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She looked away, her gaze following the flow of houses along the street. “I did not come straight to Zoe’s home once my parents passed,” she said. “My brother was at sea, my parents were dead, and I had no money to pay off our creditors.”

“I am sorry,” he said.

She flicked her fingers at him as if his compassion meant nothing.

“The vicar came to give me solace. I would have welcomed prayers. Instead, he tried…” Her words cut off as she took a deep breath.

“I gave him a black eye. He damned me to everyone in the parish. He said that I was a wicked girl and God had taken my parents as punishment.”

“Bastard.” He spat the word out. “What is his name?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

It bloody well did. He would find out who it was and see him excommunicated and deported. And that was the kindest of possibilities. He might do something much, much worse.

“Not every man preys upon the weak,” he said.

“The man in the mail coach did, as did a footman in my uncle’s home.”

“Bloody hell.”

She lifted her chin to match him eye to eye. “My brother taught me how to defend myself. The man in the coach squealed like a stuck pig, and that footman is long gone.”

“I am very pleased to hear that.”

“I will fight you too, Your Grace. You are every girl’s dream come true, and yet…” She swallowed and blinked away the sheen in her eyes. “It is so very cruel, Your Grace, to play games like this.”

“I am not playing a game with you!” He spoke forcefully, shocked that she didn’t understand he was in earnest. “At least not with you. Not like you think.”

She dropped her gaze as she looked at her hands.

“I cannot marry you. The Crown must approve my bride, and Prinny wants Lady Zoe.” Bitterness laced his tone. “But I don’t have to marry you to make you fashionable.”

She shook her head. “My place in society is doomed. And you need to leave Zoe alone if you will not have her.”

He shook his head. “Nothing is set in stone. Certainly not in the haut ton. I can at least get you a Season. One where you might meet a man to marry.” He risked touching her hands, startled by how cold they felt. “What other choice do you have?”

She released a laugh that held no humor in it. She had no faith in him. Indeed, he doubted she believed in any man’s honor. “There are ways for a woman to survive.”

“Many ways, but without a sterling reputation, where would you work?” He didn’t have to enumerate them for her. She might find work as a laundress or a maid, but she’d never become a teacher or governess. Even a position as a lady’s companion was doubtful. “You’d be miserable.”

“And what would I get as your pretend infatuation?”

He winced at her wording. There was nothing imagined about his infatuation with her. “Time,” he answered. “Time to redeem your reputation. Time to meet other men—”

“Time for you to seduce and discard me when your attention wanders. Or when you meet the lady whom you will wed.”

He didn’t think his attention would ever wander from her, but such was the illusion that came with infatuation. Instead, he addressed the latter issue.

“I will not wed this season. No one interests me.” No one but her.

She looked at him, and in the darkness, it was hard to read her expression. Did he see hope there? Wariness? Then she sighed as she dropped back against the squabs. “It doesn’t matter. I will be sacked in the morning.”

The devil she would. “I will speak to your aunt and uncle.”

“Again? You barely convinced them last time. They want you marrying Zoe, not courting me. Even if it is a ruse.”

He ground his teeth. Damn it, why was this so complicated? “I will not marry Zoe.” He sighed. “But I can introduce her to my friends. I can—”

“You will matchmake for me and her? You? A duke who hates the social rounds.”

She was right. Nate would be a much better person for this. Nate knew everyone, including people on the fringes of high society. Surely there would be good men who were not in the social whirl. A wholesome husband who could give her the life she deserved.

“How can I convince you that I am in earnest?” In truth, he didn’t need to convince her. He just needed to do it. But then her next words shot terror into his heart.

“I will find lodging near the docks. My brother is due to return in the next few months. I need only survive until he—”

“Months!” he gasped. Did she know what happened to women near the docks? “You cannot think that is safe.”

“What choice do I have?” she whispered.

Me! he wanted to scream. He was her choice. But obviously she did not believe it.

It was panic that made him do it. Sheer terror at the idea of her disappearing somewhere near the docks, never to be seen again. He couldn’t stomach the idea of what could happen to her there. Nor did he want her to just disappear from his life as if she had never been.

He couldn’t allow that, so he reached for the one thing he knew would convince her of his determination. If he’d had time to think about it, he never would have done it. But emotions ruled him now.

He took off the ruby that held his cravat in place. It wasn’t just a stone. The gold around it was fashioned in the shape of his family crest—a red swan symbolizing valor and purity. The gold alone was worth more than she’d probably ever had. Add in the ruby, and she could be set for years.

But that wasn’t the real value of the jewelry. Any soul who saw it would know that it was his. It wasn’t a promise as clear as a ring, but it was undeniably his. And it was a promise of a sort.

He prayed that it was enough. He pressed the heavy jewelry into her hand.

“What are you doing?” she gasped. “I can’t take that!”

“You can and you will,” he said, though the enormity of this action left him quaking.

“Your Grace! I cannot.”

He wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed. “With my crest, I pledge that my actions are honorable. I will see that you are taken care of.”

“You can’t!” she squeaked.

“And yet I do.”

Then he banged on the top of the carriage.

He knew where they were. She could return safely to her home from here.

The horses stopped and he quickly pulled the cloak over her head.

She was still shocked by his action. Truth be told, he was as well.

But he gave neither of them time for second thoughts.

The footman pulled open the door and he tugged her out of her seat. She had no choice but to get out. She pushed her hand forward, trying to drop the ring in his lap, but he encircled her hand with his fist. She would not drop it.

“That is my life and my honor you carry,” he whispered. “Pray do not lose it.”

“Your Grace—”

“Call me Ras,” he said. He gestured to the footman who had a hand on her elbow. “See that she gets back safely.” Then he shut the door on her shocked face.