"There is a man I have met..."

Jeannie rolled her eyes. "A man? You meet legions of men every night, n'est-ce pas?"

"Yes, but this one is different. He has no wealth, no social position, nothing to recommend him, and yet I find him infinitely attractive. I wondered if... well, what you would think about taking such a man for a lover."

One of Jeannie's brown eyebrows shot up. "Your aunt Gabriella... you know she would not approve."

"I'm well aware of that. She wants me to choose a man of distinction, someone with money, perhaps even a title. She thinks that will make me happy."

"What do you think, cherie?"

"I don't really care about those things."

Jeannie reached over and squeezed her hand. "I believe in the end, you will 'ave to choose a man who can provide certain things for you, a man who moves among those with the same kind of wealth that you have been raised with. But you are young yet. Though your aunt has kept the secret well guarded, you are an innocent where men are concerned. If you want this man-if 'e can lead you into the world of passion that will be so big a part of your future, then I think you should 'ave 'im." Jeannie smiled. "Every woman deserves one man who can give 'er the dreams of 'er heart."

"Even if those dreams can't last?"

The older woman nodded. "Oui, cherie. Especially if those dreams cannot last."

Lee turned to stare out the window, her mind swollen with turbulent thoughts. "I shall think about it, Jeannie. My birthday is only a few weeks away. It is past time I began to make a life of my own. It seems the only way a woman my age is allowed to do that is either to marry or choose a man who will act as a protector. I've promised my aunt and I intend to keep my word. But perhaps between now and then, I can choose something for myself."

Jeannie smiled. "Do whatever it is your 'eart tells you. I lost my Robert, but for a time I loved him and 'e loved me. I would not trade the short time we 'ad together."

Lee thought of Caleb Tanner. Jacob would be returning soon and Caleb would be moving on.

Perhaps in a way, he would make the perfect lover.

8.

"I am terribly sorry to disturb you, miss, but there is a Mrs. Hickam here to see you." Jones, the butler, stood perfectly erect, pale skin showing in the part through the middle of his hair.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones. I'll speak to her in here, if you please." Annie Hickam was here? Had the poor thing walked all the way from Buford Street? If she had, the matter must be important. Lee's heart kicked worriedly into gear.

Jones made an elegant bow, making the curls bob next to his ears. Departing the Cirrus Room, he returned a few minutes later with "Mrs." Annie Hickam in tow. She was staring upward as she walked in, awed by the chandeliers and the scene of cherub-filled clouds in a blue sky painted on the ceiling.

"Gor-ain't this bloomin' grand!" She spun herself around to look at the room from different angles, her simple brown skirt belling out around the scuffed brown shoes on her feet.

"Hello, Annie. It's good to see you." Lee greeted her with a smile and reached for her hand and for the first time Annie seemed to realize where she was.

"Afternoon, Miss," she said, looking a little embarrassed. "Thanks for lettin' me in."

"I'll admit I'm a little surprised you have traveled so far from the city. Is everything all right?"

Annie released a weary breath. "I don't know, Miss. That's why I come."

"Why don't we sit down and I'll have Mr. Jones bring us some tea."

Annie shook her head, self-consciously toying with the cuff on her plain white blouse. "Oh, no, Miss, I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"It's all right. I promise it's no trouble at all." She motioned to the butler, who still stood guard at the door, and he turned and disappeared down the hall. As soon as Jones slipped out of sight, Lee urged Annie over to one of the cream brocade sofas. The tall woman sank down wearily onto the seat.

"All right," Lee said. "Now tell me what has upset you enough to travel all the way across London."

"It's Mary, Miss. She's gone."

"Gone? What do you mean? Gone where?"

"That's just it. None of us has the slightest notion. The last time we seen her was three nights past. Mary went to bed like the rest of us. She was already in her room when I doused the lamp next to little Jilly's cradle. Next mornin', Mary wasn't there. We thought maybe she got up early and left to visit friends, but if she did, she never come back."

"Have you spoken to the authorities?"

"Yes, Miss. Only just this mornin' before I left town. The night watch promised to keep an eye out, but I can tell ya, Miss, I am fearful. This ain't like our Mary... not a'tall."

A noise in the hall diverted Lee's worry for an instant. She watched Jones roll the tea cart into the salon, thinking no, this isn't like Mary at all. She was a sweet girl, rather shy, and not one to go off on her own. She had been easy prey for young Freddie Hully-and she was still desperately in love with him.

"I can't imagine where she might have gone," Lee said, walking toward the tea cart. "If she'd had enough money, she might have followed Freddie-not that it would have done her any good."

"No, Miss. The boy was up to no good where poor Mary was concerned."

Lee began to pour the tea, catching the flowerlike scent of the chamomile. "I'll take you back to the city and speak to the authorities myself. My aunt can consult Lord Claymont. Perhaps he'll be able to help."

"Thank ya, Miss. Rose, Sarah, Helen, and me-we knew ya would help us."

It was several hours later that Vermillion returned to Parklands from her trip into town, no less frustrated than Annie had been. The Magistrates' Office refused to believe anything untoward had occurred. They had found no sign of Mary, neither dead nor injured. No body meant no crime. In a way, Lee was grateful for the hope that provided.

She had spoken to Aunt Gabby, of course, who had little interest in the house in Buford Street but had always been supportive. Gabriella was sad to think that one of the poor girls might have fallen into even worse trouble than she had faced already.

Her aunt's concern only heightened Lee's worry.

Restless and unable to clear her disturbing thoughts, she dressed in a cinnamon serge riding habit and made her way out to the stables. Noir and two other of Parklands's Thoroughbreds were already on the road to Newmarket. They'd had to hire a walker, a big man named Jack Johnson, to get the horses there, but the three racing days were important and the stakes were high, a prize that would be poured back into the development of the stable.

Parklands didn't race many horses, but Lee was proud to say the few they owned were winners.

Tomorrow morning, Caleb Tanner and Jimmy Murphy would be leaving for the event and the following day she and her aunt would make the journey.

The sun was high as Lee stood next to the fence, watching the mares and colts romp playfully in the field, but her mind kept returning to Mary and her worry that something dreadful might have occurred.

"What's the matter? You look like you lost your best friend."

She turned at the sound of Caleb Tanner's deep voice, looked up at him and sighed. "One of them, at any rate." She told him about Mary and the house in Buford Street, explained that the girl was five months gone with child, and that she had disappeared. Why she confided in Caleb she couldn't say, but she felt better once she had.

"I'm so worried about her. I wish I knew for certain that she is safe."

"You say the girl was a chambermaid here at Parklands?"

"Yes. That is how she met Freddie Hully, the boy who fathered her babe. He worked for the blacksmith in the village."

"What do you think could have happened to her?"

There was something in his tone that made her glance up at him. "I don't know. She had very little money. I can't imagine why she would have gone off the way she did."

"Perhaps Freddie came back and she simply ran away with him."

Lee pondered that, a thought that had also occurred to her. "I suppose it's possible." She gazed off toward the horses galloping across the field. The little sand-colored colt she called Loch kicked up its heels, then sprinted like fury across the meadow.

"Perhaps we'll hear from her," Lee said, her thoughts still on Mary. "I suppose it doesn't do the least bit of good to worry."

"No, not the least. Why don't I saddle Grand Coeur for you? A nice long ride ought to help clear your head."

"Yes, that's what I was hoping when I came out here."

His eyes remained on her face. "Perhaps today I could join you."

Even from a distance, she could see the hunger in his eyes, the heat he made no attempt to hide. She knew what he wanted. He had made himself more than clear. But she wasn't afraid of him and she was tired and worried and riding with Caleb would certainly turn her thoughts away from poor Mary.

"All right. I would be pleased if you would join me."

Caleb walked into the shadows of the barn, thinking of Vermillion and the invitation he had just received. She knew he wanted her. His imagination conjured images of her lush breasts and small waist, and how it would feel to have her naked and writhing beneath him. Desire for her clenched in his loins and he went painfully hard.

Caleb ignored a sweep of lust and forced the images away. He had other, more important matters to consider and he would do well to remember that. He thought of the woman, Mary Goodhouse, one of those he had seen through the window the day he had journeyed to London.

Had something really happened to the girl? Or had she simply slipped away with the lad who had got her with child?

Caleb thought of the secrets his superiors believed were being collected at Parklands and passed to the French. The girl had worked here as a chambermaid. Could there be some connection to her sudden disappearance? Tonight, he would send word of the missing girl to Colonel Cox through the contact that had been set up for him in the village. A silversmith named Cyrus Swift would see it done.

Caleb tightened the cinch of Lee's sidesaddle and checked the stirrup. In the meantime, Vermillion had invited him to accompany her. He went hard again and shifted to relieve the pressure against the front of his breeches.

His arousal remained as he finished saddling Grand Coeur and set to work on the bay, brushing the animal's coat, then setting the flat-seated saddle in place. Coeur nickered softly as he led both animals out into the courtyard.

The sun shone brightly overhead and thick white clouds floated in an azure sky. With the fields turned a brilliant emerald green and the trees leafed out along the hedgerows, it was the perfect day for riding.

The perfect afternoon for seduction.

Caleb lifted Vermillion into the sidesaddle, letting his hands linger at her waist, letting her see the desire in his eyes, making her wonder at his intentions. His heart was beating faster but so was hers-he could see the rapid flutter in the hollow at the base of her throat.

Since the morning in the stable when he had kissed her, every time he watched her ride out across the fields, it was all he could do not to follow. He knew she wanted him. Whenever they were together, the air around them seemed hotter, the distance between them smoldered with heat.

He couldn't help wondering, once they had reached the shelter of the trees, how she would respond if he dragged her down from her horse and into his arms, if he kissed her with the same unleashed passion he had shown her before.

Caleb cast her a glance that took in the heightened color of her cheeks. He meant to find out exactly what the lady would do and now seemed exactly the time. In the morning he would be off to Newmarket, there for the racing meet. Tonight he would send word of Mary's disappearance to Colonel Cox. In the meantime, seducing Vermillion into an afternoon's pleasure occupied the majority of his thoughts.

She looked over at him and smiled, and he thought that she looked almost shy. "I'm ready if you are."

It was a ruse, he knew, and yet he found her feigned innocence appealing. He nodded, thinking how pretty she looked in her cinnamon-colored riding skirt.

Wanting her.

Thinking that today he meant to have her.

She hadn't bothered putting her hair up today, just left it loose down her back and swept it up on the sides with small, tortoiseshell combs. Ruby strands teased his cheek as he lifted her into the sidesaddle and the pressure in his groin grew more painful. Wondering if she had noticed his obvious arousal, he walked over to the bay, shoved his boot into the metal stirrup, and swung up on the horse's back.

"Let's ride toward the north end of the field," he said. Toward the old shepherd's cabin. The building was a ruin, he had recently discovered, too far gone to serve his purpose, but there was a tiny secluded meadow just beyond the cabin that perfectly fit his plans.

"All right." Vermillion rode out first and Caleb followed, enjoying the sight of her mounted on the gray, admiring her control of the horse. She was a splendid rider. He smiled to think he intended to put the talent to a far more intimate use.

Ahead of him, Vermillion set a leisurely pace, taking a hedgerow here and there, guiding Grand Coeur over a stream with ease. When she started to turn in the wrong direction, he moved a little in front of her, blocking the way, turning them casually toward the place he had in mind.

"Let's go this way," he said and she smiled and followed.

It didn't take long to reach the shepherd's cabin. Vermillion rode on past and so did he. As soon as they reached the meadow, he drew rein on the bay and whirled the horse to face her.

"Why don't we give them a rest? It looks as if there's a spring just over there." He pointed in that direction. "And there's grass enough to keep them content."

"I could use a stretch myself."

He swung down from his mount, then swung her down off the sidesaddle, holding her a little closer than needed, letting her absorb the heat of him, letting her know what she did to his body. When a faint tremor ran through her, he let her go and walked away. Making his way back to his horse, he untied the blanket behind his saddle and drew two sets of hobbles out of the saddlebags. Placing a pair on each horse, he removed their headstalls, and sent them off to graze.

She watched him start walking toward her. He heard a little gasp of surprise as he tossed the blanket aside, reached out and hauled her into his arms. He didn't give her time to protest, just bent his head and took her lips. They were soft as silk, smooth and sweet as honey, and beneath his determined assault, he thought that they trembled.

It was a clever act, one he was beginning to enjoy. He teased the corners of her mouth, coaxing her to open for him, then took her deeply with his tongue. He'd been hard off and on all day, his groin heavy with need and pulsing with heat, his blood running thick and hot.

His hands slid down, over the soft sun-warmed velvet of her riding skirt. He cupped the globes of her bottom, tested the firmness, and lifted her against him, letting her feel how hard he was, letting her know what he meant to do.

For an instant her body stiffened and she drew a little away. Caleb claimed her lips again and very softly kissed her. He nibbled the corners of her mouth, enjoying the game, sliding his tongue into the sweet, moist cavern. He deepened the kiss and felt her tremble, coaxed her with each caress to give him what he wanted, and Vermillion responded, melting against him, sliding her arms up around his neck.

He wanted to drag her down in the grass and lift her skirts, wanted to cover her small, lush body and drive himself inside her. Instead he forced himself to go slow. He wanted this to be good for her, good for both of them. He didn't know how many men she'd had but he wanted to be among those she remembered. He didn't know why it was important, only that it was.

Caleb felt her fingers digging into his shoulders and deepened the kiss, claiming her lips first one way and then another, his hands working the black satin loops on the front of her jacket. He eased the fabric off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground at her feet. Vermillion seemed not to notice. The bodice of the gown was cut indecently low and it was easy to slide his fingers inside, to cup one of her pale, full breasts.

They were round and firmer than he had imagined, heavy and warm in his hand. His pulse took a leap and fire sank into his loins. The blood pounding in his ears made his pulse feel thick and sluggish. Vermillion made a soft little mewling sound as he began to knead the fullness, to pebble the peak, then gently pinch the ends. He felt her go lax, as if her knees refused to support her. His fingers cupped the sweet curve of her bottom to lift and hold her against him and her hold tightened on his neck.

"Caleb," she whispered, the words faint and breathy, edged with her growing desire.

"Easy," he whispered, trying to control his raging lust, determined to make the experience last. He began to work the tiny jet buttons at the back of her gown, felt them part one by one, skimmed his fingers over the smooth skin beneath. He slid the bodice of the dress off her shoulders, leaving her naked to the waist, and eased back a little to enjoy the view.

Her breasts were high and full and tipped with big pink nipples, and as he gazed down at them, they quivered. Desire expanded inside him. His loins tightened painfully and he wondered how much longer he could resist the incredible temptation she made.

Reaching down, he cupped the heavy fullness, lowered his head and took the diamond-hard tip into his mouth. Vermillion whimpered and arched her back, giving him better access, and her fingers slid into his hair. She tasted like rose petals or silk or perhaps a little of both. She was trembling, clinging to him, making soft little sounds in her throat, and his arousal throbbed, grew even harder, pressed painfully against the front of his breeches.

He had to have her-and soon.

He took a breath and tried to slow things down, broke away for a moment, leaned over and picked up the blanket, spread it out on the grass at her feet. But when he turned to reach for her, Vermillion was backing away.