"Oh!" she said, completely nonplussed. To put the crowning touch on her discomfiture, a rosy blush swept to her hairline.

The stranger grinned down at her. His teeth were white and faintly uneven, and a piratical mustache slashed the swarthy face above them. His hair, secured in a tail at the nape, was black and thick and softly curling. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dazzlingly handsome despite the maddening grin. He was dressed for travel in a dun-colored, many-caped riding coat that hung open over a pristine white shirt with an elegantly tied cravat and snug buff breeches. From the riding crop in the hand that was not occupied in holding hers, she surmised that he had just arrived, and had been on his way to the house from the stables when he had witnessed her humiliation.

"You there! Unhand that lady! Unhand her, I say!" Mr. Calvert, having found his own feet and rushed by way of the steps to assist Lilah, was clearly miffed to find himself no longer needed. He came around the corner in an anxious rush, only to stop short, staring, before coming on again, bristling with protective zeal. Hercules, apparently emboldened by Mr. Calvert's advent, let loose with another volley of yaps and made a darting rush at the stranger's dusty boot, only to abandon the attack a good two feet short of its target.