"I thought you might. You can be quite b-blood-thirsty, my dear."

"It is not that."

"Oh?"

"No, I have always known women could be quite capable when given the opportunity," she retorted in deliberately smug tones. "It is only men who persist in believing they are somehow incapable of shouldering responsibility."

He slowed the team so he could properly study her challenging expression.

"And what responsibilities would those be?"

She did not hesitate. "Controlling our own fortunes, buying property, choosing our futures rather than being at the whim of a gentleman."

"Egads." He gave a choked laugh. "I can imagine no lady less likely to be at the whim of a gentleman, my dear."

"No, I am fortunate to possess a father who values my independence," she readily agreed, ignoring his obvious amusement. "Other women are not nearly so fortunate. Just consider Violet being forced into marriage with a gentleman she detests, all to save her father from a ruin of his own making."

" 'Tis unfortunate, I must admit."

The memory of Violet's haunted eyes made Rachel's hands clench in her lap.

"It should be a crime," she said, wishing she could personally haul Mr. Carlfield and Mr. Wingrove to the nearest gallows.

He arched his brows in surprise at her fervent tones. "You are not a radical by any chance, are you, Rachel?"

"It is all so ghastly unfair."

"Maidens are not the only ones f-forced into marriage for reasons other than love."

She could not deny his logic. She had only to consider Lord Newell and the distasteful pressure being applied on him to wed Miss Hamlin. Still the situations were not entirely equal.

"Perhaps, but at least a gentleman possesses the means of supporting himself if he chooses to disregard his family's commands."

"Do you truly believe Violet capable of supporting herself even given the opportunity?" he demanded in disbelief.

It did seem a ludicrous notion, she had to admit. Violet was far too timid and uncertain of herself to face a life without the protection of wealth. She would faint in horror at the mere thought of forging into the world on her own. But Rachel could not conceive that she would be any less frightened and miserable shoved into the arms of Mr. Wingrove.

"Desperation will allow one to accomplish things one never dreamed possible," she said softly.

"Violet would be lost without someone to care for her, as you are well aware. She does not possess your spirit or your courage."

Rachel felt a prick of annoyance. He had not seen the horror in the wide eyes.

"You can not wish her to marry that obnoxious bore?"

"No, but it must be V-Violet who chooses to end her engagement," he said in firm tones. "Would I be any less a bully than her father to persuade her to turn Mr. Wingrove away?"

She opened her mouth, then heaved a reluctant sigh. "Must you always be so sensible?"

The dark eyes flashed in amusement. "I fear so. It is a great fault, I will admit."

"A fault, indeed," she mourned in sympathy. "But I am generous enough to overlook such terrible flaws in your character."

"How very kind of you, my dear."

"Yes, indeed."

He chuckled at her air of self-sacrifice, then abruptly changed the conversation.

"I have told you of my family, but you have told me little of yours."

She was startled by his interest. There were few among society daring enough to question her directly about the Devilish Dandy.

"What do you wish to know?"

"What was your childhood like?"

She paused before giving a wry grimace. "Exciting, unpredictable, and occasionally frightening when we feared Father was about to be discovered," she surprised herself by answering honestly. She rarely revealed anything but the most flippant details of her past. "It was also rather lonely because we never truly had a home. Thank goodness for Sarah and Emma."

"Your sisters?"

"Yes."

His gaze swept over her delicate features. "Are they as beautiful and daring as you?"

Rachel smiled as she thought of her sisters. "They are certainly beautiful and I suppose daring in their own ways. Sarah raised both Emma and me after my mother died and then defied convention by opening a school in the worst neighborhood in London. I do not doubt that she will continue to run it even though she will soon be Lady Chance. As for Emma"-she paused as she recalled their somewhat stormy relationship-" she refused to accept help from anyone and became a companion to Lady Hartshore before she won the heart of the Earl of Hartshore. I used to tease her unmercifully about her stuffy nature and refusal to enjoy life. She hated being the daughter of the Devilish Dandy. Now she simply sparkles with happiness."

"You sound almost envious," he retorted.

Rachel gave a blink. Until this moment she had not considered she might feel a trace of jealousy at her sisters' good fortune.

"Perhaps I am a bit," she slowly confessed. "Both Sarah and Emma have found gentlemen who respect and adore them. I do not doubt for a moment they will be extraordinarily happy."

"And yet you c-claim you have no interest in having a husband or family," he reminded her in soft tones.

She didn't, she sternly assured herself. Her life was delightful as it was. Exciting, unencumbered, and without the restrictions of a husband or children. Those small pangs when she viewed her sisters with their devoted fiances were easily dismissed. As were the moments of loneliness that struck without warning.

"I fear that my sisters have discovered a rare breed of gentleman." She deliberately lightened her tone. "They will not be required to bow to their husbands' commands or be treated to an endless line of mistresses. They will be cherished as they deserve to be."

"You believe only two gentlemen in all of England possess such qualities?" he demanded with a hint of exasperation.

The hazel eyes glinted with pleasure at having ruffled his cool self-command.

"Well, perhaps there are one or two others," she graciously conceded. "What of you? Do you intend to wed?"

He turned onto a path that wandered through a wide meadow. A covey of quail surged into the air, calling their disapproval as they flew toward the blue sky.

"As you have so kindly pointed out, I should make a ghastly husband," he at last retorted. "I rarely enjoy society, I often disappear for hours upon end to my workroom, and I prefer a good book to dancing the waltz."

She studied his elegant profile. "Surely you must produce an heir?"

"Thankfully my father's brother has managed to produce a prodigious gaggle of children. He has relieved me of any duty to carry on the family line."

"So you intend to remain a bachelor?"

A decidedly wicked expression settled on his countenance. "I suppose the proper maiden might lure me down the aisle. She would have to be quite out of the ordinary, of course."

"Out of the ordinary?"

"Yes, indeed. She must be beautiful, charming, gracious, and independent enough not to demand my constant attention."

"Are there any other requirements?" she demanded in dry tones.

He pretended to consider the matter. "She must be sweet-tempered, intelligent, blessed with a sense of humor, and possess a kind heart."

"Fah." She gave a reluctant laugh at his ridiculous demands. "I think you had best attempt to create this model of virtue in your workroom. You shall never discover a mere maiden who can meet your demands."

He appeared unperturbed by her confident disbelief in perfection.

"Oh, I do not know. My m-mother was such a woman."

Rachel recalled his words to Julia of how his mother had explained his faint stutter. "Kissed by an angel." She must be a wonderful woman indeed, she acknowledged.

"Are you still close to her?"

"Very close," he murmured, his tender tone making her heart give an odd flop.

"I should have liked to know my mother," she admitted with a wistful sigh. "Father says she was very gentle and ready to love whomever she met. He also said her laughter could fill an entire room with joy."

He reached out to brush her cheek before returning his hand to the reins.

"You most certainly inherited her laughter."

It was perhaps the greatest compliment she had ever received.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Your father never remarried?"

Rachel widened her eyes in surprise at the unexpected question.

"I do not believe many women would desire to tie themselves to the Devilish Dandy, even if he does possess the charm of Lucifer. Besides, he still loves my mother."

"Do you miss him?"

"Of course," she replied cautiously, all too aware that this gentleman was far too intelligent to be easily fooled. "But I realize that he can never return to England. It would be far too dangerous."

"That must be very difficult for you."

She shrugged. "I have my sisters and Uncle Foxworth."

"Ah, Uncle Foxworth. A most unusual gentleman."

"Yes." She covertly studied his bland expression, wondering if he already suspected her uncle was not quite what he seemed. "Do you like him?"

"He is intriguing." He tossed her a wry grin. "Although I should never wish to purchase a horse from him."

"A wise choice," she congratulated dryly.

"You know, you f-fascinate me, my dear."

Relieved to have the conversation turned from her father, Rachel met his dark gaze.

"Why?"

"Most maidens would be horrified to possess a father who is a thief and an uncle who consorts with a gossip-plagued prince."

"I love them," she said without hesitation. "I would not trade them for a hundred so-called respectable gentlemen."

"They are fortunate to have earned your loyalty."

"Earned?" She wrinkled her brow at his strange choice of words. "They had no need to earn my loyalty. They are my family."

He fell silent at her simple words, his expression suddenly remote.

Unwilling to disturb his inner thoughts, Rachel watched as they pulled into the drive leading to Carlfield Manor. In only a few moments they had swept past the towering oaks and were pulling to a halt in the courtyard.

A groom ran forward to take the reins as Anthony leaped to the ground and rounded the carriage to help Rachel alight. Just for a moment his hands lingered on her slender waist, then with a reluctant sigh he stepped back.

"I wish to thank you for accompanying me today."

"I enjoyed myself," she retorted with all honesty. She had enjoyed herself. Far more than a simple trip to the local village warranted.

"As did I," he said warmly.

There was a moment's pause as Rachel battled the urge to demand if he was about to once again disappear to the stables to dabble with his mysterious project. The lazy glint in his dark eyes warned her that that was precisely what he was expecting her to do. Instead she forced herself to offer him an airy smile.

"I wish you luck on your project. Perhaps I will see you at dinner."

She whirled away before he could speak and with her head held high she moved toward the open front door. She was not about to reveal just how badly she wished to plead to be at his side.

Reaching beneath the seat to retrieve the bag he had received from the tanner, Anthony walked toward the nearby stables. A smile curved his lips at the challenge that had sparkled in the hazel eyes as Rachel had turned away.

She was as spirited as she was beautiful. A heady combination. But there was more to her than just lovely curves and a swift tongue, he acknowledged.

He had already discovered that she possessed a kind heart just by her reaction to Julia. But he had been strangely moved by her bold declaration of loyalty to her father.