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Oh, she’d handled that very badly. James was likely right; she should have turned
the other cheek. But she’d been unable to hear so many false aspersion
s
cast upon her character day after day, from her neighbors back in Suffolk, from Mrs.
Baycliffe and Mrs. Howland. And worst of all, from the duke himself. She’d had far
more than she could stomach, and tonight
she
had refused to pretend she did not hear or that their slurs did not bother her.

Tears came, and she let them cascade in hot tracks down her cheeks. Tonight she would
hurt; tomorrow she would rise again and find a way to overcome the injustice of Lord
Vance’s lies and her Persian blood…somehow.

* * * *

Gavin watched Kira stumble away from the party toward the Baycliffe’s garden. He made
his way to the door. James followed close behind.

He tried not to be angry that Lady Becker voiced the thought of nearly every guest
at the party. But he was. Damned angry. Now that everyone knew Kira to be James’s
fiancée, such confrontations reflected badly on the family. Kira’s outburst had not
helped matters either.

Still, what had infuriated him most was the hurt on her expressive face.

Reaching for the door, Gavin decided he was an idiot. Likely Miss Melbourne was every
bit as wanton as Lady Becker exclaimed to everyone in the card room—he knew that.
Still, he remembered from boyhood how he’d felt when he had been ridiculed for his
father’s behavior.

It would not do, however, to develop sympathy for the enemy. His aunt had received
a chilly reception from her neighbors tonight, all because of Kira Melbourne. He must
concentrate on that fact
,
as well as
the actions necessary to rid her from Norfield Park and their lives.

“Gavin, why are you hesitating?” James demanded. “If you’ve no intent to go outside
and comfort Miss Melbourne, then step aside and allow me to do so.”

Comforting the beauty would only encourage her to stay. That he could not allow.

“James, I should go out alone. Consider that if you, her fiancé, venture to the garden
alone to speak with her, there will only be more talk. I can fetch her back to the
coach if you’ll have it brought `round and collect your mother, and we can be gone
in under a quarter hour. Agreed?”

His cousin hesitated with good reason: his argument had no sound logic. Gavin felt
certain tongues would likely wag even more if he spent time alone with Kira Melbourne
in the garden.

But he had a purpose other than to comfort her. He must seize every advantage to see
her gone.

“If—if you think so.” James shrugged, looking undecided.

“Indeed, I do. Find Aunt Caroline.”

Before James could say anything else, Gavin stepped outside and followed the meandering
path framed by a profusion of greenery and blossoms, into the heart of the garden
that was Mrs. Baycliffe’s pride and joy.

He tread quietly, listening for sounds of Kira’s whereabouts. It didn’t take long
before he heard a sob, followed by a sniffle.

Another few steps brought him to the wrought iron bench beside a half-naked statue
of Cupid. There, Kira sat alone.

The clouds above parted and moonlight suddenly rained down on her in silvery light.
She seemed to glow with radiance. As usual, his blood rushed fiercely south. But when
he saw her shoulders shaking, again heard her cry, something in his stomach tightened.
Gavin swore he could hear the loneliness in her tears.

He swallowed, appalled by his hesitation. He was here to take advantage of Kira in
a vulnerable moment, persuade her
that
, since
she’d been hurt by the gossips
,
life would not be any easier for her as James’s wife.

And yet he held back. Blast it all, why?

Kira sobbed once more, hugging herself as if no one else in the world would, and red-nosed,
she raised her head to dry her tears with her fingers. Then she saw him.

Instantly, her face changed from soft and aching to accusing. Gavin did not like the
manner in which she closed herself off from him so quickly, so easily. It was illogical,
certainly. After doing his utmost to oust her from the family, he should not expect
otherwise. But logic did not change the fact he resented her exclusion.

“Did you come to gloat?” she challenged.

“No.”

Now. Say it now! Tell her she does not belong here.

And yet he remained silent.

She dried a stray tear from her cheek and glared at him. “What do you want?”

Kira had given him another opportunity, even more perfect than the last
,
in which to persuade her to cry off her engagement and leave.
Say something!

Yet when he looked at her blue eyes rimmed in red, he simply couldn’t hurt her anymore
tonight. Lady Becker and her sister had already hurt her enough tonight. Despite the
perfect opportunity to press his case, it seemed unfair, even appalling, to inflict
more pain on her now.

He was a bloody fool.

“James was concerned about you,” Gavin said finally, easing his clenched teeth long
enough to speak. “He’s having the coach brought round the front so we might leave.”

Suspicion and surprise both crossed her beautiful face. “Thank you.”

She looked like a dark goddess sent to earth to tempt him, and in that moment Gavin
yearned to touch her, the soft skin of her neck, the opulence of her mouth, the tempting
swell of her bosom. He clenched his fists to keep his hands to himself.

Forget being a bloody fool; he was
every
kind of fool.

One thing was certain: he had to get away. Being alone in a garden with Kira would
only give him improper thoughts the longer he stayed.

Gavin said nothing to her. He merely sent her a short nod, then turned away, cursing
himself with every step.

* * * *

During the tense ride back to Norfield Park, Darius watched his sister try her best
to look unaffected by the evening’s events. But the way she pressed her lips together
and folded her hands too tightly in her lap told him that she fought tears.

No one in the carriage spoke to her. Mrs. Howland’s rounded chin looked pointed in
anger. Her son seemed surprised by Kira’s unexpected outburst. Darius knew such events
to be rare, but his sister had spirit, especially when pushed.

The duke continued to watch Kira in contemplative silence. In fact, Cropthorne’s eyes
were always on her, and Darius did not like it. His high-and-mightyship might not
approve of Kira as his cousin’s bride, but the man wanted her for himself. Darius
read the lust in Cropthorne’s dark eyes. He also knew the duke believed the worst
about Kira. And though Darius hoped his sister’s debacle with Lord Vance had taught
her to be less trusting, he feared Kira was not immune to Cropthorne. Something about
the way she looked at the duke told him so.

That could easily spell trouble.

The coach rolled to a stop in front of Norfield Park, mercifully ending a tense journey.
Darius stepped out after Mrs. Howland and turned to help Kira alight. Before James—or
worse, the duke—could escort her inside, Darius did so. It was time they talked.

The evening formalities were dispensed with quickly, requiring very little conversation.
James looked as though he wished to speak with Kira, but Darius hoarded her, not feeling
guilty in the least about protecting his soft-hearted sister.

Finally, they were alone in her room, decorated in elegant yet feminine tones of rose,
cream, and gold. Kira belonged in such comfort. He hoped that marriage to James would
give her that without the hardship of scandal someday.

Kira sat on a plush pink dressing stool and shot him a downtrodden glance. “Well,
that was certainly a cheerful evening.”

Darius shrugged. “You knew before you went it wasn’t likely to be fun.”

“True.” She frowned. “I said too much. I should have walked away—
”

“It’s done. In a manner of speaking, I’m glad you said something to defend yourself.”
He smiled wryly. “Though I might have been tempted to put things a bit more delicately.”

She smiled in return. “Yes, but you are far more reasonable than me.” Her smile fell.
She looked at him with imploring eyes. “I felt wretched; their words were so terrible
and untrue. It was horribly unfair
,
and I simply could not tolerate their prattle anymore.”

“I know.”

With a sigh, Kira bent and removed her slippers. “James thought I should have turned
the other cheek.”

The pain in Kira’s face angered Darius. “His opinion is but one. Besides, as a preacher,
he must do such things.”

“That is true.” Her downcast gaze seemed to cling to the rich floral carpet beneath
her. “And when we wed, I shall have to learn to turn the other cheek as well, I suppose.”

“Likely, yes. But you expected more from Mr. Howland.”

She hesitated. “I did. It’s foolish, really. James contradicting that redheaded witch
and her friends would have solved nothing. But I wanted him to say
something
in my defense.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t. I sound ungrateful.” She sighed. “James is willing to marry me to help repair
Lord Vance’s damage to my reputation, at great risk to his professional stature. He’s
never once asked me if I did share a bed with Vance. He merely assumed I didn’t because
I’m a ‘good person
,
’ as he puts it. And here I am, questioning why he wouldn’t defend me to a group of
gossips I should not have allowed to hurt me.” Kira slapped a hand across her eyes
and began to cry silently.

With their mother in Persia and disinterested in her Christian children and their
father traveling the globe—in Ceylon according to his last letter—Darius and Kira
had only each other. He was determined to protect her. In truth, he wanted to save
her, prove her innocence, if possible.

Darius rose and crossed the room, stopping at his sister’s feet to kneel. He took
her hands in his, appalled to see that she trembled. “Everything will end well. You’ll
see.”

Kira glanced up at him, blue eyes drenched in tears and confusion. Darius hurt for
her all over again.

“Do you think that is even possible?”

He nodded. “I know it is. Try to sleep now. Matters will seem less dim tomorrow. They
always do.”

“You’re right. Thank you.” She sent him a wobbly smile.

He kissed her forehead. “We shall talk more tomorrow, if you need.”

With that, he left, making his way to the equally elegant guest room he had been given.
Closing the door behind him, Darius began to plan. He paced the blue and green carpet,
glanced out into the night from his window, all the while devising a path for his
sister’s happiness once again—and plotting Lord Vance’s downfall.

* * * *

“What is happening?” Aunt Caroline asked Gavin moments after they arrived home from
the Baycliffe’s assembly. “Have you made any progress with that…woman? Tonight was
nothing less than mortifying, and she seems as determined as ever to marry James,
despite the fact she will drag his name through the mud with her. And why? She does
not love James.”

His aunt sank to the parlor’s blue sofa and dissolved into noisy, sobbing tears. Gavin
watched the golden-orange firelight play across her distraught, softly wrinkled features.
Sighing, he rubbed his aching forehead with his palm.

Gavin had no illusions that the woman in question was Kira Melbourne, or that his
aunt wanted to know why he had not yet succeeded in removing her from their lives.

He sat beside her and stared into the fire. “Miss Melbourne is very determined to
marry James. I did my utmost to point out the harm that could befall him because of
their union.”

But I could not take advantage of her moment of weakness tonight.
Why?

Aunt Caroline rolled her eyes. “She would hardly care about that. She does not care
about him!”

Gavin sighed, finding Aunt Caroline a bit theatrical. But he understood that emotion
drove her, fear for her son, for the family, and the gossip that would soon swallow
them whole if Kira Melbourne wasn’t somehow persuaded to end her engagement.

“I also offered her ten thousand pounds to leave,” he admitted.

Shock rushed across Caroline’s face. “Miss Melbourne did not take it?”

“She refused the money completely.”

And Gavin was forced to admit that fact still stunned him. Everyone wanted money;
why should Miss Melbourne be different? And yet she was. She continued to shock him
with that fact over and over.

“Likely she refused so that she could make a demand for more,” his aunt said bitterly.

“She said, in fact, that no amount of money would tempt her to leave James.”

“Truly?” Caroline blinked in surprise. “I suppose she believes that marriage to an
upstanding man like my son will somehow redeem her grievously inappropriate behavior
with Lord Vance. That can be the only reason she would turn down such an offer.”