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stood in his night robe holding a lighted candle before him. “My lord, you are awake.”
    “Good God, Marlowe, what is the time?”
    “Midnight, my lord.”
    “Midnight! Why didn’t you wake me?” His roar of outrage sent his valet scurrying around the chamber, lighting a candelabra on the mantel and poking up the fire.
    “I would have done so, my lord, but the Duchess of Worthington forbade me.”
    Knowing just how forceful Tildie could be, Vane was somewhat mollified. He nodded coolly at his quivering manservant. “It’s done, Marlowe. I suppose Her Grace has also been attending the children.”
    His valet’s relief at the return of Vane’s habitual calmness was so enormous, he forgot himself and actually laughed. “Oh, I should say, my lord. The ladies have taken over the sickroom.”
    He should have seen through their demure acquiescence at breakfast, especially Georgina’s uncharacteristic silence. Now, he had no recourse but to accept their help with as much grace as possible.
    “Since the ladies have surely retired, I shall be in charge once again. Carry on as usual, Marlowe.”
    “Oh, but, my lord…”
    “That will be all!” Vane stalked from the room, still in dishabille.
    As they had last night, both children’s doors stood open to the dimly lit hall. Lawrence was sleeping peacefully, his skin cooler to Vane’s touch. He tiptoed into his daughter’s bedchamber and stopped as if he’d walked into an invisible wall.
    Georgina, her rich brown hair tumbling about her shoulders, was curled up in the rocking chair next to the bed. Her eyes were closed, the long dark lashes outlined against the cream of her cheek. He stood for a moment regarding her. Then he realized there was a slight chill in the room, as the fire had burned down to embers.
    The chair rocked her gently toward him as he tucked a quilted coverlet around her. She stirred, the coverlet slipping down to reveal her night robe had parted. The rules of his world dictated that he not awaken her. In truth, he should remove himself at once. But good manners and a sense of gratitude for her care of his children commanded he not allow her to sprawl uncovered in the chair.
    He tried again, kneeling before the chair. As he tucked the coverlet behind her, covering her transparent night rail, his face brushed her soft hair and he felt her sweet breath against his throat.
    His grip was all steel lined with velvet as he eased her back into the depths of the chair, away from his warmth. In sleep, her lips were slightly parted and full. He wondered how they would taste against his own.
    As he watched, her eyes fluttered open and her gaze met his.
    “Forry…” She said his name on a sigh.
    Desire burned hot coals low in his abdomen. Suddenly her sherry-washed eyes were full of awareness, and he knew she too felt the desire pulsing between them. She shivered, and shook her head slowly in denial.
    “Georgina.” Unwisely, he reached out to pull her into his arms, to taste those forbidden lips.
    “Mama, I … Oh!” Sabrina’s soft shriek brought them both to their senses.
    Georgina, holding his eyes, withdrew into the protection of her coverlet. He couldn’t seem to look away either. He jumped to his feet and backed across the room.
    Women had their place in his life, he had just moved his latest mistress out of the snug house in Bishop’s Woods; but, he had no intention, now or at any time in the future, of disrupting his ordered existence with falling in love.
    Gruffly he ordered Sabrina, “I am here now, so take your mother off to bed.”
    Pulling on the thick plait hanging over one shoulder, she glanced nervously in her mother’s direction, but still didn’t move from the doorway.
    “Lord Vane is right, Sabrina. Come, we shall return to our chambers.” She rose from the chair, her heavy hair curved across her cheek, hiding her face.
    In the dim light, he couldn’t make out the expression in her eyes. Without speaking, she gathered her