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“I…don’t think that’s necessary. I don’t have anything with which to measure, anyway.”
    â€œAh.” And now she became the timid virgin once more. “Would you care to go to the music or drawing room, then? Or perhaps the ballroom. You would find that more pleasant, I’m sure.”
    Evelyn stopped so abruptly that Saint had to turn around to face her. For a long moment she glared at him. Women didn’t do that very often, and he had to admire it for that reason. In a moment, though, she would no doubt begin crying, and he detested that.
    â€œLet me make something clear,” she said, her voice quavering a little, as it had when she’d accepted his invitation to waltz. “I am not afraid of seeing something unpleasant. I couldn’t very well do anything helpful for an establishment that didn’t require any assistance. What I don’t want is for this venture to ruin my reputation. Being escorted by you is a risk in itself, but at least in the hallway we have witnesses. Going into a storage room with you would be both stupid and useless on my part.”
    He took a slow step back in her direction. “It might be stupid,” he murmured, “but it wouldn’t be useless. I could teach you a great many things. Isn’t that why you’re here? To learn?”
    Color flooded her cheeks. Saint studied her expression, her stance, the language of her slender, petite body. Despite his experience with women, he wasn’t all that familiar with virgins. He’d made it a point not to be; their clinging hysterics complicated things far too much.
    This one, though, made him curious.
    She turned on her heel. “Good day, my lord.”
    â€œGiving up already?” he asked, forcing himself not to stalk after her. He wasn’t finished with her yet, but neither would he allow her even the momentary advantage an apology would give her. That wasn’t how he played the game.
    â€œI am not giving up. I’ll continue the tour with Mrs. Natham. At least she won’t attempt to seduce me in the broom closet.”
    Apparently she’d heard the rumor about himself and Lady Hampstead. Nearly everyone had. “Continue with me. I promised you a tour, and you shall have one.”
    Evelyn faced him again, the stack of papers she carried clenched so tightly that the edges curled. “A tour of the orphanage, my lord. Not of your…private parts.”
    â€œAgreed—for today.”
    She assessed that statement, then turned to the nearest closed door. “Storage?”
    â€œYes.”
    Disliking the idea that she might yet change her mind and scurry off, Saint kept his distance as she opened thedoor and stepped inside. A moment later she reemerged to scribble further notations in her book. “Are they all the same size?”
    Saint stirred, beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable as she continued to make notes. Good God, an innocent chit asking innocent questions and attending to an innocent task, and he was going hard. “Relatively.”
    â€œExcellent. Shall we continue?”
    So she meant to take him at his word. Another surprise, and with even more agitating results. Part of him thought continuing the tour was useless, since he’d given his word not to seduce her. The other part, though, was practically pointing the way down the hall. “What are you scribbling there?” he asked in an attempt to distract himself, as they continued toward the far end of the hallway.
    â€œNotes.”
    â€œAbout storage room size?”
    â€œI prefer not to say until I present my plan in its entirety, Lord St. Aubyn. I believe you have enough preconceived notions about me without my providing you more.”
    â€œSaint,” he said, ignoring the rest of her commentary.
    She looked up at him, her cheeks still glowing with the attractive half blush from which she seemed perpetually to suffer in his presence. “I beg