"No, thank you." He walked toward her, his gaze resting on hers in a way that oddly unsettled her. When only several feet separated them, he said, "I prefer to stand to express my regrets that we parted company on a strained note last evening. I did not mean to upset you."

The warmth radiating from his velvety brown eyes indicated his sincerity, but she'd learned over the past few weeks that seemingly sincere words flowed from gentlemen's lips like honey from a hive.

"You did not upset me, Lord Wesley."

When he raised his brows in a manner that clearly indicated he didn't believe her, she clarified, "You annoyed me."

Something that looked like amusement flashed in his eyes. "Ah. Then please allow me to express my regrets forannoying you. In spite of how it may have appeared, I was not trying to glean information from you. And I merely wished to point out the extreme folly of your desire to aid a wanted criminal."

Her hands clenched. "You express your regrets for annoying me, my lord, yet you continue to do so by again offering your unsolicited opinion."

"I assure you I am-"

"I say, Sammie," Hubert's voice broke in from just beyond the doorway. "What's keeping you?" Turning, Sammie watched Hubert stride into the parlor, then stop dead at the sight of her guest. "Oh, I beg your pardon," he said, his face flushing red. "I didn't realize you were entertaining."

"No reason to apologize," she assured Hubert with a smile she hoped didn't betray her relief at his interruption. "The earl is a very busy man. I'm sure he won't wish to occupy himself with me much longer." From the corner of her eye she noticed a whisper of a smile pass the earl's lips.

Striving to keep her voice level, Sammie performed the necessary introductions, watching the earl closely, all her protective instincts for Hubert on alert. Last week, when Viscount Carsdale had called upon her, she'd introduced Hubert to the gentleman. Hubert's face had fallen when the viscount's gaze had flicked over him with dismissive disdain, flooding Sammie with the urge to slap the arrogant man. She was well-accustomed to social slights and had learned to disregard them, but Hubert was still sensitive to such cuts. If the earl acted in a similar fashion…

Surprise suffused her when Lord Wesley extended his hand in a friendly, unaffected manner. "A pleasure to meet you, lad," he said.

"The pleasure's mine, my lord," Hubert said, his face flushing deeper. He returned his attention to Sammie. "Sorry to interrupt, but when you didn't meet me in the Chamber as you'd promised, I grew concerned that the Cricket had waylaid you." A grin flashed across his face. "Thought you might need rescuing."

I did indeed, but not from Mama. Before she could respond, Lord Wesley asked, "Chamber?"

"My Chamber of Experiments," Hubert said. "I converted the old barn into a laboratory."

Interest filled Lord Wesley's gaze. "Indeed? And what do you do there?"

"All manner of experiments." Hubert cast a quick, self-conscious glance toward Sammie, then continued. "I also use it for my inventions and my astronomy studies."

"I've an interest in astronomy myself," the earl said. "I'm hoping the weather will be clear this evening so I might view the stars."

Hubert's face lit up. "As am I. It's a fascinating science, is it not? Sammie… I mean, Samantha, loves it as well."

Lord Wesley's gaze shifted to her. "Do you, indeed, Miss Briggeham?"

"Yes," she said briskly. "In fact, I was about to join Hubert in his Chamber when you called." Surely the earl would realize her broad hint and take his leave.

"My new telescope just arrived from London," Hubert reported to the earl. "Perhaps you'd like to see it?"

Sammie barely squelched a horrified squeak. "I'm sure Lord Wesley has pressing matters awaiting him, Hubert."

There was no mistaking the amusement glittering in the earl's eyes. "I do?"

"Don't you?"

"Actually, I'd be very interested to see Hubert's telescope."

"Surely you don't wish to-"

"Oh, it's a very fine one, my lord," Hubert broke in. " 'Twould be an honor to show it to you."

"I accept your kind invitation. Thank you." Lord Wesley offered Sammie a smile that appeared distinctly smug, a fact that tensed her shoulders. Extending his arm toward her, he said, "Shall we, Miss Briggeham?"

Mentally cursing her beloved brother for including the bothersome man in their outing, she forced a smile. She debated ignoring his arm, but decided not to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that his presence disturbed her in any way. Besides, Hubert was clearly excited at the prospect of showing off his telescope. Surely she could endure the earl's presence for a short time longer… provided he did not voice disparaging words about the Bride Thief again. If he did, she'd simply change the subject, then send him on his way with all deliberate speed. And after today, she'd most likely never see him again.

Yes, that was a very simple, logical, practical plan. Resting her hand lightly on Lord Wesley's sleeve, they followed Hubert from the room.


Eric strolled along a winding garden path flanked by a profusion of roses, and tried to hide the smile that tugged incessantly on his lips. Miss Briggeham's fingers rested on his sleeve with what appeared to be all the enthusiasm of one touching a large, hairy, potentially poisonous insect. He had to admit that her reaction to him piqued his interest and curiosity. Women were always only too pleased to receive, as well as seek, his company. Perhaps such would still be the case were he not an earl, but certainly being titled and wealthy guaranteed him an excess of female attention.

Except, obviously, for Miss Samantha Briggeham, who looked as if she'd just as soon toss him into the privet hedges than spend another minute with him. When her brother had invited him to view his telescope, Miss Briggeham had looked as if she'd swallowed her tongue-a fact that simultaneously annoyed and amused him.

Determined to break the silence between them, he remarked, "Your brother mentioned a 'Cricket' earlier. Who, or what, is that?"

A subtle blush stole over her cheeks. "It's merely a silly name we call our mother. She tends to chirp when overtaken by the vapors."

"I see," he murmured, recalling with amusement that Mrs. Briggeham had indeed chirped last evening when she'd claimed to feel faint-just before hauling Misters Babcock and Whitmore away.

They walked for nearly a full minute in silence, and for reasons he could not explain, Eric took perverse delight in deliberately keeping their pace at a near crawl to counteract Miss Briggeham's not-as-subtle-as-she-believed attempts to hurry him along. Noting Hubert was far enough ahead of them not to be able to hear their conversation, the devil inside him prompted him to say, "You didn't want me to join you. May I ask why?"

She turned quickly, peering at him through her thick spectacles before turning her attention once more to the path in front of them. When she didn't answer for several long seconds, he prompted, "Tell me. Do not fear you will hurt my tender feelings. I'm quite impervious to verbal barbs, I assure you."

"Very well, my lord. Since you insist, I shall be perfectly blunt. I don't believe I like you."

"I see. And therefore you do not relish the thought of my company."

"Precisely."

"I must say, Miss Briggeham, I don't believe anyone has ever said such a thing to me before."

She sent him an arch, sidelong glance. "I find that very difficult to believe, Lord Wesley."

He should have been appalled at her temerity-and at the unmistakable insult that was only slightly tempered by the glint of deviltry in her eyes. Instead, he was unexpectedly amused.

"Hard to believe or not, I'm afraid it's true," he said. "In fact, so many people so often make it a point to tell me how much they like me and enjoy my company, I often find myself suspicious of their motives. I find it rather refreshing that you think I'm…"

"Annoying?" she supplied in a helpful tone.

"Exactly. However, since your brother's invitation forces you to endure my company for a bit longer, I propose we call a truce of sorts."

"What do you mean?"

"Clearly any mention of the Bride Thief raises your hackles, and believe it or not, it distresses me to be thought of as an annoyance."

She turned toward him and cocked a brow. "You did ask for the truth, my lord. And I cannot imagine that my opinion of you would affect you one way or another."

You're right. It shouldn't. But damn it, for some inexplicable reason, it does.

Before he could reply, she continued, "So am I to understand that this truce you are proposing would require you not to express your opinions about the Bride Thief, and me to refrain from calling you annoying?"

"You've summed it up quite nicely, Miss Briggeham."

Unmistakable mischief glinted in her eyes. "May I continue to think of you as annoying?"

"Of course. However, you should be aware that by doing so, you present me with an irresistible challenge."

"Indeed? What is that?"

"Why, the need to prove you wrong, of course."

Laughter erupted from her lips, and her eyes twinkled up at him. "Do you think there's any chance of that?"

He clutched his hand over his heart. "You wound me, Miss Briggeham, I'll have you know I'm rarely wrong. In fact, now that I think upon it, I don't believe I have ever been wrong."

She made a tsk-ing sound and shook her head. "Dear me. Annoying and arrogant. So many words beginning with 'a' to describe one man. And that is just the start of the alphabet."