How could she possibly have let the stranger kiss her, even if he was the most handsome, confident, and powerful of men?Was that how Lucy had begun, melting in a warm embrace, only to end up carrying a child?
“I assure you, Miss—?”
“Don’t tell him who you are, Lucy!”Tom warned.
It was the wrong thing to say to Lucy, of course.She immediately lifted her head and tossed her auburn curls in rebellion.
“And why not?I am proud of my family name.I, for one, have nothing to hide from this ruffian!When he finds out whom he is dealing with, he will take himself off soon enough.”
Kate eyed Lucy with some alarm, dismayed by her arrogant claims.Although the stranger did not look like a gossip, what if he carried the tale of his imprisonment here back to London?Their ruination would be complete.
“Lucy, be a dear, and return the tray to the kitchen, will you?I’ll take care of this,” Kate said, her casual tone belied by the look she sent her sister.
Although Lucy obviously wanted to refuse the request and remain right where she was, she contented herself with glaring at their guest.“I shall leave it to you to put him in his proper place!”she declared, before turning on her heel and regally exiting the room.
“Now, Mr.Wescott, or whoever you may be—” Tom began.
“Is that the sister you spoke of, the one with child?”the stranger asked, inclining his head toward the door through which Lucy had departed.
Kate felt her cheeks bloom again, but she held her head high.“Yes.”
“Well, it seems that we have quite a coil to unravel,” he said, gazing at her from under heavy-lidded eyes.Bedroom eyes, Kate reflected, annoyed at the turn of her thoughts.
He had propped one knee up and appeared thoroughly at home in her father’s bed, his dark hair tousled, his chest bare.Suddenly, Kate wished he would cover himself, if only so her gaze would not continually drift to that beautiful expanse.
“What coil?What are you talking about, man?”Tom asked.
Her mouth tightening into a determined line, Kate walked to a dresser and pulled open a drawer, rummaging for one of her father’s old nightshirts.Most of his clothes had been commandeered for their own wardrobes, but such intimate wear remained intact.
Grabbing one, she turned and tossed it to her guest.“There.You can put that on.”
“He won’t be needing your Papa’s underthings!He ain’t staying long enough.”Tom protested.“I’ll take him back to London today, whoever he is.”
“No, you won’t, Tom.He’s still shaky from loss of blood,” Kate said, trying not to remember just how solid the man had seemed when she was pressed up against his muscular form.
“And what if he gets a fever?”she asked.Although it had not been her intention, she had shot this man.And since she was responsible for his injury, she felt obliged to care for him until he could get up and around without bleeding anew.
“I am not going anywhere,” the man said in the kind of voice that demanded attention.
Both Kate and Tom turned to stare at him.His expression was polite, but she sensed an indomitable will behind it.Even reclining amid the pillows, he held himself just a little aloof, as if born to command, and she felt a growing unease at the enormity of her mistake.She could no more handle this man than she could a charging beast.
“And why not?”Tom demanded angrily.
“Because I intend to find out just who has been using my name to seduce young women.”
“What?What the devil do you mean?What’s he talking about, Katie?”Tom asked.
Kate’s dismay grew as she began to suspect the truth, but she said nothing, hoping against hope that she was wrong.
“I have never seen your sister before in my life,” the stranger explained dryly.“And the last time I checked, I was the only Marquess of Wroth.”
Grayson eyed the duo calmly, while they stared at him as if he had sprouted two heads.Although his name was not always a welcome one, he could never recall receiving quite this sort of reception.It was interesting, to say the least.
Apparently unconvinced of his parentage, the old man, called Tom, was still inclined to argue.“Here, now, Lucy says—”
Grayson halted him with a steely look.“I am sure that Miss Lucy is telling what she believes is the truth.But since I am Wroth and I have not seduced her, it stands to reason that someone has been using my name, although I am at a loss as to who would be so imprudent.”
The fellow called Tom gaped, scratching his bristly chin in confusion, but the dark-haired girl, obviously more intelligent, nodded.It was easy to see that she was in charge, for both Lucy and Tom took orders from her in the manner of those of long habit.
