“The marquess held the weapon out, as formally as if he were passing a sword.Soberly, Ned accepted it. He placed the sacrificial citrus on the table in front of him, and then with one carefulincision, eviscerated it. He speared deep into its heart, hishands steady, and then cut it to pieces. Jenny allotted herself one short moment of wistful sorrow for her afterdinner treat gone awry as the juice ran everywhere.“Enough.” She reached out and covered his hand midstab.“It’s dead now,” she explained gravely.He pulled his hand away and nodded. Lord Blakely took back his knife and cleaned it with a handkerchief.Jenny studied the corpse. It was orange. It was pulpy. Itwas going to be a mess to clean up. Most importantly, it gave her an excuse to sit and think of something mystical to say—the only reason for this exercise, really. Lord Blakelydemanded particulars. But in Jenny’s profession, specifics were the enemy.”

“Jenny’s admonition had the desired effect. Ned drew a deep breath and thrust his arm gingerly into the bag, his mouth puckered in distaste. The expression on his face flickered from queasy horror to confusion. From there, itflew headlong into outright bafflement. Shaking his head, he pulled his fist from the bag and turned his hand palm up.For a long moment, the two men stared at the offending lump. It was brightly colored. It was round. It was—“An orange?” Lord Blakely rubbed his forehead. “Not quite what I expected.” He scribbled another notation.“We live in enlightened times,” Jenny murmured.”

“Jenny: But surely Lord Blakely could not abandon his estates for so long.Gareth: No. Lord Blakely could not. Not unless he had someone he could trust to run his estates in his absence. And Lord Blakely...Well, Lord Blakely did not trust anyone.Jenny: Lord Blakely is talking about himself in the third person, past tense. Its disturbing.”

“She shouldn’t have been beautiful—she was too forward, too freckled, too thin. Still… Oh, to hell with it all. He wasn’t hungry, anyway. He reached out and took her hand, drawing her to him. She drifted near, until she was close enough to kiss. Close enough for him to see the green of her eyes, widening as he turned her hand over, palm up.“There’s something I’ve wanted to do since the first moment I saw you,” he said. It came out close to a whisper.“Oh?” He could feel the puff of breath from that word against his nose.“Don’t even think of arguing.”She shook her head. Her lips opened, an impossible, inviting fraction.He set the fork in the palm of her hand and closed his fingers tightly around hers. “I want you to eat,” he said.”

“What are you planning to dowith all my points?”Points? It took Jenny a moment to remember what he was talking about. Points, when he smiled. She turnedaround slowly and put her hands on her hips.“Your points? Those are my points. I earned them. You can’t have them.”Gareth scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets.“Bollocks. I had to smile very hard for every single one of them. And if you don’t take this elephant and marry me, Iswear to God you’ll never get another point again.”Jenny’s world froze. Outside, she could hear the clear voice of a blackbird singing. It was overwhelmed by theringing in her ears. She turned to Gareth slowly.“What did you say?”“I said, you’ll never earn another point again. I haven’t smiled since you left me, and I miss it.” He kicked at the ground, his eyes tracing the dust. “I miss you.”“No, before that.”“Take this elephant—”“After.”He looked up. That feral light shone in his eyes again, but this time the wild look was a plea. A lion yearning to befreed from its cage. “Take me.” His voice was thick and husky. “Please. Jenny. I’m begging you.” She didn’t know what to say in answer. He’d shocked the words right out of her skin. She could only stare, as some frozen expanse inside her tingled to life. It hurt to want.”

“I’m here to horrify you,” he said. And then, because he couldn’t bear it any longer, he reached out and pulled her to him. She was warm and soft in his arms, and she smelled so deliciously right. He could have inhaled her scent for hours.“Hugo—”He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to answer any questions. He didn’t know who he was or what he wanted or what dreams would come to fill his heart. He only knew that if he couldn’t have her, nothing would ever be right again. And so he kissed her. He tasted her, sweet and steady against him, put his hand in the small of her back and drew her toward him.She kissed him back.“I love you,” he said. The truth took root inside him. For the first time in years, the dark words of his past receded.“But, Hugo…”He set his fingers over her lips. “Let me do this,” he said. “I thought I had to prove myself with money and accomplishments. But those will always ring hollow. They will never be enough. I want to be somebody. Let me be your husband. Let me be the father of your child—of all your children. I got more satisfaction from striking Clermont than I did from any success I found in business.”She pulled back from him. “You struck Clermont?”“Twice. And—that reminds me—I blackmailed him into promising to send your child to Eton.” Hugo tightened his grip around her. “I’ve never pretended to be a good man, you know. It’s just that…I’m yours.” He leaned his head against hers.Her breath was warm against his face. “Did you hit him hard?”“I’m afraid I did.”“That’s my Hugo.” There was a grim satisfaction in her voice. “I love you, you know. If you hadn’t come, as soon as winter set in and the ground became too hard to work, I’d planned to come for you.”“Well, I’m glad I came to my senses,” Hugo said. “You shouldn’t have traveled, not in your condition. Yet curiosity impels me to inquire. What did you plan to do, once you arrived?”“Allow me to demonstrate.” She lifted her face to his, traced the line of his jaw with her fingers. “This.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And this.” She kissed the other corner. “And…” She took his mouth full on, her lips soft against his, tasting of all the things he’d most wanted.“I’d do that,” she whispered, “until you were forced to admit you loved me.”“I love you.”“Well, that’s no fun.” She kissed him again. “Now what excuse do I have?”He drew in a shuddering breath and pulled her closer. “You could make me say it again,” he whispered. “Make me say it always. Make me say it so often that you never have cause to doubt. I love you.”

“After Blakely delivered that infamous and muchrepeated set down, he transferred his gaze to the newMarchioness of Blakely.She shook her head, once. Firmly. “Gareth,” she said dryly. “It is your sister’s wedding day. Behave.”Silence. He’d lifted his chin, in typical Blakely arrogance.The crowd waited for the blast.And then Lord Blakely shrugged and grinned helplessly.Grinned. Helpless. A Blakely.“Oh,” said his sister, from where she stood near him. “Isthat how it’s done? I’ll have to practice that.”Like that, everything society knew about nine generations of Blakelys went up in smoke.Since that day, there had been no question. Lady Blakely had been granted otherworldly powers at birth.Every smile she coaxed from him, every laugh that she surprised from his lips, stood as testament to her arcane abilities.And those that questioned her worth still had only to see the look in his eyes when he watched her to find all theproof they required.”