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you.”
    He chuckled. “No, that one isn't my sister.”
    “But she said-”
    “I'm sure she did. The Haberdashers have undoubtedly taken it into their minds to be my protectors.”
    “Protectors? Those girls were smelling orange blossoms. And I heard one of them use the term Haberdashers. What does it mean?”
    He stroked the silken skin under her left breast. “It's just the name of their club.”
    “That's odd. Do they create notions?”
    He chuckled again. “Not the way you're thinking.”
    She sighed. “Well, as delightful as this has been, I must return to my cousin's house before she sends out searchers. And I find myself woefully lacking in clothing.”
    “You've fallen prey to my dastardly plan of keeping you naked in my bed.”
    She lay down on his chest again, smiling. “We never made it to your bed.”
    “That was stage two of the plan.”
    “Where in your plan was Lord Chester going to be banging on the door, because you need to include that.”
    “You think they can find you?”
    “The Chester carriage has been outside your home for over an hour now.”
    He tickled her ribs. “What a terrible oversight on my part.”
    She squirmed away from his fingers and he slipped out from underneath her, leaving her lounging on the sofa. He tossed his white shirt to her. “Wear this while I arrange for your dress.”
    Donning his breeches, he went to find Bobbins and secure suitable clothing for Miss Grant.
     
    * * *
     
    Imogen wrapped herself in Robert's shirt and sat back on the sofa. She felt the euphoria and lethargy of vigorous lovemaking, and perhaps something else that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She picked up the abysmally embroidered pillow. It must be the girl who shared his eyes, the duchess. Did she know that her brother had kept it? There were times when Imogen wished she'd had siblings. Her life had often been lonely, traveling with her mother on business or staying at a boarding school. She had seen many amazing things, she'd just had no one to talk to about it. Well, no one who really mattered.
    She set the pillow down again. There was no reason to indulge in maudlin thoughts. It had been some time now that she had been old enough to travel on her own and do whatever she wanted to do. Not that her mother hadn't fought it, insisting at first on companions and guards. But after enough instances of Imogen leaving her entourage stranded on various continents, her mother finally relented. Provided, of course, that Imogen checked in as agreed and visited relatives as agreed. And generally did everything as agreed . It was little wonder that her mother was not only one of the few women to run a large business in the world, but by far the most successful. The woman was an unstoppable force.
    But soon she would go visit Papa, and that was something altogether different. While Mama could be like the restless and powerful ocean, Papa was as calm and steady as the stone his keep was built on. Growing up, she had often wished that she lived in her father's highland home rather than traveling the world. But her mother had hoped that Imogen would take to the business as she herself had as a child. A hope that had gradually lessened over the years until Imogen had finally broken free of it two years ago. Two years of freedom. A freedom that felt surprisingly empty and lonely. Even here with her cousin, she couldn't entirely escape the pangs of loneliness that plagued her. But perhaps with Papa she would regain the warmth of family.
    The door opened and Robert Bittlesworth slipped back inside. He had dressed again and carried garments over one arm. He locked the door before turning to address her. “It was impossible to find blue silk underclothes on short notice and this will have to do. I hope you don't mind me acting as your lady's maid?”
    “Of course not.” Imogen stood and tossed aside the shirt she had been wearing. She saw desire blaze again in his eyes.
    “As tempting as you look,