The duke sighed. “I can’t be angry with you, my dear. You were not to blame for what befell you. But I wish you had come to me for help.”

“I’m sorry, Charles, but I didn’t think I had any choice. Can you not understand that?”

“I suppose I can. Very well, then…I should take you home.”

“Charles…” She hesitated, wondering if she could risk asking him for a favor. “I would rather you accompany me elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“To the Golden Fleece.” Raven hastened to explain. “As I said, I owe Lasseter a great deal, but he is suffering because of me. Your accusations have nearly ruined him, Charles. If you would only make a brief appearance at his club, perhaps spend a little time at his gaming tables, it would go a long way to refute the rumors you’ve been circulating about his dishonesty. Please, for my sake, won’t you at least consider helping him?”

“You forget, I don’t gamble.”

“But you could make an exception just this once. I will gladly stake you the funds. A few thousand pounds should be more than adequate. If you could just manage to lose it with good grace-”

“Don’t be absurd.” His tone was stiff but held a wry note. “I can afford to lose a few thousand.”

“Then you will come with me?”

Halford sighed again, this time with exasperation. “I cannot imagine how I manage to let you talk me into the very things I despise.”

Smiling with fervent relief, Raven grasped his ungloved hand and pressed it to her lips in gratitude. “Because you are a wonderful, magnanimous man who believes in doing what is right.”

For the hour of midnight, St. James Street was surprisingly well-populated by revelers and gamesters and swells making their way about town. But there was little traffic passing through the doors of the Golden Fleece.

When Raven and her guest were admitted by the majordomo and escorted to the gaming room, she hesitated, surveying the small crowd with dismay; the number of gamblers was far smaller than on previous nights, she suspected from what Emma had told her. She could only pray that would soon change.

Her heart in her throat, Raven took the duke’s arm and stepped forward, then paused for effect. A hush slowly fell over the room, just as she had hoped; they were the focus of all eyes.

When she spied Kell, her heart took up a rapid rhythm. His expression remained impassive as he unhurriedly moved her way, but she didn’t presume he was pleased to see her, or the Duke of Halford, either.

He came to a halt before them, neither bowing nor greeting them.

Tension hung heavy in the air as the two men regarded each other-combatants sizing up their foe.

Raven took a deep breath and hastened to make the introductions. “Your grace, may I present my husband, Mr. Kell Lasseter. Kell, this is Charles Shawcross, Duke of Halford.”

“Your grace,” Kell said tersely. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit?” His slight emphasis on the word “honor” suggested it was no such thing.

Halford returned a stiff smile. “It seems that I owe you an apology, Mr. Lasseter. Regrettably I have made some unfounded accusations against your establishment, impugning your honesty and your reputation. To my shame, my motives were hardly pure. I confess I was insanely jealous after you won my bride from under my very nose. But I sincerely hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

When Kell’s dark eyes narrowed, Halford turned to glance at Raven. “There, is that adequate, my dear?”

His generous apology was more than she had even hoped for. She might have kissed his hand again, but knew he wouldn’t appreciate such a public display. Nor did she wish to give rise to further gossip.

Instead her lips curved in a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Charles,” she said softly. “I think you must be the kindest man I have ever known.”

Halford’s cheeks took on a slight flush as he returned his attention to Kell. “And you are a fortunate man, Lasseter. I trust you will take good care of her.”

Raven felt Kell’s sharp gaze sweep her before he replied, “I intend to, your grace.”

Glancing around, the duke eyed the hazard table with curiosity. “I am not much of a gambler, but I am willing to attempt it, if I could prevail upon you for some instruction.”

With a single glance, Kell summoned his hostess, who had been watching the exchange along with everyone else in the room. “This is Miss Emma Walsh, your grace. She will assist you in every way possible. And whatever gaming you do will be on the house. If you will excuse me, I should like to have a word with my wife.”

If Halford was put out by being relegated to an underling, he didn’t show it. His bow was all politeness as he acknowledged the beautiful hostess. “I am honored, Miss Walsh.”

Emma returned a pleasant smile. “I would be delighted to show you how hazard is played, your grace, if you will come this way…”

Raven was left alone with Kell and his simmering anger. She nearly flinched as she met his dangerous gaze.

“And just what did you promise your duke in exchange for his apology, dear wife?” he asked in a silken tone.

She stiffened at his insinuation. “I promised him nothing. I simply told him the truth about our marriage, that it wasn’t a love match, and that you were a perfect stranger who saved me not only from your brother, but from the wretched fate of becoming an outcast. It so happens that Halford has a generous nature-more generous than I even hoped. I merely asked him to make a public appearance here, to help refute the rumors that he himself started, but he added the rest.” Her own gaze narrowed. “And you might show him the smallest measure of gratitude. Your club should be safe now.”

She turned on her heel then and walked away, leaving Kell to fume alone.

He didn’t want to show any gratitude toward the duke. It infuriated him to be obliged to anyone, particularly to a man of Halford’s elevated rank. It infuriated him more that a nobleman could wield such power over his life, rousing his dormant sense of inferiority and impotence.

As for his meddling wife…she’d brazenly disregarded his wishes. Kell’s gaze settled upon Raven as she stood with her duke at the hazard table.

Her duke.

His rival.

Kell clenched his fists, jealousy an unexpectedly fierce emotion inside him. As much as he despised admitting it, the sight of them so close together fired every possessive male instinct in his blood-and stirred unwanted images in his mind as well of Raven surrendering to her lover.

It made his blood boil to think of his aristocratic rival touching his wife, enjoying her lovely body, caressing her full, ripe breasts, her long, slender legs. Hell and damnation, he wanted to be the one suckling her rose-hued nipples, stroking her creamy ivory skin, so velvet smooth beneath his hands…

The very thought made his loins ache.

Cursing again, Kell turned away. He had to get hold of himself before he became no better than his brother, filled with lust and insane jealousy, ready to do battle for the tempting Raven Kendrick.

As she absently watched the gaming, Raven was highly aware of her husband’s brooding gaze surveying the crowd. Kell stood to one side, seeming alone even in a room full of people. A breed apart. A rebel.

His smoldering intensity only added to his appearance of isolation, as did the scar that marred the chiseled perfection of his face.

It was no wonder he was considered an outcast, she thought, remembering his almost grudging acceptance of the duke’s apology. Polite society didn’t take kindly to a man who showed so little deference to their rules, and Kell seemed to relish his defiant, black-sheep image.

Raven found it impossible to keep her glance from him. He was remote, enigmatic, notorious. And she was more drawn to him than any man she had ever known.

Was it because at heart, she was something of a black sheep herself? Because she understood what it meant to be alone? Or was it because Kell didn’t want her? Because he was eminently capable of resisting her charms? Or perhaps it was the lure of forbidden danger that she found so potent.

From their first moment together, she’d felt that perilous pull to danger, the breathless thrill of walking a cliff edge. A primal threat that only stirred the restlessness inside her…

Raven shivered. How could she be so enticed by a man who made her feel this vulnerable? So fiercely attracted to one who didn’t need or want her?

Casting another glance at Kell, she suddenly stiffened. Emma Walsh had joined him as he stood on the sidelines. Seeing them with their heads close together aroused a hot sting of jealousy within Raven.

She scarcely noticed when Dare came up to her.

He followed her narrowed gaze for a moment, then said in an amused drawl, “If I were Miss Walsh, I would take great care. You look as if you want to scratch her eyes out.”

Pressing her lips together, Raven dragged her thoughts away from her irksome husband and his beautiful mistress and focused her attention on the marquess. “Have you just now arrived?”

“Yes. I had a prior engagement. A pity,” Dare remarked. “I hear I missed all the excitement. Word has already flown around town about Halford’s public apology. I suppose you orchestrated it?”

“I only asked him to make an appearance here. Halford did the rest.”

“I should have thought your husband would be more pleased.”

“Not Kell,” Raven muttered. “He considers the duke’s gesture charity.”

“Well, a man has his pride. But even so, Lasseter should be grateful to you.”

“He wants nothing to do with me.”