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He hadn’t intended to ruin Kira. He did not want to hurt her now—or ever. Still, Gavin
did not voice these sentiments or any other, knowing anything he said would be the
wrong thing.

“Damn you, how?” Darius demanded.

Unfortunately, it had been all t
o
o easy. Once he had held her, he simply couldn’t stop. Even last night, she’d uttered
touch me
so softly, with such earnest blue eyes, he’d been unable to release her. Nor could
he deny that touching her was an aphrodisiac
and more. Something about her went straight inside him and dismissed reason and sanity.
Something compelled him to possess her at every opportunity possible, something that
overrode all good sense
,
despite the fact
nothing
had ever tested his reason in such a way before.

Gavin very much feared that
“
something
”
was the bad Daggett blood. His father had described the very same phenomenon. Despite
the fact making love to Kira felt so incredibly right, genuine remorse for the wrong
he had done to her attacked him.

“You bloody lothario,” Darius growled between clenched teeth. “When Lord Vance is
disgraced and my sister is safe from his kind, I will come after you.”

The rage in Darius’s dark face told Gavin he was very serious. And even though he
knew nothing he said could bring back Kira’s virginity—even if he wanted to give it
back—Gavin felt compelled to say something to ease the situation between them.

“I admire your sister very much.”

The rage on Darius’s face sharpened. “But not enough to marry her.”

“I cannot.”

“That’s bloody rubbish!” Darius leaned in, aggressive with fists of anger. “You choose
not to marry her.”

Darius could never fathom the scandal in his family’s past or understand all Gavin
had yet to live down. Nor could he understand the sense of duty he possessed to Aunt
Caroline. And the responsibility of his title and estates… Any man of the peerage
would understand that having a Persian duchess, even if only half, would, at best,
raise brows. At worst, it would make him look the most irresponsible sort of fool.

Even more, Darius would never understand his own inner struggle against himself and
his legacy of tainted blood or the ruin that indulging it could lead to.

Cursing again, Darius leaned away, releasing his fists. “I want your promise. I want
your vow that once we leave Cornwall behind, you will not attempt to stop your cousin
from marrying my sister.”

Darius asked for the impossible. “They will make one another miserable. Kira needs—
”

“Do
not
presume to tell me what my sister needs. At the moment, she requires a husband of
good reputation and nothing more. Do you mean to take that away from her as well?”

Gavin hesitated. “She is not a clergyman’s wife.”

“I know that. But you’ve forced the issue now. What if Kira should conceive? What
then, Lord High-and-Mighty?”

Yes, what? He righted his coat, tidied his cravat. Lord, he would love to see a child
of his and Kira’s creation, but it would ruin her life. “I am not the type of man
to let my child or its mother do without, but do not make both her and James unhappy
for life.”

Darius regarded him with a hostile stare. The men took one another’s measure in a
moment of volatile silence.

Finally, Gavin sighed. “Tonight, let us focus on Lord Vance. We cannot afford to delay
on this issue any longer. I am as eager as you to see him punished for what he plotted
to do to Kira.”

Teeth clenched, Darius hesitated, glaring at him. Long moments passed, and Gavin tried
not to squirm under the man’s intense fury.

“Then we will catch him. But do not imagine that you have heard the last on this subject
from me.”

Gavin had no trouble believing that Darius meant every word he said.

* * * *

The night came in a flurry of fog and low clouds. The moonless sky hung dark and mysterious.
Darius and Gavin rode toward Fentlet Manor, exchanging very few words.

“According to my sources in Vance’s household, his lordship has been courting one
local girl, a retired Colonel’s daughter,” Darius began. “He plotted their elopement
for tonight. The other girl is a farmer’s daughter seeking the excitement of London.
She’s a pretty thing with big blue eyes and a crown full of red hair. Apparently Vance
has promised to see her to London when next he travels there, which he told her would
be tonight.”

Darius had done a good job at infiltrating the viscount’s household and discerning
his plan. Gavin was impressed with Kira’s brother. He was smart, resourceful, and
determined to see justice prevail.

“Where are we going now?”

“There’s an abandoned church adjacent to Vance’s property. He’s told both of the girls
to meet him there, rather than risk having them journey to his house where too many
servants could be witness to whatever he plans next.”

Gavin nodded. Again, Darius’s findings were perfect. The man might be a mere shade
over twenty, but he carried himself with far more wisdom.

A half mile from the abandoned church, they dismounted from their horses and secured
the animals to trees. As leaves swayed in the warm wind, they set off on foot in the
dark, each step through the fragrant spring grass taking them closer to their prey.

Finally, the
y
arrived at the ruins. Darius withdrew his pistol as they approached the blackened
carcass of the burnt-out chapel. Gavin grabbed his gun as well.

As they crept toward the building, they found a pair of sentries in dark clothing.
To avoid detection, Gavin and Darius crouched behind a convenient bush and studied
the guards.

The first looked unfamiliar, but he wore a ragged brown hat that hid his face in shadow.
Having been very close to the other, however, Gavin knew immediately he was the man
with the grotesquely scarred lip.

The two thugs nodded as they passed one another, then strode on, intent on circling
the building again.

Gavin glanced at Darius, who nodded. They waited in the humid spring night for the
guards to turn their backs. Finally, they each disappeared around opposite corners
of the place.

He and Darius rose to action. The hum of crickets chirping covered the sound of their
footsteps.

“I’ll go `round to the front, dispense with the guard, and find a way in,” Darius
whispered. “You take the back and the other guard. When I give the signal, we’ll trap
Lord Vance between us.”

Gavin nodded.

“I want the swine taken alive, if possible.” Darius gripped his weapon tighter. “I
want him able to endure the humiliation and censure my sister has.”

Unable to disagree with the younger man’s wish, Gavin nodded again. Darius turned
away.

Tension hung thick in the air
as
Gavin crept around one side of the black, fire-licked walls,
and
Darius around the other. Gavin’s palms turned damp as he gripped the weapon. His heart
pounded. Would they catch the bloody bounder who had tried to sell Kira into prostitution?
Gavin hoped so, but thus far Vance had proven as slippery as the snake he was.

While Gavin could not marry Kira, he could end this nightmare for her. And perhaps
in exposing Vance’s scheme to the world, he could help redeem her reputation, at least
somewhat.

Soon, Gavin snuck up behind the thug with the brown hat. As he approached the man’s
broad, hulking back, he raised his Blanch four-barreled pistol. Quickly, Gavin knocked
the fiend’s hat off with one hand, and as the man whirled to face him, he slammed
the heavy pistol down on the guard’s head. Instantly, the burly man fell to the ground
in a heap.

Suddenly, a cry rent the air. Darius? The tension in Gavin’s stomach tightened into
a painful bite as he spun around. Another scream followed, this one higher pitched.
Gavin realized both screams sounded distinctly female.

Vance had his female victims inside.

Gavin’s heart took off like a skittish horse, galloping until it roared in his ears.

He entered the abandoned building through a crumbling arch that had once been a door
at the back of the church and clung to the shadows against the half-standing walls.
Stone stumps sat in rows where the wooden pews had once risen upon them. Stained glass
lay in shambles on the floor at the far end of the building, refracting what little
light the moon sliced through the thick clouds.

Then Lord Vance set a lamp between two squirming supine figures at the altar.

Ducking behind the first of the stones of the pews, Gavin made his way to the next
on his hands and knees. Still hidden in shadow, he crept closer and closer until he
began to discern the girls’ bare feet and calves dangling over the slabs on which
they lay.

Lord Vance eyed one with a jaundiced gaze. Gavin rose up on his haunches so he could
discern the girl’s condition. He was shocked to find them both completely naked, bound
hand and foot by chains to the large stone slab.

Horror swept through Gavin. Bloody hell, what kind of animal was Vance?

Then Kira’s words came back to haunt Gavin.
He only knew of my birthmark because, after he offered me marriage and promised to
take me to Gretna, he took me toward London, tied me to a bed, and stripped me naked
.

Lord Vance examined the redheaded girl’s breasts dispassionately. “Shame on you, Charlotte.
Your dresses led me to believe you were far more buxom. Did you stuff them?”
Charlotte’s muffled scream let Gavin know the fiend had gagged her.

“It’s of no consequence, I suppose. Some men appreciate a small-breasted woman,” he
muttered. “Though why men appreciate big breasts is beyond me. They’re like giant
cow udders.” He shuddered.

Then he lowered his hand between her legs.

Charlotte roared, her body arching, bucking. Lord Vance only held her down with a
steely hand at her hips.

The shadows prevented Gavin from seeing all, but he knew what Vance was about. The
thought sickened him. Then he remembered Kira. She had been through this? Vance had
touched her in this manner? She would have been bloody terrified and horrified by
the degradation he’d forced her to endure.

Gavin’s temper reared until he began to see red. He glanced at the far end of the
altar, but found it empty. Damnation, where was Darius? Gavin was beyond ready to
fight.

Vance finally withdrew his hands from the redhead with a smile, then patted her cheek.
“You’ve been a good girl, Charlotte. Your virginity is most pleasing.”

Charlotte’s taut body language told Gavin the girl was outraged enough to kill.

Gavin felt his stomach turn. How could Vance be so twisted, so cold? How could he
live with himself for making a fortune in innocent girls’ torture and victimization?

Vance then turned his attention to the other girl.

“Beatrice, is your hymen still intact or have you been naughty?”

The girl flung her head from side to side, screaming behind the barrier of her gag.
She was as ready to fight as Charlotte—but equally bound by chains.

Gavin winced as he saw Vance’s hand disappear between Beatrice’s thighs. Though the
girl writhed and bucked, the evil viscount finished his examination with ease.

He had to stop this, Gavin thought. Now. Scanning the windows behind the altar, he
still found them empty. Where the hell was Darius?

“Excellent,” Vance purred. “How pleasing that both of you are so pure.” Vance ran
a dispassionate hand over Beatrice’s breasts. “And you will be especially popular
with the gentlemen, for you have the kind of breasts most men salivate over.” He rubbed
his hands together. “I’m going to be rich.”

Both of the girls cried out, Charlotte arching in fury.

Vance ignored them. “Not as wealthy as if I’d succeeded with Miss Melbourne.” He pouted
for a moment. “But you two will do. And perhaps she is not lost to me yet.”

The twisted knave still had designs on Kira? No. Oh, no. Vance would
never
touch her again.

To hell with waiting!

With a roar, Gavin rose up and sprinted to the altar, pistol in hand. Lord Vance whirled
at the sound, withdrawing a knife from a sheath strapped to his thigh. As Gavin drew
close, the viscount lunged at him. Gavin raised his gun, arm trembling with the need
to shoot. Lord knew he burned to do it. But Darius wanted Vance alive to experience
the kind of humiliation Kira had, and Gavin began to believe death was too easy for
the villain.

He took a step back and regarded the viscount with all the hate that seethed in his
heart.

“Your grace, how odd to see you here.” Vance looked coiled and ready to spring.

“Let them go,” Gavin ordered, nodding at the girls.

“I think not.”

The viscount spoke as casually as one discussing the weather, and it made Gavin grit
his teeth.