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scowling at the rain, frowned. “And no, I don’t remember. It was an—”
    “An arranged marriage. I recall ye said that a time or two.” No, she didn’t have brown hair or green eyes. Duncan might only have been in her company for a short time, but he knew that. Miss Prentiss’ hair had more sunset to it, a trace of auburn that turned to polished brass in the twilight. And her eyes were a sweet, rich brown.
    “And she had on a blue gown,” Bellamy added.
    “If I see her, I’ll send ye word. Or do ye want me to tie her over a horse and bring her to ye myself?”
    “There’s no need to frighten her further. Just send me word if you see her,” the earl said, a touch too quickly. As if he didn’t want anyone talking to his so-called bride.
    Duncan wasn’t about to comment on that subject any further, though. “I will.” Ye damned, lying bastard , he added silently, and shut the door on the intruders and the wild storm outside.

CHAPTER THREE
    Julia wondered how long a person could survive without breathing. Her elbow itched, a stray hair tickled her nose, and yet she lay where she was, unmoving, her fingers clutching the box of chess pieces like it was armor.
    The voices above her were only a little muffled; she could hear every word the three men spoke. She could imagine their expressions as easily as if she stood among them; Bellamy would be red-faced, his chin in the air because someone had dared to interfere with his perfect little plan. Orville Fersen, his narrowed eyes cynical, would be searching for her with the keen senses of a hound. And Duncan Lenox would be impassive, annoyed at the intrusion, and not giving any sign at all that he’d stashed her literally under the other men’s feet.
    When he insulted Bellamy, she actually smiled; she’d wanted so badly to tell the earl precisely what she thought of him and his dealings, and only the realization that she would fare better if she behaved had kept her from doing so. She liked the way Duncan defended his sisters, as well. It certainly spoke well of him. In fact, she found herself listening mostly to his voice, to his quick, measured responses and the way he used every opportunity to point out the difference between a true gentleman and what Bellamy clearly was.
    After the door closed, the shack fell very quiet. Was Duncan belatedly wishing he’d chosen a different course of action? She knew as well as he that the longer she remained in his company, the more likely his part in all this was to be discovered. Then the bed above her shifted, the plank creaked, and firelight flooded into her black hole.
    “I’m sorry I had to keep ye in there fer so long,” he said, kneeling at the edge and holding out both hands for her. “If I’d shot ’em, more folk would have come by to ask questions.”
    She took his hands, his warm fingers curling around hers, and let him help her out of her hiding place. “I don’t know if it’s a compliment, Duncan,” she returned, smiling, “but you are a splendid liar.”
    He inclined his head, standing up beside her. He was bare-chested again, his hair disheveled and one boot missing. Utterly delicious, the baser part of her decided. And utterly desirable.
    “I’d nae lie to anyone with an ounce of honor,” he said. “So compliment me all ye like.”
    His green eyes, darker in the firelight, met her gaze squarely. And there she stood, in a ruined dress, a disaster of a knot left in her hair, and straw in her shoes. An utterly ruined woman who’d, by some blind stroke of luck, lost her horse in front of quite possibly the one man in the Highlands who not only could help her, but had agreed to do so. At great peril to himself.
    Before she could lose her nerve, Julia put a hand on his bare shoulder, leaned up, and kissed him on the mouth. She felt his surprise, and for a second she worried that he would push her away. Would she lose her rescuer? Would he think that she was purchasing his protection with her