Her? "Good grief, Amanda, what are you doing here?" He pulled the sheet up over his bare chest. "Is something wrong? Where is Nanny? Is she injured?"

"Nanny Brown is with her sister below in the housekeeper's apartment, fast asleep, I have no doubt. The stairs were too much to ask of the dear old soul."

"Then you? Are you ill? Are you having a relapse?"

"Yes."

"The fever?"

"Yes. I feel very warm."

She sure as hell did not look warm in that sheer negligee she wore with nothing over it, nothing under it as far as he could tell by the fire's dying embers, his bedside lamp, and the candle she still held in trembling hands. He would have jumped out of bed to wrap her in his blankets, but he needed those blankets to preserve his modesty and her innocence. He fumbled at the foot of the bed with one hand, clutching the sheets with the other, to where Verity had insisted on sleeping-on top of his robe. "I'll go fetch Nanny. She'd know which medicine you ought to take, and how much."

"That is not what I need."

His hand paused over the sleeping dog. "Uh, what is it that you do need, then?"

"I… I need you to hold me."

Damn. "Here, I'll give you my dog." He pushed Verity to her feet, mumbling about what a poor watchdog she was anyway. "That's what you said you wanted before."

"Is that too much to ask? You did not mind this afternoon."

Mind? What mind? He blinked, as if that would change the image in his head, the scent of her, the feel of her body, the silkiness of her curls, and the warmth of her lips. Oh, lord. "You should not be here, saying such things!"

"Why not? I have nothing to lose, do I? Why should I not take some comfort where I can, while I can? I am not some foolish heroine in a dreadful novel, wanting to experience the marriage act before she succumbs to some mysterious evil. I admit I am somewhat curious, but that is no reason to betray a lifetime's teachings. Nor am I here to show my gratitude, although I am more than indebted to you. I… I liked your kisses. I could forget everything else, in your arms."

"You do not understand. A proper lady-"

She held up one slender arm, bare to the shoulder but for one narrow ribbon of a strap. "Do not say it. You and I both know my reputation will never recover. I do not consider myself a lady anymore, and I am glad of the freedom."

"But I am a gentleman, despite the gossip." He tapped his chest. "I am a gentleman here, where it matters." He tapped his head. "And here. I could not accept what I think you are offering without making an honorable offer in return."

She did not deny her intentions, instead making them clear by fingering the diamond necklace at her throat. No woman wore her finest jewels to sleep alone. She looked like a figure from an erotic dream to him, and he could feel his body straining toward her. "It is against all notions of decency."

"Pooh, no one will know."

"I will."

"But if I hang, you will not need to sacrifice your freedom for me."

"You will not hang!"

She stared at her toes, which he noticed were bare, tiny pink buds peeking from under the hem of thin white lace. "Would it be so terrible to ask me, then? I would never hold you to an engagement unless there were a child."

A child? Another monster like himself? He took a deep breath, possibly his first since she'd entered the room. Yes, that was why he felt so light-headed-lack of air. "I would be the happiest of men to call you wife, if I had not sworn to remain a bachelor."

"You do not like women?"

"Of course I do. You must have noticed this afternoon." If she looked closely at the sheets, she could see that he liked her very well tonight, too.

She nervously twisted the diamonds at her throat. "Then it must be your mother. Did she disappoint you so much that you will never trust another female?"

"I do not speak of my feelings toward Lady Royce. I have none, in fact. Feelings, that is."

"She will be here soon, I understand."

And not a moment too soon for his comfort and his conscience. But Amanda was going on: "So there is only tonight. I am not asking for your hand or your heart, only one night of joy."

He imagined her in the diamonds and nothing else and was almost ready to hold the blankets up, offering her a place in his bed. Joy? He'd show her heaven, with rainbows and angels dancing. Except the diamonds were a gift from her mother. "Your family would be horrified."

"More so than knowing I was in prison? More than having my name on everyone's lips as a murderess and a soiled dove? I think, I pray, my mother would like knowing I found a bit of pleasure."

A bit? He was not going to be satisfied with a kiss and a cuddle, oh no. His body was warning him that once he took Amanda into his arms, he was never going to let her go. And that was the trouble. "You are asking me to forego my honor."

"You have asked me not to run away, so I could be forfeiting my very life to your honor. Which is more important?" She had set her candle down and now she came closer to his bedside. She stroked the dog, who licked Amanda's hand and closed her eyes.

Rex tried to swallow but his throat was as dry as Verity's bowl after dinner. "Someone might come."

"Who? Your valet?"

"He is very protective. My father sent him to look after me."

"It is the middle of the night. Surely Murchison knows you are old enough to sleep alone. You have a watchdog."

Who was starting to snore again. "My, my cousin might come."

"I heard him snoring. Louder than Nanny, much louder than Verity."

And Rex knew that Daniel was not likely to wake up for two days, not after tonight.

She touched the sheet, as if to raise it.

He hung on to the top. "I have nothing on under the covers."

"I have nothing on under my nightgown."

"I noticed." Hell, he could barely take his eyes off her, now that she was close enough for him to see the peaks of her breasts, the shadow between her legs. The diamonds glittered in the firelight, sending silver sparks to her brown eyes. The sparks reached his very soul and set it on fire. Only she could douse those flames. He knew that now.

She was his. He'd rescued her; he'd kept her alive. She was not going to become the docile wife of some nameless blighter who married her for the price of her jewels, who'd fill her belly with a dozen sniveling brats.

Children. He pulled the sheets higher, as far as they would reach with Verity's weight on them. "I cannot. I will not father a child."

"You do not like children?" Disappointment resounded in her words. "I always wished for a boy and a girl."

"I like children well enough, I suppose. But not mine."

"Why?"

It was the middle of the night, a nearly naked woman was tempting him nearly past endurance, and she wanted to dissect his life principles? "It is a private matter."

She huffed. "You asked me not to run away, to trust you with my very life. Yet you cannot explain something, so important as not wishing children?"

She was right, and she was sitting on the edge of his bed now, stroking his sleeping dog. Long, strong strokes, back and forth, back and forth. Heaven help him.

Thinking that his silence had to do with some dark secret, she asked, "Who would I tell?"

Verity rolled over to have her stomach rubbed. His tongue went numb. "It's hard"-and it wasn't the only thing that was-"to explain. Just accept that there is an… unpleasant trait running through the males of my family."

"Insanity?" She stood up, as if to leap for safety if he turned dangerous. Verity whimpered at the loss of her attention. "I have heard of that occurring in certain bloodlines. Your father is not locked up somewhere, is he? That's not why he and your mother live separately, is it, and he never comes to Town?"

"Lud, no. My father has bad lungs, but his mental facilities are as sharp as ever, thank goodness, although some might consider him eccentric."

"Ah, it is more like weak chins, then? But I see no similarities between you and your cousin, other than your coloring."

"Daniel was not supposed to be affected, coming through the female line, my father's sister, but he is, although not as severely."

Her brows were puckered and her tongue flicked across her lips as she thought. He could tell she was running an inventory list through her mind. Gads, what was she imagining, some hideous deformity? He already had scars and wounds. "It is not exactly visible, like a birthmark or baldness."

"Ah, then it is a disease that strikes the men in your family at some stage in their lives?"

"Yes… that is, no. Please, just believe that I do not wish to bring forth a child who would be so afflicted."

"What of the earldom? I thought that was drummed into a little lordling's head, that his sole job in life was to beget the next peer."

"I cannot do that."

Her eyes narrowed in speculation. "Cannot, or will not?"

Thunderation, now she was imagining him impotent! "I will not father a child and that is that!"

She accepted his adamance, for now. "Very well. There are ways, I have heard…"

Rex could see the blush start at her chest and rise to her cheeks. She was willing to initiate an affair, the little peagoose, but she could not discuss the earthier aspects. And she thought she was no longer a lady? "I do not have such protection handy. I could withdraw, but that is no guarantee."

She pounded her fist on the mattress, to Verity's displeasure. "Life has no guarantee! Can you not understand? I might not live long enough to bear a child! And to conceive in one night? My mother had one child in all her years of marriage. But now I see what it is. You are making excuses, one after the other. You do not want me. Tell me, is it another woman, so I shall merely be mortified, not shattered?"