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“There is not much to tell,” she retorted. “That is the point—a point that is often missed in moments of desperation.”

He tilted his head to one side, highlighting the cords of his neck. “You believe women have such insignificant influence?”

“Oh no, I do believe that women have influence and that they have a power that frightens society, which is why it is immediately smothered when a lady sets a toe out of line. They are allowed power in the form of youth and beauty and innocence, until the second they break expectation, and once lost, it cannot be retrieved,” Valeria replied, astounded that this was the first time in seven years that she had had a moment of interesting discourse with a gentleman. And appalled that it was with this man.

“You think women are unjustly and discriminately punished?”

Valeria snorted. “I think a woman can be seen talking for a moment with a man alone and be dragged through a mire of scandal she will never emerge from unscathed, while the man gets to continue on as he pleases.” She held his intense gaze.

“There is a reason only married women are permitted liberty—because they are already shackled.”

“Goodness, I do hope no one ever asks you to speak at a debut ball,” Lockie said, eyes shining with mischief. “You would have the ladies of society grabbing swords and torches, rising into rebellion before they could even sip a cup of punch.”

“You mock me, but you will not antagonize me. I have had many years to thicken my skin,” she told him sternly. “Consider it this way, if you wish to be ignorant to the disparity—would you ever seek to amend a scandal you had caused with a wedding you did not want?”

He smiled. “Certainly not. Particularly if it was part of someone else’s plan, and I was not privy to it.

” He sighed as if she had disappointed him.

“You think me the fox in this scenario, but it was the vixen’s cunning.

Why, that is the reason for my gratitude—you thought you were rescuing that girl, but you ended up sparing me instead. ”

“I have heard of you,” she said coolly. “I do not believe you were innocent.”

“No, it seems not.” He searched her face.

“You think me dishonorable: a rogue, a rake, a cautionary tale, the dangerous creature that your mother warned you about when you were a girl. But I do have my honor, and it commands me to repay you for the generous act you performed for me tonight. The feather is a mere token, until you can decide what reward you would desire from me.”

He spoke in a voice as smooth and sweet as honey, that coated her chest and made it temporarily difficult to breathe.

In that instant, she knew just how dangerous this man was, understanding full-well how so many other ladies had fallen foul of his charms. He was talented; she had to grant him that, but she would not fall for it.

“It is not necessary,” she said curtly. “You are in no debt to me for, as I told you already, the favor was not for you.”

“Nevertheless, I will not be denied my code of honor,” he replied with a disarming smile. “I am indebted, whether you like it or not. So, tell me, my dark angel, what is it you desire? What can I do to satisfy you—this debt, I mean?”

Heat warmed Valeria’s cheeks, and as she looked away from him, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze a moment longer, she realized with some alarm that they had not gone unnoticed.

She had been so drawn into his conversation, his easy charm, and the rumble of his voice that she had forgotten the dangers of herself being seen alone with a man.

This man… It was akin to putting her own name in the scandal sheets, joining the legion of ladies who had been scandalously associated, and duly spurned, as a result.

Why, there were rumors that half of society’s children were actually his.

An exaggeration, undoubtedly, but there was no smoke without some fire.

And her reputation could not bear any sort of dent or bad association, not now. Just talking to him could decimate her hopes of marrying before the Season concluded.

“You can leave me be,” she hurried to say. “I must go. I hope that I never see you again— that is my desire.”

She turned to depart, but Lockie suddenly rose further up, his hand shooting out to grab Valeria by the wrist. He pulled her toward him, bent half over the balustrade, and as his warm breath tickled her neck, he whispered, “I do not accept. This is not over yet.”

Panicked by the abrupt murmur of gossiping voices, and the startling sensation of his rough, warm palm against the bare skin of her wrist, above the safe edge of her kid gloves, she snatched her hand back.

Shooting him one of her most searing gazes, breathing hard at the audacity of him, she stalked off before he could even think of grabbing her a second time.

He did not attempt to follow. He did not need to, as Valeria soon realized, for his parting words pursued her back into the ball… and would undoubtedly haunt her all night, if not for days to come.