Could a woman raised in this room, in this house, share his vision for rebuilding Erwynn Keep? Would she be happy living in a crofter's cottage until the house was finished?

He glanced around the sitting room.

The answer was no.

But he needed her money if he was to realize his dreams.

Sir Charles's warnings plagued him. Why was Hamlin pushing for the wedding to take place with all possible haste? Perhaps something truly was not right. Even his nose was beginning to itch.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two maids whispering outside the half-closed door. Thinking that their presence heralded the approach of Miss Hamlin, Brenn moved toward the entrance.

"Who's in there?" he heard one ask the other.

"A gentleman caller for Miss Tess."

"Only one? Normally by this hour Miss Tess has a roomful of male callers."

The maid sucked in her breath. "You haven't heard then?""Heard what?""Why, Miss Tess has agreed to marry. That gentleman in there, in fact.""Lor', no! And me not hearing a word! Tell all, Bonnie."Their voices dropped even lower as they shared confidences. Brenn shifted from one foot to the other.

He would give his sword to know what they were saying.

One of the maids giggled, the sound ever so slightly malicious.

Manners be d.a.m.ned. He moved toward the door just in time to hear the first maid cut short the idle talk.

"I best get myself upstairs. She was sick again this morning."

"Oooo, three mornings in a row. I hear the doctor was in yesterday."

"Aye, it's true. Never any doubt in my mind, doctor or no-but don't breathe a word to anyone. She'd

have my head if she thought I'd let it slip. It's a secret. You know the gentry. 'Course I know what she'shiding. When her belly pops out with that babe, they'll all know she was trotting around pretendingnothing was wrong and all the gentry will be scandalized...or at least that is what the master's valet toldme."

"He's been telling you a lot of things lately," the other maid said slyly. Her comment inspired a good bit ofgirlish laughter and then they were both gone-and Brenn had his answer.

Sir Charles had been right.

He stared down at the yellow centers of the rose b.u.t.tons in the bouquet, wishing he hadn't heard the maids talking. For a long moment, his pride warred with his plans for Erwynn Keep.

He was being used. She was pregnant and needed a father for her child.Of course, didn't he want to use Miss Hamlin for her money?But could he accept another man's babe as his own?At that moment, booted footsteps walked purposely across the marble floor toward the sitting room door. Brenn stepped back just as Neil Hamlin, followed by the butler, strode into the room.

"Ah, Lord Merton, what a pleasure to see you."

Brenn shook Hamlin's offered hand. The man sounded friendly enough but Brenn couldn't help noticing

lines of strain around his mouth and that Hamlin's gaze didn't quite meet his own.

"My sister will be down shortly. Would you like Nestor to take those flowers from you?" He didn't waitfor an answer but signaled for the butler to do so immediately.Brenn pulled back. "That's fine. I'll give them to her." He wanted to use his small offering to see if her gaze shifted away from his own like her brother's had. The butler retreated, leaving a silent footman

behind to see to their needs.

"Well," Hamlin said, clapping his hands together to fill the sudden void of conversation. "This is a momentous occasion. We need a gla.s.s of wine to celebrate." He moved toward a wine decanter and

gla.s.ses on a nearby serving table.

Brenn watched him, the words Is your sister carrying another man's child? on the tip of his tongue. He'd always been one for plain speaking but then that had been before he was an earl...before he'd wanted something as much as he did Erwynn Keep. The starched and carefully folded neckcloth around his throat seemed as tight and constricting as a noose.

And then he heard the rustle of skirts and smelled the scent of lilies. He turned...and questions died in his throat.

Miss Hamlin stood in the doorway. Tess. Beautiful Tess. She appeared even more lovely in the light of day than she had in the garden last night, and he no longer questioned his judgment.

Her thick, red-gold hair was piled high on her head but without the fussy curls and jewels of the night before. Brenn imagined that if he pulled out a pin here and another there, it would tumble down to her waist.

Her dress, the shade of a robin's egg, brought out the vivid blue of her almond-shaped eyes. She raised those eyes to his and said, "How are you today, my lord?" in a honey-smooth voice.

It took him a moment to find his own voice. "These are for you." He shoved the bouquet forward, conscious that the flowers paled in comparison to her vibrant beauty.

She moved with a grace that made her seem to float across the floor. Her long, elegant fingertips brushed his as she reached for the bouquet. She didn't wear gloves and he felt the heat of her body all the way down to his toes.

What spell did this woman weave over him?

She lifted the flowers to her nose and he noticed her hands trembled, ever so slightly. "These are lovely," she murmured.

"So are you," he said. The words had come out unbidden; he couldn't have stopped them if he'd tried.

Her lips parted in surprise. Hamlin chuckled. "Merton, you will have to be less direct. You're not on a battlefield anymore but ready to join the ranks of married men. Mark my words, if you talk to my sister that way after the wedding, she'll walk all over you." He laughed at his own small joke.

But Tess didn't join him. Instead, two bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks and, for a moment, Brenn sensed the truth. It was there, plain to see. She was hiding something. Both of them were.

The heat of l.u.s.t was tempered by a slap of cold reality.

His gaze dropped to her slim waist. No sign of breeding-yet.

A woman's trilling voice announced herself from the doorway. "My lord, pardon me for not joining you sooner." An attractive blonde swept into the room.

"Merton, this is my wife, Stella," Hamlin said, gesturing with his winegla.s.s. He handed a gla.s.s to Brenn. "Stella, the earl of Merton."

Brenn bowed over the hand she offered. "Mrs. Hamlin."

"Stella, please," she corrected him enthusiastically. "After all, we are soon to be brother and sister in marriage, are we not? There is no purpose in standing on ceremony." She gave Tess's shoulders a sisterly hug that was not returned. "I am so excited that you are marrying our dear, dear Tess. And what a handsome couple you make. Brenn-I may call you Brenn, no?" She charged on, barely pausing for breath. "Neil tells me your family estate is in Wales."

"Yes, it is."

"And I imagine you wish to return as quickly as possible," Stella said almost gleefully. "Oooo, Neil,please pour a gla.s.s of wine for me.""And you, Tess?" her brother asked. "Do you wish a small sherry?"Tess didn't answer him. Instead, she said to Brenn, "Are you really expecting us to return to Wales?"He answered her honestly. "Yes. Probably the day after the wedding."Stella almost jigged for joy. "What an adventure for you, Tess. Imagine, the wilds of Wales. She's rarely been out of London," she confided to Brenn. "The change of scenery will be good for her. For all of us."

The woman Brenn had met last night on the terrace would have challenged Stella for making such a slur, but now, Tess murmured distractedly, "Yes, it will."

She took a small restless step and then, as if just remembering the flowers in her hand, said, "I should

have these put in water." She would have made a quick exit except Neil stopped her.

"Not yet, Tess. We must toast your happiness. Give the flowers to the servants to arrange."

"Yes, a toast!" Stella echoed happily.

For the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat, Tess appeared ready to toss the insipid bouquet in the air, lift her skirts,

and run. But she didn't. Instead, she handed the flowers to one of the ever-present footmen with the same resolve Brenn had used himself to confront French cannons.

Her brother pushed a gla.s.s of wine in her hand.

"To your happiness," he said.

"Hear, hear," Stella acknowledged, lifting her own gla.s.s.

Brenn sipped, all too aware that his intended had not moved since her brother had forced her to take the gla.s.s. Instead, she ran her thumb back and forth along the gla.s.s's crystal rim.

"Another drink!" Hamlin ordered, having downed his own. He crossed to the wine cabinet to refill it. "We must celebrate your future. By the way, Merton, I will have my man of business in on the morrow, say two o'clock? We'll discuss the wedding contract at that time."

The wedding contract. Fifty thousand pounds. Swallow your pride. Brenn glanced at Tess standing rigid and silent, her reluctance a dart aimed at his deepest doubts. Would fifty thousand be enough? "I'd like a moment alone with your sister." The words were out of Brenn's mouth before he'd even realized his intent.

The request caught Hamlin off guard. Brother and sister exchanged quick glances. "A moment only," Brenn pressed, a hint of steel in his voice.

"Of course you can," Stella said cheerily. "After all, I have a wedding to plan. Imagine, it must be all done by next Wednesday! Neil, darling, can we not hold it here instead of the church?"

"The church," he insisted curtly, still frowning at Brenn. He forced a smile. "But the wedding breakfast will be here." He paused. "I will not be far," he told his sister. With a stiff bow, he left the room, Stella traipsing at his heels and prattling on about wedding arrangements.

Tess looked as if she might follow them. Brenn dissuaded her by walking to the door and shutting it.

She flinched at the sound of the lock clicking in place. Her gaze flew up to meet his. There was definitely panic in her expressive eyes. She looked away, moving across the room to the front window overlooking the street.

"You don't want this marriage," he said without preamble. "Why?"

She turned, facing him, and he saw a flash of the spirit he'd seen in her last night. "My lord, I don't understand your question. Are you attempting to cry off?"

Brenn wasn't about to walk away from her now. He had given her his word. He crossed the carpet to her, stopping when they were less than a hand's distance apart. She observed his approach with the watchful caution of someone being stalked by a wolf.

He spoke. "We each have our own reasons for wanting this match. Let us clear the air and go on about it." Even as he said this, he wondered how much he was willing to reveal about his financial affairs. He didn't want her to bolt.

She started to speak. "I-" But then she stopped. Her chin came up to a stubborn angle and she glared at him almost defiantly. In a low, flat voice, she said, "I have nothing to confide. You are saving me from last night's scandal and I thank you."

Brenn felt the swift rise of anger. Why was she being so b.l.o.o.d.y difficult?

Why was he pressing the issue?

After all, what did it matter if she had been with another man or not? He was marrying her for her fortune. Then why did her refusal to be honest make him a little crazed?

Because it did, with a primitive anger at her stubbornness. And because it mattered, he resolved the issue with the same audacity he'd demonstrated on the battlefield.

He took her by both arms and kissed her.

At first she opposed him. She attempted to turn her head away, placing her hands on his chest. But something deep and primal that had been lurking within him from the moment she'd first walked into the room now urged him to press forward, to make her respond and bend to him.

It wasn't only l.u.s.t. He liked the taste of her. Very much. More than he'd antic.i.p.ated.

To his satisfaction, ever so slowly, she relented. He deepened the kiss. She responded, tentative at first and then with growing pa.s.sion.

His tongue touched hers. She started to draw back but he wouldn't let her. His hand followed the curve of her spine, keeping her close to him.

Her nipples hardened. He could feel them even through the layers of clothes between them and he knew he could have her. Boldly, he pressed himself against her, wanting her to feel his desire.

She caught her breath, making a small sound of surprise. Brenn looped her arm over his shoulder while his other hand held her captive. Slowly, deliberately, he began making love to her with his tongue. He knew how to pleasure a woman. He'd learned the art of making love in eight countries.

And one of the things he'd learned was that not every partner sparked this sudden wild desire in him or responded with such innocent inhibition. Her body fit his. He rolled his hips against hers, aping the movements of his tongue. She moaned, both arms now around his neck, and he cupped her b.u.t.tocks and lifted her slightly, the better to position himself close to her.

He grabbed hold of the material of her skirt, wanting to feel her, to see if she was hot, ready. He wanted the barriers removed between them- A knock on the door was their only warning. They broke apart immediately and managed to place a small sofa between them just as Hamlin entered the room.

The smile on his face did little to mask the anxiousness in his eyes. "So, I hope the two of you have had a moment to get to know each other," he said with a false heartiness that made Brenn wonder what he had feared would happen when they were alone.

Her color high, Tess rea.s.sured him with a small laugh. "Lord Merton was telling me about Wales."

Brenn didn't like how easily the small falsehood had come to her lips. No, she was no virginal miss. No woman could respond with such wanton abandonment and still be untouched. Whether she carried another man's brat or not, he wanted her with a force that was startling. He wanted his seed inside her, to mark her and bind her to him.

"I am anxious to show Miss Hamlin Wales." He glanced at her lips. They were still rosy red and slightly swollen from their kiss. "Spring is always such a fertile time."