Lee swallowed as realization dawned. Good Lord, he thinks I'm a doxy! She was hardly that and she never would be. What a courtesan did was different, her aunt had always said. She was the one in control, the one who did the choosing. It meant both pleasure and freedom. It was not in the least the same.

"My friends are waiting." She tugged on her wrist. "I have to go." She jerked harder, but he didn't release her.

Instead, he stuffed his free hand into the pocket of a pair of worn breeches and pulled out another coin. "Ye drive a hard bargain, luv, but I wager yer worth it."

She started to tell him she wasn't interested in his money but he moved so quickly, she only got out a squeak before she was flat on her back beneath him, his heavy weight pressing her into the grass between the buildings.

"Let… me… go," she said between panting breaths, truly angry now, shoving against his chest to dislodge him, trying to suck in a breath of air. "I'm not a… doxy… you fool! I don't want your money!"

Still gripping her wrist, which he dragged above her head, he dropped the coins into her palm and closed her fingers around them, then started to shove up her skirt. For the first time, real fear shot through her.

"Let… me… go!"

Instead she felt one of his hands groping her breast. She could feel his hardness pressing into her stomach and the edge of fear blossomed into fullblown panic. She tried to scream, but he muffled the sound with a wet, sticky kiss. She gagged, tried to turn her head away, and the bristles on his face roughly abraded her cheek. She struggled harder, tried to dislodge him as one of his callused hands slid up her thigh; then he started working the buttons on the front of his breeches.

Desperate now, she bit down hard on his lip and tasted the coppery flavor of blood.

"Ouch!" The jovial expression faded from his face. He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand. "Lit'le tart. I'll swive ye now and keep the blunt. I'll learn ye ta toy with Danny Cheek."

The sounds she made were muffled by the hand that covered her mouth and another of his breeches' button's popped free. She started fighting again, tried to bite him, tried to twist free, but he was big and strong and his heavy weight pinned her in the grass.

"Let her go." The familiar voice was soft with deadly warning, and hearing it now sent a wave of relief rushing through her so strong she felt dizzy. She turned her head enough to see him, standing a few feet away, his legs braced apart and his hands balled into fists. "I said, let her go."

Danny Cheek's big body tightened. Then his heavy weight lifted away as he slowly gained his feet. Tears of relief clogged her throat. Caleb was here. Everything was going to be all right. With shaking hands, she sat up and pulled her dress down, covering her garters and stockings. Using the wall of the building for support, she pushed herself unsteadily to her feet.

A short distance away, the two men faced each other as if they meant to tear each other limb from limb. The blond man's face was a fiery shade of red and she had never seen such fury in Caleb's dark eyes before.

Something shifted in the blond man's expression. He cast her a glance, then shrugged as if the matter were no longer important. "Ye want her that bad, me friend, ye can have her." Reaching down, he picked up the coins she had left in the grass and turned to leave, but at the very last instant he spun back.

Lee screamed at the powerful blow he unleashed at Caleb, who ducked the impact as if he had known it was coming and threw a hard punch in return. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of the blond man's mouth. Caleb's second blow landed with such force it knocked Danny Cheek clear off his feet. He hit the ground with a grunt and his head whacked hard against the wooden wall of the building. His eyes rolled up inside his head and his face went slack. He didn't move so much as a muscle.

The last of her fear disappeared, leaving her limp and shaken. Caleb remained exactly where he was, feet still braced and his hands still fisted. A slow breath whispered from his lungs and he lifted his gaze to her face.

Caleb frowned as he started walking toward her. She didn't realize she was crying until he hauled her into his arms.

"It's all right. I've got you."

She leaned into the heat of him, the solid feel of his body. "I'm sorry. I just—"

"It's all right," he repeated, smoothing back a curl that had come loose from its pins and drooped beside her ear. "He's not going to bother you again."

Her fingers curled into the front of his homespun shirt. She tried to stop shaking but she kept thinking of what might have happened and fresh tears stung her eyes. Caleb just held her, pressing her into the warmth of his chest.

"I wasn't… I wasn't frightened at first, but then… then I couldn't make him stop and I couldn't get away." She dragged in a shaky breath, but she didn't let go and neither did he.

Instead his hold seemed to tighten. "It's over." She felt his lips against her hair. "It was just a mistake. There's nothing more to be afraid of."

She nodded, hung on to him a few moments more, absorbing the feeling of safety that was unlike anything she had felt before. Caleb was different. She knew that in some deep, elemental part of herself. He was nothing at all like the other men of her acquaintance. As maddening as he could be, he always seemed to be there when she needed him.

She took another deep breath and straightened away from him, forced herself to move away. "Thank you, Caleb. I don't know what would have happened if—"

"The man was an idiot. It's over and you're safe. That's all that matters." He flicked a glance at the figure crumpled against the wall, then settled a hand protectively at her waist and started leading her away. Behind them, she heard the blond man groan and begin to move in the grass, but she didn't think he would follow. The murderous look in Caleb's eyes had warned what would happen if he did.

Caleb stopped in a spot out of sight behind a hedgerow and turned her to face him. He caught her chin to examine the beard scratches on her cheek, then took out a handkerchief and wiped away a smudge of dirt beneath her ear. With a softly muttered curse, he stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket and she realized he was still angry.

"I can't believe you went off by yourself that way. You know the sort of men who frequent places like this. What the hell were you thinking?"

She swallowed, tried not to be intimidated by the hard look in his eyes now directed at her. "I was looking for Jimmy. I wanted to make certain everything was set for tomorrow's race. I knew I had made a mistake the moment I saw the man on the path but by then it was too late."

His features didn't soften. "You're still shaking, dammit. I would think in your line of work, you'd be used to dealing with a man's unwanted advances."

He was speaking to Vermillion, but it was Lee who had nearly been ravished—mistake or not. Her chin went up. She hoped it didn't tremble. "Sleeping with one's lover is scarcely the same as being forced to the will of some low-moraled gutter rat. I should think even a man like you would understand that."

She turned away from him, trying not to think what had almost happened, determined not to let him see how upset she really was. She started hurrying along the hedgerow, desperate for a moment to compose herself, to become Vermillion again, but the sound of Caleb's boots, pounding through the grass behind her, told her she wasn't going to escape.

Lee whirled to face him and he must have noticed how pale she was, for he hesitated only an instant before he pulled her into his arms.

"I'm sorry, dammit. When I saw you struggling with that big blond oaf, something inside me just snapped." She felt his chin on the top of her head. "Howie told me you'd gone off to look for Jimmy. When he showed me which way you went, I was afraid you were in for trouble." He held her away from him. "Don't ever do that again, you hear me?"

Lee looked up, caught his fierce black scowl, and began to smile. She was his employer, the woman who paid his wages. Only Caleb Tanner would have the cheek to give her orders. And yet she found his concern oddly endearing.

His scowl went even blacker. "You think it's funny? You were manhandled and very nearly raped and you think it's funny?"

She shook her head, fighting a grin. "I don't think it is the least bit funny. I do, however, find your audacity amusing—considering I am the one who is supposed to be giving the orders. And I am extremely touched by your concern. Thank you again, Caleb. I shall not forget what you did for me today. And I will remember to be more careful in the future."

The scowl slid away, but the worry remained. "This isn't a place for a woman alone, Vermillion."

The smile she wore softened. "Lee," she said to him gently. "My friends call me Lee." Then she turned and walked away.


The day of the Gold Cup arrived and Vermillion, along with her aunt and several carriages filled with gaily dressed members of their party, left the house and headed for the racecourse. Though a bright sun beat down on the row of coaches lining the course, a stiff wind rattled the flags and banners set out along the distance the horses were set to run.

Seated in the carriage today, next to Colonel Wingate, Vermillion watched the colorful spectacle and the jockeys milling about in the bright silks of their owners' stable: the scarlet and blue of the Earl of Winston, the impressive green and gold that signified the Duke of Chester, the familiar purple-and-white silk of the Earl of Rotham.

Vermillion could see the countess in a coach farther down, seated across from the earl, their attendance together done occasionally for the sake of propriety. Next to Vermillion, across from her aunt, Colonel Wingate leaned toward her.