Jordan had evidently spoken to her after that first night in the tower, for the housekeeper had been attempting to stop the habit ingrained by a lifetime. She failed as often as not, and Marianna was fervently sorry she had blurted out those words to Jordan. She sighed. “It truly doesn’t matter, Mrs. Jenson. Do as you wish.”

“It does matter. His Grace will be very displeased with me.”

“I will speak to him.” She stood up and moved to the door. “It was only that I was unused to such a response. I’ve grown accustomed to it now.”

It was a lie. She was still nearly as awkward in these surroundings as when she had come. She was not like Alex, who had adapted wonderfully and was happier than she had ever seen him. Why should he not be happy? He had lost everything and then was brought to Cambaron with a bevy of servants eager to cosset and amuse him and a playground a prince might envy. She would have to take care he was not thoroughly spoiled while he was here. When it was time for them to leave, she would not be able to give him anything more splendid than the gamekeeper’s cottage.

Jordan stood waiting beside a light phaeton harnessed to two magnificent bays. “You took your time.” He motioned to the stable boy to hold the horses and took her arm. “Walk with me.”

She immediately tensed, and he smiled sardonically. “Don’t be afraid. I don’t intend to attempt you here in the courtyard in full view of the servants.” He drew her away from the phaeton and walked toward the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

“I’m not afraid. I just don’t like to be touched.”

“A laudable attitude for a young virgin,” he said. “If I wasn’t your guardian, I might argue with you. I’ve noticed signs you could like it very much.” His grip tightened as she tried to pull away. “But since I’ve decided that’s my present lot in life, I’ll make no such remark.”

She snorted.

He smiled. “Do you know I’ll actually miss that less than elegant sound? The ladies in London would swoon rather than-”

“I don’t care what the ladies in London do. According to Gregor, they do nothing but paint teacups and worry about what gown to wear.”

“Oh, they can be persuaded to venture into slightly less shallow waters on occasion.”

“Like Madam Carruthers?” She had not meant to blurt that out.

His smile faded. “Gregor has been less than discreet.”

“He only mentioned…” She tried to shrug carelessly. “You spent two days there.”

“Laura is a lonely woman. She was widowed after only three years of marriage and likes company.”

“You don’t have to make explanations to me. Papa told me it’s the custom for gentlemen in England to take mistresses.”

His lips thinned. “Then Papa is as indiscreet as Gregor.”

“Papa believed both speech and spirit should be free, and one should not be concerned with what others think.”

“Good God, if you hadn’t already told me he was a poet, I’d have guessed it by that singular bit of philosophy. And do you believe the spirit should be free?”

“Of course, don’t you?”

“What I believe is not necessarily safe for you. Laura is not my mistress. We merely amuse each other.” He paused. “I will explain the status of mistress to you at a later time.”

The air was suddenly heavy and hard to breathe. “I’m not interested in your mistresses or this-”

“Good, for I refuse to discuss them further with you.” He leaned against the rim of the fountain. “It’s indelicate for a young virgin to-”

“Will you stop calling me that!”

“I have to keep reminding myself. Gregor will tell you that I have a poor memory when it suits my convenience.” He looked down at the water. “Actually, it does little good in this case. I don’t care a whit whether you’re a virgin or not. In fact, it makes the prospect of teaching you pleasure all the more appealing.”

Heat flooded her face. “Mrs. Jenson said you wished to bid me good-bye. Good-bye, Your Grace.”

“I had a few other things to discuss.” He lifted his gaze from the water. “I want you.”

Shock tore through her. She had not expected that stark, raw sentence. “You want only a woman to sate your lust. Go back to Mrs. Carruthers.”

“I assure you I shall, and many other women besides. I have no desire to have this passion for a stubborn chit who may someday prove to be my enemy. I have the greatest hopes this may be a temporary madness.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m trying to be honest with you in this so you will trust what I say now.” He paused. “I also… like… and admire you. I believe, in time, it’s possible we may be friends.”

She stared at him in astonishment.

“For God’s sake, why do you think you weren’t in my bed on the Seastorm?” he burst out. “You bound me, and you did the same in the tower.”

“I did nothing to you.”

“You bound me,” he repeated through his teeth. “And I have no liking for it.” He drew a deep breath, and then his expression changed and became mocking. “But I’ve accepted it and now must try to wrest something from the situation.”

“What?”

“We will become friends.”

She shook her head doubtfully.

“I repeat, we will become friends.”

His tone was so grim, she found herself smiling. “Or you’ll cut off my head?”

“That’s not the alternative I had in mind.” He turned and strode back toward the phaeton. “That’s all I had to say. I thought you should have time to become used to the idea before I return from London.”

She trailed behind him, staring in bemusement at the straight line of his back. “When will that be?”

“Within two weeks.”

She said with irony, “How kind of you to give me such a long time. Your patience is truly astonishing.”

“I never claimed to be patient. I prefer things done yesterday.” He stepped into the phaeton and took up the reins. “I’m sure you have enough to keep you occupied while I’m gone, and I’m leaving Gregor here to amuse you.”

She was careful not to reveal her relief. “Amuse me or guard me?”

“I’m not worried about you running away. You have too much to lose at present. You have no money, and you wouldn’t cast Alex back into the same situation you faced in Montavia. I assure you, England can be just as cruel to the poor.”

He was echoing every fear she had held since she had decided to come to this country. “I will stay here only as long as I wish.”

“Then we must make sure you wish to stay here until both our purposes are accomplished.”

The Jedalar.

He met her gaze and nodded. “You could agree to give it to me,” he said softly. “We could work together. It would be a good deal easier for you.”

“No, it wouldn’t. That would be true only if our goals were the same.” She started up the steps. “Good journey.”

“Your chaperon will arrive this afternoon,” he called after her.

She turned to look at him. “Chaperon?”

“Gregor suggested we hire a maid to act as your abigail, but I decided we need a more intimidating barrier between us.” He grimaced. “As I find no one more intimidating than Cousin Dorothy, I sent for her.”

“I will not have a chaperon. Merciful heavens, aren’t there enough people at Cambaron?”

“You will think there are when Cousin Dorothy arrives.” He snapped the reins, and the horses sprang forward. “Good luck.”

“Cousin Dorothy?” Gregor was coming down the steps toward her. “What is this about Cousin Dorothy?”

She watched Jordan drive through the gates. “She is coming here to be my chaperon. He sent for her. Who is Cousin Dorothy?”

“Lady Dorothy Kinmar of Dorchester. Jordan’s second cousin.” A sudden smile lit his face. “This is good. Jordan

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