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“G et away from my daughter,” the Marquess of Rothburne ordered.

Hannah tried to rise from her seat, but the lieutenant motioned her back. With a horrifying clarity, she realized what her father must think. With a pleading look she insisted, “Papa, this isn’t what it looks like. Lieutenant Thorpe rescued me from Lord Belgrave.”

Though she tried to find the right explanation, her father looked more interested in murder than the truth.

Hannah continued talking, though she knew how unlikely it must sound. “Lieutenant Thorpe tried to bring me home, but I had one of my headaches. I didn’t have any laudanum, and the pain was unbearable. He obeyed me when I ordered him to stop the carriage.”

Her father gave no indication that he’d even heard her speaking but gave a nod to one of his footmen. The large servant reached to seize hold of the lieutenant, but Michael’s hand shot out and stopped him. With a twist to the man’s wrist, the footman had no choice but to release him.

“Enough.” The lieutenant climbed down from the carriage and regarded the marquess. “Instead of having this conversation here in the park, I suggest we return to Rothburne House. Take Lady Hannah home with you, and see to her health. I will follow in this carriage.”

“I should have the police drag you off to Newgate right now,” the marquess countered.

“He didn’t dishonor me, Papa.” Hannah moved forward, but when she exited the carriage, the world tipped. A rushing sound filled her ears, and Michael caught her elbow, steadying her. “I swear it. He protected me while I was ill.”

“Because of him, you may be ruined.” Her father stared at her as though she’d just run off with a chimney sweep. “You just spent the night with a common soldier.”

But she hadn’t. Not really. Heated tears sprung up in her eyes, for she didn’t know how to respond to her father’s accusations. Never could she have imagined he’d be this unreasonable.

A defense leapt to her lips, but Lieutenant Thorpe shook his head. “As I said before, this is not the place to talk. Take Lady Hannah home.”

Hannah had never heard anyone issue an order to her father before, but the lieutenant didn’t appear intimidated by the marquess.

“No one knows about this,” she whispered. “My reputation is still safe.”

“Is it?” Her father’s face was iron-cast. “Baron Belgrave knows all about what happened to you. Nonetheless, he has graciously offered to wed you.”

She’d rather die than wed Belgrave. “Papa, it isn’t as bad as all that. Lieutenant Thorpe did nothing wrong.”

“Belgrave informed me that Thorpe assaulted him and took you away in a stolen carriage.”

“That lying blackguard,” Hannah blurted out, then clamped her hand over her mouth. Insults wouldn’t help her cause.

Horrified, she met her father’s infuriated expression, hoping he wouldn’t believe the lies. Surely he would trust her, after all the years she’d been an obedient daughter. One mistake wouldn’t eradicate everything, would it?

Thoughts of the lieutenant’s forbidden kiss flayed her conscience.

She could have fought him off, but instead, she’d kissed him back.

It had been curiosity and shock, mingled together with the first stirrings of desire.

She’d wanted to know what a real kiss would be like. But not at this terrible cost.

“Harrison, take my daughter home,” the marquess commanded to his footman. “I will accompany Lieutenant Thorpe in this carriage.”

The lieutenant gave an abrupt nod, and Hannah tried to fathom the man’s thoughts. His hazel eyes were shielded, his face expressionless.

She prayed that they could undo the mistake that had been made. Surely they could keep matters quiet. She’d been a victim and didn’t deserve to be punished like this. If anyone deserved to be drawn and quartered, it was Lord Belgrave.

As the footman closed the carriage door, Hannah twisted her hands together. Thank goodness the lieutenant possessed no title. Were he an earl or a viscount, no doubt her father would demand that he marry her.

As a common officer in the British Army, that would never happen. She should feel relieved, but her nerves wound tighter. Her father was so angry right now, he might do something rash.

And she didn’t know what that might be.

“You should know that the only thing that prevents me from killing you where you stand is the fact that I don’t want your blood staining my carpet.” The Marquess of Rothburne pointed to a wingback chair in his study. “Sit.”

“I am not your dog,” Michael responded. He was well aware that he was only tossing oil upon the fire of Alfred Chesterfield’s rage, but he refused to behave as if he’d seduced Lady Hannah.

Kissed her, yes. But that wasn’t a crime.

Michael remained standing, resting his forearms upon the back of the chair, while he met the marquess’s gaze squarely. “I don’t regret rescuing Lady Hannah from Baron Belgrave. You know as well as I that the man isn’t worthy of her.”

“And neither are you.”

“You’re right.” There was no reason to take offense at the truth. Michael possessed enough to live comfortably on his army salary, but it wasn’t enough to support a marquess’s daughter. He didn’t want a wife or any family who would rely upon him.

“Because of you, her reputation is destroyed.”

“No.” Michael drew closer to the desk, resting his hands upon the carved wood. “Because of Belgrave. Were it not for him, she’d never have been taken from Rothburne House.”

“You should have brought her home immediately!” The marquess’s face was purple with wrath.

He knew it. But she’d been in such pain, he hadn’t wanted to make it worse. At the time, he’d thought it would only be for a short while—not hours. Perhaps he should have driven her home, despite the agony she would have endured. Still, it did no good to dwell upon events he couldn’t change.

“She’s had headaches like that one before, hasn’t she?” Michael said softly. “She told me she keeps laudanum in her reticule.”

“That is beside the point.”

“Is it? I presume you’ve seen how much she suffers? That any form of light or sound gives her pain beyond all understanding? I’ve seen men take a bullet through their shoulder and suffer less than what I saw her endure.”

He didn’t add that there were moments when he’d wondered if she was going to die. She’d been so pale, in such agony.

“Even if what you say is true, it doesn’t change the fact that you stayed with her alone for hours.” Alfred reached out for a letter opener, running his finger along the edge. “She is my only daughter. My youngest child.”

“This wasn’t her fault.” Yet, Michael didn’t see a clear solution. It wasn’t fair for Hannah to endure the sly gossip of the society matrons or to be shunned if word got out.

“No, it’s yours.” The marquess folded his arms, adding, “Don’t think that I would allow a man like you to wed her. You won’t touch a penny of her inheritance.”

Michael stepped back, his anger barely controlled. Keeping his voice steady, he said, “I don’t want anything from either of you. She was in trouble, and I went to help her. Nothing more.”

The marquess set his pen down. “I want you to leave England. I don’t want her to ever set eyes upon you again.” Picking up his pen, he began writing. “I am going to ask your commanding officer to see to it. I’ll contribute enough funds to the Army to make sure you stay far away from London.”

Michael didn’t doubt that the marquess’s money would accomplish anything the man wanted. “And what will happen to Lady Hannah?”

The marquess set down his pen. “Belgrave has offered to wed her.”

“No. Not him.” Michael clenched his fist. “You would offer her up to a man like that?”

“There is nothing wrong with Belgrave. He’s going to keep Hannah’s reputation safe.”

“You mean he’s going to reveal the scandal to everyone if she doesn’t wed him,” Michael guessed.

The marquess didn’t deny it. “I won’t let my daughter be hurt. Not if I can prevent it from happening.”

Hannah had seen her mother cry before but never like this. Usually Christine Chesterfield used her tears to dramatic effect, whenever her husband wouldn’t let her opinion sway him.

This time, Christine simply covered her mouth with her hand while the tears ran down her cheeks. Hannah sat across from her, while two cups of tea went cold. The grandfather clock in the parlor chimed eight o’clock. Eight hours was all it had taken to change her life completely.

“I promise you, Mother, I am fine,” Hannah murmured. “Neither of them compromised me.” She refused to cry, for the shock was still with her. “I don’t know what else to say when you won’t accept the truth.”

“This isn’t about truth.” Christine dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s about appearances.”

“It will be all right,” Hannah insisted. “My friends will believe me if they hear rumors. They know I would never do anything of that nature.” She stood up, pacing across the carpet. “I don’t see why we cannot simply tell everyone what happened.”

Christine blew her nose. “You are far too na?ve, my dear. We can’t risk any of this scandal leaking to anyone.”

“I am not ruined.”

“You are. Your only hope of salvaging what’s left of your honor is to marry Lord Belgrave and to do so quickly.”

“I will not marry that horrid man. He’s the reason all of this happened!” Hannah arranged her skirts, tucking her feet beneath them. “He kidnapped me from my own home, Mother! Why won’t you believe me?”

Her mother only shook her head sadly. “I believe you, Hannah. But the greater problem is that you spent hours alone in a carriage with a soldier. Lord Belgrave is right—nothing will cover up that scandal, if it gets out.”

But no one knew about it, except...

“He’s threatening you,” Hannah predicted, suddenly realizing the truth. “Belgrave plans to tell everyone about the scandal unless I wed him. Is that it?”

Her mother’s face turned scarlet. “We won’t let that happen.”

Hannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her parents were allowing themselves to be manipulated for her sake.