Olympia smiled warmly. "You have been extremely helpful, sir, and I am most grateful to you, but I cannot impose upon you any longer."

Pettigrew frowned. "Now see here, Miss Wingfield, I do not consider it an imposition to assist you in disposing of those shipments. Indeed, I feel it is my duty to aid you. I would be remiss in my obligations as a friend and neighbor were I to allow you to fall into the hands of the sort of unscrupulous scoundrels who would not hesitate to take advantage of an innocent such as yourself."

"You need not fear for Miss Wingfield," Jared said very quietly from the doorway. "She is in good hands."

"What the devil?" Pettigrew turned swiftly to face the door. He stared at Jared. "Who are you, sir? What are you talking about?"

"I'm Chillhurst."

Olympia sensed a sudden tension in the air between the two men. She hastened to diffuse it by making introductions. "Mr. Chillhurst is my nephews' new tutor. He has only been with us for a few days but already he has done wonders. The boys have been studying geography all morning and I'll wager they now know more about the West Indies than any other boy in Upper Tudway. Mr. Chillhurst, allow me to present Squire Pettigrew."

Jared closed the door behind himself and walked to the desk. "Mrs. Bird told me that he had arrived."

Pettigrew's gaze was fixed on the black velvet patch that covered Jared's eye. Then he scowled at Jared's bare throat and the open collar of his shirt. "Damme, man, you don't look like any tutor I ever saw. What is going on here?"

Olympia was irritated. "Mr. Chillhurst most certainly is a tutor. A very excellent one. Uncle Artemis sent him to me."

"Wingfield sent him?" Pettigrew shot her an annoyed look. "Are you quite certain?"

"Yes, of course, I'm certain." Olympia strove for patience. "And as it happens, Mr. Chillhurst is skilled in financial matters. He has offered to act as my man of affairs. That is why I shall no longer be requiring your assistance in disposing of my uncle's shipment, sir."

"Your man of affairs." Pettigrew was dumbfounded. "Now see here, you don't need a man of affairs. You've got me to look after your finances and such."

Jared sat down. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. "You heard Miss Wingfield, Pettigrew. She will no longer be requiring your services."

Pettigrew shot him a scathing glance and turned back to Olympia. "Miss Wingfield, I have warned you often of the dangers of dealing with persons whose backgrounds you know nothing about."

"Mr. Chillhurst is a perfectly respectable person," Olympia said firmly. "My uncle would not have employed him to work in this household if he were not a man of excellent character."

Pettigrew gave Jared a disparaging look. "Have you reviewed his references, Miss Wingfield?"

"My uncle took care of that sort of thing," Olympia said.

Jared smiled coldly at Pettigrew. "I assure you, sir, there is no cause for concern. I shall see to it that Miss Wingfield realizes a fair profit off the goods her uncle sent to her."

"And who's to say what that fair profit is?" Pettigrew retorted. "Miss Wingfield will have no way of knowing if you take advantage of her, will she? She will have to depend upon your word in the matter."

"Just as she has been forced to rely upon your word in the past," Jared said softly.

Pettigrew drew himself up. "Are you implying anything, sir? Because if so, let me inform you that I will not tolerate it."

"Not at all." Jared tapped his fingertips together in a slow, silent drumroll. "Miss Wingfield tells me that she realized nearly two hundred pounds off the last shipment."

"That is quite correct," Pettigrew said stiffly. "And she was extremely lucky to get that much out of it. Why, if it had not been for my contacts in London, she would probably have received no more than a mere hundred or hundred and fifty pounds."

Jared inclined his head. "It will be interesting to see if I can do as well on her behalf as you have done, will it not? Perhaps I shall even be able to improve upon your efforts."

"I say," Pettigrew sputtered indignantly. "I don't care for your attitude, sir."

"Your opinion of me is neither here nor there, is it?" Jared observed mildly. "But I assure you that I will pay close attention to Miss Wingfield's financial affairs. After all, she needs the money, does she not? A single woman burdened with the responsibility of three young boys can certainly use all the income she can get."

Pettigrew's heavy face turned an unpleasant shade of red. "Now see here, sir, I cannot allow you to take possession of Miss Wingfield's goods without so much as a by-your-leave. You might very well up and disappear with them for all we know."

"The goods have already disappeared, so to speak," Olympia said. "Mr. Chillhurst had them sent off to London this very morning."

Pettigrew's eyes widened in astonished fury. "Miss Wingfield, surely you have not done anything so rash as to allow this man to whisk your goods out of Upper Tudway."

Jared continued to tap his fingertips together. "They are safe enough, Pettigrew. They were dispatched under guard. A trusted acquaintance of mine will receive them when they reach London and see to their disposal."

"Good God, man." Pettigrew rounded on him. "What have you done? This is outright thievery. I shall inform the magistrate at once."

Olympia jumped to her feet. "That is quite enough. Mr. Pettigrew, I am satisfied that Mr. Chillhurst has only my best interests at heart. I really do not wish to be rude, sir, but I must insist that you cease prattling on in such an insulting fashion. Mr. Chillhurst might take offense."

"Yes." Jared drummed his fingertips together and looked as if he were contemplating the possibility. "I might."

Pettigrew's mouth worked for a moment but no words came out. Then he heaved himself up out of the chair and glowered at Olympia. "So be it, Miss Wingfield. If you choose to put your trust in a stranger rather than in a neighbor you have known for years, that is your affair. But I expect that you will regret this reckless piece of work. Your new tutor looks altogether too much like a bloody pirate to me and that's a fact."

Olympia was outraged. Jared was, after all, in her employ. It was up to her to defend him. "Really, Mr. Pettigrew, you go too far. I cannot allow you to speak in such a fashion to anyone on my staff. Good day to you, sir."

"Good day, Miss Wingfield." Pettigrew stalked to the door. "I only hope you have not lost a packet by trusting this… this person."

Olympia watched the door until it closed behind Pettigrew. Then she risked a quick, awkward glance at Jared. She was relieved to see that he had stopped tapping his fingers together. She suspected that the mannerism did not bode well.

"I apologize for that unfortunate little scene," Olympia said. "Pettigrew means well, but I believe he was somewhat insulted by the fact that I have turned my uncle's shipment over to you to handle."

"He called me a pirate."

Olympia cleared her throat delicately. "Yes, but please do not take offense. He is not entirely to blame for making such a remark. Indeed, Mrs. Bird commented upon the resemblance earlier. There is something about you, sir, that does tend to put one in mind of a pirate."

Jared's mouth curved. "I am glad that you are able to look beneath the surface, Miss Wingfield."

"Aunt Sophy and Aunt Ida taught me not to judge by appearances."

An enigmatic expression lit Jared's gaze. "I hope you will not be disappointed by the man you discover beneath the pirate's face."

"Oh, no," Olympia whispered. "I could not possibly be disappointed, sir."

The following evening Olympia sat at her desk and contemplated Jared's hair. The heavy, midnight black stuff was brushed back behind his ears and reached his collar. There was no question but that the style was unfashionable and that it contributed to Jared's rather savage appearance. But Olympia did not care. All she wanted to do was run her fingers through it.

Never in her life had she wanted to run her fingers through a man's hair.

Jared was sitting in an armchair in front of the fire, his booted feet stretched out in front of him. He was reading a book that he had selected from a nearby shelf.

The glow from the hearth etched his already stern features into even harsher lines. He had discarded his coat after dinner. Olympia had grown accustomed to the lack of a cravat but she found it almost overwhelming to be in the same room with Jared when he was in his shirtsleeves.

The disturbing sense of intimacy made her feel lightheaded. Whispering shivers of awareness coursed through her. She could not help but wonder if Jared was feeling anything at all other than tired after a long day.

It was nearly midnight but he still showed no signs of taking his leave. Mrs. Bird had retreated to her room after dinner. Ethan, Hugh, and Robert had gone to bed hours ago. Minotaur had been banished to the kitchen.

Olympia was alone with Jared and she was consumed with a strange, unfamiliar restlessness. The feelings had been increasing in intensity every night since Jared's arrival. As far as she could tell, he was not uncomfortable at all with these intimate evenings together in the library.

Olympia had a sudden urge to talk to him. She hesitated and then closed the Lightbourne diary with a loud snap.

Jared looked up from his book and smiled quizzically. "Making progress, Miss Wingfield?"

"I believe so," Olympia said. "Most of the entries are quite prosaic. On the surface, it's merely a journal of daily events. It appears to cover the period of Miss Lightbourne's engagement and the first few months of her marriage to a man named Mr. Ryder."