To Tame a Dangerous Lord (Courtship Wars 5)

“Well,” Freddie answered, “the thing is … this particular female—I cannot call her a lady—is in possession of several letters I wrote to her some months ago. And my father will have my head on a platter if I don’t get them back. He would never understand how a chap can get seduced by a pretty face, particularly a pretty French face—the old cod’s head,” he muttered in addition.

Miss Ellis sent Freddie a mock look of reproach. “‘Cod’s head’? Surely you do not mean to label your father that disrespectful way?”

Freddie frowned, then narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh, I say, you are not one of those managing females, are you, Miss Ellis?”

A warm laugh bubbled past her throat. “My brother would say I am—chiefly because it fell to me to run our affairs for many years. If it is any consolation, I can sympathize with your plight, Mr. Lunsford. Gerard is always getting into such scrapes himself … and I have often been able to extricate him.”

Freddie turned to Rayne. “By jove, I like her!”

“I like you too, sir,” Miss Ellis said good-naturedly. “And I am eager to aid you any way I can.”

His face lit up. “I am desperate enough to take any help I can get—”

Rayne intervened again, not wanting to involve her in any shady dealings with a blackmailing French widow. “Your aid won’t be necessary, Miss Ellis.”

His firm tone sent her eyebrow arching upward. “You mean to say that I should not put my nose where it does not belong?”

Rayne’s mouth curved. “Your acumen is admirable.”

“Very well, but if you change your mind….”

He wouldn’t change his mind, Rayne knew, but he was struck by Madeline Ellis’s keen intelligence. Freddie had said very little last evening about his circumstances, but she had deduced his predicament with little effort. Some of Rayne’s best female agents had possessed her same alert powers of observation. And yet she seemed to be motivated by simple kindness with her offer of help.

Freddie apparently thought she deserved a less harsh rebuff, however, for he hastened to add, “Thank you, Miss Ellis, but Haviland is no doubt correct. He can manage exceedingly well on his own. I have great faith in his abilities to save me from my folly. It is why I turned to him in the first place.”

Her lively gaze shifted to survey Rayne. “Lord Haviland seems to make quite a habit of saving people. I suppose that explains why he was so determined to come to my aid last evening?”

“Oh, yes,” Freddie answered. “He has been known to rescue any manner of waifs and strays. He cannot help being a hero.”

“Is that so?” Her luminous gray eyes were dancing. “How fascinating.”

It was clear to Rayne that Madeline and Freddie were finding pleasure in ribbing him.

“Indeed,” Freddie continued. “I have always thought Rayne was born in the wrong century. He would have made an admirable knight at King Arthur’s Round Table.”

“I can imagine him riding on a white charger,” she agreed.

Rayne couldn’t dispute his cousin’s contention. From the time he was a small boy, he’d always been committed to righting wrongs, to defending the weak and vulnerable. He couldn’t bear to see injustice and do nothing about it. Doubtless that was what left him so restless now. He was searching for a new mission in life,

of course, but thus far he’d found nothing remotely satisfying to occupy his time or talents.

“Yet his derring-do is not all pretense,” Freddie declared in an evident attempt at fairness. “He has risked his life countless times over.”

Miss Ellis immediately sobered and shot Rayne a rueful look. “So I understand. I should not have made game of you, my lord.”

He preferred her laughing at him than looking contrite. “I am hardly a saint.”

“I never imagined you were. But still you are to be commended, not ridiculed.”

“Pray, remember that the next time you want to take issue with my lack of manners. Now, eat your breakfast, Miss Ellis. Your eggs are growing cold.”

His command was a deliberate provocation on his part, and he received the desired response. Her gray eyes sparked before glimmering with humor once more.

“Yes, my lord,” she murmured meekly—and then surprisingly did as she was bid.

Her submissiveness was an act that hid her true nature, Rayne knew as he applied himself to his own breakfast. Madeline Ellis was impertinent and tart-tongued and fearless when it came to knowing her place in the ton’s social order. And yet he had to admit her lively spirit appealed to him.

Indeed, he found a number of things appealing about Madeline. Her eyes were even lovelier in the morning light, clear and deep and lustrous. And her mouth … Rayne found himself watching that sinful mouth as she bit down on a crumpet.