Panicking, she shoved violently at his chest, knocking him off balance. He clutched at her to save himself from falling, and succeeded in dragging her to the floor with him. They ended sprawled across the doorsill with then-heads in the hall, Harford on top. As Kit gasped for breath, he pulled at her bodice, ripping it halfway to her waist. "Much nicer than I expected," he said huskily. "Maybe I'll make that five guineas."

She had feared many things of this night, but casual rape by a man who didn't even know her name was not one of them. Terrified, she tried to scream, but her cry was cut off by his mouth.

Suddenly, his imprisoning weight was gone and she could breathe again. Above her a cool voice said, "The young lady doesn't seem interested, Harford."

Kit looked up to see a tall, blond man pinning her attacker to the wall. Though the elegant newcomer seemed to be exerting no pressure, Harford was unable to break free.

"Mind your own business," Harford panted as he tried unsuccessfully to free himself from the blond man's grip. "She's a chambermaid, not a lady. I've never yet met a maid who wasn't flattered when a gentleman wanted to mount her."

"I think you've met one tonight. It would be one thing if she was willing, but it's bad form to rape your host's servants," the cool voice said with gentle reproof. "Candover would be most upset if you succeeded, and you know what a good shot he is."

The words penetrated Harford's drink-sodden brain. "I suppose you're right," he said grudgingly. "A scrawny maid is hardly worth fighting a duel over." The blond man released him, and he shuffled into his room with a yawn. " 'Night, Strathmore."

Kit stiffened. Dear God, her rescuer was Lucien Fairchild, the Earl of Strathmore. A man called, in whispers and after a wary glance in all directions, Lucifer. He and several of his rakish friends were collectively known as the Fallen Angels. She had not known that he was a Hellion.