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“I’m going to stay and make certain that Miss Varya is set to rights.”
    The young earl raised a dubious brow. “Of course. I shall see you tomorrow, then. Good luck.”
    His meaning was obvious, Varya realized angrily. Many of her male admirers visited in hopes that she would take one of them as her lover. She’d heard theyeven made wagers over her at their clubs. She wondered how much money Lord Carnover had already won at her expense.
    “Good evening, Lord Carnover,” she called coolly.
    He met her gaze with no hint of mockery whatsoever. “And to you as well, Miss Varya.” He bowed smartly, placed his hat on his fair head, and strode from the room.
    With a sigh Varya briefly closed her eyes and leaned back against the chaise.
    “How much do you have riding on your charm and good looks, my lord?”
    Silence met her question. Looking up, she found the marquess watching her with a curious expression on his face. A half smile curved his lips, as though he had read her thoughts and found them terribly amusing.
    With more hauteur than she felt, she stared imperiously down her nose at him. “If you are going to have me arrested, my lord, please do so quickly. I am very tired.”
    Meanwhile, her heart hammered furiously in her chest. If he turned her over to the authorities, they would certainly discover who she was. Then they would send her back to Russia. Back to the monster waiting there.
    “I’m not certain what I’m going to do with you.” Propping his elbow against the back of the chaise, he pinned her to the cushions without even touching her. “However, I can assure you that I’m not going to have you arrested—not yet.”
    Uneasiness began to churn in her stomach. If hewasn’t going to have her carted away to Newgate, what was he going to do?
    “Then why are you still here?” she demanded. She glanced toward the door to make certain Piotr was there in case she needed him.
    The marquess followed her gaze, and one corner of his mouth quirked as he turned back to her. Leaning closer, he brought his face down to hers. She could feel his breath against her cheek, smell the spicy sweetness of his skin.
    “Why do you think?”
    Varya’s cheeks—and other parts of her anatomy—flamed as his voice slid over her like silk. Surely he didn’t mean…not after all she had said and done to him!
    His harsh laugh as he straightened was like a bucket of ice water in her face. Of course he didn’t want her. He hated her. And she him.
    “At the risk of offending your delicate sensibilities, Miss Varya, I must assure you that I have no desire to force myself upon you. My last encounter of a physical nature with you is still rather—fresh.” His fingers went to the bruise on his temple.
    Shamed that he had read her thoughts, Varya clenched her jaw. “I too remember our last meeting, my lord.” Deftly she removed her glove and unbuttoned the cuff of her sleeve. She pushed the delicate silk up her arm, revealing to his gaze a large yellow and purple bruise followed by a similarly colored—and rather large—handprint.
    He winced at the sight of his handiwork, but thegaze that met hers was devoid of any regret. “You were waving a pistol in my face, madam. I believed you were trying to kill me.”
    “I was simply trying to escape.” It was true. She didn’t believe for a minute that she could have actually pulled the trigger—no matter how much she wanted to avenge Bella’s death.
    “A fine job you did of it too. It was morning before I awoke.”
    She lowered her sleeve and concentrated on buttoning the cuff in an effort to keep her voice steady. “If you are looking for an apology, I cannot give you one. More than I regret hurting you, I regret allowing you to hurt me.” Lifting her chin, she bit the inside of her lip to keep it from quivering.
    He nodded in concession. “Then it appears that we are even on one account.”
    She raised a brow. “And the other?”
    He stood. “On that account, we are