“Join me for luncheon,” the earl suggested. “My kitchen is not fancy, particularly in this heat, but we know how to keep starvation at bay.”

“I will accept that generous offer,” Hazlit said. “My breakfast was ages ago and not very substantial.” The earl rang for luncheon on a tray, sending up a small prayer of thanks he’d have a valid excuse for not joining Anna and Dev on the back terrace. When lunch came, it showed that Anna was not behaving herself exclusively as a guest: There was a single daisy in a bud vase on each tray, and the marzipan was wrapped in linen, a little bouquet of violets serving as the bow.

“Your kitchen isn’t fancy,” Hazlit remarked, “but somebody dotes on their earl.”

“Or on their lunch trays,” the earl said. He quickly brought Hazlit up to date regarding Baron Stull’s allegations of a betrothal, and the need to secret Morgan with Their Graces.

“Good move,” Hazlit said. “Divide and conquer, so to speak. When I got your note, I did some poking around regarding Stull.”

“Oh?” The earl paused in the demolition of his chicken sandwich.

“He’s a bad actor,” Hazlit said. “Been making a nuisance of himself in the lower-class brothels, trying to procure young girls, and using thugs to spy on your house.”

My poor Anna.

Hazlit went on to advise the earl Stull had been identified as the purchaser of a large quantity of lamp oil, “right down to the grease stains on his cravat.” The tallish gentleman with him, however, had remained in the shadows. Hazlit further suggested there would be another attempt to kidnap Anna.

“Why won’t the baron just take his lumps and go home?”

Hazlit’s gaze turned thoughtful. “So far, the evidence for arson is all circumstantial. The charges won’t stick. He has a betrothal contract he thinks is valid, and he has Helmsley over a barrel, so to speak, financially. He wants Anna, and he wants her badly. You haven’t described him as a man who is bright enough to cut his losses and find some silly cow who will bear him children and indulge his peccadilloes.”

“And she would have to be a cow,” the earl muttered, grimacing. “I hate just sitting here, waiting for those idiots to make the next move.”

“And they hate just sitting there”—Hazlit reached for a piece of marzipan—“doing nothing. You should probably prepare yourself for some kind of legal maneuvering.”

“What kind of maneuvering?”

“Charges of kidnapping or alienation of affections, breach of promise against Anna, demands of marriage from Helmsley.”

“Demands that I marry her?” The earl scowled thunderously. “In God’s name why?”

“If Helmsley sees you are a fatter pigeon than Stull, he’ll rattle that sword.”

“Christ.” The earl got up and paced to the window. Anna and Dev were on the terrace, and she was smiling at something he’d said. Dev’s smile was flirtatious and a little wistful—charmingly so, damn the scoundrel.

“We can hope it’s a moot question,” Hazlit said, rising to his feet. “If Stull attempts to remove her from your property, then you bring the kidnapping charges, and that will be the end of it. Unless she’s married to the man, she can testify against him in any court in the land.”

“What was the extent of the old earl’s estate?” the earl asked, staring out the windows. Hazlit named a figure, a very large and impressive figure.

The earl continued to watch as Dev and Anna laughed their way through lunch. “If Helmsley has gambled that away, then he is guilty of misfeasance?”

“He most assuredly is,” Hazlit replied, coming to stand where he, too, could look out at the back terrace.

“So I need to prove Helmsley guilty of misfeasance,” the earl said, “and foil the baron’s attempts at kidnapping, and then Anna should be safe but penniless.”

“Not penniless. There is a trust fund that simply cannot be raided, not by God Almighty or the archangel Gabriel, as it is set aside for Anna’s exclusive use. Her grandmother has seen to it the money was wisely invested.”

“That is some good news.” The earl turned finally, as Dev was escorting Anna back into the house. “Do you know how much she has left?” Hazlit named another figure, one that would keep even a genteel lady comfortably for a very long time.

The earl turned, watching as Hazlit gathered up his effects. “If nothing else, I appreciate my family more, my siblings and my parents, for this glimpse into Anna’s circumstances.”

“You are a fortunate man,” Hazlit said. “In your family, in any case. I’m off to loiter away the afternoon at the Pig. I’ll report when something warrants your attention.”

“I will await your communication,” the earl said, seeing his guest to the door. “But patience is not my greatest strength.”

The earl had no sooner returned to the library than Dev appeared, Anna in tow.

“So who was that?” Dev asked.

“Who was who?”

“That handsome devil who eyed us out the window, the one who stood right beside you,” Dev shot back.

“Benjamin Hazlit. Our private investigator.” The earl turned his gaze to Anna. “He thinks you should marry me.”

“Let him marry you. I think I should join a convent.”

“Now that,” Dev said, “would be an inexcusable waste.”

“I quite agree.” The earl smiled thinly. “Hazlit says we wait now and expect either the baron to try to abduct you again or your brother to bring kidnapping charges.”

Anna sat down in a heap. “As a man cannot kidnap his wife, we have another brilliant reason to marry me to you.”

“Sound reasoning,” the earl said. “I gather you are not impressed.”

“I am not impressed.” Anna rose abruptly. “And what do you mean, Westhaven, by summoning a dressmaker here?”

“I meant you to have some dresses,” the earl said. “Dresses that are not gray or brown or brownish gray or grayish brown. I meant for you to enjoy, at least, the fashions available to you here in London and to spend some time in a pursuit common to ladies of good breeding. I meant to offer you diversion. What did you think I meant?”

“Oh.” Anna sat back down.

“I believe I will check on my horses and maybe take one out for a hack,” Dev said and headed for the door.

“In this heat?” the earl asked, incredulous. Dev was nothing if not solicitous of his horses.

“A very short hack,” Dev conceded over his shoulder, leaving Anna and the earl alone in the library.

Why are you ignoring me? Anna silently wailed. But she knew why: Westhaven was treating her as a guest, and not as a guest with whom he was in love.