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her to tea. My stepmother is transported with excitement at the thought of taking tea with the great Lady Parthenope.’

      ‘How charming.’

      Her eyes flashed blue fire. ‘I won’t have my stepmother mocked, Lord Bingfield.’

      He inclined his head. ‘I was referring to my aunt, rather than your stepmother. I had not anticipated this development.’

      ‘Your aunt began it.’

      ‘Aunts are a law unto themselves, Miss Ravel, particularly my aunts. They can be wildly unpredictable. It is part of their charm.’ Aunts were a law unto themselves, but he’d never expect his aunt to take it this far, making contact with Miss Ravel’s relations before any nuptials were publically announced. There again, his aunt prided herself on her ability to ferret out people’s most discreet indiscretion and remembering snippets of gossips. It was why she proved such an effective gatekeeper for Almack’s. Currently slow torture would be too good for her, in Richard’s opinion. He’d suggest it to one of his cousins. ‘I hope your stepmother will not be too disappointed when you explain why she must not accept this invitation.’

      ‘My stepmother has longed for such an invitation ever since she first married my late father. She wishes to mingle with the truly genteel.’ Her neat white teeth worried her bottom lip, turning it the colour of ripe cherries. There was something innocent about her. Despite her age and reputation of being formidable, she seemed soft and gentle and in definite need of protection. ‘It was one of the reasons I was sent away to school for a time.’

      ‘My aunt is haughty rather than genteel. Her rudeness and sense of entitlement can be shocking at times.’

      ‘No matter how I explain that it doesn’t matter, my stepmother persists.’ Miss Ravel shrugged a shoulder. ‘My stepmother must do as she pleases, but I have disabused her of any notion that we are considering an alliance. I leave it to you to inform your aunt.’

      ‘Did you have anything to do with the item in papers? Are you responsible for it?’

      ‘The appearance of the item is a mystery and most vexing.’ Her eyes flared. ‘Why on earth would I want to endanger my reputation by linking my name with yours? I am well aware of what happens to women who become entangled with men like you.’

      ‘A simple yes or no to the original question will suffice.’ Richard fought to control his temper. Miss Ravel made it sound as though he was some sort of affliction to be avoided at all costs. He had never knowingly ruined a woman. ‘We shall go at it another way. Do you know your enemy, Miss Ravel?’

      Her blue eyes met his. ‘Then, no, if you must know, I did not contact the papers. And until today, I didn’t consider that I had an enemy. Sir Vincent must be more persistent than I thought. He has ignored your aunt’s pronouncement of total innocence. Why would he do such a thing, except that he knows the merest hint of your name will soil my reputation?’

      The tension rushed out of Richard’s shoulders. Her assessment was the same as his. ‘Thank you. I believe you. Forgive me for doubting you, but I had to know.’

      The fire went out of her eyes. ‘You are apologising.’

      ‘Sir Vincent and I have previous history. He is a formidable enemy.’

      ‘Indeed.’ She passed a hand over her eyes and sank down on to the pink-damask sofa. ‘I have made an enemy who intends to use underhanded means to win.’

      ‘He has succeeded before. I am determined to stop him. This time.’ Without bidding, the image of Mary’s face floated in front of his eyes. He would have done the decent thing and married Mary before he was sent down from Oxford, despite the pain it would have caused his father. If he’d done that, she’d never have been forced into that marriage, would have never run away and met her death in that canal accident. He forced his mind away. He had to concentrate on the now and saving Miss Ravel. He knew what she was up against. Miss Ravel was an innocent.

      ‘Putney means to ruin you, Miss Ravel. I’ve seen him do it to other women years ago and this time I will stop him.’

      ‘Ruin me? How?’ she said with a hiccupping laugh. ‘We have witnesses that you made an honourable proposal. Sir Vincent can’t harm me.’

      ‘There are several scandal-mongers lurking outside your house.’ He gave an apologetic smile. ‘When you have been notorious, you learn to know their type. I sent them on their way.’

      ‘They are watching the house? Still?’

      ‘It is entirely possible,’ Richard admitted.

      Miss Ravel walked over to the drawing-room window and closed the shutters with a bang.

      ‘You should have told me about them before you started accusing me of informing the papers. My stepmother will be beside herself. My former guardian will have apoplexy. I would never have allowed you in if I’d known.’

      ‘I went to my club after I left the ball. I hadn’t seen the papers or I would have been here earlier…’

      ‘But they will know you were here.’ She put her hands to her head. Her face had gone pale. ‘Don’t you see? The scandal will be all the greater. The scandalous Lord B has called on the redoubtable Miss R … or possibly the not-so-fearsome Miss R…but wilful and headstrong.’

      She clasped her hands together as if she was trying to keep them from trembling. Richard fought against the inclination to take her in his arms and hold her until the trembling stopped. She was right. His coming here had made matters worse, but he could not have just left her to face the coming storm alone. It was not in his nature.

      ‘It had to be done. Your post could be watched. The gutter press is called that for a reason.’

      ‘I shall have to quit society.’ Miss Ravel began to pace the room. ‘My stepmother will be displeased, but it will have to be done. She still harbours hopes of a glittering marriage for me. I’ll leave for Corbridge in the morning.’

      ‘The scandal hounds will follow you. Putney will ensure it. Running will only encourage them.’

      She put a hand out to steady herself. ‘This is positively the last time I assist in anyone’s elopement. The consequences are far too grave.’

      ‘Listen to me, Miss Ravel, before you panic utterly.’

      ‘I never panic.’ she shouted. ‘This is my life you have ruined. All you have to do is leave this room. No one has any expectations of you.’

      He raised an eyebrow and her cheeks infused with colour. He quickly calculated the odds and knew the risk was worth taking. He would have done everything possible and he could leave her with a clear conscience. He would also have fulfilled the vow that he made at Mary’s graveside. Putney would never use him to ruin another woman. ‘I have expectations of my behaviour. It is my expectations which are important here, not someone else’s.’

      ‘What do you suggest?’ she whispered, clasping her hands together so tightly the knuckles shone white.

      ‘It is nothing that either of us wanted, but I can see no other practical solution, one which allows us both some measure of honour.’ He went down on one knee. ‘Will you marry me, Sophie Ravel?’

      Sophie stared at Lord Bingfield in astonishment. He had gone down on one knee with one hand clasped to his breast and was looking up at her with an intent expression.

      Her mouth went dry. It was a proper proposal. He was truly proposing. Lord Bingfield, despite his scandalous reputation and his vowed intent never to marry, was doing the decent thing and properly proposing marriage. Her stepmother’s drawing room filled with its waxen fruit, china dogs and vases full of wax flowers had a distinct air of unreality.

      ‘You are silent for once, Miss Ravel. Have you been struck dumb?’

      Her shoulders relaxed slightly. She refused to believe in fairy tales or instant love. He was doing this for his own purposes

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