Crawford lingered. “Have you a plan for tomorrow, too? What if he throws you out tonight?”

  “I should be so lucky. But he wouldn’t dare. I’ll be all right, I promise.”

  Crawford grunted.

  She eased the door open, peeking out at the brighter light of the hallway, and although he seemed reluctant to leave her, Crawford stalked away unseen by anyone as far as she could tell.

  Amity closed the door again and took a deep breath. Her next steps were crucial. She had to act as if nothing was wrong, all the while looking like she’d been ravished. She clung to the shadows of that secret room a little longer, mainly to give Roman more time to return to the ballroom by his route before she stepped out and took her chosen path. She stayed there as long as she dared, then she stepped out boldly to walk the halls, a proud and decidedly smug ruined lady.

  Amity went to the retiring room first, intending to muss her hair more if it was needed and assess the damage done to her bodice. She hoped it was torn in an obvious place for any casual observer to notice.

  As luck would have it, her sister-in-law was already there with a maid, primping before the mirror. Melody glanced up, smiling—and then her expression froze. “Sister?”

  Melody only called her that when she was at her most condescending. Amity had never warmed to Melody. She’d learned quickly that any secret she told her brother’s new wife would soon be whispered in his ear or to another member of the family out of spite. “Mrs. Sweet.”

  Amity moved toward a mirror to admire her appearance, tugging at her bodice to discover the location of the tear. Fixable, perhaps, but it would need a skilled hand, and for Amity to completely disrobe first. Her hair was falling from their pins, too, her lips pinkened and swollen from her skilled lover’s kisses. She looked ruined—and that made her so very happy.

  Melody met her gaze in the mirror, her mouth pinched with disapproval. Then she whirled about and fled the room.

  Amity hummed a happy tune as she re-pinned parts of her hair very poorly in the mirror. She made no serious attempt to hide her ravishment, though. That was the point of being ruined tonight. Any moment, another member of the family would arrive, and then perhaps George as well to call her out as scandalous.

  Amity grinned at her reflection in the mirror, enlightened, and happy as never before.

  She put her fingers to her shoulder and traced an angry red mark that suggested she’d been with a man intimately. She giggled, delighted with that, too. Roman Crawford had exceeded her expectations for their tryst. She hoped he had enjoyed having her, and that his view of her brother’s rage and embarrassment was unimpeded when the time came to see it.

  Deciding that enough time had passed for Melody to do her whispering, Amity waltzed out the door into the hall.

  George was waiting. His face was set with fury. “Who did this to you?”

  Amity smiled into her brother’s angry eyes, and then glanced past him to a small crowd that hovered close behind—including the contender for her hand, his mouth agape in shock. Judging by everyone’s stunned expressions, it was clearly obvious what had happened to her without having to say a single word.

  There would be a scandal, she was ruined, and she’d at last stood up to her family.

  Chapter 3

  “Here,” Lord Cushing whispered, pushing a piece of paper at Roman. “I believe this is what you were seeking more of.”

  Roman glanced at the details of a promissory note for fifty pounds and nodded. George Sweet seemed to owe everyone lately. Getting payment out of him appeared to be quite difficult for many of his acquaintances, though. This one was merely a small debt compared to some, but the value of those other notes Roman held in his safe was always increasing. From his pocket, he produced a wad of notes, slightly more than the value of the debt itself, and slipped it discreetly to Cushing’s waiting hand. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you,” Cushing gushed and glided away again.

  Cushing had been part of George Sweets’ inner circle until recently. The loyalty of quite a few of his friends seemed to be unravelling of late. Greed and a wish to be made whole again won out more often than not.

  Roman remained on the sidelines of the ballroom, watching the pretty young women twirl and smile coyly in an attempt to catch his eye. He shouldn’t be here still, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. He wanted to know that the damn prissy prig, Amity’s older brother George, was frothing at the mouth, brought low by a scandal brought on by none other than his own supposedly pure-of-heart sister.

  He raked his hand through his hair, trying not to laugh at the truth of the matter. Amity hadn’t been pure of thought at all, and had proven herself to be both brave and wicked at once. She didn’t even disapprove of his attempts at revenge.

  Tomorrow, Roman had planned to present himself at George’s door, demanding the debts he held be settled immediately. That should have put Amity’s brother in a bad mood, but on top of all this it might kill him. No one could get money from a dead man though.

  When it became clear that George couldn’t pay Roman off, a pair of Roman’s friends were primed to place a wager in the White’s club betting book on the likelihood of George Sweet ever having the funds.

  Reputations were a gentleman’s currency in certain parts of society. Once lost, they forever cast shade on a man’s character, and a woman’s particularly.

  He winced. Amity’s would be damaged forever after tonight.

  He should feel guilty but could not find it in his heart. First, it had been by her invitation that he’d ruined her, and by her insistence that he absolutely, under no circumstances, claim to have done the deed. If he were a heartless bastard, he might do the right thing of course and claim her and her hefty dowry. But Amity wanted none of him. He respected that. It was a relief, too. She only wanted out from under her brother’s thumb anyway she could think of.

  Amity had promised she’d free herself without his blood being shed in a morning duel or having him dragged to the altar and forced to marry.

  He admired the hell out of her for making that promise. There were few women who would have in her situation. He was rich enough to be welcomed into many families, should his ambition ever run to matrimony again. Probably not by the Sweets, with their noses in the air at his commoner origins…and George reputedly reading his old love notes to Melody for all to hear.

  He ground his teeth and looked around, noticing some women whispering behind fans, swarming together like bees around the sweetest flower, only to then scurry to another group of buzzing women.

  Had it started?

  It went on like that for a while. The sound slowly rose to a crescendo before some grabbed him by the shoulders to whisper. “Did you hear? Sweet Paragon has been ruined!”

  It had begun. Roman glanced back at the speaker, feigning utter surprise at hearing such shocking news. Lord Stratford Sweet, one of Amity’s male cousins, was grinning from ear to ear though.

  Roman narrowed his eyes. “Should you be spreading gossip about your own cousin like that?”

  “I didn’t do it,” Stratford exclaimed hastily. “George is livid. You should see the scene he’s making over in the library.”

  “Also your cousin,” Roman drawled slowly, hiding how he really felt behind an expression of concern. But he turned his eyes toward the far door, hoping to catch a glimpse of his enemy brought low, and of Amity, too. “Why are you not there now?”

  “Ravenswood sent me away. One of my aunts has fainted and I failed to catch her. Algernon is trying to take charge.”

  Roman had not realized the Duke of Ravenswood and his oldest son and heir, Algernon Sweet, Earl of Fairbridge, was in attendance tonight. Roman may not have agreed to meet with Amity if he’d know of their presence. Ravenswood was a cold bastard, but Fairbridge, although quieter than Stratford, was someone a fellow should never think to cross either. He hoped Amity could hold her tongue in the face of that cousin’s likely displeasure. “What will be done about finding the fiend?”

  Stratford shrugged. “No doubt Ravenswood will do his best to flush him out tonight so George can have the pleasure of shooting him at dawn tomorrow.”

  Amity had predicted that possibility, too, and still Roman had gone to her. Helped her ruin herself and enjoyed every moment. He scanned the room discreetly, reminding himself where the closest exit was if a speedy departure became necessary. “Do they have any idea who it might have been?”

  “No. Amity’s lips are sealed tighter than her legs once were,” Stratford muttered coarsely, then chuckled. “I always knew my cousin had a wild heart hidden under all of that prim muslin and lace she wears.”

  Wild heart, indeed. Roman had never had to work harder to make a lady climax than with Amity in that cramped space. And it had been so worth the effort in the end. She’d come in never-ending waves, rendering him speechless with shock afterward. Hearing her gasp his name and cling to him had made his heart race fiercely.

  Too many men rushed to achieve their own satisfaction and denied a woman hers. But the thing that had finally pushed Amity over the edge had been him. His cock buried deep inside her, and all while he held her close and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. It was a tenderness he rarely showed his more experienced lovers during their first time together.

  Women normally only wanted him for a quick tumble anyway.

  Amity had wanted that, too…now to his regret. But there’d be plenty of other women gracing his cock in the future, no doubt. And tonight, he had to behave as he always did. He had to be certain he was never a suspect and end up married or shot or cut to ribbons at dawn. There was still so much more he had to do to make George Sweet pay dearly for his actions. “Surely she wants marriage.”

  “If she does, she isn’t saying so. George probably won’t trick anyone into taking her on now, anyway. She’s revealed a stubborn streak most men would find unattractive. He’s made his displeasure with her behavior well known. Issuing all sort of threats in the hope of loosening her tongue. Fairbridge had to intervene.”

  That had an ominous ring to it. He turned to Stratford immediately. “What do you mean by that?”

  Stratford scowled darkly. “Caught George’s filthy paw before he could strike Amity’s upturned face. It was almost if she was daring him to beat her. This scandal will end talks of Amity marrying, and after that violent display, my dear cousin might find himself on the outs with society ladies for a while. He’s always hidden his brutish nature well…until tonight.”

  Roman straightened, fury building inside him unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d known George Sweet was a bully for years, especially toward his fellow man, but not when it came to women. And women in his family could never escape such violence when it happened behind closed doors without help. “He tried to strike Amity?”

  “The man is beyond the pale. No wonder she’s willing to risk being cast out, or perhaps that was what she hoped for.”

  He craned his neck, hoping to catch sight of Amity. “What will be done with her?”

  Stratford merely scratched his jaw. “Don’t rightly know. Fairbridge will know what to do, like he always does.”

  “Get out! Get the hell out!” a man raged, suddenly yelling loud enough to be heard over the hubbub of gossips around Roman in the ballroom.

  Roman cocked his head, listening hard. “Was that George?”

  “Indeed. There he goes, compounding his sins with a public tantrum, too,” Stratford warned. “Why my father ever puts up with the man, I’ll never understand.”

  Indeed, the duke was known to prefer his nephew’s company to that of his four grown sons. Roman could not understand that at all. “Maybe this will end his favoritism.”

  “I doubt it. Father will approve of his rage, punish Amity, and keep us all dancing to his tune until he turns up his toes,” Stratford warned, pantomiming puppets dancing on invisible strings. “We’d better go before George really starts getting belligerent and shoots indiscriminately at the guests.”

  Roman grimaced and glanced around. “Does he not remember he doesn’t live here?”

  “That’s what makes him so pathetic. Shall we?”

  Stratford slapped his back and moved Roman along with all the other guests who seemed to have decided to leave the ball, too. Or they might be moving in for a closer look at the commotion.

  Roman didn’t resist going with the flow of the crowd, since leaving was exactly what he should be doing by now. He still looked for Amity through the open library doors, though didn’t catch sight of her there. He assumed she’d been spirited away somewhere far from prying eyes to be interrogated.

  For a time, they were stuck in the entrance hall, along with everyone else waiting upon carriages. He looked up and spotted George Sweet glowering at everyone from an upper-floor landing, encircled by elder members of the extended Sweet family. Of Amity, there was no sign.

  Finally, servants eased everyone toward the front doors with whispered apologies for the untimely end of the evening’s festivities. Roman glanced up one more time before he crossed the threshold, his eyes catching George’s briefly. His adversary looked utterly unhinged by tonight’s events, and Roman felt immense satisfaction, quickly followed by a pang of unease.

  What if Fairbridge had not intervened, separating brother and sister when he had? What if Amity was being taken home to await punishment at the hands of such a brute tonight behind closed doors? He was worried about her enough now to consider turning around and doing something rash…and potentially dangerous to his freedom.

  He considered owning up.

  But Roman was pushed outside, where confusion reigned. Servants struggled to get guests into the right carriages. Roman was pushed forward into one, but when he got inside and lifted his head, he discovered it not to be his. And the Duke of Ravenswood’s eldest son was currently in it.

  “Begging your pardon, Fairbridge,” Roman mumbled, rising to leave again to await his own. “Wrong carriage.”

  “Sit down, Crawford,” Fairbridge drawled. “I’d rather you than my brother, any day.”

  The carriage took off, leaving Stratford Sweet behind on the pavement, shaking his fist after them. Roman winced and waved and finally looked around. He almost groaned out loud.

  Amity was sitting beside him.

  He nodded to her, a woman of scandal now. His lovely secret lover. The beauty who had graced his cock so sweetly a short time ago. “Miss Sweet.”

  “Mr. Crawford,” she murmured, raising her chin high and thus revealing the love bite on her neck. The one he’d given her on purpose in the dark under those stairs.

  His lips twitched at her proud bearing, but then he quickly schooled his features, lest Fairbridge see his amusement and wondered about it. He glanced at the earl again. “Good of you to take me on. It will save me some time waiting for my own carriage to be found in that hellish crush.”

  Fairbridge’s lips were pressed tight together, and he said nothing in return.

  Roman glanced sideways at Amity again in hopes of conveying support and concern for her plight, but she was studying the view out the window as if it were the most fascinating sight in the world. He had to wonder if Amity had any regrets now.

  He hoped not, because he did not.

  When she didn’t look his way again, Roman sighed and studied his fingertips until Fairbridge tapped on the roof and gave the coachman instructions to stop. “Well, get out.”

  Roman nodded to Amity and to the earl, and then climbed out as fast as he could without another word. Worried still for what might happen to Amity later, he considered asking where she was being taken.

  But the carriage drove off before he could, turned the corner, and vanished into the dark London night. Roman cursed, and he then looked around properly, quickly discovering his mistake. Fairbridge had left him on the wrong street.

  Chapter 4

  Amity scowled as the carriage drew away from Roman. “I don’t believe Mr. Crawford lives here.”

  “Doesn’t he?” Fairbridge replied with a negligent shrug, his eyes boring into hers.

  “No, I heard he resides at the Albany Apartments at present. That is in the other direction, cousin.”

  “So it is. What a shame,” he murmured, continuing to watch her closely.

  Amity bore the inspection without fidgeting, refusing to be intimidated by a mere glare. She’d suffered worse at the hands of the tyrant, her brother. “You can leave me here, too, if you like.”

  Fairbridge growled, and if he hadn’t raised his hand, she might have not flinched and revealed her fear of angry men. His eyes narrowed at her reaction, and he lowered his hand slowly. His next words were more subdued than she expected. “What were you thinking, embarrassing yourself like that? Do you realize the cost of your actions tonight?”

  Amity took a steadying breath and met her steely-eyed cousin’s glare without feeling remorse. He was not like George. Fairbridge had never been violent with her before, or with anyone she knew of, though he must often want to strangle his own brothers frequently. Yet they survived to this day to cause trouble for everyone. But there was nothing Fairbridge, the future Duke of Ravenswood, could do to her worse than her own brother had tried behind closed doors. “Yes. I knew what I was doing.”

  Fairbridge raked a hand through his hair. Of all her cousins, he was the most similar in looks to his father, the frequently feared Duke of Ravenswood. Dark and dangerous in his own way, and not above putting his own interests first, too. She did not expect leniency or understanding from him.

  “Did you not think I could have helped you avoid marriage?”

  She blinked, utterly surprised by the question. “Why would you want to?”

  “It doesn’t matter now, but I was damn well trying,” he complained, almost shouting before he remembered himself. He heaved a frustrated sigh and raked a hand through his hair again. “A closer alliance with your brother’s cronies was entirely unwanted by many members of the family. I objected to the match, which is likely why George pursued the matter so doggedly.”