"All right. You're not currently engaged to her. Have you proposed?" There was the longest pause in history, and she murmured, "Just tell me, Damian."

"Yes, I've proposed."

If he'd taken out a knife and stabbed her with it, she couldn't have been any more painfully wounded.

"Then how could you propose to me?" she demanded.

"I wanted you to be happy."

It was the strangest comment ever. How did his mind work? "You wanted me to be happy so you offered a false marriage proposal?"

They stared, his gaze perplexed as if she was being a shrew and he couldn't figure out why.

"What are we to do now?" she asked.

"Now...we should have breakfast. I've been waiting for you all morning."

"Have breakfast?" The man was utterly deranged. "What about Portia?"

"What about her?"

"Will you wed her?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"You don't intend to follow through?" She laughed bitterly. "Well, it's finally happened. Portia and I have something in common. Neither of us can be sure about you."

"I don't know why you're being so difficult."

"Why I'm being difficult? What is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not stupid. Stop acting as if you are."

"I agree. I'm not stupid, but I can't bear to hurt you, and it appears you want me to be blunt."

"Yes, please be very blunt."

"I behaved dreadfully last night. I never planned to wed you, but I forged ahead anyway."

"I see."

"But I'd be delighted to keep you with me."

"Keep me as your...what?"

He struggled to find the appropriate term, but there was only one that applied.

"As my mistress."

"Your mistress."

"Yes. I'll take you away from here-wherever you'd like to go. Pick the spot-anywhere on the globe-and it can be yours."

"I don't want to leave Kirkwood. I've never wanted that. What I want is to marry you."

He sighed. "Georgina..."

"What?"

"I'd be an awful husband."

"Awful to which bride? Me? You seem perfectly eager to inflict yourself on Portia. Why is that? Is it because she's Miles's fiancee? Is that it? You'll wed her to prove to Miles that you can, but you won't wed me because I'm a Marshall?"

"You're making too much of my situation with Portia."

"Too much! I'm positive I'm not making nearly enough. And you haven't answered my question. Is a match between us impossible because I'm a Marshall? Is that why?"

"Oh, Georgina, no, that's not it. It's because you're much too good for me."

"Really? You can say that to my face?"

"You are too good! I would never impose myself on you. You'd grow to hate me, and I couldn't abide your scorn."

Somehow she found the energy to push herself to her feet. She felt as if she was choking, as if there wasn't any air in the sky, and she had to depart or suffocate.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I can't stay in here another second."

"You're upset over nothing."

"Over nothing," she mumbled, the impact very much as if he'd struck her.

He stood too and walked over to slip an arm around her waist. For a moment, she let him hold her, then she wiggled out of his grasp. She'd thought he cared about her, that he would always be her friend. She'd thought she...mattered to him and that was the worst realization. She hadn't mattered at all.

"I can't stand that you're so sad," he said. "Our tryst was amazing. We should celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

"Our new relationship! We're at the beginning of everything."

They might have been having two separate conversations, as if they'd participated in two completely different events. How could she be so wretched and he be so casually unaffected?

"What about Portia and me?" she asked. "Will you wed her, then climb into my bed when she's not looking?"

"No, I...I..." He threw up his hands. "I don't know, Georgina. I truly don't. I was thinking to marry her, but I probably won't."

"What if I'm increasing?"

"Increasing how?" He paused, then scowled. "You mean with a child?"

"Yes. Augusta claims it could have happened already."

"It's another reason you should remain by my side. If you're in the family way, you definitely need me."

"But not as my husband."

"I told you I'd be awful at it. I have no idea how to be a husband or father. Civilized conduct was drummed out of me years ago."

"It's funny that you didn't notice your shortcomings under after you'd deflowered me."

"I won't apologize for fornicating with you. It was wonderful. Don't you dare tell me it wasn't."

"It was wonderful for you maybe, but from where I'm sitting the view is a tad seedier."

"You're being ridiculous. Let's put some food in your belly, then we'll go riding. We'll spend the day together."

"Spend the day together? You actually suppose I would?"

"Georgina!" He grumbled with frustration. "Why are you being like this? I'm trying to make things better for you."

"I assumed you were fond of me."

"I was! I am!"

"Then how can you treat me this way?"

"How am I treating you badly? Is it because I won't wed you? I lived for most of two decades in a place where marriage was rarely accomplished. We don't need a verbal vow and a silly piece of paper to bind us. We can have a grand life merely because we choose to."

"You're willing to give that silly piece of paper to Portia."

"Should I promise I won't wed her? Is that it?"

"I don't care about Portia!" Tears surged into her eyes. "I care about me and you and the fact that you don't love me. I thought you might, but you don't."

"You thought I loved you? No." He shook his head. "I could never love a woman. It's simply not in me."

"It's all I've ever wanted. To be loved. To have someone for my very own."

"You can have me! I'll be so kind to you! How can I get you to understand?"

"You can't. Goodbye."

She spun and hurried out, and though he reached for her, she raced away.

"Georgina!" he called and when she didn't heed him, he shouted, "Would you stop for one damned minute?"

She flitted out a rear door and around the corner of the manor, then she dashed through the garden and into the woods. She was practically blind with despair so she could barely see where she was going.

Suddenly she was snatched from behind and dragged into the bushes. A hand was clamped over her mouth, and she wildly glanced back, anxious to learn who had captured her.

Was she being kidnapped? Would she be ravaged? She was in the forest at Kirkwood. What sort of miscreant would accost her?

In her disordered state, it took her an eternity to realize that there were over a dozen men present. One of them appeared to be a soldier. He was dressed in a uniform that had medals pinned to it. The others looked dangerous and tough, like pugilists who used their fists to make a point.

Farther down, Miles was concealed in a thick copse and staring across the garden. He started gesturing frantically to the men who were hiding in the trees. She peered over, and Damian was marching down the path, chasing after her.

It was obvious they were watching for him. Would there be a violent struggle?

She was furious at him, more incensed than she'd ever been with another person, but she couldn't bear to have a brawl occur. With so many lying in wait, he could be badly injured.

He neared, and though she tried to wrestle free from her assailant, she couldn't. Finally she bit him, and he cursed and released her long enough for her to yell, "Damian! Look out!"

But it was too late.

The men swarmed out of the bushes, and he was hit with a club before he could react. He nearly fell to the ground, then he came up swinging like a madman.

He was really quite stunning, quick and determined and lethal. He fought as if he'd spent his entire life fighting, as if he was regularly assaulted and was always prepared. He was punching and kicking, inflicting considerable damage on every attacker who approached, but he was alone and there were so many of them.

The man with the club hit him again, and he kept on hitting him, each blow landing with a deafening thud until he dropped to his knees and collapsed in a heap.

Georgina screamed with alarm as the leader of the group tied his wrists behind his back. His ankles were trussed too, then four men picked him up and carried him away. She would have run after them, but Miles grabbed her.

"Let them go, Georgina," he said.

"What have you done?" she seethed, rounding on him.

"He's an escaped felon and a danger to the community. I informed the authorities, and they've arrested him."

"Where are they taking him?"

"To London-to jail. He'll be sent back to Australia to finish his sentence."

"Oh, you fool! You idiot! He's not an escapee. He served his time. He paid his debt to society. They have no business seizing him."

"He claimed he'd served out his sentence?"

"Yes."

"You believed him?"

"About that one thing? Yes."

He shrugged. "If you're right or if you're wrong, it hardly matters."

"Hardly matters? Are you insane?"