Angry contempt burst in her breast for the lot of them. Not one of them ever did an honest day’s work as Jason did. They were silly, shallow, overdressed manikins who relished hearing Jason criticized for the obvious reason that he was far wealthier than they, and far more desired by the ladies, despite his reputation.

Her bright, flirtatious smile was belied by the dangerous sparkle in Victoria’s eyes as she said, “Why, Mr. Warren, are you afraid for my well-being?”

“Yes, my lady, and I am not the only one.”

“How utterly absurd!” Victoria scoffed. “If you’re interested in truth, rather than foolish gossip, I shall tell it to you. The truth is I came here, alone in the world, without close family or any fortune, a virtual dependent upon his grace and Lord Fielding. Now,” she continued with a fixed smile, “I want you to look at me very closely.”

Genuine mirth bubbled in her as the foolish young man put his quizzing glass to his eye, following her instructions to the letter. “Do I look misused?” Victoria demanded impatiently. “Have I been murdered in my bed? No, sir, I have not! Instead, Lord Fielding has given me the comfort of his beautiful home and offered me the protection of his name. In all honesty, Mr. Warren, I believe many women in London secretly long to be ‘misused’ in just such a way and, from what I have observed, by exactly that man. Furthermore, I believe it is jealousy of him that gives birth to all this ridiculous gossip.”

Mr. Warren flushed, and Victoria turned to the others and added flamboyantly, “If you knew Lord Fielding as I know him, you would discover that he is the very soul of kindness, consideration, refinement, and—and amiability!” she finished.

Behind her, Jason’s laughter-tinged voice said, “My lady, in your attempt to whitewash my black reputation, you are making me sound like a dead bore, instead.”

Victoria whirled around, her embarrassed gaze flying to his. “However,” he continued with a brief smile, “I will forgive you for it, if you will honor me with a dance?” Victoria placed her hand upon his proffered arm and walked into the crowded house beside him.

The sense of proud, triumphant elation she felt for having got up the courage to speak out on Jason’s behalf began to fade when he silently took her in his arms on the crowded dance floor. She still knew very little about him, but she had learned from her own experience whenever she vainly tried to coax him into talking about himself that Jason valued his privacy. Uneasily, she wondered if he was annoyed with her for discussing him with others. When he continued to dance with her in silence, she glanced uncertainly into his thoughtful, heavy-lidded eyes. “Are you angry with me?” she asked. “For discussing you in public, I mean?”

“Was it me you were discussing?” he countered with lifted brows. “I couldn’t tell from the description you were giving. Since when am I kind, considerate, refined, and amiable?”

“You’re angry,” Victoria concluded on a sigh.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest and his arms tightened, drawing her close to his lean, muscular body. “I’m not angry,” he said in a husky, gentle voice. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” she echoed in surprise, studying the melting warmth in his jade eyes. “Why?”

“For a man of my age, height, and wicked reputation, it’s a little embarrassing to have a tiny young woman trying to defend me against the world.”

Mesmerized by the tenderness in his eyes, Victoria fought the absurd impulse to lay her cheek against his claret velvet jacket.

Word spread of Victoria’s public defense of Lord Fielding, whom she apparently admired but did not quite wish to wed, and the ton concluded that a marriage date might be imminent after all—a possibility that so distressed Victoria’s other suitors that they redoubled their efforts to please her. They vied with each other for her attention, they argued amongst themselves over her, and, in the end, Lord Crowley and Lord Wiltshire dueled over her.

“She don’t want either of us,” young Lord Crowley angrily informed Lord Wiltshire late one afternoon as they rode away from the mansion on Upper Brook Street after a brief, unsatisfactory visit with Victoria.

“Yes, she does,” Lord Wiltshire argued heatedly. “She’s shown me a particular partiality!”

“You jackanapes! She thinks we’re dandified Englishmen, and she don’t like Englishmen,” he said sulkily. “She prefers colonial bumpkins! She ain’t as sweet as you think, she’s laughing at us behind her hand—”

“That’s a lie!” his hot-blooded friend retorted.

“Are you calling me a liar, Wiltshire?” Crowley demanded furiously.

“No,” Wiltshire replied between clenched teeth, “I am calling you out.”

“Fine,” Crowley returned. “Tomorrow at dawn at my place. In the grove.” Wheeling his horse around, he galloped off toward his club, whence news of his forthcoming duel spread until it finally reached the exclusive gentlemen’s gaming establishment where Marquis de Salle and Baron Arnoff were rolling dice for very high stakes. “Damned young fools,” de Salle remarked with an irritated sigh when informed of the planned duel. “Lady Victoria will be deeply distressed when she learns of this.”

Baron Arnoff chuckled. “Neither Crowley nor Wiltshire can shoot straight enough to do any damage. I witnessed their lack of skill myself when a group of us were hunting at Wiltshire’s seat in Devon.”

“Perhaps I ought to try to put a stop to it,” the Marquis said.

Baron Arnoff shook his head, looking amused. “I do not see why you should. The worst that can happen is that one of them will succeed in shooting the other’s horse.”

“I was considering Lady Victoria’s reputation. A duel fought over her will not do it any good.”

“Excellent,” Arnoff chuckled. “If she is less popular, I will have a better chance with her.”

Several hours later, at another table, Robert Collingwood heard the news of the duel, but he did not take it so lightly. Excusing himself from the company of his friends, he left the club and went to the Duke of Atherton’s London residence, where Jason had been staying. After waiting nearly an hour for Jason to return, Robert coerced the sleepy butler into awakening Jason’s valet. As a result of much urging and persuasion, the valet reluctantly imparted the intelligence that his master had returned earlier from escorting Lady Victoria to a rout, and had then gone to visit a certain female at #21 in Williams Street.