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have hopes of remedying that. Indeed, I thought perhaps I might call on you now that you are recovered—unless of course you fear my doing so might displease your …” He paused to make his meaning clear without saying it. “And if ’tis impossible to meet there, I’d take you for a turn around the park, where none need know of it but ourselves.”
    â€œI do not think—”
    â€œIf not today, then perhaps tomorrow—or Saturday even. I pray you will not be hasty until you hear my offer.”
    She had not the least notion of his meaning, but she knew full well that gentlemen did not offer to take ladies up without paying calls on them first. And she could not quite forget the positively brazen way he’d looked at her earlier.
    â€œI am sorry, my lord, but—”
    â€œLook, I do not know what arrangement you have with your current protector, but—”
    â€œLord Lyndon, I believe you must be mistaken,” she cut in coldly as she caught his meaning. “I have no wish to further this acquaintance. Good day, sir.”
    She’d spoken so abruptly that he wasn’t certain he’d made himself quite plain. The chit had rejected him before he could even make the offer! Moreover, she’d wasted no words in dismissing him in no uncertain terms. Surprised, he snapped, “Perhaps ’tis you who are mistaken, Miss Cole. I am interested in making you a generous offer, and, unlike your current protector, I would not be averse to showing you about—taking you to the opera, theater, that sort of thing. A woman of your looks should not be hidden away. You are meant to be admired, my dear.”
    Mistaking her outraged silence for consideration of his offer, he moved closer and reached for her hand. She flushed to the roots of her hair when he touched her, and jerked away angrily. Beside her, her abigail gasped at his effrontery.
    â€œAre you offering me carte blanche, my lord?” Leah Cole demanded awfully. “For if you are, you have entirely exceeded the bounds of decency!” Biting off each word and spitting it at him, she concluded with cold fury, “Let me make myself quite plain, sir—I neither wish for nor welcome your protection. So you see, you have quite wasted your time waiting for me when it could have been spent searching the gutters. Come on, Annie.”
    Angered by the finality in her voice, Tony grasped her arm. “On your high ropes, eh, Miss Cole? Do you think I cannot tell what you are? And do not be trying to pass yourself off as Quality, for it won’t fadge! This is Tony Barsett—I have seen your kind before. Now, let us be reasonable—”
    â€œReasonable? Listen to me, you insufferable oaf! I was prepared to assume you merely offensive, but now I think you are escaped from Bedlam!”
    â€œHow much do you want?”
    â€œAnd you are obtuse in the extreme! If you do not unhand me this instant, Lord Lyndon, I will set up such a screech that you’ll regret it. I do not know what sort of loose screw you are, but you are definitely empty in the cockloft!”
    â€œComing it too strong, Miss Cole!” he snapped. “I am making you a reasonable offer—what will it take to get you?”
    â€œDo you understand plain speaking, sir?” she demanded angrily. “I am not a Cyprian but a Cit!”
    â€œMr. Parkins! Mr. Parkins!” The woman Annie ran back into Hookham’s for help while a small crowd of interested bystanders gathered. Two coachmen jumped down from Leah’s carriage and advanced on Tony. Feeling the fool, he dropped his hand and stepped back, trying to regain his lost dignity. “Your pardon then. I have obviously mistaken the matter.”
    â€œObviously.” She looked down to where he’d held her arm, and her voice grew even colder. “I am a Cit,” she repeated, “and a proud one at that. For the last time, good