With the speed that always caught others off guard, he reached out to grasp her arm and firmly pulled her toward the open carriage door.

  “A word, Lady Bianca, if you do not mind.”

  “What . . .”

  Edward had the contrary minx plucked from the street and into the carriage before she could flay him with the sharp edge of her tongue. He even managed to slam shut the door before the outraged groom could lift a hand to help his mistress.

  He was not quite swift enough, however, to avoid her unexpected kick to his knee as he settled in the seat opposite her.

  “Ow.” He glared at her as he tossed aside his dripping hat and pulled off his gloves. “If you must kick at me, you could choose a less painful location.”

  The dark eyes snapped with irritation. “I possess three brothers, Lord Harrington. You are fortunate I chose your knee at all.”

  Against his will he felt his lips twitch. “Vixen.”

  She gave a sniff as she settled back in the leather. “Do you mind telling me why you have thought fit to accost me on the street?”

  “Because it was preferable to storming your father’s fortress and no doubt ending up in some ducal dungeon,” he retorted dryly.

  A revealing heat touched her cheeks. “That is absurd.”

  “Is it?”

  She shifted uneasily. “What are you doing here?”

  It did not take a genius to realize she desired to avoid a confession of her reasons for treating him as if he carried the plague. Dammit all. He wanted to shake the truth out of her.

  Of course, he would never do such a thing.

  Gritting his teeth, Edward grudgingly accepted that for now patience was the better part of virtue.

  Or some such nonsense.

  “Searching for Joseph’s young sweetheart.”

  “Did you find her?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. She was mopping the floor of a tailor’s shop when I happened to stumble across her.”

  “Good heavens.” She blinked in surprise. “Where is she now?”

  He gave a lift of his shoulder. “Hopefully in the hands of my housekeeper, who will fuss over her until she can be returned to her home.”

  A portion of her wariness faded as a smile curved her lips. “But that is wonderful.”

  His breath caught in his throat at her smile. God, she was so beautiful.

  “Yes, it is. Sally is young and inclined to be impulsive, but she will make Joseph a good wife.” He folded his arms over his chest, regarding her with a brooding expression. “Now tell me what brings you to such a neighborhood.”

  She smoothed the pale green skirts, unaware of how the damp muslin was clinging to her body. Edward, on the other hand, was achingly conscious of every delectable curve.

  “I did say that I would attempt to discover a means of helping these people,” she muttered.

  Edward gave a startled lift of his brows. “So you did. And what means have you decided upon?”

  Her chin tilted, almost as if she expected him to deride her efforts.

  “My father has been grousing that his land is lying fallow after so many tenants left to fight in the war. At the same moment there are endless soldiers filling the almshouses without employment. It occurred to me that two problems were actually one solution, so I requested my father’s secretary to come here and begin interviewing those who might be suitable.”

  Barely aware he was moving, Edward had shifted to sit next to the astonishing woman, his hands cupping her face.

  “I did say you could alter the world if you desired,” he said softly.

  Her eyes darkened with pleasure at his obvious admiration. “I am hardly altering the world.”

  “Every revolution has a beginning.”

  Just for a moment, their gazes locked and held. Then, as if realizing the sheer intimacy of the shadowed carriage, she was abruptly pulling away from his touch.

  “I should be returning home. My father will be expecting me for tea.”

  His early irritation returned. Once again she was anxious to flee his company.

  And without one damnable explanation.

  “’Tis early yet.”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  He reached out to grasp her hands before she could elude him.

  “Bianca, why have you been avoiding me?”

  “Avoiding you?” She gave a futile tug of her fingers. “Why would you think such a thing?”

  “Please do not play at being stupid, muirnin, it does not suit you,” he growled.

  Her eyes flashed with silent warning. “If you intend on being insulting, my lord, you can blasted well return to the rain.”

  He ignored her bristling. His patience was at an end. He wanted an answer. And he wanted it now.

  “Tell me. Have I offended you? Frightened you? Disgusted you?”

  She gave a small gasp at his blunt questions. “No, of course not.”

  “There is no ‘of course’ about it. Something has driven you away. Am I not at least deserving of an explanation?”

  “Edward, please.”

  “Please what?” he demanded. “Pretend I am a proper gentleman and allow you to ignore and elude me without complaint? I am sorry, muirnin, but I cannot. I am not skilled to pretend an indifference I don’t feel. Not with you.”

  Bending downward, he captured her lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Blast it all, he had to know. He had to know that the memory of her eager response was not just a dream. That she truly had desired his touch.

  There was a horrid moment when she remained motionless beneath his demanding kiss and his heart nearly failed. Then, with a choked sound deep in her throat, Bianca was arching forward and clutching at the lapels of his coat.

  Sharp relief raced through him as he parted her lips with his tongue and delved into the welcome heat of her mouth. Oh . . . yes. She could deny anything but this. This was too powerful. Too potent.

  This could not be denied.

  Gathering her in his arms, he savored her warmth that surrounded him. He did not realize how cold he had been until her softness fit against him with sweet perfection. Now he felt as if he were drowning in her heat.

  All sorts of things began to stir as he swept kisses over her upturned face. He forgot the fact that they were seated in a carriage. And that her small army of servants stood just beyond the closed curtains. He even forgot the reason he had hauled Bianca into the carriage in the first place.

  Nothing mattered but the intoxicating feel of this woman in his arms.

  “Bianca . . .”

  Allowing his hands to trail down the curve of her back, he gently nuzzled the satin skin of her throat. Beneath his lips he could feel the thunder of her pulse, taste her honeysuckle. A shudder shook his body.

  The rasp of her breath echoed through the carriage, but just as Edward was considering the best means of maneuvering her onto his lap, she suddenly stiffened and pressed her hands against his chest.

  “No . . . we should not be doing this,” she rasped.

  “Why?” His brows snapped together. “Because I’m the Peasant Earl? Are you embarrassed to have others speak our names in the same breath?”

  Her eyes widened as if in shock. “That is not it at all.”

  “Then what?”

  She bit her lip as her lashes swept downward. At her side, Edward felt his muscles clench as if expecting a blow.

  “It is not without reason that I have been called the Ice Princess,” she at last confessed. “Although I have never intentionally intended to wound another, I have been accused of toying with the affection of my suitors. Some even claimed that I had led them to believe I would return their affection only to break their heart. I would not . . . I would not desire to hurt you.”

  It was not at all what Edward had been expecting, and he discovered himself battling a tangle of reactions.

  On one hand, he couldn’t deny a sense of relief that she was not so shallow as to fear being seen in his company. On the other hand, he could not ignore the less-than-subtle dismissal.

  “Are you warning me that you could never learn to care for me?” he husked.

  She caught her breath at his direct demand. “I do not yet know.”

  “Are you in love with another?”

  His heart turned to ice as her gaze fell and she plucked at the silver locket hung about her neck. Oh no. Not that. He could bear anything but the thought that her affection already belonged to another.

  That was something no man could battle.

  “I . . . am pledged to no man,” she at last conceded. “But that does not mean . . .”

  The ice melted beneath a surge of relief. Thank God. Reaching out, he covered her chilled hands with his own.

  “Bianca, do you recall telling me that your opinions and decisions are your own, and that I was not to take that away from you?”

  Her gaze abruptly lifted. “Of course.”

  “Then surely I should be allowed to claim the same privilege,” he demanded. “Unless you intend to shun me, why should I not choose to court you?”

  She studied him for a long moment. “Is that what you are doing? Courting me?”

  He arched a brow at her ridiculous question. “Well, you did claim we were to be wed. I think it best we spend at least some time in a traditional courtship before traveling down the aisle.” His gaze briefly dipped to her lips, still reddened from his kisses. “Besides, you will have to make an honest man of me someday.”

  Her wariness did not ease. “Edward?”

  With a rueful chuckle he leaned downward, resting his forehead against her own.

  “How do I make it more obvious, muirnin? I will admit my courtship skills are sadly lacking, but I have chased you from one end of London to another. Not to mention done everything short of stealing your maidenhead. The only thing left is to kidnap you and hold you hostage.”

  “You wish to wed me?”

  He swept his lips over her temple before pulling back to regard her with a somber expression.

  “For the moment I only wish to know you better,” he murmured. “I already know that I desire you and that I enjoy your company. I would like very much to know if it could become something more. Surely that is not so terribly nefarious?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No.”

  “So you will no longer spend your days attempting to avoid me?”

  An indefinable emotion flickered through the dark eyes. “Would it make any difference if I did attempt to avoid you? You seem to possess a rare talent for appearing wherever I might be.”

  Edward stiffened. Granted he had ridden through the park and attended a handful of parties in the hope of catching a glimpse of her. But dammit all, she made him sound like he stalked her through the streets like a damnable looby.

  “If you wish to rid yourself of my presence, Lady Bianca, you need only say the word. I can assure you that I would never inflict myself upon a lady who has no desire for my company.”

  Annoyingly, a hint of humor touched her beautiful features at his stiff words.

  Much less annoyingly, her hand lifted to gently stroke his cheek.

  “I have no wish to rid myself of your presence, Edward,” she said softly. “I find that I have missed your companionship.”

  She had missed him?

  Edward’s breath was snatched from his lungs as he helplessly gazed into the flashing black eyes.

  Oh God. He was in bad shape.

  Very, very bad shape.

  But for the moment, he didn’t give a damn.

  Not so long as she was smiling at him as if there were no other gentleman in the world for her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  There was nothing particularly notable about Lady Simmon’s ball. Oh, perhaps the lobster in cream was better than usual and the illusion of a Grecian villa a nice change from the usual Roman ruins. But all in all it was just another ball amidst an entire season of balls.

  Still, Bianca could not deny a tingle of excitement that inched down her spine and lodged in the pit of her stomach.

  It was a growingly familiar sensation, and one that she was beginning to suspect was directly attributable to the large, handsome gentleman that was currently standing across the room regarding her with a brooding smile.

  It made no sense.

  He was no dashing rake to sweep a woman off her feet. Or even a practiced seducer who could flatter and woo a lady until her head was spinning.

  So why did his mere glance manage to send her heart into a flutter?

  It was all very strange.

  “Ah, Bianca, here you are.” As he stepped before her, Alexander’s eyes abruptly widened in shock. “God almighty.”

  Bianca resisted the urge to lift her hands and cover the large amount of flesh her gown exposed. Had she not specifically requested her modiste to make the neckline a tad more . . . revealing?

  Why she had made the request was not a question she had allowed herself to ponder.

  “Good evening, Alexander.”

  The handsome features hardened with disapproval. “What the devil are you wearing?”

  “It is commonly known as a ball gown.” She smoothed the silver gauze skirt. “Perhaps if you have been residing in a cave you might consider them an astonishing creation.”

  “There are ball gowns and then there are ball gowns. Has your father happened to see you in this bare excuse for clothing?”

  “He was the one who demanded that I shackle myself to a husband. A woman must bait the trap if she is to capture her prey.”

  Alexander gave a choked cough. “There is a difference between baiting a trap and creating a riot.”

  Bianca rolled her eyes heavenward. Anyone would think she was following the tradition of Lady Godiva and prancing about stark naked.

  “My gown is no more shocking than any other.”

  “It is hardly your usual . . .” Alexander halted, his brows lifting as he turned to glance across the crowded room. “Ah.”

  “What?”

  “I had forgotten you were hunting the rare country ox.” He turned back to regard her with mocking amusement. “No doubt you need a bit stouter ammunition.”

  “Very clever,” she drawled.

  Leaning against the paneled wall, Alexander crossed his arms over his chest. For once he did not seem to note the languishing female glances being hurled in his direction.

  “I must say that Harrington has managed to create quite a stir about town.”

  Bianca instinctively bristled. By God, she would not hear one more word on Edward’s lack of blue blood.

  Not when she of all people knew his worth.

  “Not you too, Alexander,” she snapped. “Lord Harrington happens to be a perfectly gracious gentleman who is far more deserving of respect than most of these supposed pinks of the ton fluttering about.”

  A knowing gleam entered her cousin’s gaze. “Draw in your claws, kitten. I meant that your farmer has managed to rattle even the most indolent members of the House of Lords. There are those who are convinced he is determined to create another Reign of Terror right here in England.”

  Oh.

  Well, that was an entirely different matter.

  Bianca took great pride in Edward’s fierce determination to battle for reform.

  “He is rather passionate in his desire for change,” she murmured, her attention shifting toward the gentleman currently being discussed.

  Her gaze locked with the hazel eyes and a sharp flare of heat clutched at her as a hungry, almost predatory expression hardened his features. It had been near a week since they had been together in her carriage. Since then they had encountered one another at a variety of events and once in Hyde Park. But constantly surrounded by crowds, they had barely been allowed to do more than murmur pleasantries before social dictates had demanded they part.

  She discovered herself increasingly frustrated.

  She desired to have him to herself for a few moments. So they could speak. And perhaps kiss. And . . . well, there were all sorts of things possible.

  If only they could be alone.

  “A passion he seems to have inspired within you, my dear.” Alexander broke into her brazen thoughts.

  A sudden heat rushed to her cheeks. Good lord, could her cousin read her mind?

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “His passion for change. I hear you have taken on your own causes.” He arched a deliberate brow, his lips twitching. “Whatever did you think I meant?”

  All too familiar with Alexander’s rotten sense of humor, Bianca offered him a pointed glare. Wretch.

  “Is there not some poor, neglected wife anxious for your attentions?”

  “Always, my dearest, always.”

  “Then do not let me keep you.”

  Readily straightening from the wall, Alexander reached out to lightly touch her shoulder.

  “Bianca.”

  “Yes?”

  His gaze swept her countenance in a searching manner. “Are you serious about this farmer?”

  Bianca paused. Was she serious?

  It was so difficult to know. She liked Edward. She cared for him. And she certainly craved his touch.

  Perhaps more importantly, she had to admit that when he was not near she felt as if something vital was missing.

  Still, she had always dreamed her future would be filled with . . . what? Daring adventures? Endless excitement?

  At least something more than becoming a dutiful wife and retiring to a small country estate.

  “I do not yet know. I like him very much. And . . .” Her voice trailed away as she realized what she had been about to admit.

  Alexander chuckled. “You lust for him?”

  “If you must be so crude, yes.”

  His hand shifted to tug on a raven curl that brushed her cheek. “You could do worse, you know. He seems like a good chap. Dependable. Loyal. Perhaps not quite so dashing as your beloved Stephen, but believe me when I tell you that rakes do not often make the best sort of husbands.”

  Absently, Bianca touched the silver locket about her neck.

  Alexander was no doubt correct. He was, after all, a consummate rake who had devoted his life to breaking the hearts of women. Who better to warn her of the dangers of such treacherous animals?