Rescued By The Earl's Vows. Ann Lethbridge

The relief was out of all proportion to the information imparted. ‘What happened to him?’

      ‘He went away.’ She waved vaguely into the dark.

      Why the hell did he have the feeling there was a great deal more to the story? Was this the person she’d wanted him to find?

       Chapter Two

      Why was she telling him all this, Tess wondered. Was it his anonymity causing her to drop her guard? If so, it was bound to be a mistake. Tess glanced over her shoulder. No sign of her cousin. No hope of rescue there. And indeed, it was perfectly acceptable for a man to escort her outside where other couples and groups were sitting at tables surrounded by servants. It was hardly secluded, yet it somehow felt intimate. As if they were completely alone and confidences would be in order.

      How did he do that? Give her the feeling he was trustworthy, when experience had taught her never to trust any man?

      Why, she didn’t even know his name and yet she felt drawn to him. Was it the timbre of his voice? His aura of youth and health, despite the horrible costume?

      Oh heavens, why had she worn the bow and quiver in the mode of a huntress? It was making breathing quite difficult. She slipped one arm out of the strap.

      He was on his feet in a second. ‘Allow me.’

      As he leaned close to ease the confounded thing over her head without disturbing her coiffure, she inhaled a deep breath of his cologne. The scent of sandalwood with another undertone...bergamot, perhaps. It seemed...familiar.

      He placed the bow and quiver on the table between them and resumed his seat.

      She stared into the depths of his hood, but even his eyes were shadowed. ‘Are you sure we haven’t met before?’

      He placed a gloved hand above his heart. ‘I assure you, my lady, we have never been introduced before today.’

      Surely his voice had a familiar ring to it...

      ‘You didn’t tell me what made you choose Artemis?’ The smile in his voice made her imagine a flash of white teeth in a handsome face. Oh, really? He was probably ancient, with a horrid moustache and a bald spot.

      She sipped the nasty drink. Something hot and wicked coursed through her veins, the desire to shock him out of his nonchalance. Shatter the ease with which he lounged in his chair in complete anonymity. ‘She shoots men.’

      Aha! It wasn’t much of a reaction, a slight shift in his posture, but it was something.

      A ghostly laugh reached her ears. He wasn’t in the least discomposed. He was amused.

      Something to admire about him at least. She grinned. ‘Rakehells beware. My arrow tips are sharp.’ He could take the warning however he pleased.

      He reached for the arrows as if to test her words, then for some reason thought better of it. She frowned at the gloved hand resting on the table, curled inward, the little finger out of alignment.

      ‘Why did you choose Death?’ she asked.

      ‘It is easy to accomplish. A black cloak. A mask. A sickle I left at the door.’

      His answer seemed evasive. Most irritating. She did not play such stupid games. ‘Shall we go back inside?’

      ‘As you wish.’

      Lack of interest coloured his voice. Recognition dawned in a flash. The scent. The little finger. If not the low voice, then its mocking boredom. Oh! Such a cleverly worded denial about not having been introduced before today...

      She leaped up, the chair falling backwards, clattering on the flagstones. ‘You!’

      He was on his feet almost as quickly. ‘Lady Tess.’ His hand grabbed her arm as she staggered, unbalanced. ‘Take care.’

      She wrenched her arm away. ‘What game are you playing, Lord Sandford?’

      ‘My lady. You are mistaken—’

      ‘No. I am not. How did you find me? And more to the point, why bother after you turned down my request?’ Oh, heaven help her, he was going to expose her to her cousin. The wretch.

      ‘I thought to return this.’ He retrieved a small item from the folds of his cloak. The pearl ring she’d sold. ‘A lady should never sell her jewels using her own name if she wants to keep their disappearance a secret.’

      She snatched it out of his hand and forced it on over her glove. ‘A gentleman doesn’t go sneaking around following a lady.’ Oh, no! Now people at the other tables were looking at them. ‘I suppose you plan to tell my guardian?’

      He took her arm. ‘Don’t make a scene, young lady. Think of your reputation.’

      ‘Bah. No one knows who we are and no one cares. It is a masquerade.’

      ‘By morning gossip will abound. Your costume fools no one.’

      ‘Whereas yours is the perfect disguise.’ How like a man to avoid taking any responsibility.

      He held out an arm. ‘Come, let us take a turn about the shrubbery as if that was our intention for getting up all along. I am told it is quite beautiful at night.’

      ‘It is dark. We won’t be able to see a thing.’

      ‘Even better.’

      She swallowed the urge to laugh at his scorn of the poor shrubbery. Tried to hang on to her anger.

      ‘Very well, but I expect an explanation of your behaviour.’ She snatched up her bow and slung it over one shoulder. ‘And don’t even think about trying anything untoward. I did not lie when I said my arrows were sharp.’

      ‘Last thing I need is an arrow in my backside,’ he muttered low in her ear. Not quite the voice she’d heard this morning—this time there was laughter in it. How surprising. And attractive. And intriguing.

      Dash it all, the man was a menace.

      Also surprising were the lanterns all along the garden path. Soon they were out of earshot of the couples on the terrace, but not in the dark and not out of sight if anyone had cared to look for them.

      ‘Well?’ she asked peremptorily.

      ‘Well what?’

      She started to turn back. ‘I see you are still playing games.’

      He held her fast by the crook of her elbow, his hand firm but not painful in its restraint.

      ‘Let me go.’

      ‘It is no game when a respectable young lady comes alone to the chambers of a bachelor.’

      The emphasis on the word game sounded bitter. ‘What are you suggesting, sir?’

      ‘That you took a risk with my reputation as well as your own. I have no intention of being forced into marriage.’

      She gasped. Blood ran hot through her veins. Tension had her shaking. ‘You think I would marry you? I don’t like you, sir. Not one bit. I gave you my reason for coming to see you this morning. You gave me your answer. We have no need for further communication.’

      ‘How can you say you don’t like me? You don’t even know me.’ Again he sounded amused. He was like a cat playing with a mouse. A very large self-satisfied cat.

      ‘You will return me to my cousin at once,’ she said with all the dignity she could muster.

      ‘But what about this person you need found?’

      ‘Do not trouble yourself, my lord. I have made other plans.’

      ‘It would be no trouble to me. Others, however, might take weeks to find your answer. I had the impression your matter was urgent.’

      Oooh,