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He studied her, an unreadable expression on his face. “Yes?”

“The water is quite chilly.”

Several seconds passed. “Shall I hold the towel for you?”

She blinked, unable to tell if he teased her. “No, of course not. Just…er…close your eyes?”

“Of course,” he agreed easily. He leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out before him, arms folded over his chest.

She peered at him. He sat very still, eyelids closed, silent as a church mouse. The bland expression on his face proclaimed him bored beyond measure .

Feeling unaccountably deflated by the notion, she rose, water sluicing down her body. Goosebumps fanned over her skin as the chill night air enveloped her. She climbed over the edge of the tub, grabbed the towel the maid had provided, and scrubbed the rough white cotton over her skin.

Something made her pause. She squinted over her shoulder at Caden.

He had not moved one iota as far as she could tell. She sniffed and resumed drying herself with the small linen.

Apparently he could care less she stood naked not ten feet away from him.

He clearly no longer desired her. She could blame that entirely on his learning she’d married Baron Bolton.

Only, hadn’t he pushed her away mid-kiss not once but twice, prior to learning about Bolton?

Maybe he hadn’t liked how she kissed. Maybe her inexperience repelled him.

She wound the towel around the length of her hair, squeezing out the moisture.

Whatever the reason, it was clear his attraction for her had waned. Even so he remained chivalrous to a fault. Rather than toss her out on her ear when he found her crawling out of the luggage hold, he secured her a chamber, a hot meal, and a steaming bath.

“Finished?” He sounded irritated. Probably he was anxious to get to the end of her tale.

“Nearly.” She abandoned her efforts to dry her hair and ran on tiptoes toward the armoire where she’d hung a morning dress meant for tomorrow.

Eschewing a chemise in the interest of time, she yanked the gown off its hanger and tugged it over her head, wrestling it over still-clammy skin. She tightened the ribbon at her bodice with clumsy, half-frozen fingers .

She faced him. “You can open your eyes now.”

He stirred, eyelids slowly lifting. He uncrossed, then recrossed his ankles, cocking his head to study her.

“Go sit near the hearth where it’s warm, Gloriana.” With that, he unfolded himself from the chair.

She padded to the wingback armchair, the wooden planks warming under her bare feet as she neared the grate. She sank into the chair. The cushions were deliciously toasty and their heat flowed through the folds of her gown, cocooning her with warmth. She groaned.

In the act of dragging the cart, Caden stumbled, cursing under his breath.

“Everything all right?” she asked.

“Fine,” he muttered, situating the table in front of her.

He removed the cover from her dish, filled a goblet of wine and handed it to her, then strode back to the window. He grasped the wooden chair he’d vacated with one hand, returned to place it opposite hers with the table between them, and resumed his seat.

He picked up his fork, pausing before continuing his meal. He frowned at her untouched dish. “You need to eat something, Anna.”

Her heartbeat thumped painfully in her chest as hope blossomed inside her. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He scooped up a bite, lips twitching as he chewed. He dabbed his napkin at his lips. “When it’s so obviously not in my nature, you mean? You were expecting me to look after my own needs and to hell with yours? Not to worry. You’re in fine company with that opinion.”

“ Don’t .”

He smiled in sardonic amusement, his eyes glinting glacial blue. “Beg pardon?”

“Please don’t turn my words into something ugly. I meant why are you being so nice to me when I don’t deserve it?”

He gazed at her for an interminable minute, an unreadable expression on his beautiful face. “I’m not being overly-kind. I’m doing what any man in my position would do.”

She disagreed, but before she could argue the point, he went on.

“You stopped your tale with finding yourself penniless. What happened next?”

She had her answer. The bath, the food, all his small niceties, owed to nothing more than his inherent chivalry. He no longer had any special feeling for her, if he ever had.

Little fool. As her father often said, “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

He cocked his head. “I don’t follow.”

She’d spoken her thoughts aloud again. She must be more exhausted than she realized. “It’s just an expression.”

Her answer seemed to baffle him.

She went on before he could ask again. “Things went from bad to worse. Not only were we penniless, we were drowning in debt, in imminent jeopardy of losing the house, all our belongings, and likely bound for the workhouse to pay off father’s debts—or worse.”

Their eyes met. For a split second, she thought she saw a flicker of compassion in his eyes, rather than the infernal detached curiosity.

“Angelique came up with a plan—to save us, she said. She said the simplest solution was for me to marry. When I pointed out I hadn’t any suitors, she brought the Baron to meet me.

Before I knew it, a contract was drawn-up and signed, and we both moved into his” Her face crumpled in distaste—“home in London. She insisted the living situation would enable he and I to become better acquainted.”

His jaw tightened in evident disapproval. “I see. And did it?”

Anna stirred her stew, recalling the dark, and dingy ramshackle of a mansion that she soon realized was more of a prison than an abode .

She shook her head. “Oddly, the man was not in residence—at first.”

“That is odd.”

She gazed at him, considering. “Caden, earlier tonight, you indicated you knew Lord Bolton. ”

His expression turned grim. “I wouldn’t say I know him. I know of him. I did have occasion to meet him as a boy, with my father. The two were friends. I did not care for him in the slightest.”

He broke off a chunk of bread and handed it to her.

She accepted his offering, nibbled, waited for him to elaborate.

“My personal opinion aside, it’s common knowledge the Baron cares nothing for his title, nor the responsibilities that go with it.

He’s long since lost any non-entailed lands.

He’s all about the drink, horse racing, and the hells—which is precisely why I can not fathom…

” He broke off abruptly, picked up his wine, and took a healthy swallow.

“How did this Angelique expect your courtship”— He stressed the word in such a way as to indicate he saw it as nothing of the sort—“to advance in his absence? For that matter, how did this Angelique come to know Baron Bolton?”

She swallowed a morsel of cheese and laughed, self-conscious. “I’m embarrassed to admit, I haven’t a clue how she knew him. As for the two of us getting acquainted, I’m convinced she wanted nothing of the sort.”

Caden leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why-ever not?”

“I believe the man to whom I was introduced, the man with whom I believed myself engaged, was not Lord Bolton.”

“What are you saying? That your step-mother introduced you to a decoy? You’re certain?”

“Certain? No. Angelique denied it when I asked her about it.”

She ate more cheese, questioning her own memory for the thousandth time. “Maybe I had it wrong. Maybe I saw what I wanted to see at first. So much is a blur about those early days after my father’s death.”

“I see.” His tone said he didn’t see at all.

She lifted her chin. “I’d like to make one thing clear.

Even before I met the true Lord Bolton, I decided I could not possibly go through with the marriage.

I planned to find employment—as a tutor, a companion, a nanny.

Angelique could go back to working in the apothecary.

As for father’s debts, I wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

I assumed Angelique and I would work it out together. ”

He set his fork down with exquisite care. “You changed your mind about the marriage?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t see the point. Perhaps for some marriage is a business arrangement. That’s not a good enough reason for me to wed.”

He searched her face. “What would be?”

For some reason, she found it hard to draw a steady breath. “We’re straying from the subject.”

He inclined his head.

She sipped some wine, then started on the stew. The beef all but melted in her mouth.

She scooped up another bite before continuing.

“When I shared my decision with Angelique, I expected some resistance. I never anticipated the rage she flew into. She shook me ’til I thought my teeth would fall out, then ordered her pet footman to lock me in my chamber.

Brutus, she called him. He was a beast of a man, more paid muscle than house servant. ”

“Good Lord, Anna. ”

She smiled a humorless smile. “My goals changed in a blink. First and foremost, I needed to escape, which meant first pretending to come to my senses. Angelique was no fool, however; She kept me under guard. I never said a word in protest. Rather, I became a dutiful daughter, acquiescent and aiming to please.”

Caden snorted.

She slid him a quelling look and he sobered, though his eyes twinkled with a mischievous light that eased some of the growing tension inside her and tempted her to smile at the rogue. She bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge.

“When she went out for the day, as she often did, I combed the house, searching for anything I could use for my eventual escape. I knew I would need to find work, so I sequestered myself in the reading room and wrote out several fine letters of recommendation for myself.”

“Ah. The infamous forged letters.” He lounged back in his chair, wine glass in hand. “And what of Bolton? He didn’t…er…trouble you?”

She shrugged and toyed with a damp lock of her hair. “I won’t say he didn’t occasionally leer at me. But more often than not, he was simply too far into his cups to present much of a threat.”

Caden gave an indeterminate grunt.

“One afternoon, after Angelique went out, I waited near her bedchamber for the lone, harried chambermaid to carry out the used bedding. As I hoped, she didn’t bother with locking the door behind her when she left.

I stole inside.” She clenched her jaw. “That’s when I discovered my mother’s jewelry had not been sold.

It sat in a drawer in Angelique’s vanity.

Angelique had all of it. My mother’s pearls, the wedding ring my father had given her, her ruby pendant. ”

Should she tell him about pawning the ruby, and finding it in her trunk? She supposed she should explain her entanglement with Lord Bolton first.

“That raises some interesting questions.”

“Indeed. She’d lied about my mother’s jewels.

What else might she have lied about, and why?

Regardless of what her possible motives, I was furious enough to take the lot.

But…if she noticed, I had no notion how far she’d go to punish me.

So I left everything exactly as I found it—save mother’s pendant.

She’d always worn it; I could never remember seeing her without it, and I…

I couldn’t help myself. I hid it under my mattress with the letters I’d written.

I vowed to leave that night. Somehow, some way. ”

He leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees. A muscle in his jaw ticked. “They caught you, trying to escape?”

She shook her head. “They drugged me. Angelique is an accomplished apothecary, but I had never considered she might try something like that. One minute I was eating my evening meal, the next…”

She drew her fist to her mouth. “I have vague memories of being in Bolton’s moldering chapel. I recall standing before, I assume, a priest, Lord Bolton beside me, Angelique behind me, whispering if I answered wrong, she’d make me regret it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “So I thought, just keep quiet. Don’t say a word. Maybe the priest would notice something amiss and offer assistance.”

Cursing softly, Caden shoved the table from between them. He took both of her hands between his.

Funny. She hadn’t realized her fingers had grown so cold until the warmth from his palms seeped into hers.

“Angelique wouldn’t have it. She took me aside and slapped my face, hard, ’til I promised I’d answer correctly. God help me, I did .

"Afterward, they sent me to my room. I must have fallen asleep because, when I woke, it was full on night. I heard voices—probably what awakened me. Angelique screamed at Bolton. She told him she hadn’t gone through all the trouble she had for him to blunder everything in the final hour.

She said she didn’t care what he did with me afterward, but that he needed to…

” She swallowed, “…get the deed done before she returned. I gathered she meant…” Her words died in her throat.

“She meant for him to bed you,” Caden said, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Had I been thinking, I’d have barred my door. Instead I stumbled out to the landing in time to witness Angelique flying out the front door. He looked up and saw me, frozen at the top of the stairs. He said, ‘ Come on girl. Let’s get this over with.’ I ran back to the bedchamber. He pursued me.”

Caden ducked his head, tunneling his fingers through his hair. “Sweetheart.”

“I tripped. I was still groggy.”

“Sweetheart, it’s all right. You don’t have to—”

“—He grabbed my ankles and tried to pull me across the floor toward the bed. I resisted with all my might. He must’ve given up, because I heard him unfasten his trousers.

He said we could do it the hard way. When he fell atop me, his legs bracketing mine, I didn’t think.

I grabbed for whatever I could reach, then swung it ‘round with all my might.”

Admiration and a glint of moisture shone in his eyes. “Little hellion. Fire poker?”

She’d never said a word of this to anyone. For some odd reason, she felt better, lighter, with the telling .

She sent him a tremulous smile. “Chamber pot. I thought I’d killed him.”

He blinked once, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Only you. Death by chamber pot. Would’ve served the bastard right.”