Vane felt the touch of her gaze, felt the hunter within him rise in response to that artless glance; his wariness returned. "Miss Debbington?"

Looking up, she nodded-Vane almost groaned. Last chance-a spinster, impecunious, and without connections. He could set her up as his mistress.

She must have read his mind; before he could formulate the question, she answered it. "I'm Lady Bellamy's niece."

A crack of thunder all but drowned out her words; under cover of the noise, Vane swore beneath his breath, only just resisting the impulse to direct his ire heavenward. Fate looked at him through clear hazel eyes. Disapproving hazel eyes.

"If you'll come this way"-with a wave, she indicated the nearby door, then haughtily led the way-"I'll have Masters inform my aunt of your arrival."

Having assimmilated the style, and thus the standing, of Minnie's unexpected caller, Patience made no attempt to hide her opinion; dismissive contempt colored her tone. "Is my aunt expecting you?"

"No-but she'll be pleased to see me." Was that subtle reproof she detected in his far-too-suave tones? Swallowing a hoity humph, Patience swept on. She felt his presence, large and intensely masculine, prowling in her wake. Her senses skittered; she clamped a firm hold on them and lifted her chin. "If you'll wait in the parlor-it's the first door on your right-Masters will fetch you when my aunt is ready to receive you. As I mentioned, the household is presently dressing for dinner."

"Indeed."

The word, uttered softly, reached her as she halted before the side door; Patience felt a cool tingle slither down her spine. And felt the touch of his grey gaze on her cheek, on the sensitive skin of her throat. She stiffened, resisting the urge to wriggle. She looked down, determined not to turn and meet his eyes. Jaw firming, she reached for the door handle; he beat her to it.