She stumbled forward. "There are many people around, monsieur. Someone will see."

"I care not. After today I can leave this dreary country and never return."

"If something happens to me," she warned, "Lord Merrick will hunt you down."

He snorted dismissively. "Phoenix will be dead."


"Lord Merrick!"

Sebastian turned toward the panicked voice, startled to see Lady Julienne running toward him, skirts held in one hand and a hatbox in the other.

"Yes? What is it?" He looked past her. "Where is Lady Merrick?"

"I saw her walking away with that odd Frenchman." She turned to her husband, snapping her gloved fingers. "Oh, what is that man's name? The blond Frenchie with the greasy voice?"

Sebastian tensed, his chest tightening. "Robidoux?"

"Yes, that's it!" she cried. "Dominique Robidoux."

He stilled. "You mean Pierre. Pierre Robidoux."

"No, my lord," Remington corrected with a frown. "Julienne is correct. The man's name is Dominique."

Sebastian's gaze swept across the crowded thoroughfare. If what the Remingtons said was true, he'd eliminated the lesser threat and allowed the greater one to get close to his heart. "Which way did they go?"

Julienne pointed down the street. "That way, and just a moment ago."

Sebastian ran, heedless of the gawking pedestrians and the sight he made. He cared nothing for anyone. He never had. The only person who mattered was Olivia.

Blood roaring in his ears, he almost missed her cry. He stopped abruptly and veered down an alley, melting with relief to find Olivia and Robidoux waiting at the end. The minute he saw the Frenchman's face, he knew he'd made a fatal mistake. He'd killed Pierre, not Dominique. His hand lowered to his thigh, vainly reaching for the blade that wasn't there.

"Release her," he ordered, stepping closer. "I'm the one you want."

Robidoux laughed mirthlessly. "Imagine my surprise to discover the lady Pierre wanted was your wife."

Sebastian's hands clenched into fists, his heart racing in near-mindless panic. Olivia stood stoically, but her dark eyes betrayed her fear. "I'll pay whatever you desire if you allow her to go unharmed."

"I want my brother back. Can you give me that?"

Sebastian gritted his teeth and took another step closer. "You know I cannot."