He strode toward her, his gaze filled with worry and something more. "Are you all right?"

She swallowed. Her back still burned. She was stiff and sore from the thrashing she had received, but the baron was always careful to make sure the marks didn't show.

"I'm fine. We both are. The day after our arrival, Lord Harwood was called away."

"When will he return?" His eyes were a darker golden brown. There were secrets in them. She wondered what they were.

"He should be home today."

He nodded. "Good. In the meantime, we need to talk."

She smoothed the front of her gown, took a steadying breath. "Shall I ring for tea?"

"Perhaps I'll have something later."

Crossing the room in front of him, she indicated they should take a seat on the green velvet sofa and they sat down next to each other, a respectable distance apart.

Cord didn't bother with formalities. "First, I need to tell you that I have been to see the magistrate. Unfortunately, he says where your guardianship is concerned there is nothing he can do."

A faint sound of distress escaped and Cord captured her hand, holding it gently between both of his.

"That doesn't mean this is over. I'm working on several other options. We'll find a way to help Claire."

She tried to remain optimistic, but her chest squeezed with fear. "How?"

"I'm not yet certain. But that is not the reason I am here."

She frowned, wondering at the change in his thoughts. "Why then?"

He let go of her hand, straightened a bit on the sofa. "I came here to propose."

"Propose?" Her mind didn't seem to be working. "Surely you realize I can't become your mistress. Not now."

The edge of his mouth barely curved. "I am not offering an indecent proposal, Miss Whiting. I am making you an offer of marriage."

Tory swayed a little on the cushion, for an instant, feeling light-headed. The earl was asking her to wed. Dear sweet G.o.d. She hadn't known how much she wanted that to happen until that very moment.

Then it dawned on her. He had taken her innocence. She was the daughter of a baron. He had no choice but to marry her. She hoped the crushing disappointment didn't show.

"I realize you feel it is your duty...under the circ.u.mstances...to make such a proposal. I a.s.sure you, I never expected marriage when we...when I accompanied you to your cabin. We both know I am not what you want for a wife."

"What I want is no longer important. Fate has intervened and there is no other choice except for us to wed."

She shook her head. "You planned to marry an heiress. Even should the baron feel obligated to provide a dowry, it would be of meagerest proportions, certainly nothing that would strengthen your family holdings."

"Be that as it may, our course has been set. I have already obtained a special license. On the morrow, we will wed."

She couldn't believe it. Did he really believe she would simply agree, that she would marry him knowing he didn't want her? Squaring her shoulders, Tory stood up from the sofa.

"I have not agreed to marry you, my lord, and I don't intend to. My answer to your proposal is no. I don't want a man who doesn't want me."

Cord stood up right next to her. "Oh, I want you. I can a.s.sure you, sweeting, one night with you in my bed was scarcely enough." Gripping her shoulders, he drew her toward him, bent his head and very thoroughly kissed her. Tory tried to push him away, but his hold only tightened. Her back still stung, but the heat was so overwhelming she forgot about the pain. Instead, desire swept through her, weakening her resolve, coaxing her to return the kiss.

She leaned toward him, gave herself up to him, felt a stab of disappointment when Cord pulled away. When she opened her eyes, there was a hint of triumph in his expression.

"We're going to be married. You might as well get used to it."

Tory tried to find her voice, then simply shook her head. "I won't do it."

His eyes flared. "You will, dammit!" Cord caught her shoulders again. "Listen to me, Victoria. You need to get out of this house before your stepfather seriously hurts you. Aside from that-have you considered the possibility that you may be carrying my child?"

She blinked. The thought had never crossed her mind. "Surely it takes more than once."

The edge of his mouth faintly curved. "It happened more than once, if you will recall, and even if it hadn't, the possibility would remain."

She pondered that. If things were different, she would love to have Cord's child. If he loved her. If he weren't being forced into a marriage that he didn't want.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I won't marry you. I don't believe I am with child and there are other things to consider."

"Such as?"

She flicked a glance toward the rooms upstairs. "My sister. If...if you want to marry someone, marry Claire. She is the one who needs your help."

The earl made a harsh sound in his throat. "It wasn't Claire whose innocence I took that night on the ship. It wasn't Claire whose luscious little body wept for me, trembled for me, sang for me. And it isn't Claire I intend to wed-it is you, Victoria!"

Tory swallowed but said nothing more. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. Half of her wanted to marry him so much an ache throbbed in her heart. The other half knew she had stumbled upon the answer to how she was going to save Claire.

"All right, you win," she finally agreed. "If you are certain that is your wish, then I will marry you."

An odd emotion flickered in his eyes. If she hadn't known him better, she would have sworn it was relief.

"I'll speak to Harwood as soon as he returns. Once matters between us have been settled, we can be wed."

Tory watched him leave the room. There was purpose in his strides and a confidence about him he wore like a cloak. She couldn't help thinking of the chess games they had played. In this match, she had made the first move when she had gone to his cabin. Today he had countered. It was her turn next.

There were sacrifices to be made in any game.

She only wished it didn't have to hurt so badly.

Over the last few days, Cord had kept himself busy. After his conversation with Rafe, he'd made a second fruitless trip to the magistrate's, then paid another visit to Jonas McPhee, instructing the runner to look for any information that might be useful against the baron, hoping it would provide the leverage he needed to free Claire.

He had hired the best attorney in London to look for avenues his position as her soon-to-be brother-in-law might supply. He had arranged for a special license and bought a wedding gift. A very special wedding gift.

Wedding. Cord frowned at the thought. He had wanted to marry an heiress. Instead, he was wedding a penniless young woman-his housekeeper, for G.o.d's sake! Part of him couldn't help feeling angry and duped. But the deed was done and there was no changing the result.

Which was why he had returned to Harwood Hall for his necessary but entirely distasteful meeting with the baron. Cord sighed as he crossed the bedchamber he had been a.s.signed, mentally replaying the conversation they'd had that afternoon.

They had met in Harwood's study. Cord had begun by stating his interest in a match between him and Victoria, which seemed to surprise the baron.

"When you requested this meeting, I thought perhaps you meant to make an offer for Claire."

Harwood a.s.sumed every man found her as irresistible as he did. Which only proved what a fool he was.

"Your younger daughter is extremely beautiful, as you well know, but she's young and incredibly naive. It's your older daughter who has captured my interest."

Harwood lifted a small porcelain pitcher off one of the Sheraton tables and held it up to examine it. As he had been before, the baron was dressed a bit foppishly, in a blue satin tailcoat and ruffled black cravat. Whatever Cord thought of him, it was obvious he thought himself a handsome man.

"I'm not sure that is a good idea. Victoria is young and not yet completely prepared to become a wife."

Words Cord translated as, She runs my household without payment and I enjoy having her under my control.

"Yes, well, she is nineteen, after all, and we both know there are extenuating circ.u.mstances. A young woman who has lived unchaperoned in a bachelor household. Sooner or later rumors are bound to surface. Should the gossipmongers get wind of the story, her reputation will be ruined. Yours and mine will suffer as well. A marriage between us would head off any possible scandal."

Harwood set the pitcher back down on the table. Both men were standing. Neither wanted to be at a disadvantage.

"I shall have to give it some thought."

"You do that. While you're at it, you might also give thought to the fact that you've another daughter to consider. As an earl and Claire's brother-in-law, the younger girl's reputation will also be protected."

Harwood toyed with the cuff on his satin coat. "There is still the matter of the necklace. Victoria must remain here long enough to make reparation."

Cord had known this was coming and he was prepared. "I'll gladly pay for the necklace. As her husband, I would, of course, be responsible for her debts."

Harwood's face immediately lit with interest, as Cord had been certain it would. For the next half hour, they haggled over the value, Cord finally agreeing to the baron's ridiculous claims of the pearls' worth.

"There is no limit to the value of such an object," Harwood said. "It is irreplaceable."

Not entirely, Cord thought, since he had already managed to find and purchase the necklace himself. Victoria had mentioned the moneylender in Dartfield who had bought the pearls for a miserly sum. As there was only one such man in the village, it hadn't been difficult to track the necklace down. Paying far more than the moneylender had for the piece, he had eventually struck a deal.

As Victoria's future husband, righting the matter of the theft was the honorable thing to do, and at first Cord had meant to simply return the necklace to the baron. In the end, for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he had decided to keep it.

As he watched the gleam of greed enter Harwood's dark eyes, he was glad of his decision. The beautiful antique necklace was far too precious to belong to such a man.

"You are willing to pay me for the necklace. Are you also willing to take Victoria without a dowry?"

Cord's jaw tightened. Financially, he had done very well in the last few years. But he had vowed to increase his family's worth to an even greater extent. He hated the reminder of his failure.

"I am not asking for one."

In the end, Harwood agreed to the marriage almost gleefully. More, Cord figured, from the realization that once Victoria was gone, he would be rid of Claire's watchdog rather than any real concern for the girls' reputations.

Cord paced the bedchamber, the memory slipping away as he sipped the brandy that had been left for him on a silver tray atop the bureau. The room he'd been provided was surprisingly nice, though the dark green damask draperies were far from new and the counterpane slightly worn. Still, everything was clean and the furniture well polished. Victoria's doing, he imagined, trying not to be amused.

He drew back the counterpane, pulled back the freshly washed linens and was surprised to see a small white note, carefully folded and sealed, lying on his pillow. He picked up the message, broke the seal and skimmed the feminine, finely penned script.

As the words sank in, images of Victoria, naked and writhing beneath him, swam into his head. Desire pulsed through him. Heat pooled heavy in his groin and he went hard beneath his robe.

Dearest Cord, I apologize for my reluctance this afternoon. I am in your debt for what you are doing. And there is the matter of our mutual attraction. You said you wanted me and in truth I want you, too. Come to my room tonight, two doors down on the left. I'll be waiting for you in bed.

Yours, Victoria.

Sweet Jesus. She had only reluctantly agreed to the marriage. Knowing how stubborn she could be, he hadn't expected such a reversal, but he was glad to see that she had come to accept her situation, and thinking of the way she had returned his kiss he knew her desire for him was not feigned. She wanted him. And G.o.d knew he wanted her.

It was getting late. Cord blew out the lamp beside the bed and crossed the Aubusson carpet to the door. Barefoot and naked beneath the robe, he checked to be certain no one saw him, then stepped out into the hall. His blood was pounding, his arousal almost painful.

Cord reached Victoria's bedchamber and quietly opened the door.

Chapter Twelve.

The wind blew noisily outside the brick house, but still Tory could hear his familiar footsteps striding down the hall. She pressed her ear against the door and listened to the soft closing of the door to her sister's bedchamber. Her pulse was racing, thundering in her ears. And there was a soft ache in her heart.

You have no choice, a little voice said.

Claire would be better off with the earl. With him, she would be safe. And Tory believed that Cord was a good man, the sort of man who would be kind to Claire. She thought that he would be patient with her sister, give her time to adjust to the idea of marriage. She remembered how gentle he had been the night that they had made love.

The pain expanded, seemed to fill her chest. Tory ignored it. Cord would be furious at being bested, but she didn't believe he would take it out on Claire.

And like most of the men of his cla.s.s, having a wife wouldn't necessarily change his life. The earl had several estates. Perhaps he could remain in the city and leave Claire in the country. Tory could come for long visits and Claire would be happy there.

Tory told herself all those things as she stepped out into the hall. She said them again as she moved along the corridor, holding up a small bra.s.s lamp to light the way. The master's suite was just down the hall. It wouldn't take much to wake the baron.

Tory took a deep, steadying breath, opened Claire's door and started to scream.

b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! Cord jerked away from the figure asleep in the bed and whirled around. Victoria stood in the doorway dressed in her night rail, long brown hair plaited into a single thick braid. She was shouting, pointing her finger at him, bringing half the servants down the corridor at a dead run, led by no less than the baron himself.

Cord turned back toward the bed, his mind spinning, trying to grasp what was happening. A sleepy-eyed Claire jerked upright and stared at him with a completely bewildered expression.

If you want to marry someone, marry Claire. She is the one who needs you. In an instant, Cord realized what Victoria had done.

His jaw clamped, his fury so great he felt as if the top of his head might blow off. He wanted to strangle Tory. He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. He wanted to shout at her until his voice went hoa.r.s.e.

The baron had reached the doorway. He stood there in his nightclothes, a half-dozen servants cl.u.s.tered behind him in the hall.

"'I-I can't believe it," Tory said, a hand dramatically at her throat. "I heard a noise in Claire's room. I opened the door and...and there was the earl, leaning over Claire's bed."

She wouldn't look at him, just kept her eyes on her stepfather's mottled, angry face. "He has compromised her, my lord. Ruined her completely. Her reputation will be in tatters."

"Tory...?" Claire's voice trembled.

Victoria cast her sister a soothing glance. "It's all right, darling. Everything is going to be fine."

Cord turned his attention from Claire to Victoria and some of his temper receded. He could see the desperation in her face, her terrible fear for Claire. And there was something more, something of pain and regret, something that caused an odd pain in his chest.