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that stirred his blood and made him think of warm beds and sweet, passion-filled moans.
    But he would not let himself be attracted to her. He would treat her as he would a sister, even though he had no family. He would ignore the way her body spoke tohim. He would ignore the loneliness he heard in her voice. And above all, he would squash this ridiculous admiration he felt for her reckless courage.
    “Which means we have to break the news to my aunt.”
    She was nothing but a young girl. She had her whole life ahead of her, while he had only twenty-four days.
    “And we should probably leave on the morrow in the event the countess connects our break-in to Tom.”
    The mention of the boy’s name caught his attention. He halted. So did she. Years of adjusting his eyes to darkness allowed him to see her almost perfectly. Even in moonlight, he noted, her hair sparkled, a soft breeze causing it to shimmer like the gold braid of a uniform. He hadn’t wanted to be nice to her, he admitted. But it wasn’t her fault that fate had played such a cruel trick on him.
    It wasn’t her fault at all.
    Garrick prided himself on being honest, and he was honest enough to admit he’d been a heel.
    “Do you think that’s a good plan?” she asked in a soft, little voice.
    He had no idea what plan she was asking about, but there was a tentativeness to her voice, almost as if she expected him to yell at her. Ridiculous, he thought. He didn’t yell at young girls. And she was young. Too young for him.
    “We can take my aunt’s coach,” she added.
    “Take your aunt’s coach where?”
    “London.”
    It took a moment for the words to penetrate. Just a moment.
“London!”
he roared.
    She flinched. Actually flinched. And, hell, there was that look of hurt he’d begun to dread. She tilted her chin up, just as she had earlier when she’d wanted to say a prayer for that damn horse.
    “Yes, London.”
    She held tight against his anger. He had to admire that about her. She was like a starfish, holding steady no matter how rough the seas.
    “Well?” she asked, arching a red brow.
    “I cannot take you to London.”
    “Why not?”
    And there was that grim pride he’d seen before. “Because.”
    “Because why?”
    Because she wasn’t a girl, she was a woman, and he damn well knew it. Because he didn’t want to think about being alone with her for six hours while they traveled to London. But mostly because he didn’t trust himself.
    Bloody hell.
    “Garrick?”
    He turned away from her. “It’s out of the question.”
    He took a step and nearly fell when he stepped into a carriage rut. Only years of experience standing aboard a lurching ship enabled him to remain on his feet.
    “Is it because you don’t want to be with me?”
    He stopped, faced her once again. She probably didn’t intend to ask the question in a self-pitying way. No. After the way he’d treated her, and his surly attitude, she probably meant it as a genuine question.
    “No,” he growled. “I refuse to take you because it will be too dangerous.”
    If he hadn’t been looking for it, he wouldn’t have seen the relief that sailed through her eyes. But there it was. Suddenly, unaccountably, he wanted to comfort her more. She had a heart to match her courage, he realized, a heart a man could wait a whole lifetime to find. He turned away, only to pivot right back on his heel again. Almost of its own volition, his hand rose up to stroke her jaw.
    Green eyes widened, then softened.
    “Stay with your aunt, Lucy. It will be much safer. The boy and I will go to London.” In London, he could keep an close eye on him and forget all about a red-haired sprite with emerald eyes.
    She leaned her head into his palm.
    Don’t,
he tried to tell her with his eyes,
don’t like me. Because if you do, hellion, you will lose your heart, as surely as I will lose mine, and my soul.
    He stiffened, stunned by the realization.
    “Garrick, what’s wrong?”
    It wasn’t rational.