She lifted her chin scornfully, unwilling to believe anything Sean said. “I refuse to listen to such ugly rumors.”

“Are you certain they are rumors?”

Raven stared at him. “Are you claiming they are not? Kell said…He led me to believe he didn’t kill your uncle.”

“Would you expect him to do otherwise? He would hardly admit to murder, now would he?” Sean made a scoffing sound. “My brother is not the paragon you think him. You should take warning.”

Raven shook her head, suspicious of Sean’s motives. He was doubtless trying to make trouble between her and his brother. Surely there was not any real substance behind his innuendo. But whatever his aim, she only wanted to be rid of him.

She drew a deep breath. “What will it take to persuade you to leave me alone, Mr. Lasseter? Money? If so, I can give it to you. I have a modest fortune. You can have it if that will stop you from hounding me.”

“You cannot bribe me,” Sean returned with scorn. “No amount of money can make up for the hell you put me through.”

“I am sorry for the pain you suffered. But you have had your revenge. I would call us even.”

“Not even. Never even.” His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “Not until you pay in blood.”

Rising, he moved toward her, his very stance menacing. If he deliberately meant to frighten her, he was succeeding. Raven took a defensive step backward, glancing behind her at the bellpull, wondering if she could reach it in time and summon a servant. If not, she could scream…

When he reached out and grasped her wrist, she winced in pain. The bruises he had inflicted upon her the night of her abduction had only recently faded.

Just then O’Malley appeared. Raven gasped in relief as he grabbed Sean by the collar and yanked him away from her.

When Sean started to struggle, O’Malley drew back his meaty fist, holding it poised threateningly. “ ’Tis clear you didn’t learn the lesson I taught you last time.”

“Unhand me, you bloody cur!” Sean demanded, his face black with rage.

When the groom contemptuously released him, Sean staggered back, running a finger beneath his cravat as if it were too tight. “You will regret that, O’Malley.”

“Not as much as you’ll regret it if you dare to touch her again. Wring your neck, I will, I promise you. You’ll not see your next dawn.”

His scowl returning, Sean took a step forward. But then he stopped, as if considering the wisdom of fighting a man so much brawnier than he.

His fists clenched at his sides, he lowered his voice to a savage whisper. “I would watch your back, if I were you.” Still bristling, Sean brushed past the groom and stalked from the room.

Raven sank into the nearest chair, trembling.

“Are you all right?” O’Malley asked in concern.

“Yes…I think so.”

“ ’Tis sorry I am that I let that bastard slip away the last time. Killed him, I should have.”

She drew a slow breath. “Killing him might have been extreme. And the cost too high. You could have landed in prison or worse.”

“But had I killed the blighter, he wouldn’t be here to accost you now. And you would never have been forced to wed his brother.”

Raven pressed her lips together, refusing to let herself sink into self-pity. “Well, it is done now. I will have to find some way to live with it.”

“I don’t like it, him being free to target you.”

“I don’t care much for the way he threatened you, either,” she responded, remembering Sean’s warning to O’Malley to watch his back.

“I can take care of myself, Miss Raven. ’Tis you who should beware, I’m thinking. You should keep a knife or a pistol close at hand.”

Raven grimaced. She had already shot his brother. She didn’t like to think of having to defend herself by violent means, and yet it might be necessary. “Perhaps I should.”

“Well, I’ll be near if you should need me.”

“Thank you, O’Malley.”

After the groom was gone, she hugged her arms around herself, feeling unclean and afraid. It was a long moment before her shivers began to subside.

Her gaze dropped to the invitations that had fallen to the carpet. She might have made some progress in reducing the scandal, but it was clear she still hadn’t removed the threat.

She still had a dangerous enemy in Sean Lasseter. And so did O’Malley.

When Raven’s groom was shown in, Kell was seated at his desk in his private study, reviewing account books. He looked up in surprise as O’Malley stalked across the carpet.

“A word with you it is I’m wanting, Mr. Lasseter,” the groom said grimly, coming to a halt before the desk. He stood with hat in hand, like any correct servant, but there was nothing humble about his demeanor. Rather, anger etched his craggy features, perhaps even belligerence.

Kell set down his pen. “Is this about my wife?”

“Aye, and your brother.”

He felt his stomach knot.

“I’m not usually one to bear tales,” O’Malley ground out, “but your brother…he came to your house this afternoon to threaten Miss Raven. He nearly struck her.”

“Did he hurt her?” Kell demanded in a sharp voice.

“No, but he would have had I not been there to stop him. I had to show him my fives to make him leave.”

Digesting the groom’s information in silence, Kell felt anger spear through him. Before he could respond, however, O’Malley continued in a voice that was half-furious, half-pleading.

“That won’t be the end of it, I’m thinking. Your brother said he wants revenge for the hell he suffered. But Miss Raven isn’t to blame for what the navy did to him. If anyone is at fault, ’tis myself. When he attacked Miss Raven in the park, I darkened his daylights and left him there to come to his senses. But I swear, I never thought he would be taken up by the impressment gang.”

“No,” Kell replied in a low voice. “If anyone is to blame, it’s Sean for assaulting her in the first place.”

“Aye.” O’Malley nodded fiercely. “He’s already hurt her enough. But I’ve a terrible fear he won’t leave it be. And I don’t know if I can protect her next time.”

Kell felt his jaw harden, along with his resolve. “I will deal with my brother, O’Malley,” he said tightly. “I promise you, Sean won’t hurt her again.”

After finding Sean away from home, Kell visited several haunts his brother normally frequented, finally running him to earth at Madame Fouchet’s. The most elegant sin club in London catered to aristocratic young bloods and wealthy commoners and specialized in fulfilling sexual fantasies.

The proprietor was a shrewd Frenchwoman, the same madame who had supplied the aphrodisiac used on Raven. Madame Fouchet greeted Kell personally, and with fondness.

“How good to see you, mon cher. You have not graced us with your presence in quite some time. We have missed you.”

Kell returned a noncommittal half smile. “I am seeking my brother, madame. Is he perhaps here?”

“Indeed, he is. But he is…occupied at present.”

“Even so, I should like to speak to him.”

“Then you will find him in room number seven.”

Kell started to turn away, but Madame Fouchet stopped him. “I worry about your brother, cher. He seems a very troubled young man. He has such delightful charm, but there are occasions when he has not been…nice to my girls.”

“Is that so?” Kell asked with an edge of grimness. “In that case, you needn’t feel obliged to endure his patronage. And you should not hesitate to call me if he oversteps the bounds.”

“I will do that, monsieur. Thank you.” She smiled. “Of course you must know that you are always welcome here. But I hear you are newly wedded. You will not want to leave your bridal bed for one of my girls, no?”

He feigned a smile and declined to answer directly. “I will keep your invitation in mind, madame.”

The sporting house seemed abnormally quiet as Kell mounted the stairs. But then it was only late afternoon, far too early for the usual revelry.

He had no doubt how he would find his brother, though. And given his own past wildness, he could hardly condemn such dissipation. Kell could well remember his younger years when he first came to London. He had thought nothing of spending the entire day in bed with a beautiful Cyprian, indulging in decadence.

For too long, however, he’d set Sean a bad example. He had sobered greatly since, making an effort to be more discreet, eschewing brothels for longer-term arrangements. His last affair with a wealthy merchant’s widow had ended badly, with tears and recriminations on her part, and he’d refrained from employing another mistress since then.

Perhaps fortunately, Kell reflected, considering the fact that he was now wed. Managing a wife and mistress at the same time was more trouble than he preferred to deal with at the moment. He had enough on his hands with the problem of his brother.

Then again, he might be wise to take up Madame Fouchet’s offer to visit here. Perhaps then he would be able to forget the searing memory of blue eyes and soft breasts and the alluring scent that haunted his dreams.

Trying to dismiss thoughts of his beautiful, unwanted bride, Kell rapped lightly on the door to room seven and was sharply bid entrance.

He found Sean seated on a chaise, a scantily clad beauty on his lap.

“If I might have a word with you in private,” Kell said, not waiting for an invitation before settling himself in a chair opposite his brother.

With a scowl on his face, Sean patted the courtesan’s derriere and sent her from the room.

“So what brings you here, brother?” he asked belligerently. “Not the entertainment, surely. You have no need to drown your sorrows in the arms of a paid whore. You have a wife now-or is she spurning you the way she did me?”