Yet tonight, with his heroic rescue of her, his concern for her injuries even though he himself was hurt, he'd shown a side of himself she hadn't anticipated. And it was a side she did not want to see. She did not want to think of him as possessing any admirable qualities. He was already too physically attractive by far. If she were to like him-

She cut off the thought. Like him? Impossible. So he'd done something admirable. Even the worst sort of person normally had one good aspect to their character. Surely he did not possess any others. Why, look at how he'd known his way around those disreputable sections of London. Surely no decent gentleman would be familiar with such surroundings.

And the company he kept! This Michael Evers was a suspicious character if she'd ever seen one. A fighter by trade, one who obviously mingled with persons of low society. No telling what manner of nefarious business Lord Robert conducted with such a man. Yes, their friendship merely confirmed her belief that there was darkness lurking behind Lord Robert's casual, fun-loving demeanor. Indeed, Lady Gaddlestone's words on board the ship, concerning the transgression in Lord Robert's past, verified as much-a fact she'd momentarily forgotten. But just like walking about in the garden at night, it was a mistake she would not make again.


******

Robert stood in the oak-paneled foyer watching Michael lean his head out the front door and emit a trio of piercing whistles. Closing the door, he said, "A trusted man will be here within five minutes to take you home."

"Thank you, Michael. I owe you a boon."

"You damn well owe me several. And don't think I won't collect."

"Since I'm already in your debt, I might as well add to my tally. I've another favor to ask you." He paced across the parquet floor. "I'm very concerned about tonight's happenings. I shudder to think what might have happened to Mrs. Brown. I'm afraid I find it difficult to credit that someone in Austin 's household was targeted, yet I'm not entirely convinced that this abduction was random."

Michael crossed his arms over his broad chest and regarded him with an indecipherable expression. "So you think Mrs. Brown was who they wanted, then? Why?"

He shook his head, blowing out a frustrated breath. "I cannot say for certain. But there is something about her manner… I sense fear in her. And that she is hiding something. I felt it when I met her at the docks. Then, this afternoon, when any other lady would have been resting from her journey, she visited an antique shop."

"Seems innocent enough."

"Yes, yet she was decidedly evasive when I asked her about it. She claims she has business affairs to settle on behalf of her deceased husband, which is naturally none of my affair, but she was very secretive. Overly so." He raked his hands through his hair, wincing when he encountered the bump on the back of his head. "Of course, I might be imagining things. I'm so accustomed to Caroline and Elizabeth chattering away like magpies, I wouldn't recognize natural reticence and reserve if it slapped me in the face."

"When did her husband die?"

"Three years ago."

Michael cocked a single brow. "Yet she still wears mourning."

"Clearly she remains devoted to him." For some reason, those words tasted bitter in Robert's mouth.

"Yet that hasn't curbed your interest in her. Indeed, I suspect all this vagueness and secrecy surrounding her has piqued your interest."

He stopped pacing and fixed a glare on his friend. "I'm not interested in her. I am concerned about her. She is my responsibility until I deliver her, safe and sound, to Bradford Hall. You can imagine the hue and cry should I allow harm to befall her."

"Yes. I'm certain that is all there is to it. Now, what is this additional favor you wish to ask?"

"Just to keep your eyes and ears open. You've contacts all over town. If you should hear anything regarding tonight's abduction-"

"I'll inform you at once."

Three shrill whistles pierced the air. "Your transportation has arrived," Michael said. "Shall I carry the lovely Mrs. Brown out?"

Lovely? The thought of Michael's strong arms cradling the lovely Mrs. Brown tightened Robert's shoulders. He shot his friend a chilly look. "Thank you, no. I can handle her."

Amusement gleamed in Michael's eyes. "I'm not certain I agree, but it will be interesting to watch you try."


********

Allie spent the twenty-minute ride back to the Bradford town house looking out the carriage window in an attempt to ignore her companion.

She failed utterly.

She'd never been so completely aware of a person in her entire life. Even more vexing was the fact that he apparently had no trouble ignoring her. On the two occasions when she'd peeked at him from the corner of her eye, he'd seemed engrossed in his own thoughts, his brows pulled down in a frown, his sight set out his own window.

She could hear him breathing. Slow, steady breaths that she knew raised and lowered his chest. She could smell the faint scent of starch that still somehow clung to his clothing. Could feel the warmth emanating from his body. The memory of the sensation of his body pressed to hers filled her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut to block it out.

When they arrived at the town house, she nearly jumped for joy. Until he announced his intention of carrying her inside.

"You'll do nothing of the sort," she replied in her most prim tone. "What on earth would Elizabeth 's staff think?"

"They're all sleeping. But even if they weren't, you're not wearing shoes."

She opened her mouth to argue further, but he forestalled her by placing a single finger over her lips. "It's four a.m. The servants haven't arisen yet, and the members of the ton who live nearby aren't home yet from their round of parties. No one will see you."

With that, he slipped his arms beneath her, removed her from the carriage, then, holding her close against his chest, strode up the walkway.

She held herself rigid in his arms, refusing to admit for even a second that his touch was comforting. Pleasing. Exciting.

No, it was unwanted. Embarrassing. And the instant he released her, she silently swore that she would never allow him to touch her again.

Opening the door, he strode with her into the foyer, closing the door with a bump of his hip. Then he climbed the stairs, strode down the corridor, finally placing her gently on her feet outside her bedchamber door.

"Shall I ring for a maid to help you undress?" he asked.

Heavens, the man wasn't even out of breath, while she, who had been carried the entire way, could barely catch hers. "N-no. I can manage."

"In that case, I shall leave you. I'll stop round in the morning after I've visited the magistrate to report this evening's events." He looked down at her with a serious expression, and she instantly wished for him to smile or make a jest. His grin had made her heart flutter, but this unexpected, intense look nearly stuttered it to a halt.

Her mouth went dry. She tried to look away from his compelling stare, but could not.

"I'm glad you're all right," he said in husky whisper.

She licked her dry lips. "Yes. You, too."

His gaze dropped to her mouth and her breath caught. For one insane, breathless second she thought he meant to kiss her. She stood still as a statue, terrified he would. Terrified he wouldn't.

But then a lopsided grin eased across his face, breaking the spell. "Quite an adventure we shared. Most ladies I know prefer the opera or the shops. I must say, you proved to be most skilled with my knife." He waggled his fingers in front of her. "Not a single one missing."

Something warm spread through her. Warm and entirely unwelcome. She tried to stop it, but it came just the same. "I owe you my deepest gratitude."

He swept downward in a deep bow. "A pleasure, my lady." He stood and gazed down at her, an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. "This has undeniably been an evening I won't soon forget." His amusement faded, replaced by another intense look that froze her in place. "But you mustn't venture out again without an escort. There are dangerous men lurking all about."

Dear God, didn't she know it. And the most dangerous one of all stood right before her.

"Good night, Mrs. Brown."

"Good night." She entered her bedchamber, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Then, leaning back against the wooden surface, her eyes slid closed and she drew in a much-needed breath. In fact, the first easy breath she'd drawn in hours. He was gone. She should have been elated. Relieved. Surely she shouldn't be feeling… bereft.

Bereft? Nonsense. She was simply tired. She needed sleep. To say that today had been trying was an understatement of gargantuan proportions.

Opening her eyes, she walked toward her bed, anxious to remove her dirty gown and crawl between the sheets. Halfway across the room, she froze.

The wardrobe door stood ajar. She hadn't left it so. Had she?

Slowly her gaze panned the room. Her bed was neatly turned down, but the pillows appeared mussed. And there, on the dresser… hadn't she set her bottle of scent in the right hand corner? Yes, surely she had. But there it was, in the left corner.

Crossing to the wardrobe, then the dresser, she searched through her things. Nothing was missing. Had one of the servants moved the bottle and left the wardrobe ajar? Most likely… when they'd turned down the bed. She pressed her fingers to her temples where the remnants of a headache still lingered. Or perhaps she herself had been careless. Given her distracted state of mind… yes, that was certainly possible.