"My brother will be relieved to hear it," she said.

"But not you?" Montwyn asked.

"I guard my own reputation, Lord Montwyn."

"And she does a fine job of it, too," Perry added.

"But this is London, Lady Clarissa," Montwyn said, his eyes twinkling, "and you are inexperienced."

"Rather say I am new to London, sir. I am not inexperienced."

"No?" He smiled. "But that is how I knew you were new to town. Your naivete lights you like a candle."

Clarissa took a breath and felt herself grow still at the raw sting of his insult. This man was different, and it was not London that made him so. His pride lit him like a bonfire, and while the light drew the eye, the heat of him was oppressive.

"I am certain you are mistaken. My education has been most complete."

"Yet how else to explain my knowing that you were new to town?"

"Perhaps"-she smiled-"because you visit every house that will open its door to you. You were invited to Lord and Lady Morland's tonight, were you not? I am certain that Lady Morland is too refined to have anyone thrown out. She is a most welcoming hostess."

"Well done, Clarissa," Perry chimed. "Not many can stand against my sister in verbal warfare, Lord Montwyn. I commend you for your bravery."

"Is that what this is?" Montwyn asked calmly, studying her boldly.

Most aggressive, even for an Englishman. Not appealing at all, but… compelling. A most disturbing thought-she would not tolerate it or him.

"Hardly," Clarissa said, affecting boredom with Lord Montwyn and his superiority. "I am looking for a husband tonight. Tomorrow I shall shop for books and a new pair of boots."

"A shopping trip to London," Montwyn summarized.

"Precisely," Clarissa said, looking him in the eye, communicating her disdain.

"Really, Clarissa," Perry sputtered. "I apologize, Lord Montwyn, for my sister's-"

"Unnecessary," Montwyn cut in. "I am here for the same reason. I need a wife."

He looked down at her while he said it, and she felt the weight of his words and his intent hit her like a stone. He was not put off. He should have been. He was not the sort of man she was looking for, though her eyes continued to look.

Masculine power emanated from him with every breath, confusing her purpose. She searched for an acceptable husband-Montwyn commanded a response from her heart that was completely unacceptable.

"Then you'd best circulate and find one," Clarissa said sharply.

"I am not an impulsive shopper. I like to take my time over my selections," Montwyn said, holding her eyes.

"How odd," Clarissa spat. "I can tell at a glance if a smock or even the merest bit of embroidered linen will suit. I know my own tastes and inclinations. Good evening, sir," she said, and turned to go, her arm resting on Perry's. Call it not a rout, but a wise retreat; she had to put distance between herself and Montwyn.

"But I am shopping for more than fripperies," Montwyn said to her retreating back. "Or would you disagree?"

Clarissa turned and said over her shoulder, "Only you can know your own intent."

"I would share it with a willing ear," Montwyn said with a smile.

"Again I say circulate, sir, to find what you seek."

Beau, Lord Montwyn, watched her walk away, her bearing regal, her head proud and high, the long line of her torso as graceful as a sapling in the wood.

"No need, miss," he said softly to himself, "for I've found what I came to London to find."

Chapter Two

It was a complete waste of time," Clarissa said to Albert the next morning while helping herself to a cup of tea and a scone.

Albert sat up straighter in his chair and tugged at his waistcoat. "Kindly explain yourself, Clarissa. Do you mean to tell me that Lord and Lady Morland invited only women to their party last night?"

"They may as well have," Clarissa said over her cup, "if what I saw last night represents the best England has to offer. I will not marry either a runt or a sweaty, odorous beast to fulfill my family obligation, and if you were a loving brother you would not ask it of me."

"Since Henry Wakefield, Lord of Montwyn, is neither a runt nor odorous," Perry said, coming into the room, "I would hazard that you have not made mention of your meeting with him."

"No, I have not. Let me add him to the list: he is a boor."

"You seemed to be enjoying your conversation with him last night," Perry said. "At least, I was. Most entertaining."

Most entertaining, indeed. At first, yes, she had thought so, but then his countenance had seemed to her to be so proud, so overbearing. Such a man, no matter his fine form, would not do. He was a bear of a man who would crush her for his own amusement; or perhaps it was better said that he would try to, for she would not be cowed so easily by mere rudeness, no matter the level of his offenses. Or attraction. He had been attracted to her, that much was obvious, and perhaps she could even find something admirable in his boldness. She had not frightened him; he had made that plain enough. But he was not the sort of man she had in mind, and it was her mind that would decide her future, not a pair of shining green eyes.

"You at least were entertained," she said to Perry. "I was not. He will not do."

"How is it that an earl will not do?" Albert asked, rising from his chair.

"Oh, he would do," Perry chuckled, "if Clarissa had not prodded him unmercifully. She baited the man and then ran from him when he growled back."

"I did not run. He did not growl," she snapped.

"Good heavens, Clarissa, do not tell me that you have made a spectacle of yourself in London society," Albert said sternly. "You will not take that way out of your proper duty to marry and marry well. A union with Montwyn would be most advantageous to this family."

"And would it be advantageous to me, Albert?" she asked. "Besides, we would not suit. His temper is uncertain."

"Oh, I would say his temper is most certain, most predictable," Perry said with a smile.

"Oh, Perry, do keep your remarks to yourself!" Clarissa said.

"Do not say that you antagonized Lord Montwyn," Lindley said, coming into the room.

"I say no such thing," Clarissa said.

"'Twas I who said it." Perry grinned.

"Couldn't you have been civil to the man?" Lindley grumbled, fetching himself a plate.

"I was more than civil."

"She was," Perry agreed. "She was blatantly entertaining. At least, I was entertained."

"And Montwyn? Was he?" Lindley asked.

"I thought he was, when she said she was in town shopping for a husband," Perry volunteered.

Albert and Lindley were silent, their faces as dark as gloom. Dalton, having just come in, laughed. Clarissa was not grateful for it.

"Well done, Clarissa," Dalton said. "If a man can't stand a little ribbing, he'll make a sorry husband."

"I shall remind you of that sentiment when you are shopping for a bride," Lindley said, his dark eyes glowering at Dalton.

"Do you think you can remember it for that long?" Dalton smiled sharply at Lindley. Dalton would not be pushed into marriage, no matter what Albert threatened.

"Enough," Albert said. "It's past now, and nothing to be done but put a brave face on it. And try to make amends in your next encounter," he said, looking censoriously at Clarissa.

"Russell!" she said to her brother as he came in, refusing to answer Albert and all the rest. The best path for her at the moment lay in a controlled retreat. There seemed to be too much of that in her life of late, and Montwyn was ever the cause. "Will you please accompany me to Lackington's? I am book shopping today."

"Of course, Clarissa," he said agreeably. She knew beyond a doubt that he had been out all night and had just had time to change out of his evening wear; Russell would not want to stay and risk his own encounter with Albert's censure.

At her departure, the room broke up quickly, for none cared to stay and face his own comeuppance with Albert. If he had been a man of milder and softer temperament, he might have evoked pity, but he did not. He had been the head of the family-a family that consisted of nine younger brothers and Clarissa-for ten years. It was a burden he was accustomed to, one that he had been trained for all his life. If only his siblings would take to their traces as he had taken to his.

Jane entered as he stood in silent contemplation, his dark eyes studying the view of the garden through the glass. All was cold and gray and wet, yet the sundial gave the garden form and weight when all was leafless and bare. He had once enjoyed planning gardens, before he had been required to oversee the lives of his brothers. And Clarissa. Wild, impetuous Clarissa.

"Tell me your thoughts, Jane," he said softly, his face still to the glass. "What of Montwyn?"

Jane shrugged, and he saw the faint reflection of the gesture in the wavering glass. "You are worried. You need not be."

"You heard what she said to him?"

"No," Jane said cautiously. "But I did observe them from my place near the fire, and the air between them did not seem hostile."

"Not hostile? When she blatantly told him that she was shopping for a husband?"


Jane swallowed before she answered. "Lord Montwyn seems a capable, forthright man. I do not think such bantering will dissuade him."

"Dissuade him?" Albert turned to her. "Was he that interested, and so soon?"

"Let me not misspeak," she said softly. "I think him a man of firmness, of maturity. I think that if Lord Montwyn is at all interested in Clarissa, a few thoughtless words from her will not subdue that interest."

"You have always been observant," he said. "Let us hope you are right. I would not have her season so quickly spoiled."