“Mr. Lynd does not have the same considerations I do.”

“Which are…?”

“Sir, you are exasperating.”

And she was fascinating. Her eyes sparkled with irritation, her right foot tapped against the floor, and her fisted hands moved often as if to rest on her hips. But she resisted the urge. He found her resistance most appealing. What would it take to break it and see her unrestrained? He couldn’t wait to find out.

“I will compensate you for your time today,” she said, “so all is not a complete loss to you. There is no need to continue this discussion.”

“You overlook the possibility that I might have intended to assign a member of my crew to you, Miss Martin. I would, however, need to know what your situation is so I can determine whose skills would best suit your requirements.” He intended to service her himself, but he wasn’t above a little subterfuge when the prize was this delicious.

“Oh.” She bit her lower lip again. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“So I noted.”

Miss Martin finally sank back onto the pew in a movement of eminent grace. “Just so we are clear you won’t do.”

“It isn’t clear.” He set his cane between his legs and placed his hands atop it, one over the other. “At least, not to me.”

She glanced at his lordship, then-reluctantly-back to Jasper. “You force me to say what I would rather not, Mr. Bond. Frankly, you are too handsome for the task.”

He was stunned into momentary silence. Then, he relished an inner smile. How delightful she was, even when cross.

“Mr. Lynd was less conspicuous than you,” she continued. “You are quite large and, as I said, far too comely.”

Lynd was a score of years older and average in height, features, and build. Jasper looked to the earl and found the man staring at his niece with confusion. “I fail to see what bearing my face has on my investigative skills.”

“In addition-” her voice grew stronger as she warmed to the topic of his faults, “-it would be impossible to disguise the air about you which distinguishes you.”

“Pray tell me what that is.” He was beginning to find it difficult to hide his growing enjoyment of the conversation.

“You are a predator, Mr. Bond. You have the appearance of one, and you carry yourself like one. To be blunt, you are clearly capable of being a dangerous man.”

“I see.” Fascination deepened into captivation. Perhaps she wasn’t so innocent, after all. He spent obscene amounts of coin on his attire, deliberately crafting an appearance so polished very few saw past it to the rough edges underneath.

“I doubt you would be effective at your profession if you were not possessed of both predatory and dangerous qualities,” she qualified in a conciliatory tone.

“And many others,” he offered.

Miss Martin nodded. “Yes, I suspect the trade requires you to be well versed in a multitude of skills.”

“It certainly helps.”

“However, your masculine beauty negates all of that.”

Jasper was ready to move forward. “Would you get to the point, Miss Martin? What-exactly-did you intend to hire me to accomplish?”

“Quite a bit, actually. Protection, investigation, and…to act as my suitor.”

“I beg your pardon?” Bond’s voice rumbled through the air between them.

Eliza was flustered and out of sorts, and her state was entirely his fault. She had not anticipated that he would be so persistent or so curious. And she had certainly not expected a man of his appearance. Not only was he the handsomest man she had ever seen, but he was dressed in garments fit for a peer and he carried his large frame with a sleek, preda-ceous grace.

He also regarded her in a manner that would only lead to trouble.

To receive such an examination from a man who looked like Jasper Bond was highly disconcerting. Men such as he usually dismissed women of average appearance the moment they saw them. That was why she took such pains to be as unobtrusive in her attire selections as possible. Why encourage responses she was ill-equipped to deal with?

Perhaps his interest was engaged by the color of her hair? Her mother had posited that some men had a peculiar preference for specific parts of the female body and for tresses of a certain hue.

“Repeat yourself, please, Miss Martin,” Bond said, watching her with those dark and intense eyes.

It was her curse to feel compelled to gaze directly at the person with whom she was speaking. She found it difficult to think quickly when awed by Jasper Bond’s perfection. Stunning as he was from the shoulders down, he was more so from the shoulders up. His hair was as thick and dark as her favorite ink, and blessed with a similar sheen. The length- slightly overlong-was perfect for framing his features: the distinguished nose, the deep-set eyes, the stern yet sensual mouth. It was a testament to the way he carried himself that he could be so formidable with such a pretty face. He was very clearly not a man one wished to cross.

“I need protection-” she said again.

“Yes.”

“Investigation-”

“I heard that part.”

“And-” her chin went up, “-a suitor.”

He nodded as if that were a mundane request, but the glitter in his eyes was anticipatory. “That’s what I thought you said.”

“Eliza…” The earl stared at his clasped hands and shook his head.

“My lord,” Bond began in a casual tone. “Were you aware of the nature of Miss Martin’s inquiry?”

“Trying times these are,” Lord Melville muttered. “Trying times.”

Bond’s precise gaze moved back to Eliza. Her brow lifted.

“Is he daft?” Bond queried.

“His brain is so advanced, it stumbles over mediocrity.”

“Or perhaps it’s tangled by your reasoning in this endeavor?”

Her shoulders went back. “My reasoning is sound. And sarcasm is unproductive, Mr. Bond. Please refrain from it.”

“Oh?” His tone took on a dangerous quality. “And what is it you hope to produce by procuring a suitor?”

“I am not in want of stud service, sir. Only a depraved mind would leap to that conclusion.”

“Stud service…”

“Is that not what you are thinking?”

A wicked smile came to his lips. Eliza was certain her heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. “It wasn’t, no.”

Wanting to conclude this meeting as swiftly as possible, she rushed forward. “Do you have someone who can assist me or not?”

Bond snorted softly, but the derisive sound seemed to be directed inward and not at her. “From the beginning, if you would please, Miss Martin. Why do you need protection?”

“I have recently found myself to be a repeated victim of various unfortunate-and suspicious-events.”

Eliza expected him to laugh or perhaps give her a doubtful look. He did neither. Instead, she watched a transformation sweep over him. As fiercely focused as he’d been since his arrival, he became more so when presented with the problem. She found herself appreciating him for more than his good looks.

He leaned slightly forward. “What manner of events?”

“I was pushed into the Serpentine. My saddle was tampered with. A snake was loosed in my bedroom-”

“I understand it was a Runner who referred you to Mr. Lynd, who in turn referred you to me.”

“Yes. I hired a Runner for a month, but Mr. Bell discovered nothing. No attacks occurred while he was engaged.”

“Who would want to injure you, and why?”

She offered him a slight smile, a small show of gratitude for the gravity he was displaying. Anthony Bell had come highly recommended, but he’d never taken her seriously. In fact, he had been amused by her tales and she’d never felt he was dedicated to the task of discovery. “Truthfully, I am not certain whether they intend bodily harm, or if they simply want to goad me into marriage as a way to establish some permanent security. I see no reason to any of it.”

“Are you wealthy, Miss Martin? Or certain to be?”

“Yes. Which is why I doubt they sincerely aim to cause me grievous injury-I am worth more alive. But there are some who believe it isn’t safe for me in my uncle’s household. They claim he is an insufficient guardian, that he is touched and ready for Bedlam. As if any individual capable of compassion would put a stray dog in such a place, let alone a beloved relative.”

“Poppycock,” the earl scoffed. “I am fit as a fiddle, in mind and body.”

“You are, my lord,” Eliza agreed, smiling fondly at him. “I have made it clear to all and sundry that Lord Melville will likely live to be one hundred years of age.”

“And you hope that adding me to your stable of suitors will accomplish what, precisely?” Bond asked. “Deter the culprit?”

“I hope that by adding one of your associates,” she corrected, “I can avoid further incidents over the next six weeks of the Season. In addition, if my new suitor is perceived to be a threat, perhaps the scoundrel will turn his malicious attentions toward him. Then, perhaps, we can catch the fiend. Truly, I should like to know by what methods of deduction he formulated this plan and what he hoped to gain by it.”

Bond settled back into his seat and appeared deep in thought.

“I would never suggest such a hazardous role for someone untrained,” she said quickly. “But a thief-taker, a man accustomed to associating with criminals and other unfortunates…I should think those who engage in your profession would be more than a match for a nefarious fortune hunter.”

“I see.”

Beside her, her uncle murmured to himself, working out puzzles and equations in his mind. Like herself, he was most comfortable with events and reactions that could be quantified or predicted with some surety. Dealing with issues defying reason was too taxing.

“What type of individual would you consider ideal to play this role of suitor, protector, and investigator?” Bond asked finally.