For goodness sakes, the woman frequented brothels and placed her school in a neighborhood not even the Watch would enter. She would think nothing of strolling alone halfway across London.

Burning with frustration, he had called for his carriage, nearly pacing with impatience by the time he was at last on his way.

He would never forgive himself if she became ill because of his thoughtlessness, he told himself, especially since he did not even have the excuse of having forgotten her meeting with his mother. He seemed unable to forget anything connected with Miss Cresswell.

On how many occasions had she disrupted his concentration-and not just at night, when a gentleman's thoughts might reasonably turn to satin skin and enticing lips?

He had assured himself his preoccupation was merely because she was so firmly out of reach. He was like a child who desired a toy simply because it was being denied him.

Well, perhaps not quite like a child, he ruefully acknowledged as he allowed his gaze to study the maiden seated across from him in the carriage. There was nothing childlike in his reaction to her proximity.

Drawing in a deep breath of the lilac-scented air, Chance studied the pure lines of her features and the unreasonable temptation of her lips. Damn, but she was an intoxicating minx, he was forced to concede. More intoxicating than a maiden had a right to be.

His gaze lifted and, with a tiny start, he realized her wide brow was furrowed in a faint scowl.

"You are frowning," he abruptly ended the silence. "Was my mother so horrid?"

She lifted her head and blinked in surprise. "Of course not. She was very gracious."

His lips twisted with a hint of self-mockery. "Then I suppose I am responsible for such a grim countenance. Truly, I wished only to spare you a miserable walk home."

Expecting a tart reply, Chance was startled when she gave an awkward shrug.

"It is nothing."

Intrigued, Chance leaned forward. "Come, I have shared my troubles with you."

There was a long moment when Chance feared she might refuse to confess. Then, entwining her fingers on her lap, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"I suppose I find it unfair that you should be expected to care for your family while Ben is encouraged to live as he pleases."

Chance stilled, caught off guard by the low words. It was the first occasion anyone had expressed concern for the responsibilities he shouldered. Certainly neither his mother nor Ben considered the vast amount of work their numerous estates entailed. He was the eldest son, and it was his born duty. Until this moment, he would have briskly dismissed any foolish notion that he desired sympathy for his position. Now, however, he could not deny a flare of warmth at the edge of annoyance in Miss Cresswell's tone.

"It seems to be the lot of the eldest child," he said softly. "Do not say you are not expected to be responsible while your sisters do as they please."

"I ... perhaps," she was forced to concede.

Chance allowed himself a small grimace. "I will not say, however, that Ben should be encouraged to continue his frivolous existence. I fear the influences of London have sadly altered his character. He is in need of something to capture his attention and keep him occupied."

She gave a slow nod, perhaps thinking of her own siblings. "A difficult task."

"Yes." Chance determinedly changed the subject. "Tell me what you accomplished this morning."

"You cannot be interested."

"Of course I am. Since I will be expected to participate in the various activities, I feel I should be properly warned."

He had intended to tease a smile to her pale face, but instead she abruptly stiffened as if she had been slapped. "I assure you it is all quite harmless."

Belatedly realizing she had taken his words as doubting her respectability, he gave an impatient frown. "I never thought otherwise."

"Even from the daughter of the Devilish Dandy?"

Chance felt his familiar distaste at her mention of her father. Really, harboring that roue of an uncle was bad enough-if he were indeed her uncle. There seemed little need to constantly advertise her connection to a notorious jewel thief.

"Why do you do that?" he demanded.

She regarded him warily. "What?"

"Refer to yourself in such a fashion?"

"It is no less than the truth," she insisted. "Just as you are the son of Lord Chance."

Hardly the same thing, Chance inwardly acknowledged. "No one would know Miss Cresswell was in any way related to the Devilish Dandy if you did not make such an effort to announce the fact."

A guarded expression descended upon her countenance. "You believe I should dissemble?"

"It might make your path smoother."

Something that might have been disappointment darkened her eyes. "I cannot pretend my father's behavior is anything but reprehensible, but he is my father and I love him," she said with quiet dignity. "I will not lie."

The very simplicity of her words made Chance flinch. Good gads, he was not usually so insensitive. To have actually suggested she disown her family and lie to the world ...

And why?

So he should not be ashamed to claim her as an acquaintance?

He was a perfect cad.

"No," he said softly.

"It is who I am. I will not apologize," she said, as if she felt she must emphasize her point.

"Forgive me, Miss Cresswell," he said ruefully. "My words were thoughtless."

She shrugged. "It must be difficult for you to understand."

Chance could not prevent a sudden laugh at the sheer irony of his situation. He leaned back into the soft leather. "Oh, yes. Unlike you, I have no notion of what it might be to possess a relative willing to pinch a necklace or tiara."

Despite her best efforts, her lips gave a telltale twitch. "It is not at all the same, as you well know."

"It is enough to teach me the difficulties of accepting a loved one regardless of his faults."

She lifted a brow. For the moment, neither were aware of the passing houses or the gray drizzle that dampened the cobblestones. "Quite an admission from the Flawless Earl."

He gave a mock shudder, pleased to note a sparkle had returned to her eyes. "Good gads, do not use that ghastly title."

"You are not proud of your impeccable reputation?"

"It is absurd," he retorted, wondering how the devil she had ever managed to hear of the Flawless Earl. "As you have so admirably pointed out, I have many flaws."

"Yes, indeed."

Chance gave a bark of laughter. "My dear, whatever pride I might have possessed you have effectively shredded beyond repair."

She wrinkled her tiny nose. "Pooh."

"I am not in the habit of being poohed."

"Then perhaps it is time you were," she promptly retorted.

Chance thought of all the maidens who had fawned and pandered to his vanity. Not by look or word did they dare imply he was anything but perfect.

Lud, it was no wonder he found Miss Cresswell's pert honesty so refreshing.

"Perhaps it is," he admitted softly.

Their gazes tangled. For a breathless moment, Chance found his thoughts once again turning to satin skin and enticing lips. Then, as if sensing his mounting desire to reach across the carriage and pull her into his arms, she rushed into speech.

"My . . . uncle has been keeping a close guard on Lord Maxwell."

He smiled wryly, wishing Monsieur Valmere and Lord Maxwell to the devil. "Has he?"

"Unfortunately there have been no suspicious movements."

"So once again we must wait."

She lifted her hands. "I fear so."

Chance was not nearly so disappointed as he should be. "Then that is precisely what we shall do."

Nearly holding her breath, Sarah sat at the side of the room as the tiny girl struggled to read aloud the short lesson. Although Fanny had come to the school nearly a year ago, it had taken Sarah months to coax her even to speak. To see her standing before the class and reading aloud made Sarah's heart swell with pride.

As she at last stumbled to an end, Sarah rushed forward to pull Fanny's slight form into a tight hug. "That was lovely, Fanny."

The tiny face flushed with pleasure. "I practiced just as you sez."

"Just as I said." Sarah gently corrected her with another hug.

Leading her pupil back to her seat, Sarah jumped as the door to the classroom was thrown open and Lucky skidded into the room.

"Miss, I think you had best come."

"What is it?"

A wide grin split his narrow countenance. "This you have to see for yourself."

Without giving Sarah the opportunity to question him further, Lucky turned and darted out of the room. Sarah motioned one of the older boys to take charge of the class, and she followed Lucky at a less hectic pace.

She could not imagine what had put Lucky into such a twitter. As a rule, the boy preferred to pretend he was above such childish enthusiasm. She could only suppose a circus was passing or the nearby gin house had once again caught fire.

Moving to the front door that was standing wide open, she found instead two large carts loaded to near overflowing. "Oh," she muttered in shock. "Oh my."

A tall gentleman in a caped greatcoat abruptly leaped from the front cart, which was filled with coal. Sarah's shock only deepened as she realized it was Lord Chance.

"Good morning, Miss Cresswell." He swept a bow.

"What is this?" she breathed.

Straightening, Lord Chance offered her a teasing smile. "Well, the first wagon contains coal, which is generally used to keep a fire burning. The next contains several books, a handful of desks, coats, boots, scarves . . ."

"I can see what they are," she interrupted, "but . . . why?"

He regarded her with an enigmatic expression. "With Christmas swiftly approaching, I began pondering an appropriate gift for you. I assure you I considered a number of more personal items that would delight a young maiden, but it occurred to me you were not like most ladies and that a pearl necklace or ermine muff would not please you nearly so well as a wagon of coal." He paused as he gazed deep into her wide eyes. "Was I mistaken?"

Thrown into confusion by his extraordinary generosity and the tingle of pleasure that he had truly cared to please her, Sarah discovered herself stammering like a widgeon.

"No . . . oh, but you should not have. I mean . . . I expected nothing . . ."

He smiled gently. "Which is what I admire most about you."

She helplessly gazed back at the burdened wagons. "But this is too much."

"It is a gift," he said in low but firm tones. "Surely your father taught you it is only polite to accept such offerings with a gracious air of gratitude."

Sarah knew she should protest. His gesture was far too extravagant for a proper lady. But the realization of how desperately her children were in need of the supplies swept aside her rigid strictures. Instead, her heart filled with a warm glow. She lifted her head to meet his dark gaze. "Thank you."

He reached up to lightly brush her cheek with his gloved fingers. "I have pleased you?"

"More than I could ever adequately express."

The world seemed to halt as he slowly smiled down at her upturned face. "Good."

For a poignant moment, there were only the two of them, and Sarah thought she could stand there in the warmth of his gaze forever.

But of course, nothing was forever. With a loud whistle of appreciation, Lucky moved to join them.

"Cor . . . you be a good 'un, guv," the boy complimented. "When I first seen them fancy togs, I thought you were a flat for sure."

His lips twitching, Lord Chance gave a mocking bow. "I am relieved I have risen in your valuable estimation, brat."

The urchin gave a saucy grin. "Mayhap you be good enough for the Miss after all."

Sarah gasped as her unruly charge gave her a broad wink and scurried back inside to spread the word of their sudden bounty. A flush of embarrassment stained her cheeks as she reluctantly met Lord Chance's glittering gaze. "I must apologize for Lucky. He occasionally forgets his lessons in how to behave as a gentleman."

Sarah could only presume the chill in the air made Lord Chance's cheeks red as he gave a vague shrug. "He is an engaging scamp. You have done well with him."