Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Copyright

God, Jed thought, but she was so beautiful,

with her dark hair tumbling wildly down her back and curling about her face. He reached up to gently wipe the tear away with the back of his forefinger. “It’s all right to cry,” he told her softly.

Victoria shook her head stubbornly. “No, it isn’t. I haven’t cried since the day my parents were buried. Tears are not to be shed for little things.”

He could only stare down at her, his heart slamming against his chest in reaction to the pain revealed by her statement. “You are so brave. So beautiful,” he whispered.

She caught her breath, those gray eyes growing dark with an emotion he did not want to acknowledge, even as he felt an answering reaction stir in himself.

He could no longer pretend to deny the desire she felt for him. That he felt for her…

Dear Reader,

The heroine in Catherine Archer’s Lady Thorn, Victoria Thorn, is a descendant of the characters from Catherine’s first book for Harlequin, Rose Among Thorns. It’s the story of a Victorian heiress who is being pressured to find a suitable husband. Instead, she falls in love with a sea captain who promises her protection in exchange for her help in locating his son. Don’t miss this touching story from this gifted author whose tale we hope you’ll find, as Affaire de Coeur did, “impossible to put down.”

Josh Colter and Alexandria Gibson discover they are both looking for the same man in Susan Amarillas’s new Western, Wyoming Renegade. Susan’s last two books have won her 5 ratings from Affaire de Coeur, and fans have been eagerly awaiting this tale of two people who must choose between family, and love and honor.

USA Today bestselling and multiaward-winning author Ruth Langan’s new series, THE JEWELS OF TEXAS, moves into full swing with this month’s Jade, the story of a smalltown preacher who surrenders his soul to the town madam. And in Kate Kingsley’s new Western, The Scout’s Bride, a determined young widow decides to accept the help of a rugged army scout who has made himself her unwanted protector.

Whatever your taste in reading, we hope you’ll keep an eye out for all four titles wherever Harlequin Historicals are sold.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to: Harlequin Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Lady Thorn
Catherine Archer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CATHERINE ARCHER

has been hooked on historical romance since reading Jane Eyre at the age of twelve. She has an avid interest in history, particularly the medieval period. A homemaker and mother, Catherine lives with her husband, three children and dog in Alberta, Canada, where the long winters give this American transplant plenty of time to write.

This book is dedicated to my brothers, Russell, Michael and David, who are heroes in the rough, as most interesting heroes are.

I must thank my daughter Katie for her inspiration for Jedidiah McBride. She loved him before I did.

Lastly I wish to thank Dave at the Soft Shoppe, for the help he has given me with my PC, and all things related.

Chapter One

England, 1855

Jedidiah McBride traveled slowly over the road from Westacre. He held the reins firmly, feeling their smooth leather against his palm, as he tried not to acknowledge the unaccustomed feelings of despondency that were prodding at the back of his mind, ready to overtake him.

Not since he was a boy had Jed allowed anything to affect him this much. Not since his mother’s death, some few months after Nina’s desertion. It had been an untimely death that he knew had been hastened by Nina and her high-and-mighty family’s cruel treatment of him.

An owl hooted in the trees to his right, and Jed shifted around in his saddle, his sea-green eyes searching the inky darkness for a glimpse of the night bird that sounded so alone. As alone as he would feel if he allowed himself that luxury, which he would not.

Nothing stirred in the cluster of young oaks that grew behind the hedge of hawthorn. Yet he had no doubt that the creature was there, among the dense growth of late spring, watching him. If he was capable of reason, would he think Jed was a fool to have come all this way from America with only the content of one vague and confused letter to go on? Then, even as Jed watched, he saw the dark spread of the owl’s wings as it swooped from the highest treetop, across the greening open field, in search of small prey.

If only his own life were so simple. He would like to be able to swoop down on Nina, take what was his and go. But even though twelve years had passed since the last time he’d seen her, she could still manipulate him by saying only what she wanted him to know and nothing more.

His gaze flicked across the sky, where the half-moon was partially obscured by gauzy iron clouds. Find her he would, no matter what the cost. He must succeed in what he had come to England to do. There was no reasonable alternative.

Over the course of the past twelve years, he had faced worse odds and won. Jed had started his nautical career as a cabin boy at the age of seventeen. He was now co-owner of a thriving shipbuilding firm, master of his own ship, and master of his own life.

Or so he had thought until he received the letter from Nina some two months ago. It was then that he had learned she’d left Bar Harbor with his unborn child inside her. Pain sliced through him, and his knees gripped the horse more tightly, causing it to prance beneath him. Deliberately, calling on the strength and determination that had sustained him all these years, he forced himself to relax those muscles and the ones in his shoulders and prodded the animal on.

He would find Nina, and his son. Nothing, not even her cruel theft of the boy’s childhood, would prevent him being a better father than his had been to him.

The night closed in around him as his mind centered on that one most important need, using it to block out any thought of possible failure. Again he went over the minimal clues he had to help him locate her. He knew that Nina’s name was now Fairfield and that she had borne him a son. Little else had been said, other than that she was finally telling him about the child out of a need to salve her own conscience. It didn’t even enter his mind that the claim might be false. Some inner sense, the same one that forewarned him of a squall before it came, told him she was telling the truth.

Jed’s lips tightened. How very like Nina to say she was telling him in order to salve her conscience. She had always acted to preserve her own pretty hide. His chest tightened as he remembered the ache her rejection had brought. It hurt all the more because of the fact that he had actually believed she loved him. Why else would a girl from one of the foremost families in Maine show an interest in him? He’d lived in a hovel not far from the docks. After his father left them, he and his mother had subsisted on the meager income she earned from doing laundry and mending, and whatever he might bring in from laboring on the local fishing boats.

Only fate could have brought Jed into contact with the fragile and darkly lovely Nina. One day when the housekeeper had fallen ill, Nina had gone to the market with her maid. The handle of her basket had broken, and Jed had stopped to help her retrieve her purchases. Their hands had inadvertently brushed. Their eyes met. After that, there had been no holding back the force of their youthful desire. He’d actually believed she loved him, until there came a time when he went to their meeting place night after night, with no sign of Nina. In desperation, he had finally gone to her home. The harried housekeeper had given him an impatient look and informed him that Miss Nina had been married the previous day and was at that moment making ready to board a ship that would take her to the estates of her husband, Squire Fairfield, in England. So shocked had he been that Jed could only back down the steps in disbelief when she closed the door in his face. Clearly Nina had cared nothing for him, for never had she even hinted at any of this. In a short time, his devastation had turned to rage, and he’d vowed never again to allow himself to look to any woman for anything other than physical release, and never to one of Nina’s social class. They cared for nothing beyond their own comfort and position.

His devastation had come to the point of near madness when his mother died, some few weeks later. That had been when he signed on as cabin boy for a voyage that was to take him from Bar Harbor and the pain of his life.

During the ensuing years, he’d learned much about the world, including the fact that the only person he needed was himself. It was a lesson he would not soon forget.

Yet Jed knew that in this instance there was one great obstacle in his path, despite his self-reliance and determination to find his son. He had no access to the very society he scorned. His confidence in himself and his abilities would not gain him entry to the salons and morning rooms of London society. And that was where he must certainly begin his quest. But how?

He pushed aside this core of doubt, prodding his horse to a faster pace. He had no intention of returning to his ship at Westacre, where its cargo of cotton was being unloaded, without his son. He’d not told his first mate, David Orsby, the details of his quest, but he had informed him that he might be gone for some time. David had shrugged, saying he would do whatever Jed asked of him, and that the crew would wait, because they were well paid.

Jed turned his attention to the road ahead. He had just rounded a sharp bend when he took note of the vague shape of a coach up ahead. He shifted his mount to the far side of the lane, which was wide enough for both his horse and the vehicle. As the clouds passed away from the moon, casting more light down upon the scene, he paused.

The halted carriage swayed wildly ahead of him, and the four matched black horses danced in the harness. Atop the conveyance, two men struggled violently. Surely one of them must be the driver, Jed thought as he dug his heels into the bay’s flanks and it started forward. At that moment, from inside the carriage, he heard the sound of a woman’s scream.

Jed rose in the saddle and slapped the reins against the horse’s rump. His urgency was immediately transferred to his mount, for it reared up and ahead at the same time. They were near to traveling at a gallop when he drew the horse alongside the swaying coach and pulled himself up onto the platform.

For a moment, he hesitated, as he studied the grappling men. Then one of them cried out, “Please, help me, sir!” That was all Jed needed to help him decide which was defender and which attacker. The taller of the two turned, as if meaning to jump from the vehicle, just as the other finished calling out to Jed. But he had acted too slowly to protect himself, for Jed grabbed him by the back of his coat and spun him fully around. The man swung wildly, and Jed ducked. He countered the blow with one of his own and sent the thug reeling over the side of the coach.

The other man, whom Jed was now certain was the coachman, flinched as another scream sounded from inside the carriage. He looked to Jed with eyes rounded in panic. “We must help my lady.”

Jed pointed to the fallen man, who lay still upon the ground. “Watch him. I will see to her.”

Without waiting to see if his order was obeyed, Jed leapt over the side of the vehicle and reached for the elaborately emblazoned door. As the woman cried out again, he reached into the belt of his breeches and withdrew his pistol. Then he was inside.

A man’s voice addressed him immediately. “Blazes, Lloyd, let’s be off, shall we?”

Both tone and inflection proclaimed this man a member of the upper class. At that moment, Jed had little time to wonder why a gentleman would be accosting a woman in her coach. He took in the fact that this man was so busy wrestling with the pile of blue silk skirts and other female apparel he held that he had not even bothered to see who he was addressing. Jed could only assume there was a woman beneath all that tangle. He was assured that this was true when an arm appeared from the mass, and her assailant grunted as a blow landed on the side of his head.

With a grunt of irritation, the man renewed his efforts to restrain her, nudging her hooped skirts so far forward that he unwittingly exposed a tantalizing section of female anatomy. The decidedly shapely bottom, encased in soft white bloomers, briefly caught and held Jed’s undivided attention. The fine fabric stretched taut as the muscles in the unknown woman’s buttocks flexed in her efforts to free herself.

Her attacker’s gasp of rage, as the woman’s heel connected with his chin, brought Jed to his senses. What kind of rescuer was he, to be leering at the poor woman’s backside? What would his mother say, especially when it was she who had taught him to offer help to those in need?

At that moment, the man cried out again in exasperation. “I say, Lloyd, can you hear me? What is the hold up?”

Self-directed amusement colored Jed’s voice as he spoke. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Lloyd is…well… resting.”

The man swung around, and his expression was astonished when he saw Jed. “What have you done with Lloyd?” The look in his light gray gaze changed from anxiety to haughtiness as he took in the sea captain’s attire. His expression said quite plainly that Jed’s snug black pants, white open-necked shirt and black overcoat proclaimed him to be other than a gentleman. Which Jed understood would certainly mark him an inferior in this fool’s opinion. He was dressed in a tight-fitting cutaway coat, brown trousers and a multihued brocade vest.

The dapper fellow frowned again as his eyes came to rest on the pistol in Jed’s hand. “Now see here, my good man. Just be on your way, and I will forget that you interfered in something that was not your concern.” His scowl deepened. “That is, if you have not been so foolish as to kill my friend.”

Jed merely smiled. This man was in for quite a surprise if he thought he could intimidate Jed with his superior manner. “I do not know, nor do I care, if your friend lives. And forgive me—” he glanced down at the pistol “—if I point out that, although I’m sure you believe you are being quite magnanimous in regards to myself, you are really in no position to do so.”

The blond man looked down his narrow nose, even as he renewed his grip on the woman, who had ceased to struggle when Jed spoke. She jerked away in response, and he spoke to Jed with irritation as he tried to draw her closer to him. “How dare you! Obviously no one has taught you how to treat your betters. I am a member of the English peerage, sir!”

Jed simply shrugged, raising the pistol and bringing the attacker’s attention fully to himself. “I think now that you will release this lady.”

With obvious reluctance, the man loosened his hold on her. Immediately she rolled away, pressing her back against the opposite door of the coach even as she raised her head to look at them.

As her face became visible beneath the rim of her slightly askew beribboned blue bonnet, time seemed to halt. Jed found himself forgetting for one heart-stopping moment that he was holding a pistol on a member of the British peerage in a strange coach in the middle of the night. He could think of nothing besides the strange, brave beauty of the woman before him.

Because it wasn’t just that she was beautiful that gave him pause. Though there was no denying that she was, with her aquiline features and haughty expression. It was the pure defiance in her gray eyes, the look of outrage and regal condemnation she turned upon the man who had dared accost her. Not even a hint of fear was evidenced in those heavily lashed eyes.

She spoke with open contempt, drawing Jed’s gaze to her mouth. And in its lushness he glimpsed an unexpected hint of womanly softness that stirred him more than he would have imagined possible. He forced himself to concentrate on her words. “What can have possibly come over you, Reginald Cox? Did you really believe you would succeed in abducting me?”

Jed settled back to watch as Cox shrugged, nodding to him. “I would have done quite well, if it had not been for this brave lothario here, interfering in things.” His face took on a petulant expression as he went on. “Though really, Victoria, must you refer to what I was trying to do as abducting you?”

“And what then would you prefer I call it?” She barely glanced toward Jed as the other indicated him, rising with surprising grace, considering the circumstances. She perched, ladylike, on the seat and righted her bonnet with unruffled aplomb, and he began to wonder at the sheer depth of her bravado. Did the woman have no understanding of what had nearly happened to her?

It was when she brushed the dark curls away from her face, even as she continued to eye Reginald Cox with disdain, that Jed noted a barely perceptible trembling in her slender, white-gloved fingers. Sympathy stabbed at his chest. Obviously she was more shaken by what had happened than she would have them know. Obviously she was acting out of true bravery, rather than because of a foolish sense of invulnerability, as some did. He felt a growing admiration that surprised him, since he would not have expected to feel that way about anyone of her class.

Surprise at his own reaction kept Jed silent as Cox shrugged again and said, “I did mean to make an honest woman of you, Victoria. I had nothing less than marriage in mind, and would still continue toward that end, if you would only come to your senses.”

The beauty’s arched brows rose with haughty contempt. “I wonder that you would not take my repeated refusals as reply enough to convince you to leave me be.”

Reginald pursed pouty lips. “Dash it, “Victoria, that was what drove me to compel you. I am at my wits’ end to have you.”

Neither Cox nor the lady took note of the fact that Jed leaned toward the other man. “To have me,” she sputtered. “More like to have my wealth and property.”

Her remark served to cause the man to flush with embarrassment, but it did not stop him from trying to convince her she was wrong. He reached toward her. “Victoria, you must know how I feel….”

He was halted by Jed’s firm grip on his shoulder. The sea captain could now feel the undivided attention of both centered wholly on him. He focused on the man. “That will be enough Mr…. Cox.”

Clearly, Reginald Cox was not going to give up on this easily. He made a move to pull away from the hold on his shoulder, but Jed’s grip held firm. Cox’s frustration was apparent even when he raised his nose and tried for a superior expression as he lifted his gaze to Jed’s. “Unhand me, you madman. This is really none of your concern. Be on your way, and I will forget that you intruded where you were not wanted.”

Jed made no effort to hold back the mocking smile that curved his lips. “How very good of you, but again I must decline to accept your generous offer.” His expression and voice then hardened as his grip became what must be painfully tight. “Get out of the carriage.”

Cox paled, as if finally understanding that he was completely in Jed’s power. Slowly, and with clear reluctance, he followed the larger man without another word.

Victoria Thorn found herself blinking in surprise as she realized that the two men had exited the carriage. She sat back on the seat with a groan of self-derision. What in heaven’s name had come over her?

She could not have said. All she did know was that she had not had a coherent thought since first looking into the face of her rescuer. Surely, she thought, pressing her hands to her heated cheeks, her odd sense of disorientation was nothing more than a strange reaction to nearly being kidnapped, then just as suddenly finding herself safe once more.

Again she envisioned those heavily lashed sea-green eyes, that mobile mouth, which had been thinned with dangerous intent as the man spoke to Reginald Cox. He had radiated a kind of hard strength that had nothing to do with the gun in his hand. Here was a man who knew how to attain what he desired, who knew how to command respect because of what was inside him. If he had no weapon at all, Reginald would still have been forced to heed him. It was equally obvious that he was a man of honor or he would not have come to her aid.

She did not want to think that her awareness had anything to do with the fact that he was incredibly handsome, a valiant liberator who had come dressed all in black except for his flowing white shirt, as a reckless buccaneer might. That kind of breathless fantasy was for chambermaids and debutantes. Not for mature women, women for whom the well-being of hundreds of people was a daily concern.

But it could not be denied that he was handsome, with his strongly cut features, the angles and hollows having been clearly outlined by the light from the carriage lantern. That same light had played on the pale golden streaks in his dark blond hair. His hard jaw and lean cheeks had not kept her gaze from drifting down to the strong, tanned column of his throat, which was exposed by the open neck of his white shirt.

A shiver rippled through Victoria, though she was not the least bit cold. Her gaze strayed to the now closed carriage door through which the men had passed, even as her ears picked up the sounds of their voices.

It was not difficult to differentiate between her rescuer’s tone and the other’s. His was rich and authoritative, even without being raised. It was apparent that he was accustomed to giving commands—and having them obeyed. She also noted as he continued to speak that the man’s English was strangely accented. Surely, she thought, he must be American.

American. Her own grandfather’s brother had gone across the sea to make his fortune there. It was said that he had been a great adventurer who could not be contained by the small islands of Britain. The Thorns had never again heard from him, nor from any family he might have. Would his descendants have the same intractable courage and confidence that this man had displayed thus far?

An angry retort from outside roused her from these thoughts, and Victoria sat up straighter, running her hands over her blue silk skirts. Taking note of the fact that they were trembling, she then clenched them tightly in her lap. She must get hold of herself.

Victoria could only hope that neither Reginald nor her rescuer had taken heed of her upset. It was quite unlike her to become so distraught, and she disliked any sign of weakness in herself. As she was the last surviving member of the Thorn family, it was her duty to meet every challenge with fortitude and heroism.

She could not help casting up a silent prayer that Reginald had indeed given up the notion of abducting her. She could still hardly give credence to the fact that he had been so foolish. Did he actually believe he could whisk her, Lady Victoria Thorn, sole heir to the duke of Carlisle, off to Gretna Green or some such place and marry her against her will?

Victoria had been rejecting his proposals for weeks, and had known that he was growing impatient with her refusals. Never had she imagined that the fortune-hunting Reginald would have the audacity to kidnap her. Regally she raised her finely sculpted chin. The very impudence of him.

Yet in spite of her bravado she did know a flutter of fear at realizing that he might well have succeeded, had it not been for the stranger. The man with eyes the color of a frothy sea.

The fluttering came inside her again, but this time it had nothing to do with fear. There was much that was compelling about the man who had aided her. He was quite unlike any she had ever chanced to meet. Such a mixture of strength and chivalry was definitely unusual and gave Victoria pause for thought.

She was again pulled out of her reverie, by the sounds of angry voices from outside the clarence, and her heart thudded in reaction when they were followed by the retort of a pistol. There was then more shouting, and the sound of hooves thundering off into the distance. What could have happened, she wondered?

Deciding that she must see for herself what was taking place, Victoria reached for the door handle. But she sat back in surprise and sudden unease as the door opened.

Pray God, she murmured silently, it not be Reginald. A sense of relief coursed through her in the next instant as she saw that it was the very man who had rescued her.

He was rubbing the back of his neck gingerly. “I’m afraid they have gotten away. The other one had managed to overpower your driver while I was binding Cox. He hit me over the back of the head with a branch, and they escaped. I am going after them, but I am going to tell your driver to take you directly home.”

She held out her hand to halt him. “No, please, let them go. I do not believe Reginald will be of any threat to me now. He would not risk the scandal.”

“But…” The man’s expression was incredulous.

“Please,” She broke in. “I wish nothing so much as to put this whole episode behind me. Reginald is really quite a harmless fool, and he will never find the courage to attempt such a thing again.”

He frowned in consternation, but she pressed on. “I assure you that this is all for the best. I have no wish to make this incident public. Nor will Mr. Cox, or Mr. Jenkins.”

He hesitated as his gaze met hers. “Is there no way that I can convince you? They should be punished.”

She shook her head.

As he was obviously not happy with her decision, she breathed a sigh of relief when he shrugged. “As you will.” He nodded toward the seat across from her. “May I at least suggest, then, that I see you safely home?” He looked at her questioningly, one dark brow quirked rakishly over those compelling green eyes.

She took a deep breath to steady herself as she realized anew just how attractive he was. The feeling of being safe in his presence had not abated. And in spite of what she had said to him, there was a lingering trace of fear in her at what might have happened if he had not chanced upon them. She gave a barely perceptible nod. “I would be grateful.”

He nodded. “I’ll tie my horse to the back.”

“Victoria nodded in return, wondering why she was being so faint of heart as she watched the man leave the interior of the carriage. A moment later he was back, opening the window and instructing the driver to go on. He then settled himself on the seat across from her.

The carriage started off with a slight jolt, momentarily distracting her. It was well sprung, and the motion smoothed out quickly, and her attention was soon drawn back to the man who had come to her aid. Try as she might, Victoria could not help noticing the way the lanternlight set his dark blond hair agleam with golden highlights. Coupled with the deep tan she had previously noted on his face and throat, this evidence made her certain he spent long hours in the sun.

Who was this man? And what strange twist of fate had placed him on this lonely stretch of road so late at night? And just when she needed him? She asked none of the questions dancing through her mind, something telling her he would not welcome her queries.

He leaned forward, drawing her gaze back to his eyes, which were watching her with concern. “Are you all right Miss…?”

“Victoria Thorn, and of course I’m all right,” she answered hurriedly as she willed herself to stop the blush that was stealing up from her own throat. It did no good. She could only hope her bonnet would conceal it.

Surreptitiously she ran her gaze over the considerable length of him. As she did so, she realized that his long legs, encased in snug black breeches, were mere inches from her own. He shifted, and she could not help noticing the flexing of the hard muscles in his thighs.

Victoria forced her gaze away from the amazingly stirring sight. What was the matter with her? she asked herself in exasperation. Carrying out her duties as mistress of all her deceased father’s lands and finances had given her a maturity far beyond her twenty-three years. Why was she now acting like a schoolgirl?

Obviously concerned at her renewed silence, he asked again, “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She nodded slowly as she met that green gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as something powerful yet indefinable passed between them. She felt protected and cared for beneath that steady regard, as she had not since her parent’s deaths, three years gone by. Victoria felt a sudden and inexplicable wish for him to hold out his arms and take her into them, as her father would have done. But, she reminded herself as she dropped her gaze to her clasped hands, this man was not her father. Her own reactions to his maleness were reminder enough of that.

Silently she berated herself for her own mad thinking. She had known many handsome men. Victoria had in fact been courted by some of the most attractive bachelors in England on her coming out. Her own unmarried state was due more to a desire to put the matter off than to lack of. opportunity. But as she risked a quick glance at him from the corner of her eye, she realized that that did not change what was happening to her now. None of those men had been as devastating to her senses as this one.

In a manner quite unlike her usual direct one, she continued to look at her hands as she answered him. “I am fine, sir. I must thank you now for having come to my aid, though I should certainly have done so sooner.”

“There is no need to thank me. Anyone would have done the same.”

The modesty of his tone made her look at him. As she answered, her voice was filled with sincerity. “No, I do not believe that anyone would have. You must certainly be a man of good character and a brave heart, else you would not have done so.” He appeared decidedly uncomfortable with her gratitude, which drew her to say, “You must allow me to reward you in some way.”

He shrugged offhandedly. “I will accept your thanks as reward enough.”

She watched him with growing approval. What a rare man he seemed! Strong, chivalrous, modest, and apparently without greed. Again she tried, feeling compelled to do something for him in return. “Is there nothing I can do for you? You have no idea how much good you have done me. I fear I would have had the dubious distinction of being Mrs. Reginald Cox by morning if you had not happened along.”

He laughed ruefully, his teeth flashing white, his eyes sparkling in the lanternlight. “Maybe a reward is in order. The crown jewels just might equal a debt of that magnitude.”

Ah, a sense of humor as well, Victoria thought as she watched him. The husky sound of his laughter sent a tingle of awareness down her spine. “Truly,” she found herself asking, “is there no small thing I can do for you in return for your kindness? I do not even know your name.”

Jed sobered as he studied her. His expression was thoughtful, assessing. For into his mind had come the realization that this might just be his opportunity to try to learn something of Nina, or at least to get some idea of where to begin to find her. Yet he hesitated.

As he watched Victoria, saw her gray eyes earnest on his, he felt a strange reluctance to tell her anything about himself or his problems. Some part of him said to get on his horse and never look back. Another part, the one that was bent on locating Nina and his son, told him his resistance had solely to do with the fact that Victoria Thorn was just the type of woman he so wished to avoid.

The crest on the carriage door, the woman’s clothing, her regal bearing, all were evidence of a certain social standing. Yet in spite of all that, he had not been able to let her ride off into the night alone, especially knowing that those two men might be lurking about with that hope in mind. After the way Jed had watched his father mistreat his mother, he could not bear to see anyone abused by someone of greater strength.

His discomfort had nothing to do with the way her dark hair curled softly about her delicate cheeks, nor the expression of interest he saw in her undeniably lovely gray eyes—which he knew was only a trick of the light. Surely his wariness was not connected to the way his body tightened when he remembered the view he’d had of the lady’s sweetly rounded bottom.

And because his discomfort was not caused by any of those things, he would be a fool indeed to pass up this chance to gain some knowledge of Nina and his child. So thinking, Jed looked at her squarely, not allowing his gaze to stray to the distracting curves that were exposed by the tight-fitting bodice of her blue gown. “My name is Jedidiah McBride. I was on my way to London from the port of Westacre, where I left my ship.”

He couldn’t help seeing the way her interest quickened at the mention of his ship. Her words confirmed his thought. “You are a sea captain?”

“Yes, I… have some business in England.”

There was curiosity in her tone as she said, “You are an American, are you not?”

He nodded. Jed continued to face her, not liking to be anything but direct. Still, it was a moment before he could bring himself to say what he wanted to, as she was looking at him with those wide, questioning gray eyes of hers.

Jed forced himself to look away from the hypnotic attentiveness in her gaze. He had to know if she could tell him anything that might help him find Nina. That was all he wanted from her.

He spoke with cool remoteness. “There is a possibility that there is something you could do for me.” He could not quite keep the slight hopefulness from his voice as he went on. “Would you know of a family by the surname of Fairfield?”

She frowned as he glanced at her, and he saw that she seemed somewhat surprised by the question. Slowly she shook her head. “Fairfield? I do not know. Is there any more you can tell me?”

Jed frowned himself. “Squire Fairfield.”

Her expression grew even more pensive. “Squire Fairfield.” After a moment, she looked at him regretfully. “I am very sorry. Are these people some relation of yours?”

He was disappointed, but he tried not to let it show as he shook his dark blond head. “No, no relation of mine.” She was watching him very closely, and Jed had the feeling that she was seeing more than he would have liked.

She held up her hands in a gesture of helplessness, confirming his suspicions when she spoke. “I can see that this is important to you. Is there not some other clue you might give me? I feel quite useless in not even being able to help with this small matter.”

Their gazes met and held, as Jed found himself thinking that she was indeed very lovely with the gentle glow of the lanternlight on her face. The delicate curves of her cheeks and jaw beckoned a man’s lips, as did her sweetly shaped mouth. For one arresting moment, he could have sworn that he saw attraction in those fathomless gray depths. But he knew that could not be. Never would a woman of her world be interested in him, a simple man of the sea.

Yet she seemed genuinely concerned that she had not been able to assist him. She did in that regard appear different from the other women of her kind he had known. For some inexplicable reason, he found himself wondering if he should reveal to this stranger, this English lady, his reason for being here. If she knew more of the story, might then she be able to help him find Nina—and his son?

Yet even as he made the decision, it was almost against his will that Jed found himself reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. He watched her eyes widen as he withdrew the letter and handed it to her.

“What is this?” she asked.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “It is a letter from a woman I knew when I was quite young. I received it about ten weeks ago. If you would be good enough to read it, I think it will explain itself.”

Victoria could only look on the handsome man seated across from her with amazement. Never had she expected this. Realizing that she was staring, Victoria turned her attention to the letter.

Carefully she opened the wrinkled page, which bore the evidence of having been read many times. The message was simple.

Dear Jedidiah,

I hope you will be able to find it in your heart to forgive me for what I am about to tell you. For that is the one hope that has given me the courage to write to you at all.

You see, I am very ill. I am, in truth more painful to admit even to myself, dying. In order to go to my rest with conscience clear, I must then tell you something that I have kept hidden from everyone, including my husband, for twelve years. You, Jedidiah, are the father of my eleven-year-old son. I ask you not to try contacting him or myself. As I said, all I ask of you is your forgiveness. Please try to find it in your heart to give me that much, though I understand you do not owe it to me.

Nina

Victoria looked up at the man, not knowing what to say. “I take it you are the Jedidiah she mentions?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She hardly knew what to say. “How very dreadful for you! But I did not understand how I can be of assistance. I do not know anyone by that name. And if you do not mind my asking, how do you know that Fairfield is her surname? She did not sign it on either the inside or the outside of the letter.”

His jaw flexed as he answered her. “I have known the name of her husband for some time.”

Victoria had the impression that he would say no more on that subject, and she didn’t ask. It seemed there were many long-held resentments at work here. Obviously this Nina’s husband was the Squire Fairfield he sought.

She found herself asking. “Do you have any other information that might help?”

He grimaced. “I know that the letter was posted from London.” His wide shoulders drew her gaze as he shrugged. “Other than that, I know nothing. I have no leads, no contacts, not one thing. I only know that to find her I must gain entry into the circle she inhabits. When you asked if you could help me in some way…” He shrugged again.

She looked down at her hands, then glanced back to his face as she wondered why this woman had not told him of the child all those years ago. Had she feared that he would not marry her? Victoria could not even imagine that any woman who could have the man before her as her very own would not do so. Thus, the reluctance had to have been on his part.

Although Victoria felt that Jedidiah McBride was in fact a good and decent man, she also thought there might be a hint of ruthlessness in him. She sensed that he would do nothing against his own indomitable will. And, likewise, that nothing he desired could be denied him.

What would it feel like to be desired by this man? A shiver of awareness raced down her spine and she could only pray that he had not seen it.

She tried to focus on what Jedidiah McBride had said to her. Obviously he was determined to find this woman and his child. Doing so might prove very difficult for him. As he had said he knew no one who might assist him. Though she knew many people socially, Victoria could think of no person she would trust to assist a man like Jedidiah McBride with his problem. She, in her own way, was as isolated from London society as he. The responsibilities of her position made it impossible for her to waste time in the frivolous entertainments the London season had to offer. Truth to tell, Victoria cared more for being at her country manor house, Briarwood. It was where she had spent most of her time as a child, where she had lived with her beloved mother and father.

Previous to this night, she would have believed that nothing would threaten the peace of that existence. This attempt to kidnap her gave evidence to the false nature of her security. It seemed that, without a man to protect her, she was vulnerable indeed.

Her searching gaze ran over the man across from her, taking in the wide set of his shoulders, his strong hands, his confident demeanor. The sea captain would have no need to fear anyone. He wore his strength with an easy grace that made him all the more intimidating.

An idea was beginning to insinuate itself into her mind. It was an idea she could not dismiss, though she did make an attempt. Surreptitiously Victoria studied the man seated across from her. He seemed lost in thought, and the tightness of the hands clenched around his knees gave away the tension inside him, his desperation to find this woman. Was he desperate enough to agree to her plan?

There was only one way to find out.

“Mr. McBride,” she began, feeling his attention come back to her face. “I have a proposition for you to consider.”

She glanced at him and saw that he was looking at her with a puzzled frown. “Yes?” he replied somewhat warfly.

She centered her gaze on the hands she held clasped in her lap. “What has happened this evening has made me realize that there is a matter which I have been putting off for far too long.” She paused and took a deep breath, then went on, determined not to let him see that she was nervous. “The matter of my marriage.” Facing him directly, she wondered what his reaction might be to her blunt statement.

“I see,” he told her. But it was obvious that he truly did not see what connection this could have to him.

Quickly ‘Victoria went on. “I have been quite occupied with running my father’s estates in these past years since my parents were both killed in a boating accident at Bath—” Her voice broke for a moment, as the years between had hardly dulled the pain of being without them. She forced herself to continue in an even tone. “My father was the duke of Carlisle, and…”

He interrupted her, scowling darkly. “Duke—?”

“Yes,” she said, not liking the way he was staring at her now. She continued, wondering what had brought about this reaction. “And as his heir I have been left with a great trust in my keeping. I have realized that I should have married long before this. If I had, none of the events that took place this very night would have happened.”

His expression grew puzzled. “You obviously have a problem,” Jedidiah McBride told her, “but I do not see what it has to do with me.”

A frown marred her own brow. “I am getting to that. It seems clear, Mr. McBride, that I have need of a husband, but it seems equally clear that I have need of a protector until such a man is located. I am asking you, sir, to be my protector.” She hurried on before he could reply. “In return, I am offering to introduce you to London society. There, you would be able to make inquiries about these people, named Fairfield, and your child.”

She raised her head and saw that his face was even more thoughtful than before. He looked up at her, his eyes assessing. “Are you sure that you know what you would be doing here? You do not know me, or anything about me. I have just told you that I fathered an illegitimate child. Doesn’t that concern you in any way?”

She watched him, her gaze never leaving his as they measured each other. The moment stretched on, and she felt a strange stirring inside her as she looked into those clear green eyes, with not even a hint of fear. Feeling an unexplainable breathlessness that she could only put down to her anxiety that he might refuse, Victoria answered him softly. “No, I am not concerned. That was many years ago, and I do not know what happened between you and this woman. But you have come to do right by your child as soon as you learned of his existence. That is not the action of a dishonorable man. In fact, everything that has occurred this evening has made me sure that you would discharge the duty of protecting me with great diligence. I will not judge you by something that must have happened between you and this woman when you were a boy.”

“I was seventeen, and what happened between us was she did not want me,” he supplied dispassionately.

Heavens, she thought, but he had been little more than a child himself! “More fool she,” was all she said in answer.

He seemed more than slightly taken aback and, dared she think it, pleased by her reply. She soon wondered if she had imagined the look of pleasure, for he shrugged noncommittally. “And how long do you believe this business association would last?”

She said, “I have no idea of the exact timing, but I can assure you that I should be able to find myself a husband from among the eligible bachelors who will be attending the season without a great deal of delay. I am not without assets.” Her wealth and position were well-known, and were the very things that had made her a target of Reginald’s greed.

“I would not deny that,” he said, causing her to look at him again. She flushed when she saw the assessing glance he cast over her. Although she realized the man had misunderstood her comment, she did not feel that she could clarify the matter. Not with him studying her like that, those cool green eyes of his making her feel warm in a way she did not understand.

Victoria decided to simply go on with the rest of what she wanted to tell him. “For your part, I would be willing to give you my backing until your parties are found. You will, of necessity, go with me wherever I go. Thus, you may make your inquiries at will.” She paused, then went on, “We shall say that you are my cousin, come from America.”

He quirked a brow, the side of his mouth turning up at the same time, and her heart tripped a double beat. “Your cousin?”

She squared her shoulders, doing her best to concentrate on the conversation, not on his mouth, or the way it made her stomach flutter. “My grandfather’s brother went off to search for adventure there. We have not heard from him or any descendants he might have, but you see, there is no other way to explain your presence in my home. I simply could not entertain any man who was not a relation to me. It would be completely unacceptable.”

“Of course, your kind would expect you to adhere to all the conventions.” She sensed a hint of disdain in his tone, and wondered at it. An unpleasant flash of disquiet darted through her.

When he went on, she momentarily forgot that faint unease. “I accept your offer. I will watch over you and make certain that no harm is done to you while you find a husband. In return, you will introduce me to the people who can help me find my child.”

She nodded. “It is agreed.”

Yet now that they had settled on it, Victoria could not dismiss the tickling feeling of apprehension that lingered as she looked at him. He was watching her, as well, and she had to force herself not to look away from the intensity of his gaze. It was as though he were searching, trying to see if there was something about her that did not please him.

The mere idea of such a thing rankled, but Victoria did not remark on her suspicions, as she had no reason for them. When she went over his actual words in her mind, there was nothing in them to cause her worry.

The sea captain had been nothing but gallant in his rescue of her, a perfect stranger. But the notion that something was wrong could not be totally dismissed, no matter how she told herself that she was being absurd.

Determinedly Victoria pushed her anxiety down, far into the recesses of her mind. She had found a solution to her problems in meeting Jedidiah McBride and was now reacting to him in this way because it put off her real cause for concern—that of finding a husband who would care for her and her father’s estates as they should be.

Victoria had no illusions about love. That was not something she expected or even hoped to find. The oftlauded excitement and fulfillment of that emotion were not for her.

Duty and responsibility must stand in their stead. Then she realized that even as she told herself this, her gaze had strayed quite unaccountably to the handsome stranger who now sat silent on the other side of the carriage.

Chapter Two

Jedidiah opened his eyes and surveyed the elaborately corniced ceiling with a strange sense of displacement. He reared straight up in the huge four-poster bed. As he took in the blue-paneled walls, the heavy oak furniture and the long brocade curtains at the tall windows, the events of the previous night all came back to him in a rush of memory.

He was at Briarwood. The name of the sprawling mansion had been supplied to him by the liveried manservant who had seen him to his room. Even in the soft glow of the moonlight, Jed had been able to recognize that Victoria’s three-story sandstone manor house was remarkable in size and structure. The main section was decorated by heavy cornice and sculpted window frames. It was flanked by two equally impressive wings that jutted backward over luxurious lawns. He realized that Victoria’s house must certainly rival any of those owned by the queen herself.

Lady Victoria’s manor house, he reminded himself as he threw back the covers, then strode across the room to take up his pants from the beige-striped satin chair where he had left them. He would be wise to keep things on a formal footing between himself and the beguiling mistress of Briarwood manor. When he agreed to protect the woman until she found herself a husband, he’d had no idea what he was getting himself into.

She’d said her father had been a duke, and Jed knew that having a title meant something significant here in England. But, being American, he had not been completely cognizant of the implications of the term.

Seeing the house, the liveried servants, the sheer grandeur of the manor’s interior, which had been obvious even in the dim glow of the candles that lit the way last night, Jed understood that he had stepped into deep water. He had the feeling Victoria Thorn was someone at the very height of her social class. This realization did not please him in any way. Because of what he had agreed to do, he would be forced to mingle with the most arrogant and useless members of English society. In his experience, the more important the wealthy and highly placed felt, the more thoughtless and ignorant they were.

He wanted to find Victoria Thorn and tell her that he’d changed his mind, that she hadn’t made the situation clear. But he knew he wouldn’t do that. He’d given his word, and that was that.

What he could do was get on with the business of getting her married as quickly as possible. Once he helped Lady Victoria find herself a suitable husband, then located Nina, he would be on his way with his son. With that thought firmly fixed in his mind, Jed held out his pants in preparation for stepping into them.

At that same moment, there was a soft scratching at the bedroom door. He looked toward it, then down at his own bare length, with a frown of discomfiture. He called out, “Wait one-”

The door swung open.

A female, obviously a serving woman, judging by her dress and the fact that she held a wide silver tray in her hands, stood in the opening. Behind her, her eyes going wide even as a dark flush rose up to stain her cheeks, was none other than Lady Victoria herself.

Jed hurried to cover himself, but not before he took note of the fact that Lady Victoria’s wide gray gaze came to light on that most male part of him. Even though the expression of curious wonder and amazement in those eyes was short-lived and quickly replaced by shock, his body’s reaction was immediate and unwelcome. He told himself that the forced celibacy of the ocean crossing was the reason for his physical response. It had nothing at all to do with the unseemly fascination in that fleeting glance.

To his further dismay, Jed felt the heat of a blush rise up to color his own cheeks. He had no memory of the last time he had blushed at anything, let alone at having a woman see him without his pants on.

Determinedly he clutched his pants tightly to him, hoping he had moved quickly enough to keep the lady from seeing the evidence of his arousal. He was fairly certain she had never beheld a man in the buff before.

What she might make of it, he had no idea. Judging from her behavior last night, Victoria was not like the women he had known of her class. Her mature manner, undeniable courage, and poise in the face of nearly being kidnapped were proof of that. But he would be willing to bet that she was completely innocent in the carnal sense.

Yet what could he do? Jed looked into her face, quirking a brow as he shrugged. “Is there something I can do for you?” This seemed to at last bring her out of her dazed state.

“Oh, dear,” she muttered, raising her hand to cover her mouth, then turning her back to him. “Please forgive me. I had no idea. I did not consider…Clara and I will leave you alone now.”

Jed’s gaze went to Clara, who was watching him with unconcealed appreciation in her blue eyes. For some reason, he had forgotten the maid, who he now saw was quite attractive, with her golden-blond hair peeking out from beneath her mobcap to curl around her fine features. To his surprise, he felt no pleasure in seeing her appreciative reaction to him, only indifference.

This caused him to scowl anew, though he was not prepared to question the cause of his disinterest.

Victoria Thorn spoke again, drawing his attention to her. The rigid line of her slender back was not alleviated by the soft yellow fabric of the gown she wore. “I will await you in the drawing room. The footman at the bottom of the stairs will direct you.”

With that, she grabbed an arm of the obviously reluctant Clara and left without even shutting the door. As Jed moved to close it, he saw the servant throw one last peep over her left shoulder. He slammed the tall oak portal, then leaned back against it as he drew on his pants.

It was only a few minutes later that Jed left the room and made his way down the wide hallway, with growing discomfort. Last night he had had the vague impression of high ceilings and thick carpets. Now, in the light that streamed through the tall windows at either end of the hall, he was struck by the sheer magnitude of the wealth that had bought so much luxury. The walls were lined with fine works of art, which had no doubt been painted by great masters. Grecian statues graced velvet-lined recesses, and rested atop small carved tables that must be considered works of art in themselves.

It was becoming clearer by the moment that he had gotten himself into a position where he would be surrounded by a world that was the epitome of all that he despised. Such possessions set the extremely wealthy apart and made them feel somehow superior to others. How could Victoria, surrounded by all this opulence, be any different? In spite of his first impressions of her as being somehow more genuine and unpretentious, Jed knew that she could not be.

Again he reminded himself of why he had agreed to stay. Firstly for the purpose of finding his son, and secondly because Victoria Thorn needed his help. It was increasingly clear that her incredible affluence was one of the very things that made the lady the target of greedy suitors.

Men such as Reginald Cox were not as scarce as they should be. Though Jed had foiled the bastard’s attempts to abduct Victoria, he could not abandon her now.

His mother had taught him better than that. She had always reminded Jed that it was important to help those who needed it. Margaret McBride had herself often shared what little she had with others even less fortunate than herself.

Though she had so much, Victoria had said she needed him. He recalled how visibly shaken she had been last night, despite her efforts to hide her fear. No, he could not abandon her.

Jed could only hope he would keep his own attraction to the lady under control. The memory of the rush of heat he’d felt only minutes ago, when she came to his room and found him without benefit of his trousers, was an intense one. Shifting his shoulders inside his black jacket, Jed shook his head. He was no inexperienced boy, he assured himself with forced confidence. His feelings would be kept at bay.

His boots made no sound on the plush carpet that ran the length of the corridor, but as he stepped onto the wide double staircase that lead to the foyer below, the sound of his heels clattered against the highly polished wood and echoed above him. This drew his gaze upward, where he saw a ceiling exquisitely painted with cherubs and clouds that were so real they looked as if they would be soft and billowy to the touch.

At the foot of the stairs, a footman, uniformed in royal blue, bowed and pointed to a door across the marbled floor. “You are to go into the green sitting room, if you please, sir.” The man rushed to open the white-paneled door for him.

Jed nodded. “Thank you.” He was not used to receiving such deferential treatment from servants, was in fact not used to servants much at all. He preferred to wait on himself. When he was in Bridgeport, where the ship building firm was located, he generally stayed with his partner, Peter Cook, and his family. Peter’s wife, Jane, and his young sister, Leanne, managed the household chores with the help of an authoritative older woman named Mrs. Muldoon. She was not the least bit servile in her manner, running the house with an iron hand.

With brows raised at the irony of this whole situation, Jed moved past the man and into the chamber beyond. The long room was resplendent with white-paneled walls and plush carpeting. The intricate trim on the walls and ceiling was lavishly bathed in gold. Settees and chairs in various shades of green, ranging from a yellow spring green to deepest hunter, were arranged about the room. Portraits of what Jed was certain were long-dead relatives in wigs and pantalets adorned the walls. The tall windows that ran along the length of the outside wall let in enough light to give the place a warm, cheery feel, despite its grandeur.

All this Jed took in as he made his way to the opposite end of the chamber, where Victoria sat on a light green sofa. She did not meet his eyes as he came to a standstill a few feet from her. All her attention appeared to be centered on the tea tray which lay on the table before her.

While her gaze was trained elsewhere, Jed had a moment to study her more closely than he had the previous night. Then he had had an impression of beauty and courage. Today he was hit with the full force of the femininity of the woman he had agreed to protect.

Her hair was quite dark, nearly black, in fact, and to his surprise seemed to be somewhat unruly. In spite of the tidy bun that had been arranged at the base of her neck, stray wisps had escaped to curl about her forehead and nape. Fringes of thick, dark lashes were outlined against her high cheekbones, which were flushed a healthy peach. Her nose was narrow and finely formed, her jawline clearly but not sharply defined. She wore a gown of some soft gauzy fabric in a delicate butter yellow. The high neckline did nothing to detract from the femininity of her figure, the bodice cut close over her sweetly rounded breasts. Inside him he felt a definite stirring that had nothing to do with wanting to safeguard this woman.

His lips thinned as he recalled his own certainty that he could put aside his interest in her. God help him, Jed thought grimly, he hoped he didn’t end by having to protect her from himself.

Victoria did not look at Jedidiah directly as she heard him come to a standstill before her. She could not stop thinking about her own unexpected, and most unwelcome, reaction to seeing him in the altogether.

Yet neither could she ignore him. Trying with all her will, but with little success, to vanquish the memory of his tall, lean, muscular form from her mind, she picked up a blue patterned china cup. “Would you care for tea, Mr. McBride?” To her annoyance, her fingers quivered slightly, and she could only hope that he was not aware of it.

“Do you have coffee?” he asked politely.

She looked up at him. Of course he would want coffee, she told herself. He was an American. “I am very sorry,” she told him hurriedly. “I do not. I will ring for the maid.”

He stopped her with a raised hand. “No, don’t bother. Tea will be fine.”

Feeling suddenly awkward and not knowing why, Victoria told herself she must make certain that Mrs. Everard even had the beverage the sea captain preferred. She did want him to be comfortable while he was with them. Hastily she filled a delicate Dresden cup and held it out to him.

Jedidiah McBride reached out, and for a brief moment their fingers brushed as she relinquished the cup to him. A completely unexpected jolt of heat passed from his hand to hers and up her arm. Without thinking, she jerked back, folding her trembling fingers together in her lap.

Heavens, whatever was the matter with her? Although he was the first man she had ever seen without benefit of his clothing, the glimpse had been fleeting and inadvertent. It was quite unfortunate that she had been in such a panic to make certain the sea captain told no one, including Clara, of his true identity that she had accompanied the maid to his chamber. It had been that silly goose Clara who opened the door before being granted entry. The whole thing had been quite hapless, and would not be repeated.

Even as Victoria told herself this, she was again assaulted by the image of the stirring she had glimpsed, in his, well… there…as she looked at him.

She risked a glance at the man from beneath her dark lashes. He seemed to be stirring his tea with intense concentration, judging by the determined expression on his face. She couldn’t help noticing that the delicate china looked even more so in his strong hands.

Because of his preoccupation, she was emboldened to look at him more closely. Goodness, but he was more handsome than she had remembered. Last night, there had been only the lanternlight in the carriage, and then candles when they reached Briarwood. She’d also been more shaken by what had happened than she cared for anyone else to know even now.

Sunlight did nothing to diminish Jedidiah McBride’s attractiveness. If anything, he was even more compelling with the sunlight bringing his sun-streaked dark blond hair to vibrant life. Her gaze dipped lower, to where his lean jaw was lightly stubbled with dark gold hair. It looked coarser in texture than that on his head, and she wondered if it would feel so to the touch. Her curious eyes moved on. The black coat he had donned over his open-necked white shirt was rumpled from his altercation with Reginald, as were his close-fitting black breeches. His high black boots were scuffed and dusty, but the relaxed arrogance of his stance told her that Jedidiah McBride was not in the least concerned about his disordered state. To her surprise, Victoria did not find his slightly unkempt appearance distasteful, but somehow strangely appealing.

Before she could even begin to contemplate the reason for this, Jedidiah looked up at her, his brow quirked in an impatient query. Victoria felt a flush stain her throat. Heavens, she was being rude beyond imagining. Hurriedly she indicated the settee opposite her. “Please forgive me, it seems I have completely forgotten my manners today.” Her blush deepened as she remembered anew what had occurred upstairs earlier.

After he was seated, she took a deep breath, knowing she had best put the matter to rest as soon as possible. Victoria began, “Mr. McBride, let me begin by apologizing for what happened…. I had no intention… What I am trying to say is that I had no right to come to your room this morning. I was simply eager to talk with you. I meant to make certain that you did not give away your real identity to anyone. Not even to the members of my household. For the purpose of keeping our secret, all must believe you to be my cousin.” She stopped, then started again. “I had no idea Clara would just open the door. You see, the servants are accustomed to having few people here besides myself, and have grown less formal than they might otherwise be….”

She glanced at him and found him looking as uncomfortable as she felt. He did not meet her gaze as a dark flush colored his strong throat. She found her eyes lingering there. For some reason known only to whimsy, Victoria suddenly wondered what it would feel like to touch the ridge of muscle that ran down the side of his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt.

He cleared his throat, drawing her bemused gaze back to his face. Thankfully, the man appeared totally unaware of her madness. She forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying. “Lady Victoria, please don’t go on. I will not tell anyone anything other than what we agreed to last night.” He paused. “As to the other matter, there is no need to apologize. I understand, and it is already forgotten by me. I hope that you will forget what happened, as well.”

As Victoria listened to the delicately put reply, she found herself thinking again what a very gentlemanly man he really was, despite his lack of noble birth. Her wayward attention wandered over the length of him once more. She found herself regretting the fact that Jedidiah must change his mode of dress to a more formal one in order to fulfill their purpose. There was something very stirring about the casually masculine cut of his captain’s attire. There was no denying that he wore it with unexpected elegance. Many a man of her own acquaintance could benefit from emulating Jedidiah’s nonchalant attitude toward his appearance. For all the money they spent on their perfectly tailored coats, trousers and highly polished boots, they could not compete with his effortlessly graceful masculinity.

Again she realized that Jedidiah McBride was waiting for her to answer. She blushed to the roots of her hair. “I… Then it will be as you ask. We will forget what happened, and start afresh.” But even as she said the words, Victoria knew it would not be as easily done as said. Never had she thought that a man could be so very interesting, even handsome, without his clothing. The brief glimpse she’d had of him had been enough to show Victoria that the way his smooth skin lay over the hard muscles of his body was quite pleasing to her. Nor had she been completely blind to Clara’s reaction to the man. As these thoughts ran though Victoria’s mind, she was doubly careful not to allow her gaze to stray to the area at the top of his thighs.

Determinedly she concentrated on Jedidiah’s face as he nodded and gave her a crooked half smile. Unexpectedly, her heart turned over in her breast. Was there no end to the effect he had on her?

She nearly sighed aloud with impatience toward herself. Jedidiah McBride was here to help her with her problem. He had his own life and future. There would be nothing more between them when their bargain was met. She would remember that, if she knew her own good.

In the three years since her parents had died, she’d learned to control herself and her emotions. It was the only way she could have gotten through her grief, then accepted the enormous responsibility of running her father’s properties and business interests. She called upon those skills of self-control now. She must begin her efforts to find a husband as soon as possible.

Almost as if he had read her mind, Jedidiah McBride looked up from his cup, his expression filled with determination, and said, “Well, where do we begin to look for a husband?”

Victoria gave a start, his question disturbing her for some unknown reason. Then she told herself that this was completely ridiculous. She should be grateful that he was anxious to get started. It was further proof that he was not some charlatan bent on taking advantage of her. But the feeling of irritation remained, even as she answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “We will, of course, be going up to London. It being May, the season is on, and most of society’s eligible bachelors will be attending.”

He nodded in approval. “Nina’s letter was sent from London. It seems the best place to begin looking for her, as well.”

“I’m glad that both our needs will be so well served,” she replied smoothly. Victoria reached to pour herself a cup of tea before continuing. “There is much to be done before we can go on to London. The first thing we must do is see you outfitted as a gentleman. That will mean new clothing. Toward that end, I have sent for the man who tailored much of my father’s attire. Although he lives in Carlisle, which is the local town, he is a superb tailor and will turn you out very nicely.”

Jedidiah’s cup clattered in his saucer, making her look with surprise into a pair of stormy sea-green eyes. “I cannot agree to that,” he informed her curtly.

Her delicate brows raised in irritation at his unexpected brusqueness. “But I must insist. How can I introduce you into society as my cousin from America if you are not dressed as one of them?”

He scowled in displeasure, setting his cup and saucer carefully on the tray. “Lady Victoria, I had not realized that I would be expected to purchase a dandy’s wardrobe in order to fulfill my obligations to you. What good would it be to me to spend hundreds of pounds on clothing I will never wear again?”

She smiled at this. The funds that would be necessary to purchase his clothing would not be missed by her, and quite fairly could be considered her responsibility, since it was she who required his changed manner of dress. “That will not be your concern,” she told him. “I myself will see to that expense.”

“You will not!”

His vehemence caused her to pause, but then she went on, trying to be reasonable. “Please, you must realize that you will be accompanying me to whatever social functions I need to attend in London. We must not appear to be anything other than the cousins we have agreed upon. As I told you last night, it would not do for me to have you in my home without benefit of a chaperone if you are not related to me in some way. I have no female relation who could act as such. If I did, I might not find myself in this precarious position. The fact that I am alone is what gave Reginald the impression he might kidnap me without fear of retribution. As my cousin, you will be required to present yourself in a certain way, even if you are from America.”

His eyes narrowed as he listened. “And what does that mean? Would it be too much for your snobbish society matrons to believe that a mere sea captain could be the cousin of the noble and wealthy Lady Victoria Thorn?”

Victoria watched him closely, hearing again the tone that had so disturbed her last night. This time she could not put it off to some other cause. His disdain for society could not be missed.

“Are you all so very democratic in America, then? Is everyone treated equally regardless of their social or financial situation?”

For some reason, her question appeared to irritate him far more than she would have imagined, for a muscle flexed in his jaw, his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap and his gaze was trained on the blue sky outside the window. It was some moments before he seemed to relax enough to reply. And when he did, she could hear the mocking irony in his tone. “No. It is not different in America. There, too, who you are and what you have is more important than anything, including loyalty.”

Victoria could only study him for a long moment, realizing that he had just given her a clue as to the reason for his poor estimation of her kind. She wondered if this unfavorable opinion was connected to the infamous Nina. Had she rejected him because she felt she was better than he? She could not help thinking that this woman must indeed be a fool. Jedidiah McBride was handsome, intelligent, well-spoken, strong, and master of his own ship. One would need to have keener eyes than hers to find some flaw in him, other than the fact that he might be too obstinate and bent on keeping others at a distance.

What in heaven’s name was she to do with the man in London? They would, in their search for a suitable mate for her, be moving among the very highest orders of English society.

He spoke, interrupting her thoughts. “I… Forgive me. I had no right to talk to you that way. You have done me no wrong, have in fact agreed to do me a great service in helping to find my child. I will do whatever is necessary.”

Victoria felt a rising sense of compassion for this strong, intractable man. He must feel a great sense of longing for his child, if he was prepared to do something so unpleasant in order to find the boy.

She said, “I am very sorry for what this woman named Nina did to you. It was wrong, and had little or nothing to do with her social station. She was obviously just a foolish and selfish woman.”

He looked at her with an expression of displeasure and surprise, clearly not happy that she should broach the subject. To her amazement, he did answer her, though the words caused her to frown. “She was a product of her class.”

“The nobility are like everyone else. Some work hard and care about doing good, others live their lives for nothing but their own pleasure.”

“I’m sure you are right,” he told her, but the set expression on his face gave the lie to the words.

She wondered if there was more to this than a woman’s rejection. Jedidiah McBride did not seem the type of man to let such a thing color his thinking so completely.

Victoria’s thoughts returned to their original subject. “As we were discussing, you will have need of a new wardrobe. The very fact that it is for my benefit makes me feel I must certainly pay any expenses incurred in attaining it. You have already done much to help me, and I do not wish to inconvenience you further.”

His expression grew obstinate as he scowled at her. Victoria could not help frowning in annoyance herself. What had she done now?

He spoke slowly and distinctly, leaving her in no doubt as to the fact that this would be his final word on the matter. “I will purchase my own clothing. I will buy only what is absolutely necessary to get me through the next weeks. When I am finished with the garments, they can be given to someone who has an interest in such foolishness. You will not be paying for them.”

His dictatorial tone rankled. Yet, as her wayward gaze traversed the masculine length of him, Victoria had an unconscionable desire to tell him his garments would be of no use to anyone of her acquaintance. She knew no one with such wide shoulders, flat belly and slim hips. Victoria forced herself instead to concentrate on the fact that the stubborn man was being so very unpleasant. With a great force of will, she made herself answer with cool irony. “Thank you. I appreciate your amenability.” But as she rose to her feet, she could not prevent herself from adding, “I can only hope that our purpose is accomplished quickly, so you can rid yourself of everything you find distasteful with all possible haste.”

He stood as well, looking decidedly uncomfortable with her veiled sarcasm, but he made no reply. Obviously he felt it was better to allow the matter to rest.

But he had one last thing to say. “Your gratitude, although flattering, is somewhat misplaced. You are doing a favor of equal value for me. This is a business arrangement between us. You owe me nothing besides that which we’ve already agreed on.”

She watched him for a long moment, then nodded. “Very well.” Jedidiah was simply echoing her own sentiments. She ignored the tiny jab of regret in her chest.

Forcing a smile of deliberate civility, Victoria changed the subject. “I would assume you are hungry. I have asked that breakfast be held for you in the informal dining room. I hope you will find it to your liking.” She met his eyes briefly. “Now I ask you to excuse me, for I must attend to some business matters myself. We will be having luncheon in the informal dining room. Later this afternoon, Mr. Randsome will arrive to see to your new wardrobe.” She paused, then added, “I hope you will not mind if I meet with the two of you.”

He nodded, his sea-green eyes cool, expressionless. “Not in the least.”

It was clear that he meant to accept whatever was necessary to get the matter settled. With nothing more to add, she turned to go, but his voice halted her. “Lady Victoria?”

Victoria swung around to face him.

He said, “I will need to send a message to my first mate. I have to inform him of my whereabouts, in case he needs to contact me.”

“Of course. My servants are at your disposal.”

He grimaced, but made no other comment than to say, “Thank you.”

Chapter Three

With that, Victoria left him and went to what she still thought of as her father’s study. From behind that enormous black lacquer desk, he had directed not only his continued financial success, but also the well-being of the people he was responsible for.

She was accountable for doing the same. She would not allow thoughts of Jedidiah McBride and his stubborn American independence to distract her from her work. Many people depended on her being clear in her thinking. Victoria seated herself at the desk and rang for her estate manager, with whom she had a standing appointment.

As she waited, she thought about the many hours she had spent at this desk, the efforts she had made to fill her father’s proficient shoes. In the beginning, she had been frightened and uncertain about fulfilling his responsibilities with even a modicum of competence. In the end, she had come to realize that she must trust in her own judgment. After all, there was no one else. It was because she had learned to trust herself that Victoria told herself to accept her first impression of Jedidiah McBride.

Her parents would have approved of the American. Her father had always said a man must be judged by his action and not by his title. And Victoria knew that anyone who came to her aid so gallantly would have earned no criticism from her mother.

Once more she asked herself what it was about Jedidiah McBride that awakened her. Perhaps, she told herself hopefully, he was not the cause. She recalled the start of awareness she had felt when his hand brushed hers. Perhaps it was her own realization that she must marry that made her begin to feel more awareness of the opposite gender.

A discreet cough brought her attention back to the present. The estate manager, Robert Fuller, stood waiting for her. His quiet demeanor and conservative brown attire did not disguise the keen intelligence in his brown eyes. Victoria knew him to be a man who missed little, a man able to read most people and situations quite accurately. It was one of the reasons he was so valuable to her, but today, especially when she considered what she had been thinking, those skills seemed less desirable than usual.

Victoria flushed, clearing her throat and feeling decidedly grateful that the man could not read her thoughts. She also felt a trace of irritation with herself. She had no cause to think of the obstinate sea captain in any but the most impersonal of ways. As the man had told her himself, theirs was a business arrangement.

Refusing to even acknowledge any hint of regret, Victoria forced, her mind to concentrate on the present. Her duty must not be forgotten. “Mr. Fuller, please be seated. I’m sure there is much to be seen to, as I have decided to go up to London for at least a part of the season. Shall we get to it?”

If he had indeed noted her agitation, Mr. Fuller gave no indication of it, for with a nod he sat down and opened his case. Victoria felt herself flushing again. Of course he had seen nothing. It was her own ridiculous fascination with Jedidiah McBride that made her think otherwise. Determinedly she put him out of her mind.

Some two hours later, Victoria had seen to innumerable matters, including her approval of the distribution of extra funds to the orphanage she supported. She had also refused to increase the amount paid to the greedy blackguard who transported the coal from her mines to the railroad. She’d done some checking and found that the man already earned more than most of his counterparts. ‘Victoria had an innate sense of fairness that would not allow her to cheat others, but she was equally careful about not being swindled herself.

When Mr. Fuller had gathered up his books and notes, she left the study and went to her own bedchamber to freshen up before luncheon. Victoria’s room was adorned in ivory and varying shades of rose. She and her mother had decorated the room together when she was sixteen. Even if it hadn’t been such a pleasant and peaceful decor, Victoria did not think she would ever be inclined to change it. Just waking up and seeing the deep rose hangings above the bed called to mind her mother’s delicate floral scent and the sound of her gentle voice as they had viewed bolt after bolt of fabric, until they found just the right shade to match the rosebud centers in the brocade upholstery on the chairs.

Victoria sighed with unconscious longing. The wound of her parents’ passing was not so fresh as it had once been, yet she still missed their loving presence in her life.

Enough, she told herself. There was no sense bemoaning her fate. It was fortunate that she had little time to dwell on her loneliness. Besides, she would soon have a husband to lessen the sadness, she reminded herself with determination, though the thought did little to soothe her.

Going to the dressing table, “Victoria sat down and viewed herself in the gilt-edged mirror. For the first time since she was a young girl, she found herself wondering how she would appear to a man.

There was certainly no hint of fashionable beauty in her regular features. She lacked the pursed lips, blue eyes and sweetly rounded face that found such favor in the eyes of those who decided such things.

Her own gray eyes, though pleasant enough and thickly lashed, were too direct, her mouth was too full, her cheekbones were too high. No, she thought, shaking her head regretfully, there was not a hint of great beauty in her. Then her full mouth thinned in irony as she acknowledged that this lack did not mean she was completely undesirable. The vast fortune and social position she had been left were attractive enough for many to seek her out.

Since her very earliest realizations that she would someday marry, Victoria had wished to be treated as a woman first and the daughter of a duke second. No man besides Jedidiah McBride had ever done that. For that was exactly what he had done by coming to her aid with no notion of who she was or what she stood for.

Her hand drifted of its own accord to smooth the soft dark curls at her temples. What would Jedidiah have done if he had not found out that she was a noblewoman, one of the breed he so clearly disdained?

For a brief moment last night in the carriage, when he looked at her, she’d thought… But no. Not since discovering who she was had he given any hint that he might be attracted to her.

She frowned at her reflection, her fingers tracing the lace collar that edged the neckline of her yellow gown. Even though the hooped confection was of the very latest design, with its wide lace-trimmed sleeves and multitiered skirt, it certainly was not her best color.

Surely she had something more… But she resisted the urge to summon Betty to her chamber. The maid would wonder what was amiss if her mistress changed for the midday meal. She never did so.

She stood abruptly, knowing there was no time for such frivolity, and absolutely no need for it. There was no reason to worry about her appearance simply because a man happened to be in residence, even if he was undeniably handsome and made her heart turn over when he smiled at her. Victoria already was overdue in meeting with the head cook to go over the next week’s menus. By the time she was finished with that, the luncheon would be ready to serve.

It would not be polite to keep either the servants or Mr. Jedidiah McBride waiting. She felt a strange fluttering in her belly at the thought of seeing him again. Her immediate attempts to still the sensation were not as successful as she would have wished.

‘Victoria was just giving the cook one final suggestion for a change in menu when there was a knock on the drawing room door. She called out, “Enter,” then turned to finish what she had been saying as one of the footmen came into the room. “Beef on Tuesday, I think, Mrs. Everard, rather than the usual chicken.” Something about Jedidiah McBride told her he was a man who preferred beef to chicken.

The cook looked at her mistress in obvious surprise. “Beef on Tuesday, my lady?”

Victoria was aware that they had been eating chicken on Tuesdays for as long as she could recall. “As I’m sure you are aware, my cousin from America is visiting us. I wish to make him comfortable and content while he is here. His visit comes as a welcome surprise to me. Who would have thought that Great-uncle Lionel’s grandson would make an appearance here in England. For years no one had any clue as to what had become of the family adventurer.”

Mrs. Everard smiled at her mistress with the proper mixture of fondness and deference. “It is a true wonder, and very good to see that you have family again.” The cook lowered her blue eyes and nodded her gray head. “I will see that there is a nice roast laid on that day.”

Victoria nodded in return, glad to have the housekeeper accept her explanation for Jedidiah McBride’s presence so readily. She could only hope it would go so well once they began to introduce him to society. “Thank you, Mrs. Everard. You are, as ever, most accommodating. Also, I wish to inform you that there will be no need to prepare a menu list for the next week. We will be going to the London house to attend some of the events of the season.”

The head cook curtsied and turned to go with a selfsatisfied smile at the compliment. Victoria halted her. “One last thing, Mrs. Everard.”

The robust woman swung back to face her. “Yes, my lady.”

“Coffee.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“My cousin prefers coffee to tea. I would appreciate your seeing that he has some of that beverage each morning.”

Another curtsy. “As you wish, my lady.” She left the room.

Victoria then turned to the footman. “Yes, Charles?”

“I have been sent to inform you that Miss Mary has arrived.”

Victoria made a soft noise of surprise even as she stood and hurried across the room to the door, which the footman opened for her. She had forgotten having asked Mary to lunch with her. Which, she told herself, was not completely irresponsible of her, considering the events of the past twelve hours.

Should she tell Mary the sea captain’s true identity? Not since they’d become friends as children had Victoria kept any secret from her.

Hurrying across the foyer to where her best and only true friend awaited her, Victoria held out her hands. “Mary, how good it is to see you. How is your father?” She studied her friend with true concern. There were faint shadows beneath her golden-brown eyes, and Mary sighed as she removed her straw bonnet and ran a hand over her goldstreaked brown hair. The hat was prettily decorated with dried flowers from her garden, and was simple in design, as Mary preferred things to be. She wore no hoop beneath her dark blue skirts, having told Victoria that she had no use for such conceits when the device made its appearance the previous year. She felt it did not offer her enough freedom in her walks across the moors, but there was little of the accustomed energy in Mary’s movements as she turned back to her friend.

Victoria knew that the reverend’s illness was beginning to take its toll on his daughter, though she would never complain. Mary’s unstinting devotion to the sick man was one of the very reasons she insisted on having her friend to luncheon on a regular basis. Knowing how important this weekly outing was to Mary’s well-being made Victoria flush with shame at having forgotten it.

Victoria tried not to show how flustered she felt as she listened to Mary, who replied with sad resignation. “Father is the same. Mrs. Withers was good enough to agree to sit with him for a few hours so I could come.” She paused, studying Victoria with those unwaveringly direct golden eyes of hers, then said, “Why, Victoria, you had forgotten I was coming.” As ever, she had been able to read her mind. Her tone was more amused than upset, effectively alleviating some of Victoria’s remorse.

Despite her troubled preoccupation with Jedidiah McBride, Victoria gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I am afraid you have me there.”

Mary’s father was the vicar of the church in Carlisle, and a very learned scholar. Victoria had gone to him for lessons for years, and Mary had been present at those lessons. The bond that had been forged from the first day at the age of six was stronger than iron. Under no circumstances could Victoria keep a secret from her, and that included the truth about Jedidiah McBride’s identity.

Mary was the one person with whom she must not stand on ceremony, which made Victoria cherish their friendship all the more. Even after the decision to tell all was made, Victoria felt an unexpected sense of shyness at the idea of speaking of Jedidiah to her friend.

Not wishing to question the cause of this feeling, she leaned close to the slightly shorter Mary. “I have so much to tell you.”

Even as Mary’s eyes widened, displaying her obvious curiosity at her friend’s words, Victoria took her arm and pulled her into the library. After first making sure it was vacant, she pushed the other woman down into one of the leather chairs that sat before the lacquered desk.

Victoria remained standing, feeling too agitated to sit. She only hoped that Mary would not think she had gone mad. In spite of her self-professed disregard for propriety and convention, Mary was quite levelheaded, and Victoria very much respected her opinions on all matters.

As Victoria began her story, Mary settled back in her seat to listen. Only when the attempted kidnapping was mentioned did she make any sound, interrupting with a gasp. “Victoria, how can you stand there so calmly and tell me this? Have you called the law?”

Victoria shook her head. “No, but really, there was no need. You do not know Reginald Cox, but believe me, he is a coward of the worst order. The only reason I have any kind of acquaintance with him is that his mother and mine were friends as girls. When we were children, he sometimes visited Briarwood with her.”

When Mary opened her mouth as if to say more, Victoria stopped her with a raised hand. “If you’ll allow me to finish, you’ll understand why he is no threat to me.” The woman subsided, folding her hands in her lap, though she appeared no less concerned.

The horrified expression on her face was soon replaced with satisfaction when Victoria went on to tell of her unexpected rescue by the sea captain, Jedidiah McBride. As she continued to describe the events that had taken place since that fateful meeting, Mary began to smile.

Only when Victoria had finished did she speak. “My, Victoria, but you are a dark horse.”

Victoria frowned at her. “And what do you mean by that? It seemed like the most natural solution to ask him to be my protector. He had already proven himself quite capable, and he did have need of my help in return.”

Mary shook her head, eyeing her friend closely. “That is not what I mean, and you know it. What I mean is that you are attracted to him.”

Far too quickly, Victoria reacted. “I am not.” But she knew that the words were a waste of time for she had never been able to hide anything from the other woman. The truth was that she did find him quite handsome, but there was no more to it than that. “Well, not in the way you think. Besides, it wouldn’t matter even if I was. He has quite a dislike for any person of high rank or social position.”

Mary was thoughtful, her finger worrying her full lower lip. “I wonder why? You say he is well-spoken and has a gentleman’s understanding of good manners.”

Victoria perched on the edge of the other chair. “He did inadvertently tell me something that makes me think this woman, this Nina, rejected him because she felt he was beneath her. Yet I think there might be something more, something he doesn’t want to disclose.”

“It seems there is some mystery to this man, this handsome paragon of bravery and intellect,” Mary said. “I can hardly wait to see him for myself.”

A blush stained Victoria’s cheeks. Had she really described Jedidiah that way? No wonder Mary had come to the conclusion that she was attracted to him.

At that moment, the bell sounded to announce the midday meal. “Heavens!” she cried. Standing, she took Mary’s hand. “There is no more time to discuss it. You’ll be seeing for yourself in a few moments.”

“I am most anxious to do so,” Mary said, her golden eyes growing brighter with curiosity and anticipation as she followed her friend from the library.

Victoria paused outside the small dining room, smoothing her hands over her full skirts and taking a deep breath. As she looked at Mary, Victoria saw the expectant expression on her pretty face and could not help wondering what she would make of the American. Clearly her friend was willing to keep an open mind so far. If she thought him anything but the decent man Victoria believed him to be, the vicar’s daughter would not hide it.

She realized she could not put off the moment any longer, knowing the man was very likely waiting for them. But she could not help interjecting a note of warning. “Not a word, now, until we are alone. Then you can feel free to say whatever you like about him.”

With a frown of consternation, Mary answered her, “But of course, Victoria. Am I not the soul of propriety?” Only the sparkle in her golden eyes gave away her amusement.

Victoria would not be drawn. She was far too nervous.

On entering the cheerful room, with its bright yellow walls and dark walnut furnishings, Victoria saw that Jedidiah was just coming through the door opposite them. He paused in seeming surprise on seeing Mary standing there beside her, then greeted them both with a slight bow. “Ladies.”

“Mr. McBride,” Victoria responded, feeling decidedly disturbed at the way her heart thudded at the sight of him. It really was quite silly of her to react so every time she saw the sea captain. She also knew she could not allow her interest to show in the slightest of ways without Mary taking note of it.

Victoria turned to her friend, purposefully keeping her tone cool. “May I present my guest, Mr. Jedidiah McBride?” She then turned to face him. “Mr. McBride, my dear friend Miss Mary Fulton.”

He bowed again, with a show of elegant manners that would have given any nobleman cause for pride. “How do you do, Miss Fulton? I am very pleased to meet you.”

Victoria watched Jedidiah McBride with scrutinizing eyes. She was beginning to realize that there was more to the man than he had alluded to. Last night he had been a gallant soldier rescuing her in the darkness; this morning he was a stubborn man holding his disdain for the social elite before him like a proud flag. And now, meeting Mary, he appeared the consummate gentleman.

Which man was the true Jedidiah McBride? Perhaps all. And that, Victoria realized, made him even more fascinating.

Glancing at her, Victoria saw that Mary was staring at the sea captain with her mouth agape. She gave her lovely friend a surreptitious nudge.

Mary immediately recovered herself enough to form an equally formal rejoinder. “As am I… Mr. McBride.” The brief glance she cast toward Victoria from the corner of her eye told the taller woman that she would indeed have much to say when they were alone.

Victoria motioned self-consciously toward the table, which had been laid with her grandmother’s favorite silver and the Dresden china. “Please, won’t you sit down?” She went to the head of the table.

Even as Mary took the seat to her left, Victoria could feel her penetrating gaze. Victoria deliberately trained her attention on Jedidiah. Facing him proved only slightly less uncomfortable than facing Mary. He was watching her with that one mocking brow arched over his right eye.

For some reason, Victoria had the distinct feeling that he was aware of her discomfort with the situation and was amused by it. That prickled, and she raised her chin in regal defiance.

No matter how uncomfortable this meal became, she would not allow Jedidiah McBride to get the best of her. Or, at least, she amended as he smiled and her heart skipped in response, she would not allow him to know that he had.

Jedidiah studied the two women while trying to appear not to. Victoria appeared to be completely occupied with filling her plate from the silver dishes that were presented to each of them in turn. The one Victoria had introduced as Mary seemed equally interested in him.

She smiled at him openly when she caught him glancing her way, and he could not help smiling in return. There was something very refreshing about the pretty woman, with her golden-brown hair and her eyes the color of a chunk of African amber he had once seen. There seemed not the slightest hint of artifice or pretension in her. “So, Mr. McBride,” she began without hesitation, her curiosity apparent. “How long have you been in England?”

Taking a sip of the wine that had been poured into the crystal glass in front of him, Jed smiled. “Two days.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I wonder, is it very different from where you are from?”

He could feel Victoria’s gaze upon him as he answered, “I am not really from anywhere. I live on my ship, the Summerwind. You could say that I am based out of Bridgeport, Connecticut. That is where our shipping firm, Cook and McBride, is located.”

“Our?” she asked.

Jed scowled. He wasn’t sure now that he wanted to answer all these questions, didn’t want this situation to become personal. He glanced over at Victoria, and the way she was watching him made him wonder if she knew of his reluctance to talk about himself.

“Well?” Mary prodded unashamedly.

Jed told himself it didn’t matter if they knew some things about him. It wouldn’t really change anything. He and Victoria Thorn had a business arrangement, but he continued to be aware of her intent gaze as he went on. “‘Our’ refers to myself and my partner Peter Cook. His father, Sebastian, was the founder of Cook Shipbuilding. I… When I was eighteen, I went to work for them in the factory. As the years passed, the firm wasn’t doing well. The type of vessel they were producing was being phased out by the advent of the steamship. I, well…I came up with a design that Sebastian claimed brought them out of the red. It was a sailing ship with a large hold, but a narrower hull that increased its speed. When Sebastian died…” He hesitated for a moment as he thought of the kindness of the man and how good he had been to him. “When he died, he was generous enough to leave me a half interest in the business.”

Mary watched him with round eyes. “You relate it all so modestly Mr. McBride. Surely you are quite brilliant to have come up with such a design. How proud you must be.”

Jed could not restrain a satisfied nod as he thought of the ships. “Those ships are beauties, all right. Peter and I own the first two of that model, the Summerwind and her sister, the Winterwind.” Building those ships, having Sebastian and his family accept him, those things had changed Jed’s life. Yet he’d never quite gotten over feeling as if he were an interloper, no matter how they behaved differently.

And the Cooks had come to accept him on his terms, understanding that he could not allow himself to come too close to anyone. That would all change now that he had a son. His child would be the recipient of the love he had kept locked inside himself.

He looked up then, with a self-conscious expression, feeling as if he had already given away too much. “Enough about me, Miss Fulton. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” He smiled at her with as much charm as he could summon up.

He was surprised to hear her laugh. “Why, Mr. McBride, are you trying to change the subject?”

This time he could not restrain a genuine grin. “Yes, Miss Fulton, I am.”

Her eyes sparkled as she replied. “Then I shall allow you to do so.”

His gaze went to Victoria, who had said nothing throughout the exchange, simply listening with avid interest. When their gazes met, she flushed and turned her attention to her meal. As he looked at her, he realized that though he found Mary Fulton quite attractive, with her delicate features and direct gaze, she seemed somehow to fade next to the regal beauty of Victoria Thorn. This realization did not please Jed in the least.

He had no desire to find Victoria Thorn exceptional in any way. It was sheer madness on his part to do so. She represented everything he disdained, extreme wealth and social position, not to mention her titled status.

Yet he cast a surreptitious glance from her to Mary Fulton and back. Did the fact that this refreshing woman was Victoria’s friend say something about her? Something that gave lie to his beliefs?

This very morning, she had told him that not all aristocrats were the same. That they were both good and bad, like anyone else.

Jed gave himself a mental shake as he turned his attention to the roast pheasant on his plate. What Victoria said might have some validity where she was concerned, but he did not think for a moment that she was being truly honest with herself as far as her peers were concerned. The power and privilege of their circumstances held them above reproach.

And God help those who had not been born to that same lofty state. Or those who had been cast out for some perceived offense against the rules of society. Cast out and forgotten, no matter how young and foolish they might have been.

As his mother had been by her own family when she had fallen in love with and married his father.

Chapter Four

Victoria was apprised of Mr. Randsome’s arrival later that afternoon. She thanked the maid who came to inform her and sent her to fetch Jedidiah.

She hadn’t seen him since luncheon, when he had chatted so amiably with Mary. Jedidiah had been far less cryptic and jealous of his privacy than he appeared to be with her. Victoria was sure she would never have learned so much about him if Mary had not arrived for luncheon. He’d even come to the door with them when the vicar’s daughter left.

What she did not know was why this bothered her so much. Apparently without even trying, Jedidiah McBride was driving her to distraction. One moment he could be intractable and stubborn. The next he could be charming and attentive, as he had proved himself to be with Mary over the midday meal.

Victoria did not know when she had last heard her friend laugh so much, which of course was very welcome, considering the strain she was under, caring for her father. The reverend was not expected to recover from the consumption that had ravaged his once robust frame, and Mary worked tirelessly to keep him comfortable.

Why, then, did Victoria not feel more cheery?

Squaring her slender shoulders in preparation for the coming meeting with Jedidiah McBride, Victoria went directly to the green drawing room, where the tailor and an employee were waiting.

Mr. Randsome’s assistant had already taken the opportunity to lay out several lengths of fine fabric. They ranged in color from a subdued buff to a deep, vibrant blue. Victoria eyed the royal blue with a frown. For their purpose, she felt, it would be best that Jedidiah dress as conservatively as possible. They had no wish to draw too much attention to the sea captain. She very much hoped the stubborn man would not be bent on having the blue.

The very man she was thinking so uncharitably of made his appearance only a few moments later. Every time she saw him, Victoria was struck by his sheer masculine presence. He walked into every room as if he belonged there and was ready to take control of any situation. As before, Victoria found herself thinking how well his captain’s garb suited him. The snug-fitting black breeches hugged his lean hips, and the loosely cut black coat, with its gold buttons, gave him the freedom to move with that untamed grace that was so much a part of him.

As Jedidiah strode toward them, Victoria watched the tailor to gauge his reaction to the sea captain. If Mr. Rapdsome thought there was anything amiss with Jedidiah’s appearance, he made no comment. The only evidence of his curiosity was one raised brow as he seemed to size up the younger man.

When Jedidiah stopped before them, looking at the many bolts of fabric with a decided frown, she said hurriedly, “Mr…. Cousin Jedidiah, this is Mr. Randsome. As I told you, he was my own father’s tailor. I am sure he can be of assistance to you.”

She turned to the tailor with a smile. “Mr. McBride is my cousin from America.”

“America?” The older man looked to Jedidiah in obvious surprise.

“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “It is a well-known fact that my Great-uncle Lionel went to America in search of adventure.” She turned to Jedidiah with a forced smile. “My cousin has journeyed all this way to find his family. I hope he is not too disappointed at discovering that I am the only remaining Thorn.”

Jedidiah answered quickly, his gaze catching hers with an expression she could not name. “Not at all, Cousin… ‘Victoria.” Her name on his lips had a strangely intimate sound that she had not expected and left her feeling somewhat vulnerable.

She dragged her eyes from his and looked to the tailor once more. “My… cousin will need some new things. You see, we are going up to London for what remains of the season. I am most anxious to introduce him to society.”

Jedidiah made a soft noise that sounded like a choking cough, and Victoria had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her. And for some unexplainable reason she felt like joining him, though the feeling stemmed more from nervousness than from actual amusement. She could hardly believe herself, standing here lying as if she’d been born to it.

But it must be done. She’d known that from the beginning.

“I see.” Mr. Randsome nodded quickly, though he continued to watch Jedidiah with poorly concealed interest. “I’m sure I can help you with whatever you might require.” He gestured around them as he focused his attention on Victoria. “Your message said to bring some samples of cloth that would be suitable for a gentleman’s garments. I hope these meet with your approval.” He turned to Jedidiah and bowed politely, making a better show of containing his curiosity. “And yours, sir.”

Victoria replied with equal civility, though she could feel the force of Jedidiah’s resistance. Clearly he was still not happy with the notion of purchasing clothing to wear in London. Yet something told Victoria he would not admit to this. Jedidiah McBride seemed a man of his word, and he had agreed to do this. It would be done.

As if he had read her mind, the American came farther into the room, his features set with determination.

The next few minutes passed in surprising tranquillity. Victoria did not try to lead Jedidiah in his choice of fabric. He just seemed to prefer the more subdued colors himself.

In point of fact, he chose only dark colors when he began. It was Mr. Randsome who suggested some of the lighter tones, to add contrast to his new garments.

Jedidiah seemed uncharacteristically content to follow the older man’s lead. Only a short time had passed before they began choosing specific cuts of jackets and trousers from the sketches Mr. Randsome and his assistant had brought with them.

Victoria was beginning to feel she did not have to be there at all. There was other work she was neglecting. Still, she stayed on in case she was needed. Not because she liked seeing Jedidiah relaxed and as at ease as he seemed now with Mr. Randsome. Not because she liked the deep sound of his voice as he talked. Not because of the way the light gilded his hair every time he passed in front of the tall windows.

It was not until the tailor began to speak of the quantity of coats and other clothing that Jedidiah balked, shaking his head. “I will not require so many coats, nor—”

She interrupted, addressing Mr. Randsome directly. “We will take all of those items you mentioned, and a riding jacket of the dark gray, as well.”

The American swung around to Victoria with a forbidding scowl. “Do you realize that you have ordered fifteen coats in all?”

Victoria turned from speaking to Mr. Randsome, with a frown of her own. The very fact that she had been surprised by his ready compliance with everything thus far had left Victoria somewhat prepared for this reaction.

Yet she could not help feeling frustrated by it. She had no wish to discuss this in front of the tailor. She tried to answer with careful courtesy. “Yes, of course, Mr…. Cousin.”

He shook his head. “That is too many.”

Victoria could feel the interest of both Mr. Randsome and his assistant. She moved closer to Jedidiah, telling herself that he was likely very pleased to have found something to disagree with her about. She answered him through tight lips. “Please, Cousin, might we discuss this later?” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

Jedidiah McBride paid her signals no heed. He only looked down at her with clear disapproval, his own brows raised in reaction to her expression. “I will not have it, Lady Victoria.”

She forgot the other two men, in her amazement at those words. Victoria was not in the least accustomed to being spoken to that way. She sucked in a deep breath, raising her chin. “You… you will not have it.”

To her utter stupefaction, his reaction was to take her by the arm as he addressed the two men. “Excuse us for just a moment.” Jedidiah then half pulled her to the other side of the room, next to one of the tall windows. So shocked was she that Victoria made no effort to resist him.

But as soon as they came to a stop with the long brocade drape partially blocking her view of the room, she recovered herself enough to jerk her arm from his grasp. “How dare you!”

He stared down at her in abject surprise. “How dare I?”

She resisted the urge to rub the spot where his fingers had held her. “You are not to lay your hands upon me again.”

Jedidiah had the grace to appear chagrined. “I…” His lips thinned, and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was clear that it cost him dear to admit, “You are right, I had no reason to grab your arm. I only wanted you to listen to me.”

Now that Jedidiah seemed to have found his right mind once more, Victoria, too, began to calm down. As she looked up at him and into his stormy green eyes, she realized that she was not really angry. In fact, what she was feeling was a very different emotion. One she would not even hazard to try to name. The tightness in her breast, the thumping of her heart and the quickening of her breathing were all clear signs of this unknown emotion.

It was quite unusual for anyone to even dare raise his voice to her, let alone physically lead her about. Jedidiah had not actually hurt her, and for some reason his resistance only gave her a stronger sense of respect for him. Her position meant nothing to the tall, lean man. He thought of her as nothing more than a woman who had driven him to the point of forgetting himself.

Victoria could not help liking the notion of being thought of as a woman. For was she not just that?

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, her gaze grazing the lean line of his jaw, the irate curve of his supple lips, his straight nose, those stormy green eyes. He really was very handsome, this proud sea captain of hers. She stopped herself, glancing away from him even as the words formed in her mind. Jedidiah was not now, nor would he ever be, hers.

Victoria’s gaze came to rest on Mr. Randsome’s assistant, who was now openly peering at them from across the room. Dear heaven, but they were making a spectacle of themselves.

Chancing another glance up at Jedidiah from beneath her dark lashes, she saw that he, too, had noticed how the other men were staring. He scowled with chagrin.

Biting her lip, Victoria took a deep breath before whispering, “Mr. McBride, I realize that it might appear as if I am being overly extravagant.” Her gaze locked on his, her eyes pleading with him to heed her. “I assure you that I am not. When we go to London, we will be attending many social gatherings. It is the only way I am to meet a man so that I may marry. It is equally important for you to accompany me in order to search for your child. You do recall that those reasons are why you are here? Why we are going?” She halted, feeling unexpectedly cheerless at the idea of her future marriage. A fact that puzzled her greatly, for it was unlike Victoria to bemoan her fate once she had accepted it.

She brushed the thoughts aside, concentrating on the moment as she willed Jedidiah to see her position. “You must have the proper clothing to take me to these social gatherings. It would not do for you to be seen in the same coat day after day, or even from morning to evening. Have you forgotten you are my cousin? You must appear to be so in all things, in order to remain in my household without the benefit of some other chaperon. It is absolutely necessary for everyone to accept you as who we say you are.”

He continued to stare down at her, but Victoria could see the wavering in his eyes. Then, as he stood there, a strange sort of light came into those compelling eyes, and for a heart-stopping moment, Victoria nearly forgot that they weren’t alone.

He smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “Very well, then… Victoria.”

It took her a moment to realize that this was the second time he had called her by her Christian name. It was even more intimate in tone when he said it so deliberately. No one besides Mary called her Victoria.

Then she was distracted by that light that was still there in his eyes. She pursed her lips, wondering what had brought it on. He answered her unspoken question mockingly. “I suggest that you call me Jed, even when we are alone. That is what I usually go by.”

She blushed. Really, he was going too far. The nickname was just too familiar, especially without the appellation “cousin” to formalize it. And there was no need, when no one was around to hear them. “I could not—”

He stopped her with a raised hand. “Haven’t you just said that I am to appear to be your cousin? That we can’t do anything to make anyone doubt I am what you tell them I am?”

She frowned, feeling as if she had just stepped into quicksand. “Yes, but—”

He interrupted again, though politely. “Please, excuse me. Do you really think people will be convinced that I am your cousin if you go around calling me Mr. McBride, which you do most of the time? It’s just a bit formal for such a close family tie. If you call me by my given name all the time, perhaps you’ll begin to remember.”

She bit her lip, realizing that he had her there. She really could not call him Mr. McBride. It would cause comment. But then, neither could she bring herself to call him Jed.

She could tell from the expression on his face that Jedidiah McBride felt he had found at least a small way of getting back at her for all the indignities he felt he was suffering at her hands. Victoria would not allow him to best her so easily. She smiled, and had the pleasure of seeing a trace of unease creep on to his face. “Very well, Cousin Jedidiah. You make a very valid point. We must learn to address one another less formally.”

He scowled down at her. “I prefer Jed.”

She raised her chin. “As I said, Cousin Jedidiah.” She then turned and moved across the room to the tailor and his assistant.

Jed watched Victoria with a pained expression as she flounced away from him, that slender backside of hers having the same effect on him that a rudely protruding tongue would have produced. Damn, but she was one stubborn woman.

He heard her telling Mr. Randsome he could make up everything they had discussed. Looking extremely pleased, the tailor hastily began to gather up his goods, as though he feared Jed might countermand her if he lingered. As he did so, the lady added, “And do remember that there will be a bonus for every garment that is ready by the beginning of next week. Anything that is finished after that should be sent directly to the London house.”

“Very good, my lady.” The tailor bowed.

Jed turned to look out the tall, narrow window, no longer interested in the exchange. He did not want to think about Victoria or his having given in to her. He did not want to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised to learn that the tailor had talked of elegant but conservative fabrics and clothing. The garments would be fashionable, but comfortable for Jed to wear.

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