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W hy, the gall of the man!

Spotting the cocky glimmer in Finn’s eyes, Macie bit back an unladylike reply. The man had no more desire to twirl about the dance floor than she did. Rather, he’d transformed Lady Chastity’s unsubtle attempt to ease the tedium of her marriage to a man old enough to be her father into a means to sabotage Lady Drayton’s scheme. If Finn possessed so much as a single gentlemanly inclination, she might have believed his invitation had been intended to offer her a reprieve, however brief, from their hostess’s matchmaking.

But Phineas Caldwell was no gentleman.

His motives had nothing to do with chivalry, nor was he intent on looking out for her best interests. If anything, he was making the most of this opportunity to vex both Lady Drayton and Lady Chastity, if only to watch the younger woman pout.

The cocky curve of his smile seemed to challenge her. Macie resisted the urge to glare at him. He’d put her on quite the spot, hadn’t he? Heaven knew she had no inclination to wade into the crowd of peacocks, much less while garbed as a mud hen.

Drat the man’s arrogance.

Surely Finn knew better than to ply his charm on her.

Regardless of his intentions, she could wiggle out of this. A simple “No” would do the trick. But as Macie felt their hostess’s gaze bore into her, as if willing her to utter the word that might free them from his presence, a fresh sense of rebellion reared its head. Lady Drayton regarded Macie as a fortune in skirts. The prospect of Macie—and her father’s money—waltzing away in the arms of a very handsome rogue no doubt horrified the silver-haired paragon of society.

So much the better.

One dance. Whatever could be the harm in it? Perhaps, if she stepped just so, she might actually tread on this arrogant man’s toes. That might be just the thing to wipe the brash smile from his face.

Or then again, probably not. He was not likely to give her the satisfaction of seeing him grimace. But it might be amusing to try.

“You’re a brave one, aren’t you? Have you considered I might take another tumble?” she teased, if only to watch Lady Chastity’s mouth sag into a frown and Lady Drayton’s thin to a razor’s edge.

He hiked a brow. “If you fall, I shall catch ye.”

“I suppose you will. After all, you have already demonstrated that ability.”

“I consider it an unheralded talent.”

Offering him the slightest of smiles, Macie accepted his arm and accompanied him to the ballroom floor. “Lady Drayton is not fond of you. Be thankful the daggers in her eyes are not real.”

He flashed a grin as they made their way onto the polished dance floor. “I take it she’s scowling at me again.”

Macie glanced toward their hostess. “Oh, I’d say it has surpassed a scowl. If the woman possessed the ability to turn a man into a stone, you would be in a bit of trouble just about now.”

“Medusa had nothing on that silk-clad bag of bones.”

She laughed softly as they moved in time to the music. “I would say that’s an understatement. Did you truly think you could charm your way into her good graces with that wicked smile of yours?”

“Not for a moment. I would have better luck riding an ill-tempered lioness. Bareback.”

“Indeed.” Macie suppressed a giggle. “Whatever did you do to the woman?”

Finn hesitated for an incriminating second, then another. “It wasn’t what I did to her. ”

“Ah, I see.” Understanding dawned on Macie. “Or do I? Her niece made a match recently. To a baron, as I recall.”

“A match? More of a negotiation, really.” A sudden reflectiveness fell over his features. “Deandra was a pawn to her mother’s queen.”

“You cared for her?”

“Yes.” His hesitation accented the word. “But we were not lovers, if that’s what ye’re thinking.”

“Then why does Lady Drayton regard you as the devil’s spawn?”

“’Tis a long story. Suffice it to say that Lady Drayton was set on overseeing her niece’s path toward wedded bliss with a respectable man. As ye can imagine, she viewed me as an entirely unsuitable distraction.”

“I see.”

“Enough of that, Miss Mary Catherine Mason.” The tinge of reflectiveness in his eyes evaporated, replaced by a hint of a smile that rendered his emotions unreadable. “I’d rather talk about ye. I’m told ye’ve scandalized the elites of London.”

“Of London,” she agreed with a smile. “Of Cardiff. And possibly, of Edinburgh.”

“Ye always had the devil in yer eyes.” Finally, his smile was genuine.

“You’re a fine one to talk.” She returned his smile as they moved easily to the beat of the waltz. “Rumor has it you’ve been raising Cain on two continents.”

“Exaggeration.” He looked pleased with himself. “For the most part. And ye?”

“I’m not nearly so wild as the gossips would have it. For the most part.”

Macie lifted her gaze to meet his. She’d remembered him from the first moment she’d dangled inelegantly within his strong hands. Finn Caldwell was undeniably handsome, with a touch of devilish humor in his expression. Just as he’d been all those years before. But now, from a distinctly better vantage point—standing upright and firmly on her feet—she took a better look.

Nearly a decade had passed since that summer when Finn had visited their family’s country home in Bristol for the last time. In those days, her brother’s friend had worn his hair longer. Back then, the light brown strands had seemed a bit wild and untamed. Like him. His face had been fuller and ruddy cheeked. But the keen intelligence and brash confidence in his expression had not dimmed. Not one whit.

They’d been so young in those days, the three-year difference in their ages might as well have been a century. During that time, he’d regarded her—a slender, long-limbed girl of sixteen—with no more interest than if she’d been part of the furniture. But that hadn’t stopped her from noticing the mischief in his gaze and the way tiny lines crinkled around his eyes when he smiled. Why, even their mother, prim and proper as she’d been, had not been able to resist smiling at his good-humored laugh. Finn Caldwell could charm any female in the room. With the current exception of Lady Drayton, that is. Given the hint of arrogance in his gaze, he was still well aware of that fact.

In those days, she’d thought Finn Caldwell appealing. Now, taking in his carved features and the sensuous curve of his mouth, she swallowed hard against an unfamiliar rush of heat. Ah, appealing was far too tame a word to describe the man Finn had become. The sensuous set of his full mouth and the rugged cut of his jaw drew her gaze with a nearly magnetic pull. As did the breadth of his shoulders, betraying a natural masculine power no amount of strategic padding could replicate. If she allowed her thoughts to wander, she could well imagine the sleek muscle beneath his unadorned white shirt and gray waistcoat. How would it feel to skim her fingertips over his skin, to learn the texture of the hair on his chest?

Oh, my . She blinked to clear her head. Could he have hazarded a guess as to the direction of her thoughts? If he had, he’d thankfully possessed the good sense to hide that awareness.

“I see ye’ve finally grown into yer legs,” he said, his voice low and husky, nearly seductive. Other than the highly unexpected nature of his commentary.

She lifted her chin to meet his eyes. “I beg your pardon.”

One corner of his mouth hitched, not quite a smile. “I remember a girl who had legs like a young colt, too blasted long for the rest of her.”

“I cannot imagine you were ever privy to the sight of my legs, too long or otherwise.”

“Surely ye haven’t forgotten the scandal ye stirred?”

“Scandal?” She bit back a smile. “Surely you have me confused with another.”

“Impossible. Ye’re one of a kind, Macie.”

She gave a deliberate little shrug. “One might say the same of you. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a young man practice his arrogant stare to perfection as you did.”

“I’ll have ye know I had no need to practice. Some things come naturally,” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “But I’d never confuse ye with another lass on horseback. Those riding breeches ye wore while gallivanting about the countryside on that gelding of yers spurred every old biddy in the county to talk.”

“Ah, I loved that horse.” Wistful recollection swept her away. “Adonis was a gentle beast.”

“As I recall, yer father turned a rather alarming shade of red—or was it purple?—when ye trotted past those lords he was out to impress, all gathered at yer fine country house.”

“Red,” Macie said. “Papa does tend to become agitated far more frequently than is healthy.”

“Am I to surmise ye’re the cause?”

“At times.” She glanced at Lady Drayton, catching sight of the woman’s frosty gaze as Finn led her in time to the waltz.

Finn chuckled. “If he were here, he’d be that shade right about now, wouldn’t he?”

“Most likely. If he had his way, I’d be finding my way off the shelf.”

Finn’s brows hiked. “Wed to some lofty lord or another?”

“Papa has decided the one thing our family has yet to acquire is a title.”

“And the Viscount Drayton could offer that.”

Macie shrugged. “Among others. Papa would prefer the lord in question to have his own fortune, but he’s willing to... negotiate.”

Finn nodded his understanding. “But ye’re not?”

She allowed herself a brief smile. “So far, I’ve made it my life’s purpose to foil his plan.”

“As I hear it, ye’ve enjoyed smashing success. If I had a glass of champagne, I would raise a toast.”

“Somehow, I cannot envision you drinking champagne.”

He gave a lazy shrug. “It’s not my drink of choice. But I would make the sacrifice.” His smile faded, his expression suddenly contemplative. “Ye know yer strategy won’t work forever, Macie. Sooner or later, ye’ll run into a man who isn’t afraid of a scandal or two.”

She studied Finn’s carved features for a long moment, taking in the face that had inspired more than one girlish fantasy of heroes and other such romantic rot. Until the night he’d quite thoroughly shattered her na?ve dreams. At the time, she’d hoped never again to look into those wicked amber eyes.

But now, she was older. Wiser. Well beyond the illusions that had made her young heart so very vulnerable. A spark of inspiration kindled into the tiniest of flames. Perhaps, just perhaps, Finn Caldwell’s unexpected appearance might well serve a purpose in her life.

Yes, that was it. What she needed was a scandal.

And not just any scandal. Shaking off the heiress hunters on her trail had not proven easy all these years. No, she would create a scene certain to hike the eyebrows of London’s oh-so-dignified elite and make even a woman like Lady Chastity blush. She’d cook up a scandal that would banish the notion of a wedding from the minds of money-hunting men and their scheming mothers once and for all.

A scandal like that required a man. And not just any man.

She needed a rogue.

Since her arrival in London, Macie had heard talk of Finn’s exploits. If even a fraction of the rumors were true, charming, clever Finn Caldwell had become a rogue, through and through. Why, he could give her rake of a brother a run for his money.

As luck would have it, the man who might play a vital part in her plan was, at that very moment, whisking her around the ballroom.

This is madness. Reason and logic battled the wild notion.

And then, she felt Lady Drayton’s diamond-hard gaze drilling into her. Assessing her worth as marriage material.

At times, a brief madness is just the thing.

“You’re quite right. I suppose it is a matter of time before one of them catches up to me,” she said with a steady tone that belied the surging of her pulse. “Unless I tarnish my heiress halo so thoroughly even Papa’s money won’t be able to polish it away.”

He regarded her curiously. “An ambitious plan, even for you, Macie.”

“Ambitious.” She veiled her gaze with her lashes and pulled in a calming breath. “That’s one way of putting it. But to achieve the desired outcome, I need a man.” She lifted her gaze to lock with Finn’s. “A rake, to be precise.”

His casual smile faded. Slowly, he shook his head. “And what makes ye think the rake in question would not welcome marriage to an heiress?”

She met his questioning eyes. “He would have to be someone I could trust. That goes without saying.”

“A trustworthy rake?” He coughed for effect. “A contradiction, indeed.”

“Not necessarily. If the man in question had certain ties to my family.”

Furrows etched between his dark brows. “Ye’re suggesting we start a scandal?”

“It may just prove amusing.” She forced a little smile.

“Staring down the wrong end of a pistol in yer father’s hand?” Finn slowly shook his head. “Or worse yet, being dragged before a vicar?” He pretended to shudder. “I see no humor in either case.”

She hiked her chin, shoring up her confidence. “I am not considering anything so dramatic.”

The tiny lines on his forehead deepened. “I will not be responsible...” He seemed to struggle for the words, uncharacteristically at a loss. “For compromising ye.”

She plastered on a deliberately vapid stare. “Might I ask why you believe I have not yet been compromised ?”

“Have ye, then?” His tone was as bland as if he’d requested a glass of water from the elegantly clad server who strolled by with a tray of goblets.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “A gentleman would not ask such a question.”

“A moment ago, ye wanted a rogue. Now ye want a gentleman.”

“What I want truly does not matter. Not to Papa. Not to Jon. And especially not to vultures like Lady Drayton. For now, I am on the shelf. And I’d prefer to stay there.”

“I consider yer brother a friend. I will not betray him. Or ye, for that matter.”

“We would not even have to do anything. The appearance of impropriety, the mere suggestion that I’ve been compromised would serve my purpose.”

“What ye’re suggesting will get the two of us dragged to utter vows.” He frowned. “Count me out.”

“Well, this is a disappointment. Given the reputation that precedes you, I was expecting you to be far more bold.”

He scrubbed his hand over his jaw. “There is a fine line between boldness and idiocy.”

“Do tell,” she challenged.

“Creating a stir with an heiress whose father is extremely skilled at hitting his target is a risk I am not willing to take.”

“Don’t be so dramatic” She pulled in a low breath. “A little scandal never hurt anyone. Surely you, the consummate rogue, are well acquainted with the concept.”

Once again, he shook his head. “The price would be too high.”

“My brother will understand,” she said, still confident she could bring him around to the notion. “I will explain it is nothing but a ruse.”

“Even so, the cost will be far too high... not for me, Macie. For ye.” He gazed down at her as the notes of the waltz faded, and the musicians fell silent. “My answer is ‘no.’”

The couples who had filled the dance floor strolled to the perimeter of the ballroom. His expression unreadable, Finn escorted her from the floor.

Dash the luck . She’d happened upon a rogue with a conscience. How very unexpected . And more than a bit disappointing.

“A bit of scandal might be entertaining,” she said for his ears alone, if only to lighten the mood.

Turning to her, he spoke in a low, husky rasp. “If ye’re intent on tarnishing your pretty crown, ye’ll do it without me.”

“There is no changing your mind?”

“Not a chance.” He plowed a hand through his hair. “Ye will get in over yer head.”

She forced a lightness she did not feel into her voice. “And you will not be there to save me?”

As Lady Drayton’s gaze honed in on her, Macie squared her shoulders and cocked her chin. Her all-too-brief reprieve was coming to an end. Moving closer to Finn than was proper, she struggled to read the contradictions in his eyes. Just as she had all those years before, when she’d been drawn to him with a sixteen-year-old girl’s infatuated heart. Back then, she’d found his quick wit as endearing as his amber-brown gaze. Until the cool, moonlit night when Finn had shown his true colors. The night he’d put her firmly in her place.

Spinster-in-training .

The words he’d uttered that starry midnight suddenly echoed in her thoughts. Now, they were adults. And he’d done it again.

Of all the men in that ballroom who might have caught me, why did it have to be Finn Caldwell?

For a heartbeat, perhaps two, she toyed with brushing a kiss against his cheek, if only to shock their hostess. But she leaned in close to him and spoke the truth.

“Years ago, you were wrong about me, Finn Caldwell. And you still haven’t figured me out.” As she turned on her heel to walk away, she threw a forced smile over her shoulder. “I suspect you never will.”