"Tell me, Sunny. You can tell me anything." His voice was softer and his expression eased a bit.

It gave her courage. She lowered her eyelids and rolled one shoulder ever so slightly. "I am frightened of myself, sometimes. I am also frightened of how much I've leaned on him. How much I've come to depend on him." She flashed him a look.

What would he think now?

Clear blue eyes gazed back at her, intense and warm. He appeared so open to her, so patient. Hope flooded her.

Dear God, please, please let it be real. Don't let me fool myself all over again.

He nodded curtly. "Why do you think you have found so much comfort from a man you fear?"

"Because I fear myself so much!" she blurted, feeling her heart accelerate with her rising emotions. She felt frustration with him for making her repeat such a damning admission. Anger at herself for being so weak, so flawed.

So broken.

He gazed back at her calmly.

In the face of that calm, she was embarrassed to have lost control, to have spoken sharply to him. She bit her lower lip and glanced down. "I want so much from life, things I fear I've no right to ask for. But I can no' hold back the wanting."

"You have every right, Sunny. You have a right to every happiness in this life."

Her heart lodged in her throat. Dare she ask for everything? He had already promised her and then rejected her afterward.

"I want something from you." She paused, feeling her heart race at her audacity.

"I can't do that, Sunny. I won't take advantage of you."

"I do want that." She inhaled deeply, struggling for courage. "But this is something more."

"What exactly do you want from me, Sunny?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know how to put it into words without sounding foolish."

He moved to sit beside her. His scent wafted over her, a subtle mix of spicy citrus cologne and masculinity. But more than that, vitality radiated from him like a force, tingling through her as her every nerve ending came alive.

He took her hand into his own. He had removed his glove and she hadn't been wearing any, so that his bare skin touched hers. His palm was hard yet smooth and so warm, his grip so firmly gentle that she had a sense of being surrounded by his strength, his protection.

Warmth flooded her. She melted, simply melted, leaning back against the seat. "There's just you and me here." His deep voice resounded with tenderness. "There's nothing that can be foolish between us, so long as we are open and honest with each other."

That clear blue gaze still held hers, so open to her. No one had ever looked at her like that. She was sure this was the most intimate gaze she'd ever shared with anyone. This was the closest she had ever felt to anyone. She could tell him anything.

"I want your guidance." Now that the words were out, her heart raced at her daring. Yet she hadn't quite got the whole matter out, had she? She took a trembling breath, to try and slow her heart's beat. "I want you to protect me, to set limits for me. To give me consequences."

The words had taken much out of her and her body went weak. Limp. But her spirit soared. Would he understand?

James studied her eyes, struck by how they shone with hope. God, weren't they the most beautiful eyes? Like the greenest grass in the early morning, sparkling with water-droplets. The weight of that hope centered clearly in his chest. Her eyes searched his. Again, he had that feeling of seeing the former Sunny, the cheerful girl she had been, imposed over the sensual, yet rather brooding woman she had become. A moment passed. Then another. Her fingers curled tighter around his. She bit her lip again. Her lashes fluttered down until her eyes appeared half-closed.

All right, he understood what she was asking for. It caused a dark sort of arousal to flare to life in his blood. But no, he couldn't possibly do it. Not with her. Not with his gentle, girlish, innocent Sunny. The ladylike Scottish lass with the cheerful air that he remembered.

Not after what she had been through.

With anyone else, yes.

But not her.

"I am here for you, Sunny. I am taking you to Brownwood, and together we will work to cure you of any dependency you have on laudanum, and you will have a rest, away from others. When you feel strong enough, perhaps you will want to settle in London and start your life over. "

"Oh goodness, yes, you're so very kind and generous with your time, taking me to Brownwood as planned. But that type of caring, while it is part of what I want, it is no' completely the way I meant."

He knew that.

"I need your strength." She paused and compressed her lips, her hand gripping his tighter than ever. "Else I fear I might return."

Her cloak had gaped open. In the lamplight the sheer muslin of her shift appeared creamy yellow in color, the tops of her bosom rich ivory above the deep-pink ribbon trim. She had skin like no other woman he had known. Velvety soft. He longed to trace his fingertips down from her collarbone, down the deep crease between her generous breasts. Desire shot through his loins. His rising erection strained against his fall. He had to actively tear his gaze away from her luscious curves.

What had she just said? Something about returning to Meeker? He frowned. She wasn't making sense. "The devil you say. You wouldn't return."

She flinched. Barely. But he had seen it all the same. Inwardly, he winced. He became aware of his pounding heart, of the heat in his neck and his ears. His anger had built so quickly, he hadn't been able to keep the sharpness from his tone. Why couldn't he remember to treat her with patience? Why couldn't he maintain his self-control around her? She'd been through enough in the past few years. She didn't need to be burdened with all the turbulent emotions that kept boiling up within him at her nearness.

He caressed her hand, briefly, gently, with his fingertips. "Why do you believe you would ever return?" he said, far more patiently.

"I feel weak, I feel I need something...he-he tried to supply it. H-he said I needed that in my life, and I came to see that perhaps I did but...I did no' need it the way he-"

Her breasts rose and fell more rapidly, yet at the anguish in her tone, James' blood went cold. He dreaded what she would say next. Yet he must hear it. He paused and made an effort to keep the impatience, the imperiousness, out of his voice. "What did he do to you, Sunny? What was that treatment?"

"Discipline."

Her whisper was so soft, he'd had to lean close to hear her.

He tightened his hold on her hand. "Meeker..." Bile rushed up his throat, a hot, bitter gush, and he gagged, so great was the wave of revulsion and rage that mounted within him. He choked it back. God, he couldn't get his mind around the very notion. "Meeker dared to discipline you?"

She raised stricken eyes to his.

"Physically?" he prompted.

She bit her lip and dropped her gaze. "I did need that. He was right. But something was wrong, very wrong. I-I could no'...give myself over as he felt I should."

This time her voice dropped so low, he'd barely heard her.

A red haze colored over her image and darkened until he could see her no longer. Rage filled his blood, making him light-headed.

He should have listened to his intuition. All those years at sea, in war, should have taught him better than to have ever ignored his intuition.

He should have killed Meeker.

He would kill the man, for this-for what he had done to Sunny in her time of need and weakness.

But for now, he must stay with Sunny. He must see her safely brought back to herself. Decision made, his vision began to clear and his head to cool by slow degrees.

"I could no' give over to him."

The anguish in her voice tore into him. "Of course you couldn't. That's not something to berate yourself over."

"Dr. Meeker said it was rebellion against male authority. He said I had no' respected Papa or Freddy and that I needed to learn how to give myself over to a man's authority. He said that he would help me correct my way of thinking. That he would stand in as a male authority for me and once I had given over to him, then it would be easy for me to transfer that submission to a husband. He said I would no' be fit for a real marriage until I was able to do that." She paused, closed her eyes, and her throat moved as she swallowed.

I'll kill him.

The mantra beat through him, boiled in his blood. The urge to tap on the wall of the carriage, to tell the driver to turn around and head back to Edinburgh beat through him. He wouldn't even bother with the formality of a duel. He'd simply wrap his hands about that white, thin-as-a-chicken's neck.

Meeker wouldn't live to see the next sunrise.

He balled his fists, fighting the urge to turn and rap on the forward wall. The effort caused his stomach to grow tense and queasiness twisted through him.

Don't be rash. Don't make an emotional decision.

He glanced at Sunny's face. She was paler now, her expression taut and drawn, her eyes tightly closed.

She needs you to remain calm. She needs you here. You can kill the English blackguard later.

"I believed him, I saw the fault within myself. But now, I think he was simply the wrong man." Her soft, halting voice broke through his rage, softening him for her.

She needs to be heard. Focus on what she's saying. She needs you.

"You think you need what he prescribed, and you think I am the man to give it to you?" he asked.

She didn't open her eyes as she nodded slowly.

What an offer from any woman to a man!

And she was the most desirable woman he'd ever seen, all tussled golden brown curls, lush strawberry-red lips, glowing ivory skin and soft, decadently delicious curves. The rage he'd felt while imagining Meeker had done away with his erection. His cock begin to rise again, so quickly, so intensely, taking fuel from his anger, sending the blood rushing into his loins. It was a rush of excitement like he'd never known.

He steeled himself against it. "I can't do it, Sunny."

"Please."

Her need rang in the word and it echoed right into his bones. He felt her need, her painful need. Felt it beat right in the core of his being. It beat with the pounding of his own heart and the throb of his erection that strained against his trousers. Could all the self-control in the world overcome such desire as this? He took a deep breath and forced it down. "You must be given time. You're too vulnerable now."

He said this firmly, a bit harshly-for himself. So he would understand what he couldn't have and why. If he accepted her offer, he would be no better than that monster who had abused her. Worse, in fact. He'd be even worse.

He'd be a monster. She nodded but would not look at him. "I supposed it would be too much to ask. You have a busy life, you are such an important man that-"

"Hush!" he ordered.

Her eyes popped open and she flinched. He had spoken too sharply. But the bleak acceptance in her voice had been squeezing his heart. "Now you listen to me." He heard the hoarseness in his voice.

She stared at him with that bleak, disappointed yet accepting gaze, as though she'd known nothing but disappointments her whole life.

"Are you listening?" he repeated.

She nodded, slowly.

"Tell me that you are listening," he demanded softy.

"I am listening."

"All that tripe that Meeker gave you about you needing to be fixed, it wasn't true, Sunny. There's nothing wrong with you."

"I am broken. Hopelessly broken."

Rage poured into his blood like water into boiling oil. His jaw tightened to the point where he could barely work his mouth to speak. "Meeker lied. He was manipulating you. He manipulated Aunt Frances as well."

Her hand slipped from his. He was too consumed with hatred of Meeker to focus clearly. He feared saying more. Feared he would speak too sharply or reveal the depth of his hate and frighten her.

"You have to understand." Her soft voice cut into his thoughts.

"What must I understand?" he said, carefully parsing his words.

"He is not evil."

James twisted his mouth. "He's the devil himself."

"No, he's a brilliant doctor. His ideas are revolutionary."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, his work and that of his associates will change the face of medicine."

James tapped his fingers on his thigh, clenching his jaw tight so as to hold his tongue. He took several deep, deep, deep breaths, pacing them out, trying to control his inner rage.

She kept on speaking, her eyes glowing with what must be an idealistic respect for that devil of a doctor. "He could succeed with the right woman. But with me, well, he's just misguided. He said he wanted to help. He cares for me but he hurts me. However, I do no' think he intends to." James had come to a sort of inner equilibrium, at least enough to trust his tongue again. "He says whatever he thinks you want or need to hear. He seeks to keep you uncertain of yourself."

"No, he's really trying to help, but he's the wrong man to do it. I mean he's wrong for me. It is my failing. No' his."

"He doesn't want you better. He seeks a never-ending source of income. I tell you that you are not broken. You just need rest and time away from those who have manipulated you. Time to regain your bearings."

"If I was no' so broken, Robert would no' have been able to dupe me with that drugged tea."

"Why do you say that?"

"I noticed him."

"Noticed him?" The words were forced from him before he could think. But she had made the word 'noticed' sound worse than if she'd run the young valet through with a dirk. He frowned. "What the devil does that mean?"

"He is no' ill-favored and when he reached into his pocket for your note, I noticed his..." She paused, threaded her fingers together and flexed her hands. "I noticed his midsection."

"You found him attractive?" He struggled to stay objective. But inside, a sudden surge of jealousy burnt through him. Robert was a pretty lad, everyone had always noted it. And Sunny had a past preference for those beneath her. Being reminded of it disturbed James all over again. It was a petty thing to focus on, especially given the gravity of their conversation up to this point.

Yet, he was jealous. Bitterly so.