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They shared a quiet ride back to Brock’s St. James address, then stepped inside, handing
their coats, hats, and gloves to Brock’s bushy-browed butler.

Gavin turned to follow Brock into his library, but the sound of Maddie’s voice at
the top of the stairs stopped him. If he didn’t greet her, she would only chastise
him later. Besides, he was genuinely fond of the minx.

She made her way down the steps. Maddie laughed and turned to someone behind her.
Gavin leaned a bit and looked around his cousin.

Only to find Kira Melbourne descending the steps in a graceful stride. Her simple
gray day dress billowed about her willowy frame, reminding him instantly how she’d
felt in his arms, naked. And as usual in Kira’s presence, he felt himself stir.

Gavin swallowed, trying to moisten his dry mouth. What the hell should he say? He
hadn’t seen her since…that night.

The instant Kira saw him was obvious. Near the bottom of the stairs, she stilled,
flashed him a tentative smile, and hurried toward him in the dark wood and crystal
foyer.

She wanted marriage, expected it. What was he to do?

“Miss Melbourne,” he greeted her with a formal bow.

A moment of confusion washed across her exotic features, before she dipped into a
small curtsey. “Your grace.”

For a long moment, she watched him, clearly wanting something more. And he could not
take his eyes off her. His body responded as if he’d never touched her, again demanding
her full surrender. He felt surrounded by the curious vanilla scent that would always
define Kira—exotic, mysterious, elusive. Lust roared, hot and hungry and nearly overwhelming.

Gavin forced his gaze away to find Maddie watching him with a questioning glance.
“Hello to you, cousin.”

“And to you. How are you?”

He looked at Kira again, torn between his want for her and his conscience. How could
he want James’s fiancée with such unrelenting need? The Daggett lust must be to blame.
Now that it had seized him, would he soon find himself engaging in all manner of despicable
behavior, as his father had, in order to satisfy it?

No. He refused to become a slave to anything so perfidious. He had made a mistake—a
huge one, yes. But from now on, no matter how much he wanted Kira, he would keep his
bloody distance, at least until he decided what the hell to do.

“Gavin?” Maddie prompted.

“What?” He turned back to his cousin, pasting on a pleasant smile. “Oh, I’ve been
very busy. And you?”

“Always on my toes.”

“Not always,” Brock murmured in her ear with a glance at her abdomen, barely swelling
with their coming child.

His friend had not intended anyone to overhear the remark, but Gavin had been standing
too close to miss it. And it scared the hell out of him. Against his will, he cast
a rattled gaze to Kira.

What if she had conceived?

Brock greeted Kira, thankfully diverting her doe-eyed stare elsewhere.

He closed his eyes as a wave of dread slid through him. How could he have been so
stupid
, m
ade such an incredible mistake, legacy of lust or no? James would be hurt, Aunt Caroline
both mortified and livid—

“Brock, I think you offered me a drink,” Gavin reminded.

“Indeed.”

The high-pitched squeal of children came screeching down the stairs. Gavin glanced
up to find Maddie’s daughter, Aimee, and her playmate Molly chasing one another. Molly’s
plump little cheeks were flushed with good health and laughter, a far cry from the
street urchin Brock had “employed” to be a companion to his daughter two years ago.
And Aimee grew more each day, her blond braids swinging about her waist as she tried
to elude Molly with a giggle.

Their son Michael, not yet a year and a half, scooted down the stairs, his baby-thin
dark hair nearly standing up straight.

“You’re it,” cried Molly.

Aimee lunged forward and swiped the other girl’s arm with her little fingers. “You’re
it.”

“Ladies, we have company,” said Maddie as she scooped up the toddler and perched him
on her hip.

Both girls looked up, their faces instantly contrite.

“Sorry,” they mumbled in unison.

“Mama,” the toddler
babbled
, his gray eyes fixed on Maddie.

“Mama loves Michael.” She kissed his nose.

“Shouldn’t you be in the schoolroom?” Brock asked the girls, voice stern.

“Yes,” they murmured.

Maddie tried not to smile. “Then go.”

The girls turned back toward the stairs and after two steps, resumed their game.

“They’re beautiful girls,” Kira told Maddie. “I thank you for introducing them to
me earlier. In fact, I thank you for the invitation to visit here this morning.”

Maddie smiled and took one of Kira’s gloved hands in her own. “It was my delight to
have you here. I only hope you didn’t mind the early hour. I wanted to see you again
and had no time this afternoon.”

“Not at all.”

The ladies drifted toward the door. Kira paused to look back at Gavin. Her eyes told
him she wanted a gesture, something in the way of reassurance. He simply did not have
it to give.

He looked away.

“Let’s have that drink,” Brock suggested.

“Amen.”

Once inside the library, Brock eased the door closed and poured them each a brandy.
Gavin swallowed his in one large gulp.

“How good of you to take the time to savor my fine stock,” Brock drawled.

Gavin shrugged in apology and seated himself on the large green sofa dominating the
room.

Brock paced to the window, which overlooked the sun-drenched garden on this fine spring
day.

“That was an interesting exchange between you and Miss Melbourne.”

Gavin tensed. How much had his friend guessed?

“Tell me you didn’t bed her.”

Exhaling, Gavin thought wryly that his friend had never been slow or subtle. Damnation,
he couldn’t lie. So he said nothing.

Brock turned to him, groaning. “Gavin, Gavin. What will you do now?”

“I—I… don’t know.”

“To marry her would be the obvious answer.”

“Yes.” Gavin swallowed.

“But you’re not entertaining that notion, are you?”

Too restless to sit, Gavin rose, began to pace. “How can I? James would be crushed
if he learned of my behavior. I can only imagine Aunt Caroline’s reaction.” He sighed,
rubbing at the tension centered at the back of his neck. “With such a scandal hanging
over her head, Kira is not fit to be a clergyman’s wife. But a duchess? I’d be a laughingstock.
And that’s before the gossip ensued that I’d filched my own cousin’s fiancée away
from him.”

“Tongues would wag,” Brock conceded.

“And—and she’s half Persian. While I hold her in no blame for that fact, I… I can
trace my lineage nearly back to the last Saxon king. We are of English stock through
and through. What would I do with part Persian children? What if they were ridiculed
their whole lives, just as Kira herself has been?”

Brock sat in the massive mahogany chair behind his desk. “You pose some difficult
questions. But marrying her could end her scandal with Lord Vance and right your wrong
at once.”

“The scandal is a sham,” Gavin muttered. He wished like hell he’d never believed it.
How much simpler his life would be if he’d known Kira’s façade of innocence had been
real.

“She didn’t run away with Lord Vance?” Brock asked.

“No, she did. But the rest of Vance’s vile story is a lie.”

“Are you certain?”

Gavin lowered his head to his hands. “She was a—a…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say the word, to recount just how badly he’d misjudged
her.

Understanding lit Brock’s eyes. “Oh, I see. Well, it should be of some comfort that
she isn’t a loose woman after all.”

Gavin grunted. “More like a shock.”

“Hmmm. Why do you suppose Miss Melbourne allowed you such an intimacy? Lord Vance
obviously wasn’t granted the same privilege, despite two days alone with her.”

Good question. “I don’t know. I’ve asked myself that question a hundred times.” He
stared at the ceiling, wishing someone up there would give him answers. “Did she hope
I would wed her out of guilt? Did she hope that we would be caught so we would be
forced to marry? Is she unable to control her lust?”
Like me,
he thought with disgust.

“Is it possible she let you bed her because she loves you? That is usually an innocent’s
motivation.”

Gavin raised his head and gazed at Brock across the stark, masculine domain. “If she
fancies herself in love with me, it’s temporary, I’m sure.”

Surprise floated across Brock’s face. “Why is that?

With an uncomfortable shrug, he said, “At some point, Kira fancied herself enough
in love with Lord Vance to run away with him. It’s been just a bit over two months
that she did so. For her to allow me to…”
And so easily
. “Well, she’s likely as fickle as a cat. I have no notion if she would marry me,
then cuckold me once she believed herself in love with someone else.”

“Lord Vance might have been a mistake on her part. But if she did not lay with him,
then perhaps she realized early on that he wasn’t the right sort of chap
.”

“He saw her naked,” Gavin broke in, then sighed. “I know that much at least. She has
a birthmark on her hip… and Vance knew all about it.”

Brock said nothing for fully a minute. The air inside the office turned thick and
almost too quiet. Gavin rose and poured himself another brandy
even though
the first one was churning most unpleasantly in his empty stomach.

“Well,” Brock said finally. “I see your points. Miss Melbourne might make the most
disastrous kind of wife, indeed. But I doubt very much that James was expecting a
pure bride. You could always let your cousin marry her and settle in Tunbridge Wells.
After they have a baby or two, no one will—
”

“Stop.” The mental image Brock’s words created nearly incited his stomach to revolt.
Kira and James married? Having children? And he would have to watch?

“Your only other choice is to marry her yourself.”

Gavin swallowed. Brock’s words were ugly, but they were the truth. He sighed, hoping
to fight off some mood, something that felt suspiciously like despair.

“Gavin, why did you bed her?”

The answer to that question was nearly as complex as deciding what to do now that
he had. He only knew the answer involved the tainted Daggett legacy of lust—and it
scared the hell out of him. Gavin began to pace the length of the book-lined room,
the smell of old paper and hot wax permeating the air.

“I—I don’t know. Once I held her, I
simply could not bring myself to let her go. The passion roared inside me. It drowned
out logic, reason, prudence. And it was strong. I’ve never known a feeling its equal.”
He laughed at himself. “God, why am I telling you all this?”

“Because you’re troubled. Besides, you once helped me through something similar.”

“I yelled at you.”

Brock shrugged. “Sometimes that’s the same thing. But I remember that day.” He laughed.
“You told me that men of power should possess self-control. I felt certain you’d never
had an impulsive moment in your life.”

“Until that night with Kira, I do not believe I did.” Gavin scowled. “That is why
I cannot understand what happened. I touched her and… I could no longer think.”

“Do you recall me telling you that love will drive a man to reckless acts in the name
of claiming his lady?”

Gavin zinged a mystified gaze at his friend. “Do you believe I love Kira Melbourne?”

“Are you so certain you don’t?”

Three days later, Kira accepted another invitation to the Taylor town house from Lady
Madeline. She went more than half hoping she would encounter Gavin there, as she had
before. She had not seen him since their last chance meeting in the Taylor’s foyer.
They had not had any conversation about their upcoming marriage. Kira began to worry.
While she believed Gavin was an honorable man, she would like things settled between
them.

But what worried her more was the fact they had not received any sort of correspondence
from James in nearly a week.

When Kira reached St. James Square, Lady Madeline received her with grace, as usual.
She was one of the most beautiful women Kira had ever met, and the warmth of her smile
seemed to light up a room. Lady Madeline seemed not at all affected by Kira’s Persian
heritage. Kira wished more women could be like her, the kind to accept people based
on their merits, not their blood.

Lady Madeline was truly blessed. She and her husband loved one another completely.
That much was obvious. Kira wanted the same for Gavin and herself. Drat, she knew
he was busy with the railroad, but they must talk soon.