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and a healthy
monthly allowance. A carriage of your own choice will be
given to you as well as a pair of horses for your riding
pleasure. You will want for nothing."
    Phoebe didn't look at him, but concentrated on the
leather rein she twirled in her hands. "How very kind of
you," she said, her voice now a shy whisper, void of its earlier enthusiasm.
    This was going extremely well. The dear girl was overwhelmed with his generosity. She'd probably never
received such a grand proposal before. Stephen couldn't
wait for her to hear all that he offered. "At which time we
choose to part, you keep the house, the staff and everything
you have received during my care. I guarantee you your
allotted income until you marry or find another protector."
    "In return, you would expect me to...?"
    The red-silk-clad image of Phoebe, kneeling at the foot
of his large feather bed, anticipating his arrival, forced a
smile to his lips. He would kiss every inch of her, starting
with the adorable little mole below her right ear. He lowered his voice to a seductive purr. "Be available to me
whenever I wish."
    "I see." Actually Phoebe saw nothing at all but a man
she thought handsome and charming enough to seduce a
stable filled with women, a man who looked overly proud
of himself with his chin lifted and a cocky grin plastered
on his face. Goodness, he both infuriated and intrigued her.
However had he come to the conclusion that she would be
willing to be his mistress? She tapped the toes on her left
foot and twisted the reins into a tight knot about her fingers. "We hardly know one another. What makes you think
such a relationship even possible?"

    "Quite simply, I want you."
    She wasn't quite sure how to respond to that declaration.
He sounded as though that sole reason should be enough to
convince her. The business of mistresses was not completely foreign to Phoebe. Although her father never had,
many plantation owners took slaves as their lovers. Some
went willingly, some didn't. When she was a child, she'd
befriended some of the women on her own estate and
heard them talk. The slaves foolish enough to care for the
men waited like lost puppies, hoping for a scrap of time or
a bauble to prove their worth. Phoebe shuddered to think of
herself reduced to waiting on a man's whim. Good sense
warned her to mount her steed and flee. Curiosity won.
After all, she might never have the same opportunity to ask
the questions she wanted to ask. "Shouldn't one's mistress
require a certain expertise?"
    "One can easily be tutored."
    When his lips curled to one side he looked like a man
confident in his skills. Her stomach fluttered strangely. No
doubt he could tutor a woman on most anything. Pity, she
thought. She needed a husband, not a protector. She looked
him squarely in the eye, pasted her most congenial smile
on her face and said, "Thank you very much for your generous offer, but I decline."
    "I beg your pardon?"
    "What you ask is quite impossible."
    Suddenly he stood beside her, his hands fisted on his
hips. "What game do you play, Phoebe?"
    Straightening her spine, she tried to make herself appear
taller next to his imposing height. "I play no game."
    "Then why the deuce did you give me the impression
you were interested in my proposal?"
    "Is that what I did?"
    "Yes," he snapped.
    In order to satisfy her curiosity, she'd obviously hurt the man's feelings. An apology was out of the question, but in
goodwill after all, she did like the man and hated to see
him upset she decided to explain. Skirting around the
duke, she tied Flash next to Cavalier. "I found the information enlightening. No man ever asked me to be his mistress
before."

    His eyes narrowed to thin slits. "Come now, Phoebe.
You hail from America, where you claim you had unlimited freedom to do whatever you wished. You fraternized
with men on a daily basis, and your evenings, well, who
the devil are Teddy and Timothy? You said your reputation