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who,” he said.

Chapter Three
     
    He was late.
    Iona moved deeper into the shadows, keeping to the far corner of the grand portico fronting the entrance of the Lower Assembly Rooms. She tapped the glass of her dainty pocket watch. Six minutes after eleven.
    A couple of the lower gentry were leaving the dress ball early. Their laughter tinkled through the cool night air. Iona pressed her back against the marble wall, worried someone might notice her. She’d slipped away from her family a few minutes before eleven o’clock, thinking she’d be able to return before the night’s final dance at midnight. If Lord Nathan delayed much longer, he wouldn’t have enough time to teach her much of anything.
    Visions of him shamelessly enjoying a liaison with another woman sprang to her all-too-vivid imagination. She kicked the tip of her pink satin slipper against the pavement.
    The rogue. If he didn’t intend to come, he could at least have had the decency to send a note.
    Did he care so little for her good name? What if she were discovered lurking in the shadows without a proper escort? Eyebrows would be raised. People would whisper behind their hands.
    A shadow moved beside her. She caught a distinctive whiff of honey and pine.
    “You are unforgivably late,” she whispered.
    “A thousand pardons, my lady.” He moved closer and draped a dark cloak over her white crepe pelisse. “In this particular instance, I felt discretion was vastly more important than timeliness. Shall we go?”
    He offered her his arm. He’d dressed the part of a dangerous rogue. His clothes were black from head to foot. Even his cravat was fashioned from the darkest muslin. His hat sat low on his head and was tilted forward toward his nose. A person would have to take a long, close look to recognize him.
    Under different circumstances, she’d surely mistake him for a highwayman or a smuggler.
    A thrill of fear surged in her gut. What did she truly know about him? She fingered the heavy cloak he’d laid over her shoulders. The dark color was necessary to serve as a disguise, she supposed.
    “I won’t tease you if you wish to change your mind,” he said, staring down his long aristocratic nose at her. His blue eyes looked as dark and vast as the night sky. “It’s a considerable leap of faith on your part to put your reputation in my hands like this.”
    “My mind is set.” She lowered the cloak’s hood over her head, careful not to disturb the throng of pink daisies threaded through her hair. She placed her hand on his arm. “Please, lead on.”
    A look of mischief danced in his eyes. His lips curled into a thoroughly wicked grin that sent her heart tripping.
    Iona licked her lips. “I have less than an hour before I am missed. I hope that will not be a problem.”
    “This first lesson in debauchery shouldn’t take very long at all, my lady,” Nathan replied. She could have sworn she heard a soft laugh hiding under his curiously formal tone.
    She gripped his arm tightly as he led her in silence through the Bath streets. He kept them cloaked in the darkest shadows near the buildings as they hurried past several familiar faces. She hadn’t realized how many people promenaded the streets after dark. She lowered her head and touched her hand to the brim of the hood. Her heart thundered in her chest.
    This was madness. She would be caught. Her father would glower in silence. Her mother would shriek. And she would forever lose her status as their dear, obedient daughter.
    Cecile, her older sister, was the lucky one, happily married and producing heirs for her husband. Lillian, her younger sister, was the beauty of the family. Stuck in the middle, Iona had forever been relegated to playing the part of the good child, the quiet child and later, the pliable young lady.
    Lord Nathan pressed a finger to her lips as he led her past Abbey Street and toward the King’s Bath. Light reflected from the streetlamps sparkled in his eyes like stars. A