Deb shuddered and he broke off, covering her hand briefly with one of his. His voice had dropped. ‘You would not feel able to marry your cousin Harry, I assume?’

‘No,’ Deb said wretchedly. She tried to keep the pain from her voice, but could not quite succeed. ‘There is nothing wrong with Harry, my lord, other than the fact that we could never be happy together. I may sound selfish, but I have already made one improvident match in my life and have no wish to be miserable a second time.’

She glanced at Richard’s face and saw that he was watching her with both shrewdness and sympathy, and she gave him a shamefaced smile.

‘I am sorry that your first choice was so unhappy,’ he said.

‘I…’ Deb blushed and looked away from his searching gaze. She did not feel comfortable revealing too much to him. ‘I thought that I was in love with Neil,’ she said, with difficulty. ‘It was only on mature reflection that I realised that I had been rather hasty.’

‘You were only married a short time, were you not?’ Richard asked.

Deb nodded. ‘We had five weeks together before he was posted abroad and he died of a fever two months later.’

‘Those five weeks must have been quite dreadful to have left you with such harsh memories,’ Richard said. Deb could sense his eyes upon her, but she did not look up. She could not. All her bitterness and misery had fused into a tight pain in her chest and she could not speak.

After a moment, Richard sighed and said, ‘Forgive me. I realise that you do not wish to speak of it.’

Deb shook her head dumbly. She did not wish to say any more whilst her feelings were in such confusion. She knew that she could not countenance losing her relative independence by returning to Bath, and that another marriage was quite out of the question after the fiasco that had been her first. Making a business arrangement to employ a temporary fiancé had seemed a relatively safe way to thwart her father’s plans and maintain her independent existence.

Yet now that had become far more complicated. The only candidate for the role of fiancé was a man to whom she was drawn by intense feelings that she did not understand and could barely accept. Until her recent wayward thoughts on the subject of taking a lover, she had imagined that she did not wish for male companionship at all. Her attraction to Richard Kestrel had given the lie to that and, though Olivia had made her see that there was nothing unnatural in such feelings, she was still on edge and uncertain what to do. To confide in him now brought a new level of intimacy to their relationship. To accept him as her fiancé, albeit temporarily, would draw them even closer.

‘I am not quite sure how we came to discussing this topic,’ she said, striving for an even tone. ‘What I require is a fiancé acceptable to both myself and my family or-’ she looked at Richard ‘-some other alternative. Perhaps you can help me there?’

Richard shrugged. ‘I can see no alternative.’ He smiled. ‘Fortunately the solution is close at hand. I will be your temporary fiancé.’

Deb jumped up in agitation. ‘I have already told you, my lord. It is quite impossible for you to fulfil the role!’

Richard got to his feet. ‘It is not so foolish. Think for a moment, Mrs Stratton! What could be more acceptable to your family than a betrothal to man who is already an acquaintance of long standing-and a friend to your brother-in-law? It is far more credible than that you produce some stranger for approval, like a magician whipping a rabbit out of a hat. No one would be taken in by that!’

Deb bit her lip. His logic so far was faultless. ‘I cannot believe that my family would approve of you,’ she said slowly. ‘Your reputation precedes you.’

Richard did not seem unduly perturbed. ‘There is not a matchmaking mother on earth,’ he said cynically, ‘who cannot overlook a rake’s reputation if he is rich and titled.’

Deb could not argue with that either, although she tried. ‘I cannot believe that Papa would be so sanguine,’ she said.

‘Oh, he will,’ Richard said, the cynical light still in his eyes. ‘I guarantee it.’

Deb pressed the palms of her hands together. ‘Then there is Liv and Ross. They would never believe that ours was a genuine betrothal. I have told Liv-’ She broke off, biting her lip. She could hardly repeat to him the conversation that she had had with her sister.

‘I told Olivia that I wanted to take you as a lover not a husband’ would start them on an entirely different conversation, and one that would be even more perilous. Which was what made it madness even to consider Lord Richard Kestrel in the role of her fiancé. She was already far too susceptible to his charms as it was.

Richard took her hand. He smiled a little. ‘You have told your sister that you think me a reprobate and want nothing to do with me?’

Deb blushed. ‘Not precisely, but those are the sentiments I should be holding.’

‘Ross would very likely call me out if he knew what we planned.’ Richard’s smile turned rueful. ‘However, I think that it would still probably be worth it.’

Deb did not miss his use of the word ‘we’. Her heart skipped a beat. It seemed that the betrothal plan was suddenly moving rather swiftly.

‘I am persuaded that you are correct,’ she said. ‘Ross may be a friend of yours, but he would never countenance our betrothal, nor the deceit involved in misleading my father.’ She freed herself from his grip, ‘Oh, I wish I had never started this! There must be a dozen reasons why it would never work. You will not do, my lord. I wanted someone deferential. You are too…too forceful and too high-handed…’

She turned away. There was far more to it than that, of course. There was something about Richard Kestrel that made her respond on the most instinctive and feminine of levels, something male and dangerous. To accept him as her fiancé, temporary or not, to agree to spend more time with him, to allow him insidiously to grow closer to her…These were all such foolish ideas that she had to put a stop to them now.

Richard was standing close to her, unnervingly close. ‘I think that we are approaching the crux of the problem,’ he said softly. ‘Your other protestations could be overcome. You are using them as a distraction. What you really object to is me personally. Why is that, Mrs Stratton?’

He was so near to her that Deb felt utterly overwhelmed. She made a slight, nervous gesture. ‘I have already told you the answer to that, my lord. You are the opposite of all the qualities that I require in a fiancé, temporary or otherwise! You are also an untrustworthy rogue.’

Richard caught her wildly waving hands. ‘You object to me because you are attracted to me,’ he said.

Deb gasped. ‘You go too far, my lord.’

‘Frequently. It is true, though, is it not?’

‘I do not feel comfortable with you,’ Deb prevaricated. ‘It would be ridiculous to try to convince anyone that I was betrothed to you when I feel so ill at ease in your company.’

‘We could overcome that,’ Richard said, ‘if you could trust me.’

Deb’s heart jumped. A part of her, a deeply instinctive part, wanted to do just that. It was extraordinary. Her head was telling her that she was making a mistake but her intuition was telling her that she could depend on him.

He leaned closer to her. ‘Deborah-’ she caught her breath at his use of her name ‘-my impression is that you are accustomed to living alone and relying on your own resources, but that, in this one matter, you need some help.’ His gaze trapped and held hers. ‘Why else come up with this unorthodox solution to your difficulties? It might go against the grain with you, but you need a strong man who can protect you, not someone meek or compliant. Whilst I am with you, you will be safe. I swear it.’

Deb stared into his dark eyes. The vision was so seductive. Her father had never offered to protect her, and neither had Neil Stratton in the short time that she had known him. Rather the reverse, in fact, for he had done everything in his power to ruin her. And now Richard Kestrel was offering her his protection. She wanted to accept it, and everything that it entailed. She struggled against the temptation.

‘Ross will help me-’ she began.

Richard shook his head. ‘Ross cannot prevent your father from forcing you to stay in Bath, nor can he prevent him marrying you off if he so chooses. I can.’

Deb closed her eyes. She knew that he was right. If she arrived at Walton Hall with some nonentity of a man or, worse still, alone, there would be no one to stand between her and a betrothal to her cousin.

‘Papa is not cruel,’ she said, thinking of her father and wanting Richard to understand. ‘It is merely that he is not accustomed to opposition and he wants to see me safely married off. None of the others-Liv, Michael, Guy-has ever done anything to thwart him…’

‘You do not need to explain to me,’ Richard said swiftly. ‘I understand.’ He smiled at her. ‘Is it agreed, then? Are we betrothed?’

Deb looked at him. Betrothed to Lord Richard Kestrel. She was not sure if she was mad or dreaming.

‘We are betrothed,’ she confirmed, adding hastily, ‘temporarily.’

Richard’s smile made her feel warm deep in her bones. ‘Temporarily,’ he said. ‘Of course. May I kiss my fiancée?’

‘No!’ Deb said. She felt a little panicked. ‘Before we go any further, my lord, there are a number of conditions I should like to clarify.’

‘Of course.’ Richard sat down on the bench again and drew her down beside him. He sounded obliging, but Deb had the impression that her difficulties might start right here.

‘There is to be no kissing or intimate behaviour,’ she said, ‘unless-’ She stopped, appalled at the way her thoughts had almost run away with her tongue again.

Richard was looking very interested. ‘Unless?’ he queried softly.