"No, but you might have offered more explanation!"

Of course she might have, and she really wasn't sure why she hadn't, other than the things Greer had said about Middleton and Lady Purnam's edict rambling about her head. "I beg your pardon, Lady Purnam, but you told me-"

"Dear G.o.d," Lady Purnam said, fanning herself so violently that it was a wonder the feathers in her hair didn't take flight. "It is exactly as I told your mother-you can be entirely too obtuse at times, Ava. Yes indeed, I told you not to be so carelessly personal with the gentlemen in this room, but I did not intend for you to insult the Marquis of Middleton!"

"I did nothing to insult him!" Ava protested. "At least I didn't mean to insult him. Honestly, I would have preferred to dance with him, to kick my shoes off and dance, but you quite clearly told me I could not."

"Oh!" Lady Purnam said with much exasperation. "You know very well what I meant! As I live and breathe," she sighed irritably. "To have witnessed your tragic dismissal of a fine lord, one who is unquestionably the best catch in all of London-Have you any idea of his fortune?"

No, but Lady Purnam would enlighten her, Ava was very certain. Before she did so, however, Ava saw her opportunity in this so-called tragedy. "Now will you allow your carriage to take me home? I cannot possibly bear to see him again after my gaffe," she insisted.

"Yes, dear, do go home at once and tell your mother what you did, and hope for your sake that she can see a way to repair it, for I certainly cannot!" she said, signaling a footman.

Ava would indeed go home and tell her mother. In fact, she couldn't wait to tell her mother that while Lady Purnam might be her dearest friend, she was far too easily excited by the smallest things. She had not insulted Middleton. She simply had refused to fall at his feet just because he'd tried to seduce her with a smile. Admittedly, it was a knee-shaking smile, but that was neither here nor there.

And so it was, a quarter of an hour later that, having announced to Phoebe and Greer that Lady Purnam was sending her home in the coach, Ava stood in the foyer, her cloak gathered tightly about her, waiting for the footman to return and tell her that Lady Purnam's new barouche had been brought round.

The footman entered the foyer a moment later, along with a cold gust of wind that hit Ava squarely in the face. "Weather's taken a turn, milady," the footman said apologetically. "Unusual for this time of year."

"So it is," Ava said, and peered out. There were no fewer than three crested carriages in front of the house, all of them shiny testaments to the caliber of guest Lady Fontaine had in her house.

Unfortunately, Lady Purnam's grand new carriage looked exactly like the other two, save the crest, and for the life of her, Ava could not remember the Purnam crest.

"Which one is Lady Purnam's?" she asked.

"That one there," the footman said, pointing to the three carriages. "The one with the bird in its crest."

"Oh, yes, of course," Ava mumbled, and took an uncertain step outside. The sleet had turned to snow, and fat, wet flakes were making it very hard to see.

Another footman appeared holding a lantern high. "Milady," he said, indicating she should come now.

Ava stepped out and hurried forward as best she could with her broken shoe. As they neared the carriages, a coachman swung down from the bench of the first carriage to open the door. Ava had only a moment to see the crest, but she saw an eagle carrying a branch in its talons. The coachman held his hand out to Ava, which she took and quickly ducked inside, landing on a thickly padded velvet squab, the same deep red color of the silk covered walls. The shades-likewise made of silk-were drawn.

"There's a rug beneath the seat, milady," the coachman said hurriedly, and shut the door, obviously anxious to be under his pelts and leaving her in total darkness in his haste.

"Drat," Ava muttered, and bent over to find the lap rug when she heard men's voices calling out and the carriage suddenly lurched forward, pitching Ava off balance. She put a hand out to the bench opposite to steady herself, but instead of touching velvet, she touched a living, breathing thing.

With a shriek, Ava shot up, flinging herself back against the squabs at the same moment the flare of a match lit the interior of the carriage and illuminated the Marquis of Middleton. She gasped loudly and for the air she needed to breathe; he was stretched across the opposite bench, his shoulder against the silk wall, one foot planted firmly on the floor of the coach, but one leg c.o.c.ked at the knee, his foot perched irreverently on the velvet squab as he reached up and lit the interior lamp.

It took another moment for Ava to find her voice. "What...what are you doing in Lady Purnam's carriage?" she asked, pressing a hand to her rapidly beating heart.

"I'm not in Lady Purnam's carriage. I'm in my carriage."

How slowly the meaning of those words penetrated her consciousness. After what seemed like minutes, Ava finally realized she was in the wrong carriage. "Oh my G.o.d," she exclaimed, mortified, and instantly moved for the door-but Middleton stopped her with a well-placed boot to the handle of the same door.

"If you have stolen inside my coach to apologize for delivering a direct cut to me in front of all of London, I accept."

She blinked. "I didn't come to apologize." Middleton lifted a brow. "Dear G.o.d," she muttered. "My lord, I have made a horrible mistake."

He smiled smugly.

"I mean that I was to be in Lady Purnam's carriage and the footman said there was a bird in the crest, but as I hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to Lady Purnam's crest I was uncertain about any bird until I saw the eagle..." she said, gesturing vaguely to the door of his coach. "Although now I seem to remember a nightingale..." She shook her head, unclear about what she remembered. "I have broken my shoe," she added quickly, sliding her foot out for him to see.

He glanced down at her foot.

"And Lady Purnam said that her carriage would see me home. So you see it's all a very unfortunate mistake."

"Very," he said low as his dark gaze skated over her to the hem of her gown and back.

Ava swallowed hard. The coach lurched again, only this time, it kept moving. "Oh dear," she said,gripping the squabs. "Will you please have your driver stop so that I may step out?"

He said nothing, but remained there, sprawled carelessly on the bench, his foot braced against the door handle.

"My lord-"

"Appease my curiosity, will you? Why did you cut me?" he asked idly. "Have I harmed you in some way? Displeased you? Ignored you?"

Ava opened her mouth to a.s.sure him he had not, but she was struck with the notion that he was, incredibly, wounded by her refusal. Lord Middleton, who had scads of women flinging themselves at his coattails whenever he walked by, was wounded because she had refused to dance with him.

She wanted to savor that thought, but the coach was picking up speed, and suddenly all she could think of was what Greer had said about him. She lunged again for the door, but Middleton steadfastly refused to move his boot. "Do you intend to jump from a moving carriage?"

"If I must," she said firmly. "I am to be in Lady Purnam's carriage."

"First you refuse to stand up with me before the ton, and now you would jump from a moving carriage.

Lady Ava, I am beginning to believe you do not esteem my good company."

"I do not know you, my lord, so I have no opinion of your company, either good or bad. This is not what you must think."

"No? Then what exactly is it?"

"My shoe is quite broken, as I showed you. I couldn't possibly dance."

"Why did you not merely say so?"

He had her there. She couldn't confess it was because Lady Purnam had decreed that she should not, or that she knew of his reputation...or that there was something strangely empowering in eliciting his displeasure. "I suppose I thought a polite decline was all that was necessary," she said pertly. "Now will you please have your driver stop?"

"I wouldn't advise it," he said, almost cheerfully. "I reckon hordes of Lady Fontaine's guests saw you cut me in the ballroom. Now I reckon hordes more are standing under the portico watching the snow fall and wondering together if they should leave now before the roads become impa.s.sable. Imagine the endless speculation were they to see you vault from my carriage with your maidenly virtue scarcely intact and run for Lady Purnam's coach."

Oh dear G.o.d, he was right. Ava bit her lip and glanced at the door. When she turned her gaze to him again, Middleton was smiling with an expression that was entirely too self-satisfied.

He was enjoying the scandalous lies that were certainly being spread at this very moment, the roue. "Ishall, of course, take you home at once," he said, graciously inclining his head. "To protect your chastereputation."

The way he said it made her think that he had in mind the exact opposite. Lord in heaven, she could imagine what Lord Downey or her mother would say! Undoubtedly, they would have expected her to

remove herself from his carriage by now.

"Or perhaps the crowds will be gone by the time we have circled Hyde Park," he suggested. "And then you will be quite safe in changing coaches."

"Hyde Park?" she echoed weakly.

He grinned wolfishly. "I do beg your pardon, Lady Ava, but I was expecting someone else. My driverwasn't told there'd be two handsome callers."Her face flushed hot, but at the same time, Ava felt a shiver of antic.i.p.ation.Or perhaps it was fear.Honestly, she wasn't quite certain what she felt, really, other than an overwhelming curiosity that collided with foolishness as all the dangerous, devilish things she'd ever heard about Middleton crowded into her

brain.

And then he picked up the edge of her cloak as casually as he might pick up his own and rubbed it between his fingers. "Have you a direction? Or do you intend to come home with me?" he asked, watching her.

Heat flooded her face again. "Fourteen Clifford Street. Thank you."

He smiled as if he'd expected her to give in and reached up, opened the small door beneath the driver'sseat that allowed him to communicate, and said, "Fourteen Clifford Street."Ava smiled thinly, clasped her hands tightly in her lap.He shut the trap and then suddenly sat upright, boxing her legs between his. In fact, his legs were so close to hers that she squeezed hers together and rearranged her skirts so there was no danger of their

touching.

The skin around his eyes crinkled with a smile and he leaned forward, looking into her eyes. "Do you want to know why I think you declined my invitation to dance?"

No. Yes. No, no-"Why?"

"Because you meant to trifle with me. You do like to flirt, do you not, Lady Ava? You enjoy being a bit of a coquette, hmm?"

She choked on a small laugh of surprise. This man, possibly the most sought after man in all of England,

believed she had declined to dance so that she might flirt with him? It was apparent that his ego was aslarge as it was fragile, and that knowledge put her on solid footing. "I suppose I do flirt a bit...with somepeople," she said, smiling.

"Which people?"She shrugged. "Friends.""But not me, is that what you would imply?""Oh no, not you."

"Why not?""Because...were I to flirt with you, my lord, I have no doubt you would presume a better acquaintance."He chuckled a little and leaned in closer. "Would I indeed?"Ava shifted backward, away from the pull of his smile. "Of course you would. You are far too accustomed to flirting with the gentler s.e.x in her entirety...if one can believe what is printed in thenewspaper or whispered in drawing rooms. My unfavorable response would surely disappoint you.""And you have this from the gentler s.e.x in her entirety, eh?" He chuckled. "That's rather a lot, isn't it?""Not in her entirety, for you cannot count me in that number."

He smiled as if they played some sort of game. "Is my reputation as randy as all that?"His dark hazel eyes, she decided, were the very color of the hills in autumn around Bingley Hall, whereshe'd spent her childhood. Quite attractive eyes, really. "I think you are being coy, sir. I suspect youknow your reputation far better than I could ever hope to know it."

His grin broadened and he inclined his head. "All right, I will concede that point. But I should like toknow-if it is true I have such an effect on the gentler s.e.x in all her entirety...then why aren't youcounted in that number?"

"I suppose I prefer the admiration to be bestowed upon me...as opposed to being the one who must bestow the admiration."

He laughed; the rich, deep timbre of it gave Ava another little shiver of delight. "How very rich and how very honest of you."

"I am indeed honest, my lord.""Then I must bestow my admiration on you, Lady Ava, so that you will not cut me so openly again. Butfirst you must tell me," he said, leaning forward again, his face only inches from hers, "how do you preferto receive your admiration?"

"I beg your pardon?"

He leaned even closer, so that now Ava could see the curl of his dark lashes as his eyes casually took in her features. "Do you prefer to be admired in word...or in deed?" The question, posed with such a sinfully delicious smile, caused her pulse to quicken, and Ava sank back into the squabs, regretting her brash flirting. "I can't possibly know what you mean."

Middleton playfully b.u.mped her knee with his. "Now who is being coy?"

Before she could respond, before she could even think of a response, Middleton suddenly moved forward, close enough to kiss her. Ava reflexively gasped with surprise, to which he gave her a boyish smile as his gaze dipped to her lips and caused her belly to sink a little.

"I did not hear your honest answer, madam. Do you prefer your admiration in word...or in deed?"

Her body was melting ahead of her brain. She could certainly understand why women fell under the man' s spell-those eyes were overpowering and the smile on his lips was so alluring that she feared she might very well expose herself to any number of potential scandals, right here, right now.

She looked at his mouth, but found no relief there, and madly wondered if he did indeed intend to kiss her. A kiss from Middleton! There was only one way to achieve such dizzying heights of trifling sport, wasn't there? "In deed," she said in a near whisper, then caught her breath and held it.

"Good girl," he muttered, and moved until his lips were just a hairsbreadth from hers. He hovered there, and Ava prepared herself to be kissed by lifting her chin slightly.

But the man surprised her by licking her lips, and he could not have been more sensuous in doing so.

With the tip of his tongue, he traced a slow path across the seam of her lips. Ava froze. It was the most sensual, decadent thing anyone had ever done to her, and it was so deeply stirring that she inadvertently released a small sigh of pleasure when he'd done it.

When she did, he lifted his hand to her jaw and gently angled her head just so, catching the sigh with his mouth as it pa.s.sed through her lips. He drew her bottom lip lightly between his teeth and teased her body forward by slipping his free hand to the small of her back, persuading her forward while his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She felt as if she were falling toward him. She let him draw her into his embrace, opening her mouth to him, finding his waist with her hand. He was kissing her so thoroughly that she began to feel uncomfortably hot in her cloak, and with her free hand, she fumbled with the clasp and pulled it carelessly from her shoulders. He moved a hand to her shoulder, ran his palm down her arm, then across the bare skin of her bosom, and down, cupping her breast, squeezing it, his fingers brushing across the tip.