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  ‘Oh, no, we certainly wouldn’t want to malign any gentlemen,’ she said acidly. ‘Though I don’t see how lingering in the village helped you. I’m not known there, and while I’m sure there is gossip about the party, how could you be certain who was in attendance, unless you actually came to Dornton?’

  ‘Ah, but I did.’

  She blinked at him. ‘You visited and were not able to see me?’

  ‘I didn’t call at the front door.’ At her exasperated raise of eyebrows, he chuckled. ‘My time in the army taught me that it’s best not to blunder into enemy territory without first doing a thorough reconnaissance. Nor do you want to ride about in full uniform, rattling your sabre, so that every spy and sharpshooter on the enemy side notices you. No, such a delicate mission required…stealth.’

  ‘Stealth?’ she repeated. Her lips twitched, as if she were suppressing a smile. ‘What sort of “stealth”?’

  ‘I had no possible excuse for calling on you, nor do I move in the social circles that make me the sort of eligible parti Lady Fulton would invite to join her party. But, thanks to the army, I know how to mingle almost invisibly among regular folk. Dornton Manor is the largest estate in the area, which means Dornton Village supplies much of the goods consumed here and most of the labour to staff the house. Some rounds of ale at the local tap house, some conversations with the various merchants who provision Dornton Manor, a mention to one of them that, as a returned soldier currently out of work, I wouldn’t mind earning a few coins, and I had a commission to deliver food supplies. That fine fish you enjoyed last night and the pineapples for the compote for dessert?’ He tapped his chest. ‘Brought here from the village by Ben Tawny. Once at Dornton, it was easy enough, over a mug of ale in the servants’ hall, to learn who was valet to whom, and to flirt with the ladies’ maids and unearth a few details about each of their mistresses. Voilà—your size, colouring and love of sketching.’

  ‘In other words, you misrepresented yourself to the staff here and lied to the merchant,’ she said, her severe tone at variance with the half-smile curving her lips. ‘You are the most complete hand! How can I believe anything you say?’

  ‘I didn’t misrepresent!’ he protested. ‘I merely…created an illusion.’

  ‘You lied.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not true! I am a former soldier; I grew up poor enough to always be in favour of earning a few coins and many believe that being a Member of Parliament means I do no work. The staff here may have assumed I was a deliveryman because I brought out supplies, but I never told them I was.’

  ‘I’m sure neither the merchant nor the staff could have imagined you were a Member of Parliament, seeking personal information about Lady Fulton’s guests!’

  He shrugged. ‘If, after I presented “A” and “B”, they erroneously arrived at “C”, that’s not my fault.’

  She shook her head. ‘You are a dangerous man.’

  He grinned. ‘I certainly hope so. Are you any closer to believing me now?’

  ‘Yes…no. Oh, I don’t know! Your voice and manner are those of a gentleman, but your stories! If I didn’t recognise your name and your association with Oxford, I would think you a charlatan, travelling the countryside selling shares in bogus canal projects!’

  ‘The army trained me to gather intelligence; it’s surprisingly easy to get even strangers to talk about themselves, with a show of interest and a little prompting. And I did unearth the information I sought. Won’t you let me convey it to you?’

  ‘Very well. Although I make no promises about believing it!’

  ‘Denbry arrives today. Quinlen and Rossiter are already here. Even if you can’t bring yourself to believe the wager, be very careful around them. Watch how they treat you. I think you’ll discover they will be unusually flattering and attentive, quite ignoring the lures cast out by any other females present.’

  The mirth fled from her face, replaced by an expression of chagrin.

  ‘They’ve already begun their campaign to win you over, haven’t they?’ he guessed.

  ‘Their campaign to sweet-talk me?’ she said, recovering her composure enough to scoff. ‘I still don’t see how they thought they could—’

  She broke off abruptly, a flush slowly suffusing her face. ‘Ah, now, the rationale behind the wager makes sense,’ she said. ‘The men believe that, given my advanced age, unmarried state and lack of feminine charms, I would be so thankful for the attentions of an eligible bachelor, and so desperate to attach one, that with a little flattery I’d be willing to do anything they ask?’

  While Ben hesitated, loath to confirm that was exactly the description Denbry had given, she nodded. ‘Though it was kind of you to try to spare me that humiliating assessment, I would have understood sooner if you hadn’t.’

  ‘I couldn’t have said such a thing!’ he replied, touched as he watched her gather up the shreds of her dignity, and angered on her behalf at the insult. ‘For one, I would never tell a lady anything that unchivalrous, and secondly, I’ve seen with my own eyes it isn’t true. You are lovely, quick-witted, independent, and highly talented. If you’ve remained unmarried, it must have been through your own choice.’

  Though he meant every word, tears sheened her eyes. ‘I thought it was the other gentlemen who would try to sweet-talk me.’

  He shook his head. ‘The honest truth, as I see it. At least I know now that, even without my intervention, you wouldn’t have been easily duped.’

  She swiped the tears away with one impatient hand, that small act of bravery touching his heart. ‘Even understanding why they would pick me as the linchpin of the wager, I still have difficulty believing it. And for you to come warn me! I appreciate a sense of honour—but you’ve expended a great deal of effort on behalf of a woman you’ve never met, who has no claim to your protection whatsoever. Why would you care so much?’

  ‘I know what it is for a woman to be deceived—and to bear the cost of it for the rest of her life.’

  Sudden comprehension lit her eyes. ‘The Chilford Bastard,’ she said softly.

  ‘Exactly,’ he said, struggling to keep the bitterness from his tone.

  ‘If it’s true, I owe you an even more sincere apology—and my thanks.’

  He waved it away. ‘Just remain on your guard and watch the behaviour of the men I’ve mentioned. I doubt any of them would be lack-witted enough to try to make off with you against your will, for seduction would be necessary to ruin you and win the wager, to say nothing that attempted kidnapping carries severe penalties under law.’

  ‘I will certainly watch all of them.’

  Despite that assurance, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of a vague uneasiness. Then he hit upon something that would not only help allay that concern—but would give him an excuse him to see this unusual woman again.

  ‘Would you meet me here, about this same time tomorrow? If those gentlemen’s behaviour does seem suspiciously beguiling, you’ll know I was telling the truth. I can return to London, then, reassured that you believe me and are forewarned. Could you do that?’

  He watched her as she weighed his request, almost visibly ticking off the pros and cons in her head. ‘I suppose,’ she agreed.

  ‘Good. But when we meet tomorrow, bring your maid, even if Molly can’t abide accompanying you on your sketching excursions, since you either walk too fast, or dawdle for ever. Don’t go wandering by yourself in the gardens, either.’ He grinned at her. ‘You never know what sort of ruffian you might encounter.’

  Relieved, and far more eager to see Lady Alyssa again than he should be, Ben handed her back the box of pastels she’d set on the ground, and strode to the lane to reclaim his horse.

  He felt her speculative gaze on him as he rode away.

  *

  Lady Alyssa Lambornne certainly wasn’t what he’d expected when conscience had compelled him into this mission, he mused as he directed his horse towards the village. From Denbry’s description, he’d thought she’d be meek and mou
sy, the sort of shy, self-effacing creature who would never make a good impression on the Marriage Mart. As each year ticked by and she remained unwed, failing to achieve the only respectable occupation most women could hope for, she’d have become ever more anxious, apt to embrace even an unequal match to attain the respectability of marriage.

  Instead, he’d found her uncommonly intelligent, self-possessed and confident, with a truly exceptional talent for drawing. As he’d not told her, far from being a mousy, he’d found her alluringly attractive. With a fat dowry and that physical magnetism, how had she managed to remain unmarried?

  Perhaps because most men wanted a conventional and biddable wife, and were put off by the untamed aura she radiated?

  It certainly appealed to him. He let the image of her play across his mind…soft lips, full breasts and deliciously rounded hips. The alertness in her body and the feral intensity of her gaze hinted of a passionate nature, barely covered by a thin veneer of civility…

  Desire fired up again and he fought it. Despite her age and that illusion of restrained passion, Lady Alyssa was undoubtedly an innocent. The voice of self-preservation nattered in his ear, warning that he’d never engaged in the dangerous pastime of beguiling innocents and it was no time to start. That way led to the altar and he was neither interested, yet, in confining his interactions with females to a single specimen, nor had he attained the position he felt a woman he’d admire enough to marry would deserve in a husband.

  And if he were truly honest, having witnessed the misery and deprivation a blighted love had caused his mother, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to care that much about anyone.

  He should therefore be extremely circumspect in his dealings with Lady Alyssa. Though she herself appeared to have little interest in entangling a suitor, that unusual attitude was almost certainly not shared by her family, who would probably much prefer her to put down her sketch pad and embrace the role of wife and mother. At her age, even the natural son of a viscount, a man who’d not yet achieved a superior position in the world, might be acceptable to them.

  He had to laugh. Her family would have to be desperate indeed to consider a bastard son good enough for the daughter of an earl.

  But he could risk seeing her one more time, before prudence dictated he distance himself. To make sure she was taking proper steps to protect herself. And, he admitted, for the simple pleasure of talking with this most unusual lady.

  Anticipation filling him, he rode back towards the inn on the outskirts of the village where he’d engaged a room. He’d enjoy the fine fare at the Rose and Crown, while away the evening playing cards in the taproom and look forward tomorrow to meeting again the unexpectedly compelling Lady Alyssa Lambornne.

  Copyright © 2017 by Janet Justiss

  ISBN-13: 9781488021183

  Surrender to the Marquess

  Copyright © 2017 by Melanie Hilton

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