"I believe I just did." He checked the hall to be certain it was free of guests before ushering her out of the room and closing the door behind them.

"I never promised to follow your every order," Kate laughed. "I only promised to follow orders as they pertained to the investigation."

"This does."

"How?"

She looked up to find his eyes dancing with merriment. "I'm ordering you not to ask."

Hunter left Kate laughing, and with the promise that he would handle the matter of the vase. The moment he turned the first corner in the hallway, he stopped, leaned against the wall and took two long, deep breaths.

You're a good man.

b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, what had he been thinking to tell her of his bargain with William? He snorted and dragged a hand down his face. Clearly Clearly, he hadn't been thinking of dazzling her with his charm. Nor had he been thinking of that last night, when he'd gone off issuing unreasonable orders. But that that, at least, had come from somewhere, and led to something. He'd been furious with her for going anywhere near Smuggler's Beach and he wanted to be certain she never, ever ever, put herself in that sort of danger again. Granted, once his temper had settled he'd been able to admit the danger had been fairly limited...and his reaction fairly asinine. But asinine or not, there had been a point. point.

For the life of him, he couldn't figure out where the desire to suddenly share a piece of his sordid past had originated or what he had thought to gain from it. It had come from nowhere, this overpowering urge to give her some inkling of the kind of man he was, the kind of man she was getting involved with-which was perfectly stupid as he didn't intend to give her much of a choice in the matter, and then he'd been on the edge of his seat waiting to discover what she thought of that man-which was equally stupid as he had no intention of changing who he was for her or anyone else-and then, finally finally, she had called him a good man. Which had elated, baffled, and irritated him all at once.

He wasn't a good man. He was wicked. Usually Usually, he was rather good at being wicked.

He'd been nothing short of ineffectual for the last eighteen hours.

That would stop, immediately. He knew how to be effective. He knew how to be d.a.m.n near everything. He had had been d.a.m.n near everything over the course of his life-wily street urchin, elusive thief, cutthroat businessman, charming gentleman. He'd managed that last well enough been d.a.m.n near everything over the course of his life-wily street urchin, elusive thief, cutthroat businessman, charming gentleman. He'd managed that last well enough after after his bizarre little confession. his bizarre little confession.

He certainly knew how best to go about getting what he wanted. And, despite despite his bizarre little confession, what he wanted b.l.o.o.d.y well wasn't for Kate to absolve him of his sins. his bizarre little confession, what he wanted b.l.o.o.d.y well wasn't for Kate to absolve him of his sins.

He liked liked being wicked, d.a.m.n it, and he wasn't the least bit sorry for it. being wicked, d.a.m.n it, and he wasn't the least bit sorry for it.

He pushed away from the wall and resumed his walk to the billiards room where he knew both Lord Brentworth and Whit could be found. The former he intended to offer an unholy amount of money to keep quiet the matter of the vase. The latter he intended to have keep an eye-a watchful watchful eye, this time-on Kate for a couple of hours. eye, this time-on Kate for a couple of hours.

He had a wicked and charming idea.

CHAPTER Fourteen

Kate returned to her room with the intention of changing her gown and hiding it in a trunk. With any luck, she could dispose of it once she was back at Haldon without anyone being the wiser.

Luck, it seemed, was in short supply. She opened her door to find Lizzy standing in the middle of the room, folding a blanket at the end of the bed. Lizzy dropped the blanket with a gasp and crossed the floor the second her gaze fell on Kate's b.l.o.o.d.y shoulder, which was exactly one second after Kate stepped inside.

"Lady Kate, what happened?"

Kate closed the door behind her. "It's nothing."

Lizzy stopped in her tracks and gestured at the bloodstained tear. "Nothing, is it? I've eyes, haven't I?"

"Yes. You also have ears and a mouth, which is why I'm not telling you what happened."

Lizzy sniffed, rather melodramatically in Kate's opinion. "I have been known to keep a secret or two."

"Only when it's my mother who's asked it of you."

"Well..." Lizzy eyes darted away and she began to tug at the ties of her ap.r.o.n. "Well, she asks me doesn't she? She..."

"She what, Lizzy?"

"She asks for my word."

Like a Cole, Kate realized, like family. How could she have failed to realize what that would mean to Lizzy? Rather than make an issue out of it, which would only make Lizzy more uncomfortable, she shrugged and spoke casually.

"Well, promise me me you'll not breathe a word of it, and I'll tell you what's happened." you'll not breathe a word of it, and I'll tell you what's happened."

Lizzy gave one solemn nod. "I promise."

Relating a story to Lizzy was always something of a challenge. The woman asked an inordinate number of questions. But relating a story that involved a broken vase, an injury, a picked lock, and a substantial amount of time locked in a room with a handsome man-whilst simultaneously avoiding any mention of a smuggling operation, and changing her torn gown-was far more than a challenge. It was an event. event. And one that took the better part of two hours. And one that took the better part of two hours.

It would have taken even longer if a soft knock on the door hadn't interrupted Lizzy in midquestion.

"Come in," Kate called, fully expecting a maid to enter with news of tea in the parlor.

What she heard was Hunter's voice. "It is tempting."

"Good heavens," Kate bounded off the bed, flew across the room and threw open the door. After a quick glance down both ends of the hall to be certain no one was about, she grabbed a handful of his waistcoat and pulled him a foot into the room, then thought better of it and pushed him back into the hall. Ignoring his deep chuckle, she stepped out, closed the door behind her, and took his arm to drag him away from her room.

"What were you thinking, coming to my door?" she demanded. "If someone had been about-"

"If anyone had been about, I wouldn't have come to your door."

"That's-"

"The ladies are in the parlor and the gentlemen are in the billiards room, Kate, and I didn't feel like hunting up a maid to fetch you."

She rolled her eyes. "Have you never heard of a bellpull?"

"I'm not going to make a maid come all the way upstairs just to deliver a message six doors down from my own. It would be a waste of time."

She stopped and turned to him when they reached the top of the back staircase. "It is is ridiculous, I grant, but it is also the way things are done. And not doing things the way they are done can result in...in..." She trailed off, remembering what he'd said. "Six doors? You counted?" ridiculous, I grant, but it is also the way things are done. And not doing things the way they are done can result in...in..." She trailed off, remembering what he'd said. "Six doors? You counted?"

He blinked once, then threw his head back and laughed. To her astonishment, he reached out to grip her face with his hands and placed a loud kiss on her forehead. "You never cease to surprise me."

She shoved him away, even as she battled the exceedingly odd combination of amus.e.m.e.nt and attraction. "That is not how things are done either." is not how things are done either."

"Come with me." Still chuckling, he took her arm and led her down the stairs. "I've a present for you."

"A present?" No doubt it was silly of her to be so easily sidetracked from her goal of educating the man on proper house party etiquette, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She was far more interested in the fact that she was excited excited to be receiving a present from a man. Generally, whenever one of her admirers brought her a token, she felt awkward accepting it, guilty that she wasn't thrilled to be receiving it, and in the case of Lord Martin, a little annoyed that he kept bringing them. to be receiving a present from a man. Generally, whenever one of her admirers brought her a token, she felt awkward accepting it, guilty that she wasn't thrilled to be receiving it, and in the case of Lord Martin, a little annoyed that he kept bringing them.

Hunter pulled her down a hallway she knew went mostly unused by guests. "Where are we going?"

"The ballroom. I want a bit of s.p.a.ce for this."

"There's quite a bit of s.p.a.ce outside." Though why they should need it was a mystery. "It stopped raining, hasn't it?"

"It has, but we need to do this indoors. That reminds me, why is it your family has not taken up permanent residence on the coast?"

She couldn't imagine how the first part of that statement could possibly remind him of the second. "I think perhaps you're spending too much time in my company."

"The music you hear," he began by way of explanation. "It stops when you listen to the sea, correct?"

"Yes."

"And sometimes you would prefer the music stop, also correct?"

"So why haven't we packed up and left Haldon for a place like this?" she guessed, and shook her head. "Haldon Hall is our home. It wouldn't be fair to my mother or Whit, or-"

"Is your family aware of the music you hear?"

"Mostly," she hedged.

"Most of your family, or mostly aware?"

"Mostly aware," she admitted. "They know I sometimes hear music and that it can be distracting."

"That's it? You've kept the details to yourself all these years?"

"You needn't say 'all these years' quite like that," she complained, only because it was a chance to change the subject. "I've had four seasons, not forty."

"Beg your pardon," he replied without sounding remotely apologetic. "Now answer the question."

"I've not kept the details entirely to myself. Lizzy knows." And now you. And now you.

She was relieved when he nodded and let the subject drop. It was an uncomfortable topic for her. She didn't like that she kept a part of who she was from those she loved, but she found the idea of her family rearranging their lives to accommodate her even less appealing. And goodness knew, if Whit or her mother thought it was something she truly needed, they would pack up their lives and leave Haldon for the coast. It was just the sort of overprotective nonsense Whit was fond of. And it would be dreadful. She adored Haldon. She'd met Hunter for the first time at the dinner table, Mirabelle for the first time on the grounds, and Lizzy not far away in the town of Benton.

"Here we are."

Kate looked at the large set of doors they stopped before. "Are you going to pick the lock again?" she asked hopefully.

He pushed open the door without trouble and smiled at her disappointed expression. "Sorry. I asked the housekeeper to unlock it earlier today. Seemed practical."

She pursed her lips and followed him inside. "Practical is rarely as much fun."

"Perhaps this will change your mind." He ushered her farther into the room and reached into a pocket.

Kate waited for him to pull out a book, or sweets, or...well it couldn't be flowers, not in his pocket, and that was really the only other thing a gentleman brought a lady.

He brought out a small hinged box and handed it to her. "Here you are."

She took it hesitantly. Oh, dear, what if he wasn't aware of what a gentleman could, and could not, give to a lady? What if he'd brought her something inappropriate, like jewelry?

Slowly, carefully, she opened the box just a crack, just enough to peek inside, as if a vastly inappropriate gift might become only slightly inappropriate if the look she took was very small.

"It's a pocket watch." She honestly couldn't think of anything else to say.

It was, indeed, a large gentleman's pocket watch fashioned of silver and heavily inlaid with gold in a complicated design of what looked to be leafy vines.

"It's..." Arguably, the oddest gift she had ever received. "It's, er, quite handsome."

"It's not," he laughed. "But you'll find it useful, I think."

"Yes, well, they are useful instruments," was the most diplomatic reply she could come up with.

"For you in particular, if we're lucky."

She hadn't the foggiest notion of how to respond to that.

He tipped his chin at her. "Have you any pockets on that gown?"

"Pockets? Er..." She ran her free hand along the sides of her dress and found a hidden pocket on the right. "Yes, this one does."

"Excellent. If this works, you should consider having them sewn into all of your gowns."

"If what works?"

He took the box, removed the watch to wind it up, and handed it to her. "Do you feel that?"

"Yes, of course." It was impossible not to feel the steady tick, tick, tick tick, tick, tick beneath her fingers. beneath her fingers.

Almost instantly, the silly child's tune shifted to follow the external rhythm.

She gaped at the instrument, suddenly seeing it in an entirely new light. "I...oh, my."

"I thought perhaps a larger movement would prove easier for you to hear and feel. Put it in your pocket."

Excited now, she did as he suggested. The steady rhythm of the watch wasn't strong enough for her to feel through the material of her gown and chemise, but when she put her hand in her pocket-"Oh, this is wonderful."

"Take a turn about the room," he suggested.

Kate was too enthralled with her new present to feel self-conscious about Hunter watching her as she made a circle around the ballroom. The steady ticking of the watch kept rhythm at a pace she could easily walk to, and it would be a simple enough thing to adjust the number of steps she took to each beat. Fewer steps per tick for meandering, additional steps per tick for a brisk walk.

Delighted and eager to discover all the possibilities a pocket watch had to offer, she turned to Hunter. "Stomp on the floor."