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fingernails. "I have been managing Lion's Gate since the ah—untimely death of my eldest brother, Edmund, three years ago. The estate is now the property of my brother Charles; unfortunately he has not been able to assume control of his inheritance for he is doing his duty to his country. He is in the army."
    He watched her narrowly. So she was Captain Charles Leonard's sister. He was mildly annoyed he'd not put the connection together sooner. "I know Captain Leonard," he said dryly, reaching for the decanter of port that Maria had left on table.
    Leona's head flew up to look at him. "You do?"
    He smiled thinly. "Yes, and that explains many things." He refilled his glass and set the decanter back on the table, then leaned back in his chair to observe her objectively.
    Her coloring was the same as Charlie Leonard's, but she lacked the female equivalent of his pretty-boy looks. Her coloring was more dramatic, her features stronger. It was her eyes, though, that truly set her apart from her brother. His were the soft brown that women claimed to die for. Hers were a mélange of green, brown, and gold. They reminded Nigel of the forest floor in autumn.
    He remembered Leonard mentioning a sister. It was late one night when a group of officers sat around a scarred wooden trestle table set up outside a Spanish tavern. It was a night for stealing relaxation where one could find it and with whom one could find it. The next few days were hectic, and then there was Salamanca. But that night, in the light of the flickering flambeau, Leonard's face looked taut and dissipated. He crudely joked about his plain spinster sister back in England and what a millstone he expected her to be around his neck his entire life.
    "Captain Leonard was in my regiment in Spain for a time," Deveraux explained slowly. A wry smile lifted the comers of his firm mouth. "I sincerely beg your pardon. I had not realized until now that you were related."
    "Oh." Leona bit her lip, uncertain how to interpret his dry tone. There was an undertone of commiseration there that she neither understood nor liked. She decided to ignore it and continue her explanation. "The villagers have been complaining for months about the tenants at Lion's Gate. Since I let the manor to them, they were my responsibility."
    "Your duty," he clarified, smirking. Charlie Leonard's duty was clearly to himself and, according to gossip, it was the same with Edmund. No doubt a galloping family trait.
    "Yes! My duty!" Leona's chest heaved. She pinned him with her autumn gaze. "I'm sorry, sir, if duty to one's family is not something you hold in high regard. It is something I hold very dear indeed!"
    He threw his head back and laughed richly. "You have not the first inkling of what that word means, Miss Leonard. You play with it as if it were a toy." He studied her critically, his sneer more pronounced. Perhaps he was wrong in believing her an accomplice to kidnapping. Her brother would never have the guts for such a stunt, so it was likely she didn't as well. What Leonard would do was take advantage of any plum that was to fall within his grasp.
    "You're like your precious brother. You like to be important, to be in the thick of things, don't you? You know if you went to London, you would be lost in that glittering metropolis among women richer, more beautiful, and wittier than you. You couldn't stand that, could you? So you stay here gloating at your perceived importance in this backwater village." He tossed off the last of the port and stood up, pacing the room.
    Rage held Leona silent. She fought the violent trembling in her body as she lurched to her feet. "How dare you?" she hissed, stalking him. "How dare you come into my home and cast aspersions upon me and my family? What would you have me do? Ignore a possible crime on my family's property? Would you do so at Castle Marin?"
    He cast her a dismissing glance. "That is different. I am a man." He turned away from her to face the window.
    She