Scandal Becomes Her. Shirlee Busbee

that I shall be perfectly safe.”

      “Will you?” he asked, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “Will you, indeed? Shall I show you precisely how dangerous your position is?”

      Her eyes widened as he reached for her. She leaped backward, but that blasted leg of hers buckled as his hands closed round her shoulders. She fell, dragging him to the floor with her.

      They landed in a heap, Julian on top of her. His warm weight crushed her to the floor and, panicked, Nell struck him. “Let me go!” she gasped. “You are no gentleman to treat me so! My father will have your hide if you dare touch me.”

      Julian smiled down at her, the feel of her slender body beneath him the most delicious sensation he had ever experienced. Rape, however, had never appealed to him and two things were apparent: she was an innocent and wanted none of him. But that mouth was an overwhelming temptation and he coaxed, “One kiss, poppet. Just one.”

      “Never! Let me go you beast!” Nell put a great deal of outrage in her voice. It was difficult. This stranger, felon or highwayman, was the most devastatingly appealing man she had ever met, but pride alone, and a strong dose of common sense, demanded that she extricate herself from this invidious situation immediately. Sharply she said, “I insist that you let me go. Now.”

      “I would, if I were you,” said Sir Edward, from behind him, “do as the lady requests. Otherwise, I shall be compelled to shoot you in the back—like the piece of offal you are.”

      “And if he were to miss,” drawled Robert, at his father’s side, “I should not. If you wish to live, unhand her this instant.”

      Chapter 4

      Julian had been in hazardous positions before, but none that had left him feeling so silly. He rolled off the young woman on the floor and onto his back, considering and discarding hasty plans to escape with his life—and possibly his dignity intact. Finding himself facing two narrow-eyed gentlemen, the pistol in the younger man’s hand aimed at his heart, he threw any concerns about dignity to the winds and concentrated on saving his life. He did not recognize the two men who stared so menacingly at him, but he did recognize them as belonging to the gentlemanly class. He sighed. He really would throttle Elizabeth when he finally got his hands on her. If she had not taken it into her mind to run away with her dashing captain, none of this would have happened. Julian was fair—it wasn’t his stepsister’s fault that he had been found rolling around on the floor with a young woman who was obviously not the sort to enjoy a stolen kiss, but it was because of Elizabeth that he was here at all. And if he managed to avoid being shot this morning, he had every intention of letting her know in just what a devil of a fix she had landed him.

      Gazing at the two men before him, he considered using his knife, but he hesitated. The two men probably had good reason for looking so outraged and lethal and he suspected their attitude was brought on by something more than his, uh, friendly tussle with the wench lying next to him. Despite their looks and the pistols, he sensed that he wasn’t about to be shot—at least not at this moment. So who were they and what was their connection to his companion?

      The answer came from the fascinating creature herself. Scrambling awkwardly to her feet, the drag of her left leg very noticeable, she half-stumbled, half-fell into the older man’s arms. A sob broke from her as he clasped her to his bosom. “Oh, Papa!” she cried. “You found me! I so hoped that you would.”

      Julian’s lips twisted. Oh, lud! He had certainly plunged himself into a tangle this time. The fetching little baggage was the gentleman’s daughter. His position became even more invidious—even the most indulgent parent would not look kindly upon finding the daughter of the house lolling about on the floor with an unmarried gentleman. He frowned. Any man, for that matter. But what the devil, he wondered with a frown, had she been doing here alone and garbed in nothing more than a nightgown? It appeared that her lack of proper attire was just another mystery connected to the young woman and, of course, he had always been intrigued by mysteries…

      The two men forgot about Julian as they reassured themselves that the woman was unhurt. Since they were not paying attention to him, he sat up. The younger man, recalled instantly to his presence, flashed him a glance and said, “Do not move, you black-hearted villain! How dare you lay a hand on my sister!”

      Well, that was a relief, Julian thought, he had been a trifle worried that the younger man had been a husband—and husbands, in his opinion, were very unreliable when it came to their wives…especially wives found in the arms of other men.

      The younger man stared at him puzzled. “Do I know you?” he asked. “You look familiar to me—have I seen you before? Perhaps in London?”

      “He says his name is Weston,” said the young woman, turning in her father’s arms to stare at Julian with troubled eyes.

      “Weston!” exclaimed the younger man. “Are you related to Wyndham?”

      Julian smiled wryly. “Despite my less than sartorial elegance at the moment and the pressing need for a bath and a barber, I am indeed related to Wyndham. I am Wyndham.”

      “Never say so!” exclaimed the older man. He studied Julian’s face and despite Julian’s unshaven cheeks and rumpled clothing and his resemblance more to a dangerous brigand than to the elegant Earl of Wyndham, Sir Edward realized he spoke the truth. “Yes, I recognize you now,” Sir Edward said. “You have been pointed out to me. I have seen you about London.” He looked bewildered, but politeness took over. Putting away his pistol, he motioned for Julian to rise and said stiffly, “I am Sir Edward Anslowe. This is my son, Robert, and my daughter, Miss Eleanor Anslowe.”

      Julian rose to his feet and bowed. “My pleasure—although I could have wished to meet you under more pleasant circumstances.”

      Frowning, Sir Edward looked from his daughter to Julian. “I do not understand any of this,” he began slowly, “but what in blazes, man, was your reason for snatching my daughter from her very bed last night? Was it some infamous wager you made? I cannot believe that a gentleman of your stature would act so dishonorably and seek simply to ruin her.” Looking even angrier and confused, he demanded, “If you fancied her, why did you not approach me? We are not as wealthy and powerful as your family, but our name is a proud one and my daughter is an heiress in her own right—surely you must have known that I would have approved your courtship.”

      Nell gasped and glanced horrified up at her father. “Papa, I have never laid eyes on the man before this morning! And he is not the person who t-t-took me away last night—that vile creature was Tynedale.”

      Julian stiffened. “What does Tynedale have to do with this affair?”

      “I think a better question,” said Robert, as he put away his pistol, “would be what do you have to do with Nell’s abduction?”

      Leaning his hips against the table, Julian crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I had nothing to do with, er, Nell’s abduction. It is an unfortunate set of events that has brought us together.” He glanced at Sir Edward. “My presence here is by accident—my horse bolted during the storm last night and left afoot I remembered this place and sought refuge. I had no idea that anyone else was here.”

      Sir Edward cast an uneasy look down at Nell. “If it was Tynedale who snatched you last night, how is it that we found you alone this morning with Lord Wyndham? And in a most compromising position?”

      Forgetful for the moment of his own precarious position, Julian watched the volatile emotions that rushed across Miss Anslowe’s face. She shot Julian a burning look. “It is not my fault that you found us in such an awkward situation!”

      Julian smiled sunnily at her, thinking that she really was a taking little thing with those fairy features and tumbled tawny hair. Which was just as well, he decided dryly, since he had a very strong notion where this was going. He sighed. He had sworn never to marry again, but fate seemed to have other ideas. At the moment, he didn’t see any honorable way out of the circumstances except marriage. And there was the mention of Tynedale. He was not a stupid man