"Forgive me, but there were a few delicate negotiations that had to be taken care of."

He searched her beautiful countenance in confusion. "Negotiations?"

"Yes."

She held up a folded sheet of paper. Stepping back, Anthony took the paper from her, opening it to reveal a hastily scribbled note signed at the bottom by Lady Broswell.

"What is this?"

"It is Lady Broswell's written permission to give me custody of Julia."

A sharp stab of shock flared through him. "What?"

"I told you that I was going to Broswell Park for justice," she said, her tone triumphant. "I used my knowledge of Mary's relationship with the servant to force my aunt to give me custody of Julia."

"Good God," he breathed.

Rachel's smile faded as her eyes darkened with sudden concern. "Are you angry? I know I said nothing of my plans when you asked me to marry you. It will not be easy to interrupt your life with both a wife and a young girl."

"I would be very happy to have Julia with us," he eased her fears, quite prepared to bring the girl into his home. Indeed, he had been considering his own means of removing Julia from Lady Broswell's callous care. "But, my dear, this is not a legal document."

Her smile readily returned. "I shall have it made legal as soon as I return to London."

"Lady Broswell could easily change her mind," he warned.

"Not as long as she wishes Mary's indiscretion to remain a secret from Lord Newell."

He arched his brows. "That, my dear, is blackmail."

She wrinkled her nose. "Reprehensible, I know. But I could not leave here knowing Julia was trapped in that horrid place. She is my cousin, Anthony. She deserves better."

Anthony felt a surge of pride rush through him. She had promised him that she wanted justice, not revenge. And that was precisely what she had achieved. She had rescued Julia from Lady Broswell's cold control and ensured that she would be given the care she ought to have.

"How did Lady Broswell react to your demands?"

A revealing shudder shook her body as she recalled the no-doubt fiery confrontation.

"She was furious that I had learned the truth about Julia, of course. Clearly she assumed no one would ever discover that she had hidden her own daughter in the dowager house. Surprisingly, however, she was much less shocked when I revealed Mary's affair. I believe she must have suspected the truth."

Anthony gave a slow nod of his head. "Which is no doubt the reason why she is so eager for the wedding to take place between her daughter and Lord Newell."

"Yes. It took little effort after my revelation to convince her that Julia would be better in our care."

Anthony's heart leaped. "Our care." Simple words, and yet they captured the very essence of his deep happiness. He would not longer be alone. From today onward his life and heart would be entwined with this beautiful, passionate, maddening woman.

"You were right," he said, moving forward to gently wrap her in his arms. "You do have a great deal of the Devilish Dandy in you."

"Are you very angry with me?" she asked softly.

"No." He smiled as her body fitted perfectly against his own. Surrounded by the peace of the woods, with the scent of sweet roses and spring sunlight peaking through the trees, he was certain he could stay in this precise spot forever. "Although I intended a less spectacular means of rescuing Julia, you appear to have settled matters quite handily."

"It did seem the perfect solution."

"And your honor is satisfied?" he demanded. "No more plots for revenge?"

"Actually, I forgot my plot for revenge sometime ago."

"Indeed?"

The hazel eyes sparkled in an enticing manner. "Yes, I kept being interrupted by a tall, handsome gentleman who kisses me in the most amazing fashion."

Anthony sucked in a sharp breath, discovering his ability to concentrate was directly connected to her tiny wiggles to press even closer. With each wiggle his thoughts became more difficult to maintain. He would have to make sure that the minx did not use such tactics to always have her way with him. He could not be forever under her delicate heel.

She gave another wiggle and all fear of being properly henpecked disappeared.

For the moment he was quite content to be deliciously distracted.

"He sounds fascinating," he murmured.

She coyly batted her long lashes. "Utterly fascinating."

"Precisely the sort of gentleman you should marry with all possible h-haste."

"Oh, I intend to."

He gave a low chuckle, forcing himself to drop his arms and take a step backward. Although he had always been a gentleman of cool control and meticulous reason, he did not trust himself to remain alone with Rachel. He intended their wedding to be perfect, even if it was by special license. And that included their wedding night.

"Come, my minx. Let us go collect Julia before I forget we are not yet wed."

She wrapped her arm through his, leaning her head upon his shoulder as he steered them toward the dowager house. They walked in peaceful silence for some time, then without warning Rachel heaved a small sigh.

"What is it, my dear?" he asked with a faint frown.

"I wish my father was still here."

"Why?"

"I should wish him to know that we are to be wed."

Anthony's frown cleared as he smiled into her darkened eyes. "I would wager that he suspected our marriage long before we did. He is a very perceptive gentleman."

She considered his words for a long moment then gave a delighted laugh.

"Perceptive and far too sly for his own good. I am glad he is about to endure a bit of his own medicine."

"What?"

"Never mind." Her head returned to his shoulder. "We have our own family to think of now."

Fifteen.

The large town house set in an elegant square was renowned as much for its amusing peculiarities as for its notable view of the park. One could never be certain what sort of invention would be displayed in the library or even blocking the front hall. There were coatracks carved in the shape of a butler, a mirror framed by candles that was blindingly bright, and a mechanical bird that perched on the mantel and sang Rachel's favorite tune.

And of course there were the delicious rumors that the pretty Julia was a by-blow of the Devilish Dandy and that he could routinely be seen slipping through the neighborhood in the dead of night to visit his daughters.

After a year of the gossip and speculation, Rachel paid little heed to the absurd stories. Certainly they had not harmed either her or Anthony's standing in society. Indeed, it was considered a triumph of the highest order to receive a rare invitation to the Clarke town house. But more importantly, she discovered herself deliciously, wickedly, irrevocably happy.

Even standing at the bay window searching for signs of Julia's return she felt an acute flare of pleasure race through her.

Anthony had proved to be all she could ever have hoped for in a husband. He was considerate, humorous, and a tender lover. And while their occasional battles were spectacular to behold, like two fencer's swords meeting in a shower of sparks, their inevitable reconciliation was equally spectacular. And just as importantly he had proved to be a wonderful father to Julia.

Away from the grim Mrs. Greene and encouraged to discover all the delights of London, she had blossomed into a beautiful and utterly charming young lady. Not even the disappointment at discovering that the London doctors could do nothing to help her walk had dimmed her enthusiasm to experience all that life had to offer.

An enthusiasm that had occasionally tested Rachel's nerves to the very limit.

The thought of Julia brought Rachel's wandering mind back to the matters at hand and she gazed down the busy street for the hundredth time. She had known from the beginning it was a poor notion to allow Julia out of the house without her. Anything might have happened. Who would take care of the poor girl if she were not near?

Pressing her nose to the pane, Rachel was so intent on her anxious survey that she failed to hear the door of the drawing room open and softly close. It was not until warm, wonderfully familiar arms circled her waist that she realized she was no longer alone.

"Good Lord, Rachel, you have been standing at this window for the better part of an hour."

She instinctively leaned back against the strength of her husband's broad chest.

"And I will continue to remain here until Julia returns."

He gave a low chuckle as he dropped a kiss on her golden curls.

"She is perfectly safe in the hands of Mr. Eastgate. What could possibly happen in the middle of Hyde Park?"

Rachel brooded darkly on the young gentleman who had arrived at her doorstep earlier in the day. Granted, he had appeared suitable enough. His attire had been well cut without the foolishness of a dandy and his manner of concern for Julia had seemed sincere. But Rachel was far from convinced that he was a proper companion for her young cousin.

There had been something just a trifle shifty in his narrow eyes and a weakness to his chin that she could not wholly admire.

"We know very little of this Mr. Eastgate," she pointed out in tight tones. "What if he decides to prove his skill with the ribbons and overturns them?"

Anthony's arms tightened about her. "I spoke quite sternly to the young gentleman before they left. I assure you that he was properly terrified."

"I trust you also warned him that Julia is a proper lady?"

"Of course, my dearest. Just as you commanded."

There was no mistaking the amusement laced through his obedient words. With a frown Rachel turned in his arms to regard him in a dangerous manner.

"May I ask what is so amusing?"

His lips twitched as he studied her darkened eyes. "For a woman who feared that she was too unpredictable to be a good wife and mother you have proven to be remarkably predictable in your concern for Julia."

She grimaced in a rueful manner. It was true that she had become deeply protective of Julia. She simply could not bear to think of the girl being hurt, or even disappointed.

"She is very young," she murmured.

"She is old enough to enjoy a few light flirtations. I will see that it goes no further. At least not until she has tumbled madly in love with the proper gentleman."

Knowing that he was once again right and that she was overreacting to a simple ride in the park, Rachel flashed him a provocative smile.

"By then we shall no doubt have another child to fret over."

The dark eyes flared with a smoldering passion that had not dissipated over the past year.

"I certainly intend to give my full attention to making such an event a reality."

His hands cupped her hips to pull her close and she gave a breathy laugh.

"Mr. Clarke, you are shameless."

"Only with my beautiful wife."

Rachel shivered in anticipation. "I suppose you wish to convince me that you have some project that desperately needs our attention in the workroom?"

Over the past year the small workroom had become their sanctuary. It was an unspoken rule that whenever Mr. and Mrs. Clarke disappeared to work on a project that they were not to be disturbed for any reason. Not even a raging fire or the arrival of Napoleon on their doorstep would induce the servants to consider tapping on the door.

"Well, the thought did cross my mind," he breathed, his head lowering to brush his lips over hers in a tantalizing promise.

Rachel's arms lifted to encircle his neck, but even as his lips stroked the line of her jaw there was the distant sound of the front-door knocker echoing through the house. Rachel pulled back with an expression of surprise.

"Who ever could that be?"

Anthony grimaced as he reluctantly straightened his cravat. "Someone with a most extraordinaryly poor sense of timing."

Within moments a sour-faced butler stepped into the room, his stiff formality in direct contrast to the eccentric household.

"Lady Chance and Lady Hartshore to see Mrs. Clarke."

A flare of pleasure shot through Rachel. She knew both her sisters would soon be traveling to their country seats so they could await the arrival of their babies. She cherished every opportunity to be with them while they remained in London.

"Show them in, Fisher."

"At once."

"And ask Mrs. Center to prepare tea."

"Very good."