His gaze instantly dropped to her hands. And his fury flared. Her delicate wrists were badly abraded. He snatched his handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and pressed it gently against the raw skin, which seeped blood. The sight of her injuries, the rage it inspired, rendered him momentarily speechless.

"They said they meant to kill you," she whispered. A look that could only be described as fierce entered her eyes. Indeed, she suddenly looked like an avenging fury. "I wasn't going to let them hurt you."

Bloody hell. His heart just… melted. "I can see that."

"They put a hood over my head and stuffed an awful rag in my mouth," she said, the words coming quickly between rapid breaths. "I pretended I'd swooned while I worked on loosening the ropes and spitting out the rag. As soon as the door squeaked, I knew it was you. There were two of them and only one of you, and I was so frightened." She drew in a shaky breath. "I would have shot them, you know. If I'd had to. And, well, if I'd had a pistol. I would have used that knife."

Unable to stop himself, he raised her hands and gently pressed his lips against her fingers. "You may have been frightened, but you, my darling princess, were absolutely magnificent."

"I was?"

"Beyond magnificent. You were brave and determined, courageous and dogged. If I had to choose one word, it would be fierce."

A bit of color washed into her pale cheeks. She moistened her lips. "I… thank you. I believe that is the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. I knew you would come for me."

Gideon nodded, unable to speak around the sudden lump in his throat. He brushed his lips over her scraped wrists and pulled in a deep breath. And almost smiled. Bloody hell, in spite of all she'd been through, the scent of vanilla still clung to her skin. He looked into her eyes and spoke the simple truth. "I never would have stopped looking for you, Julianne."

Her bottom lip trembled, and tears pooled in her eyes. "I know," she whispered. "Thank you. But about all those nice things you said… most of all, I was just very scared." A tear spilled over to trail down her cheek followed by several more, and a breathy sob escaped her. "I don't feel very fierce or determined now. In fact… oh, dear, I think I'm going to cry."

The tears overflowed in earnest, and with a groan, Gideon shifted to sit next to her. He pulled her into his arms, and she buried her face against his neck. Feeling utterly helpless, he held her close. Brushed his lips over her soft hair. Whispered words he hoped would soothe her. And with every breath, he fell deeper in love with her. His fiercely brave, terrified princess who escaped her ropes, spat out her gag, screamed to warn him, and would have stabbed anyone who'd tried to hurt him. Bloody hell, she wasn't a princess. She was a… gown-clad warrior.

After a few minutes her sobs subsided, and he leaned back to dab at her wet eyes with his handkerchief.

"I've gone through more handkerchiefs with you in the last few days than I normally use in a month," he teased, hoping to coax a smile from her.

She took it from him and gave her nose a mighty blow. "You might want this one washed before I return it."

"Keep it. You might need it again."

"I hope not. I don't want to cry again." Her gaze searched his. "You were marvelously clever. Pretending you had two pistols. And gloriously brave."

"I'm glad you think so, but I think it only fair to tell you that I was also never so frightened in my entire life." He touched his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face. "When I saw those men grab you…" He briefly closed his eyes, and a shudder ran through him. "If anything had happened to you-"

She touched her fingers to his lips. "But it didn't. Because of you."

He shook his head, dislodging her fingers. "If I'd been closer to you, they wouldn't have been able to grab you in the first place. Why were you standing there all alone? Why didn't you walk to the punch bowl with you friends?"

"The duke told me to wait there. He was going to fetch a diamond ring from the ducal collection then come back and announce our engagement. Instead it appeared he discovered he'd been robbed." She offered him a tremulous smile. "And you saved my life."

Damn it, the way she was looking at him, as if he were a hero, half shamed him because he hadn't kept her from being snatched, and half made him feel so bloody good he couldn't speak. His gaze dropped to her lips, and a groan rose in his throat. There were reasons, so many reasons, not to kiss her, but God help him, he couldn't think of even one of them.

He leaned toward her. Her lips parted. And the hack jerked to a halt.

Julianne blinked then looked out the window. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe." He alighted then assisted her. After paying the driver, he said, "There's an extra bob in it for you if you'll deliver a message for me. Wait here. I'll be right back."

The driver agreed, and Gideon escorted Julianne up the short walkway. A moment later they entered a small foyer. Julianne's eyes widened. "Is this your home?"

"Yes." He tried his best to sound casual and shove aside the knowledge that it was sorely lacking in comparison to the mansion in which she lived. "It's safe and was closer than Grosvenor Square. Come."

He led her to his study and quickly lit the lamp on his desk. "Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. I need to write a quick note to the magistrate." He completed his task, sealed the note with wax, then wrote the direction on the outside. The entire time he was aware of Julianne looking around the room. When he finished, he excused himself to give the note to the hackney. He then gathered some cloths, bandages, salve, and a bowl of water. Before reentering the study, he paused in the doorway. Julianne stood before the unlit fireplace, lightly trailing her fingers along the mantel.

The sight of her in his home did something to his insides. Filled them with a sensation he'd never experienced before. By virtue of her aristocratic birth she shouldn't look right here, yet somehow, in the soft light of the single lamp he'd lit, she appeared as if she belonged precisely where she was. Standing before his hearth. Touching his mantel clock, whose ticking was the only sound in the room.

She must have sensed his presence, because she turned. Their eyes met, and he felt as if he'd been punched in the heart. How he was going to get her out of here without breaking his vow to himself, he didn't know. He wasn't even sure if he cared anymore.

Pushing off from the doorway, he slowly approached her. "I want to clean and treat your wounds then bandage your wrists."

"All right." She sat on the sofa, and after setting down his supplies, he retrieved the lamp from his desk and settled himself next to her.

"I didn't know you lived in a house," she said as he gently washed her raw skin with a dampened cloth.

When she winced, his jaw clenched with suppressed fury at the bastards who had tied her. "Oh? You thought I lived in a cave?"

She gave a short laugh. "No. I imagined you in bachelor's rooms."

"I bought the house several years ago. We never had one when I was a child, and I wanted somewhere permanent. A place to call home. Somewhere that was… mine." He applied the salve, forcing his gaze to remain on his task, fearing that if he looked into her eyes, he would be lost.

"Those men mentioned a Jack Mayne," she said softly. "They said he was your father. And that he'd helped them. Is your father a… philanthropist?"

A humorless sound escaped Gideon. "Not exactly." Although based on what Will and Perdy had said, there was clearly more to Jack Mayne than Gideon knew.

"Your parents," Julianne said, her voice filled with hesitancy. "Are they anything like mine?"

"An earl and a countess? Hardly."

"No. I meant were they… good to you?"

An image of Jack Mayne materialized in Gideon's mind's eye, kneeling down so he was on eye level with his young son. Just slip yor fingers into the bloke's coat pocket, light and easy, and bring me back wot's in there. Then of his mother, thin, pale, her coughing worsening until every breath became a struggle and rattle in her lungs-

He blinked away the image and shrugged. "I wasn't beaten or abused, if that's what you mean. My mother died when I was fourteen. She'd been sick for a long time."

"You loved her very much."

Her death was an ache that had softened with time but one he knew would never completely fade. "Very much. And like you, I am a great disappointment to my father."

"How could any father be disappointed in such a fine son?"

"How could any father be disappointed in such a fine daughter?"

"Because she wasn't a son. Why was your father disappointed?"

He hesitated then said, "I chose the army and Bow Street rather than follow in his footsteps."

"But surely there is nothing nobler than fighting for your country and upholding the law. What was his trade?"

Gideon debated not telling her then inwardly shrugged. They were Jack's sins, not his. "Pickpocket. Petty thief. He was also very good picking locks."

He felt her start of surprise. "Your father was a… thief?"

"Yes." As far as Gideon knew, Jack still was one. "He's never quite forgiven me for joining what he calls the wrong side of the law, and I've never quite forgiven him for… well, many things." Mostly the pain Jack's countless infidelities had caused Gideon's mother.

"Based on what Perdy and Will said about your father, about him helping them and others, perhaps he's changed his ways."