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Rounding his desk, the older man answered. “An act engineered for Lady Hastings’ benefit. We surmised, Lord James, you might offer some resistance to the betrothal.”

A strange sound, like crunching gravel, came from Garrick.

Zeke, conversely, remained mute.

Perspiration trickled down her back and dampened the area between Kitty’s clamped breasts. Strange, considering her frozen fingers and toes.

“While we feel certain any such resistance can and will be easily circumvented, we hope to avoid any such unpleasantness, for the lady’s sake, as well as the sake of the Claybourne title.

Ours is an old, very influential bloodline”—he stressed the word influential—“with ties directly to the royal family. As such, we’re reluctant to invite unnecessary scandal.

” He narrowed his eyes. “But, if necessary, that is exactly what we will do.”

Garrick’s nostrils flared as he studied the faces of the two Claybourne men. He ignored Kitty. Everyone in the room was ignoring her, she noted, suddenly on the verge of laughter. She bit her lower lip to staunch the inane urge.

“What say you, Lord Thurgood? This afternoon at the club, you expressed no small amount of curiosity concerning the true identity of the earl’s tiger known as—” He paused and allowed his gaze to rake Kitty, head to toe. “—Kit.”

Anger slammed her like a blast from the furnace. Zeke had done this. Zeke, with his need not to be made the fool, as he’d put it only hours ago.

No wonder he’d arrived home in a jolly mood. He’d met Garrick and somehow put it all together. He waltzed in knowing full well Garrick was coming to take her away.

She wouldn’t have thought him capable of such ignoble scheming, or such cruelty.

Her shoulders slumped. What did it matter? What was done was done. Garrick would demand she go with him immediately, of course. To where? A hotel? A boarding house? Or would they head directly to—

“As the Earl of Claybourne testified, Lord James, my purported ignorance was all part of a carefully crafted plot to keep any scandal from attaching to Lady Hastings’ name, as she and I have resided under the same roof. Indeed, her bedchamber is just down the hall from mine.”

Kitty blinked, unable to believe her ears.

His steely blue gaze shifted to her. Their eyes locked, and he gave her a thin smile. “I can and do attest to the veracity of our betrothal.”

Her breath caught. She lowered her eyes, ashamed at the earlier direction of her thoughts. Zeke had taken up the earl’s lie. Might the ruse work?

This was Garrick. A little thing like a betrothal wouldn’t stop him. As her guardian he could deny the supposed match. Likely would.

Still, this so-called engagement would afford her time. Time she could use to plan another escape.

“I see.” Garrick pursed his lips. “You can, of course, produce documents attesting to this betrothal?”

A muscle ticked in Zeke’s jaw. He took one step toward Garrick.

The earl stayed him with a touch to his forearm. “Of course. We’ll need to contact our solicitor for a copy of the agreement, however.”

Garrick made a show of examining his nails. “As a fellow peer, I find it unspeakably gauche you entered into such a liaison without negotiating a settlement with me, her legal guardian.”

“With you? No,” the earl replied. “We do, however, have a document signed by the late Baron, attesting to his approval of the marriage.”

Garrick’s eyes flashed with uncertainty. She could almost read his thoughts. Was there any such signed document? If so, could he contest it?

Kitty almost smiled.

“I see,” Garrick murmured. “Speaking as her living guardian, I must insist on an amendment to the contract, to allow for certain…” He paused, and one corner of his mouth crooked upward.

“You refer to a monetary settlement, I assume, Lord James?” Lord Claybourne asked.

“Indeed.”

Zeke glowered at no one in particular.

“That will be no problem—one our solicitors can see to. As for the previously signed documents, we shall provide those at the earliest possible opportunity.”

“Tomorrow will work nicely,” Garrick bit out.

His hand snaked out to grasp her wrist, and she chirped in alarm.

“What is it, cousin? You’re as nervous as a church mouse.”

She tried to pull free, but he held tight.

“I can’t possibly allow you to remain under the same roof as your betrothed, unchaperoned. You will come with me.”

“What's this?” The earl demanded. “You can’t take her.”

Garrick’s grip tightened until her bones screamed at the pressure, yet, when he spoke, his tone was cool. “I can and I will. I’m staying at a reputable boarding house in Albemarle, where I’m certain I’ll have no trouble securing another chamber.”

He curled his nose at Kitty as if suddenly smelling a rat. “Have you a gown, or must I parade you around town dressed in your boy garb?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

“See you do something with your hair, as well. Quickly. We leave immediately.” He finally released her.

She rubbed her aggrieved skin and cast a miserable glance at the earl before starting from the room.

“Oh no you don’t, James. You’ll produce documents attesting to your guardianship before you to leave the premises with Lady Kitty.”

Garrick’s eyes bulged in outrage. “I beg your pardon?”

“I can’t possibly sanction her leaving with you, with no chaperone to speak of, and no proof to the validity of your claim.”

“Kitty can attest…” Garrick’s words died in his throat. He realized the unlikelihood of Kitty verifying his sovereignty over her. “My solicitor can provide documents, but it’ll take some time. Or we can let a magistrate decide tonight.” His tone turned sly.

“Call the—” the earl began in a growl, only to be cut off by Zeke.

“We’ll send a chaperone with you for tonight.”

“And then what, Zeke? It will take longer than twenty-four hours for James to attain the paperwork needed,” the earl growled.

“Likewise, for you to produce your betrothal contract,” Garrick snapped.

“It seems we are at a standoff,” Zeke said, arms open wide. “Shall we cut the—my fiancé in half?” His lips curved in a grim smile.

“I-I’ll go,” Kitty said.

“I’ll permit it on two conditions. One, the baron agrees to return with you first thing on the morrow,” the earl said, his eyes shooting daggers at Garrick.

“Of course,” Garrick replied. “And the second?”

“Afterward, we ride for Chissington Hall.”

“Chissington Hall?” Garrick asked.

“My seat—Derbyshire.”