“Pray, don’t trouble yourself. Just tell me where he is, and I will announce myself.” The dulcet voice paused. “Never mind. I hear swordplay, so I expect I need only follow the sounds.”

Marcus braced himself as light footsteps approached along the corridor.

The woman who appeared in the doorway a moment later was striking in her loveliness. Although her tall, elegant figure was gowned modestly in a blue crepe carriage dress, she possessed an unmistakable confidence, a graceful presence, that compelled attention.

A beauty of substance, Marcus realized at once, captivated by the sight.

Despite her unusual height and slenderness, she was curvaceous enough to entice even a man of his jaded experience. Her pale red-gold hair was swept up beneath a bonnet, with curling tendrils spilling around her finely-boned face. He was mainly aware, however, of the pair of keen gray eyes surveying the room, the most intriguing he had ever seen. They were the hue of silver smoke and held an intelligence and warmth that instantly stirred his senses.

Her jaw was set with determination, yet when she spied him, she suddenly faltered. A slight blush rose to her cheeks, as if she realized the impropriety of barging in on three noblemen engaged in a fencing match, all dressed in shirtsleeves and breeches and boots, with no cravats or waistcoats or coats.

Her eyes traveled from Marcus’s bare throat to his linen shirt that hung partway open, exposing his chest. Then abruptly, she jerked her gaze back up to his face, as if knowing she’d been caught in a forbidden scrutiny. When he locked glances with her, the color mounted in her cheeks.

Marcus found himself enchanted.

An instant later she appeared to gather her wits and forged ahead with her mission. “Which of you gentlemen is Lord Danvers?” she asked sweetly.

He took a polite step toward her. “At your service, Miss…?”

A vexed Hobbs answered behind her, “Miss Arabella Loring to see you, my lord.”

“I take it you are my eldest ward,” Marcus observed, concealing his amusement.

Her lovely mouth tightened the slightest measure, but then she tendered him a charming smile. “Regrettably, yes, I am your ward.”

“Hobbs, take Miss Loring’s pelisse and bonnet-”

“Thank you, my lord, but I don’t intend to stay long. I only desire a brief interview…in private, if I may.”

By now his two friends had paused in their fencing match and were watching his unexpected visitor with avid curiosity. When she advanced into the room, Marcus saw Drew raise a quizzical eyebrow, expressing surprise at her stunning appearance.

Marcus was highly surprised himself. Based on his solicitor’s comments, he had expected his eldest ward to be something of a shrew, but the reports of her beauty didn’t do her justice. She was, to put it simply, magnificent.

He gave Drew and Heath an apologetic glance. “Would you excuse us?”

Both noblemen crossed the salon with their rapiers, and Heath flashed Marcus a slow grin as he passed, along with one of his habitually baiting remarks. “We will await you in the hall should you need defending.”

He saw Arabella stiffen at the quip, but then she laughed, a low melodious sound that once more fired his senses. “I promise not to do him bodily harm.”

A pity, was Marcus’s first thought; he might have appreciated seeing what she could do to his body.

When they were alone, however, Marcus fixed his ward with a level gaze. He admired her boldness in coming here but knew he should make some show of disapproval if he intended to keep the upper hand with her. “My solicitors warned me about your determination, Miss Loring, but I didn’t expect you to flout propriety by visiting me at my home.”

She gave a shrug of her elegant shoulders. “You left me little choice, my lord, since you refused to reply to my letters. We have an important matter to discuss.”

“I agree, we need to settle the issue of your and your sisters’ futures.”

Her hesitation was followed by another proffered smile. “I am certain you are a man of reason, Lord Danvers…”

Marcus’s eyebrow shot up at her obvious attempt to charm him. She was undoubtedly accustomed to twisting men around her fingers, and he felt the effect down to his loins-an effect he instinctively resisted. “Oh, I am quite reasonable ordinarily.”

“Then you will understand our reluctance to acknowledge you as our guardian. I know you mean well, but we don’t require your assistance.”

“Certainly I mean well,” he said affably. “You and your sisters are now my responsibility.”

A flash of impatience showed in her gray eyes. “Which is patently absurd. We are all past the usual legal age of dependency. Most guardianships end at twenty-one. And we have no fortune to supervise, so there can be no financial justification for your management.”

“No,” Marcus concurred. “Your step-uncle left you without a penny to your names.”

Taking a deep breath, she made an obvious effort at civility. “We don’t desire your charity, my lord.”

“It is not charity, Miss Loring. It’s my legal obligation. You are three vulnerable females in need of a man’s protection.”

“We do not need protecting,” she replied emphatically.

“No?” Marcus gave her a penetrating look. “My solicitors are of the opinion that someone ought to take you and your sisters in hand.”

Her eyes kindled. “Is that so? Well, I hardly think you are qualified to ‘take us in hand,’ as you term it. You have no experience playing guardian.”

Marcus was pleased to be able to refute her statement. “On the contrary, I have a good deal of experience. I’ve been my sister’s guardian for the past ten years. She is twenty-one now, the same age as your youngest sister, Lilian-who is an unruly hoyden, I’m told.”

That made Arabella pause. “Perhaps that’s true, but Lily was at an impressionable age when our mother deserted us.”

“What of your sister Roslyn? By all reports, her uncommon beauty has made her the target for any number of rakes and scoundrels. I suspect she could benefit from a guardian’s protection.”

“Roslyn can take care of herself. We all can. We have since we were very young.”

“But what sort of future can you expect?” Marcus countered. “Your chances for good marriages were ruined when your parents chose to create their last blatant scandal.”

He saw the pain that claimed Arabella’s features for a fleeting moment before she forced another smile. “How well I know,” she murmured. “But even so, it is not your affair.”

Marcus shook his head. “I understand why you resent me, Miss Loring, a perfect stranger taking control of your home-”

“I don’t begrudge you the title or estate. What I do resent is your callous assumption that we wish to marry.”

That made him smile. “It is hardly callous to offer to find husbands for you. The usual path for young ladies of quality is marriage. You act as if I’ve gravely offended you.”

By now Arabella was clearly biting her tongue. “Forgive me if I gave you that impression, my lord. I know you don’t mean it as an insult-”

“You cannot be foolish enough to turn down five thousand pounds each.”

“Actually I can-” Suddenly she broke off and gave a rueful laugh. The husky, sultry sound raked his nerve endings with pleasure. “No, I won’t allow you to provoke me, my lord. I came here this morning determined to be pleasant.”

Marcus found himself staring at her ripe, tempting mouth before he shook himself. Arabella was speaking again, he realized.

“Perhaps you see our decision as inexplicable, Lord Danvers, but my sisters and I do not choose to marry.”

“Why not?” When she failed to answer, Marcus hazarded a guess. “I suppose it has to do with the example your parents set.”

“It does,” Arabella admitted grudgingly. “Our parents were determined to make each other’s lives miserable and fought at every opportunity. After the acrimony we witnessed growing up, is it any wonder we have an aversion to arranged marriages?”

Marcus felt more than a measure of sympathy. “I’m familiar with the sentiment. My own parents were scarcely any more congenial.”

At his softer tone, she searched his face for a long moment. But then she dragged her gaze away to focus on a pool of sunlight streaming through the nearest window. “In any case, we have no need to marry. We have sufficient incomes now to support ourselves.”

“Incomes?”

“If you had troubled yourself to read my letters, you would know about our academy.”

“I did read your letters.”

She glanced pointedly at him. “But you were not courteous enough to respond. You merely instructed your solicitors to deal with me.”

“Guilty as charged. But to my credit, I intended to call upon you next week.”

When he smiled winningly, Arabella drew a sharp breath. After a moment, she took another tack. “Come now, Lord Danvers. You don’t want responsibility for us, admit it.”

Marcus couldn’t bring himself to lie. “Very well, it’s true, I don’t want it.”

“Then why don’t you simply forget about us?”

“I doubt anyone who has ever met you,” Marcus said dryly, “could simply forget you, Miss Loring.” When she gave him a piercing look, he sighed. “You are my responsibility now, whether either of us likes it, and I won’t abandon my duty to see to your welfare. You’ll find I’m not such an ogre. And I’m wealthy enough to fund your dowries.”

That made her chin lift. “I tell you, we won’t accept your charity. Our academy allows us adequate financial independence.”

Admittedly, learning of her academy had roused Marcus’s curiosity. “I understand this academy of yours is a finishing school?”