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Trevor leaned back against the wide seat, enjoying the plush velvet and thick padding beneath him.

The elegant coach was a vehicle he seldom used, for it was too large and luxurious for just one person.

And it carried his coat of arms brazenly upon the door, which made discretion about town a near impossibility.

Yet he was glad he had decided to take this monstrosity to the ball this evening, for it provided a much needed means of escape at the most fortuitous of moments.

“Are you going to speak to me, or sit there glowering for the entire journey to your home?” Trevor inquired of the tight-lipped female who sat across from him.

“I thought you would prefer a silent glower over a heated lecture,” Meredith replied stiffly. “But if you truly wish to hear my thoughts on this matter, I should be pleased to oblige you.”

Trevor coughed softly, lifting his hand to his mouth to hide the brief smile that emerged.

He had thought her beautiful in the ballroom, exquisite in the evening shadows of the garden, but now she was beyond equal as she sat across from him, wearing her indignity like a royal badge of honor.

Though it was dark, he could see the fire of anger she cast his way, and it set his blood racing.

“I fear you are overreacting to the situation, Lady Meredith. ’Twas just a stolen kiss.”

“A stolen kiss!” Meredith’s lips tightened.

“ ’Tis not the incident but rather the discovery of it that has me all tied in knots.

The Duchess of Lancaster is a mean-spirited gossip who thrives on the misery of others.

She despises me, which will make the telling and retelling of this sordid tale all the more enjoyable for her.

” Meredith paused and took a deep breath.

“This, my lord, is a full-blown scandal.”

“You exaggerate.” Trevor frowned skeptically. “However, if you had done as I asked and left with me from the gardens instead of returning to the ballroom, all this could have been easily avoided.”

“How gallant of you to point that out to me, sir, at this late juncture,” Meredith huffed. She tilted her chin in the air. “If I had listened to my innate good sense, this unfortunate incident would never have occurred. But that, as the saying goes, is water under the bridge.”

“You insult me, Lady Meredith.”

“How so?”

“Labeling my kisses, my caresses, an unfortunate incident is a serious insult to my manhood. Is that perchance a challenge to best my performance in the gazebo?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

This time he did allow his laughter to escape.

She was nothing short of magnificent. The cloak she wore was unfastened, leaving her gown exposed.

She still had the glow of a woman who had recently enjoyed a passionate embrace, and that mussed, slightly disheveled look had kept the erection in his trousers throbbing ever since they had entered the carriage.

Wisps of blond hair were falling around her face and the tops of her breasts seemed ready to spill out of that sparkling blue gown at any moment.

Trevor silently cursed the driving skill of his coachman, for if they hit a particularly nasty rut the force might succeed in jolting that pair of beauties free of their confines.

The very idea put a fine sheen of sweat on Trevor’s brow.

“I am sure this will all be forgotten by tomorrow evening,” he said smoothly. “The most appealing element of any gossip is its newness. This little tidbit will be dropped the moment the rumormongers discover new grist to run through their mill.”

“This is not a mere tidbit of gossip, this is a banquet,” Meredith snapped. Her mouth twisted one way, then another. “All possibilities of a quick ending to this little drama vanished the moment you stood by my side to defend me. Until your appearance, all the duchess had was suspicions.”

“We were seen dancing together a mere three quarters of an hour before you returned to the ballroom,” Trevor replied, wondering why he felt such a need to defend his actions.

“The duchess is a woman of only moderate intelligence, but even a lackwit would be have been able to determine I was the person who put you in that most charming, disheveled state.”

Meredith ducked her head. For a moment Trevor thought she was blushing, but when she lifted her chin, her eyes were blazing with emotion.

“Suspicion is one thing, proof another,” she insisted.

“Proof? What proof?” Trevor asked. “We were not caught in a compromising situation.”

“Exactly. If you had not come to my defense, I could have brazened it out, left the duchess with only suspicions of what I had been doing and no idea of with whom.” Meredith turned her head and groaned. “Your defense of me ruined everything.”

“I cannot imagine what came over me,” he said, fixing her a look of mock dismay.

“The duchess was clearly doing her best to humiliate you, and I thoughtlessly intervened to prevent it. In retrospect that was a very uncharacteristic action, for I am constantly told I seldom behave with even the slightest degree of honor. Therefore, I extend my apologies.”

“Would you kindly do me the courtesy of waiting until I have left before indulging your off-color sense of humor? Unlike you, I do not find this situation in any way amusing.” She rested her head against the cool glass of the carriage window and sighed.

Normally such a scathing set down would have had him answering her in kind. Yet she seemed genuinely upset, and for some ridiculous reason Trevor’s conscience pricked at him.

“Is it really all that horrible?”

“I am a strong, forceful person in many regards, yet I posses one keen weakness—a great horror of scandals.” She closed her eyes and sighed again.

“A scandal of this ilk has far-reaching consequences, my lord. It can be detrimental in ways we have yet to discover. The perception of our discretion can have even more harmful effects, not just for us but for various members of our family.”

He grimaced. “When you speak of your family, I presume you are referring to your husband?”

“My what?” She sat up suddenly, nearly knocking her head on the window latch in the process.

“Your husband, Lady Meredith. When this scandal reaches his ears, will he be very cross with you?”

She gasped and gave him a strange look, then opened her mouth to reply. She closed it abruptly, without uttering a sound, opened it a second time, closed it yet again, this time biting her lips together so tightly they turned white.

“Who told you I was married?” she asked at last.

“No one. I just assumed.” A gnawing anxiety sprang to life in the back of his mind, but he cautioned himself against overreacting. Neither her attitude nor her kisses were those of a maiden. Of that Trevor felt very certain.

“You are a very beautiful woman, Meredith. I remember well the year you made your debut in Society, and despite your unconventional demeanor, you were much sought after by the young bucks. And the old men. And most other males in-between.

“I knew you had turned down many proposals that year, but I naturally assumed you had married sometime in the interim. It was a long time ago.”

“I am not that old,” she cried out with indignity.

“Old?” Trevor smiled faintly. “You are far from a crone, and yet even you must concede you are hardly in the first blush of youth.”

“I am twenty-six years old.” Meredith snorted. “Four years younger than you, my lord.”

“And well past the age of marriage.” His eyes met hers. “My assumption was a natural one.”

“Your assumption was an insult.” The look she shot him was one of pure disgust. “And speaks of your contemptuous regard of women. I can assure you if I were pledged to another man, wed before God, I would not have been kissing you in the garden. I would honor my vows, especially that of fidelity.”

Trevor’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. Why had she kissed him? Unmarried women of society guarded their reputations and persons most diligently. Unless they were seeking a husband.

“I believe you owe me an explanation, Lady Meredith.”

Her eyes flashed, but instead of a scathing retort she gave him a smile filled with irony. “The kiss we shared was part of a wager. A wager you have now lost.”

Her tone had him tensing while her confidence made him even more edgy. “I can assure you, Lady Meredith, I make countless wagers each day. You must be more specific if I am to recall a particular one.”

She looked on the verge of shouting, but somehow managed to resist the urge to scream at him.

“Last week, while dining out with my brothers, you declared, most vehemently, that a spinster harbors no passion in her soul. My brothers disagreed with this notion, suggesting the opposite. The challenge was put forth to find a spinster who would kiss a rake, of her own volition, with passion and ardor.”

“You are the spinster?” he asked in an incredulous tone.

“I am. And you are the rake.” Even in the glittering light, he could see the spark of satisfaction in her eyes. “So the challenge has been met. You, sir, have lost the wager.”

Her words might have angered him. Or made him cry foul, for it felt very much like he had been well and truly fooled. Despite her age, she was hardly the type of female he had in mind when he spoke of spinsters.

Even by his rather lax standards, her behavior had been highly improper and exceedingly daring. Yet the marquess wisely swallowed that observation and instead offered another.

“I must correct your assumption, Lady Meredith. I might have lost some coin and, if I recall clearly, an incomparable pair of matched bays. However, after kissing you, I strongly contend I am the true winner of this wager.”

On the opposite end of town, the moonless night provided a cloak of anonymity for the man who waited in the shadows of a tavern. There was little chance of being recognized by anyone on the street, for he seldom frequented this rather seedy, rundown area of London, yet caution was needed.