A Reckless Promise. Kasey Michaels

understandable. John was injured in the camp, shortly before the Russians found it and freed their men and the British who were there. What you might know as being belly shot. He—” Sadie hesitated, as the wound to her heart was still raw “—never fully recovered, and this past summer—the heat, you understand—was a torture to him. We both knew it was only a matter of time. His passing was a blessing in many ways.”

      “You’re saying he as good as died in that camp. Again, I’m sincerely sorry, Mrs. Boxer. I tried to convince him to leave with us, but he wouldn’t desert his patients. Your brother died a hero, and I can do no less than stand by my promise to him.”

      Sadie’s shoulders finally relaxed. One hurdle passed over safely. Marley would have a home.

      “He said you were an honorable man, that you all were brave and honorable gentlemen. Thank you. I know Marley will be safe with you.”

      The viscount pushed himself away from the desk. “Safe, Mrs. Boxer? That seems an odd choice of word.”

      Wickedly intelligent. I shouldn’t forget that, must never fully relax my guard.

      “John left little money, and owned no property. Everything he had came courtesy of our village, and hopefully there will be a new physician installed within a few months. It was only because I could manage the surgery on his behalf while he was away, and yes, after he returned, that we weren’t put out on the street months ago.”

      “Really? It would appear you are a woman of hidden talents. How fortunate for the villagers.”

      Was he mocking her? Applauding her? Doubting her? His tone, his smile, could be interpreted many ways.

      “One does what one must, especially with so many doctors and surgeons gone to war, but I am no physician. Once John truly was gone, a more suitable replacement was in order. Marley is homeless, near-penniless and alone save for me. In today’s world, would you call that safe, my lord?”

      There, that should satisfy him!

      He rubbed at his forehead. “I seem to go from bad to worse with you, Mrs. Boxer, so I might as well push on. Where is your husband? May I assume he also is deceased?”

      Or did he run, screaming, into the night, to be shed of you? He didn’t say that, but Sadie was fairly certain he was thinking it.

      But she’d prepared herself for this question. “You’re correct to believe I am without a husband, my lord. Maxwell has been gone for more than two years now.”

      So much truth, taken separately. It was only when the two were put together that her words could be seen as a whopping great lie.

      The viscount appeared to consider those words for long moments, as if repeating them in his mind. He then walked around the desk, to stand, his back turned to her, before the impressive expanse of windows that looked out over the rear of the estate.

      “My condolences on your loss. But back to my new ward. I was raised here at the cottage after my parents died,” he said quietly, so that Sadie sat forward on the couch in order to hear him. “She and I have something in common, as I imagine I was about her same age at the time. Eventually I went off to school, spending all my holidays here with the Camfords until I reached my majority. Your niece will be in good hands with them, unless you believe I turned out badly.”

      There. It was settled, and out of his own mouth. But could she relax now? She doubted it, for she was still in the room, and what on earth had he planned for her? Truly, he couldn’t have planned for her at all, could he? The inconvenient aunt.

      “Thank you. I am sure I’m not prepared to make any conclusions on such short acquaintance, my lord, and have placed my full reliance on John’s opinion.”

      He turned away from the window. “A careful answer, Mrs. Boxer. Shall we return to you? Do you plan to remain here with your niece?”

      And here it was, with her knowing she was still totally unprepared for the question.

      “Have I been invited?”

      “No, I don’t believe you have. You do realize you’ve put me in an awkward situation. You’re obviously too old to become my ward, yet you’re too young and, yes, too attractive to remain here as my guest without tongues wagging all over Mayfair. Not that I’ve ever been opposed to that, but there is your reputation to be considered. Therefore, if you’re agreeable, I believe I shall have to employ you in some fashion. Which do you prefer? Governess? Companion? Tutor?”

      He was going to let her stay with Marley. Not that he had much choice, so she couldn’t consider his offer a win on her side of the invisible tote board that had apparently been set up somewhere in the room.

      She straightened her posture to the point that her spine protested. “Companion, I would think, seeing that I am her aunt. The position includes a wage, I presume?”

      His smile took her quite by surprise, and seemed to serve to remove the tension both in his face and in the room itself.

      “You move quickly, Mrs. Boxer. Do you have a figure in mind?”

      “I wouldn’t presume to—”

      “Of course you wouldn’t.”

      Now he was definitely being condescending. He had a burr under his saddle, most definitely, but Sadie still wasn’t certain what it was. It almost seemed as if her very existence bothered him.

      “I have to rethink this business of companion. Not quite right, I believe, or believable, for that matter. Never mind, I’ll think of something.”

      “I’ll await that decision, then, my lord, grateful that you’ll allow me to remain with my niece.”

      “So happy to ease your mind, Mrs. Boxer. And now, unless you have more to share with me, beyond my painfully acquired knowledge that my ward has a predilection for violence, I believe you may retire for the nonce. If my ward has been suitably instructed in her table manners, you and she can begin taking meals in the small dining room. I can remember refusing to be constrained to the nursery for my meals by the time I was her age. However, alas, I am committed elsewhere this evening, and will be departing for London within the hour, to return tomorrow. Or perhaps next week.”

      Sadie leaped to her feet, speaking before she could think better of it. “You won’t be here? Oh, no, that won’t do, my lord. Marley is your ward. She remains with you. I must insist.”

      Could she have been more clumsy?

      The viscount, his hands behind his back, walked up to her, stopping much too close to her, and looked into her eyes. “You must insist? And why is that, Mrs. Boxer?”

      Sadie scrambled for an explanation that would seem reasonable. “She, um, Marley has just lost her father. She...she needs to know someone still cares about her.”

      “Other than yourself?”

      “Yes! Yes, that’s it. A...a male presence.”

      “A male presence,” he repeated, and the words sounded no more convincing when he said them. “I see. And a male presence would make her feel—what was the word? Oh, yes—safe. Mrs. Boxer, forgive me, but a thought occurs. Could you have perhaps kidnapped your niece?”

      That question came close enough to the target to be uncomfortable.

      “Of course not! Why would I do any such thing?”

      “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps to find yourself a deeper gravy boat than the one you might be offered—if any—by John’s other relatives?”

      “I thought I’d told you. I am Marley’s only living relative.”

      “And that would be her only living relative on John’s side. Is the child as unfortunately lacking in family on her late mother’s side?” He leaned in even closer. “Mrs. Boxer? Cat caught your tongue?”

      Everything now rested on her answer. Marley’s future, and her own. And the