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now.
    This was a golden opportunity. What other option did she have? She had nowhere to go. Marriage to this newly minted earl would offer her valuable protection. She would be safe. Hampton Park would be safe. The price would be a loveless marriage.
    Compared to the alternative, it was an attractive offer.
    Isobel cleared her throat and leveled her eyes at him. “I accept your proposal, Lord Thornby. I will be your bride. And I understand the terms of our agreement. Completely.”
    He reached for her hand, and brought it to his lips. A sizzling tingle whispered up her spine as his mouth pressed against her skin. She wanted to lower her eyes to hide her reaction, but found that she couldn’t. This man, this handsome stranger with the enigmatic blue eyes, would be her husband.
    In name only.
    “We shall be married as soon as possible,” he said, standing. “Please join me in the salon. We must discuss details about the wedding.” He closed the door behind him.
    Isobel looked at a crumpled handkerchief that Martha had given her earlier and smoothed it, fingering the pale-blue stitching of his initials. God in Heaven, had she done the right thing? Was a marriage of convenience to this Lord Thornby the only way to remain safe from the fiend who haunted her nightmares, and threatened her body and soul?
    Soon she would be Lord Thornby’s wife. He needn’t know about Hampton Park just yet. He would inherit substantial property with the earldom. When the time came for her to assume her new residence, she would merely state her preference for her ancestral home.
    It was dishonest, what she was doing. But given the circumstances, it was clearly her only choice.
    Another knock sounded at the door. It opened and Martha came bustling in with a gleaming silver tray carrying steaming tea, mouthwatering scones and pastries, and bowl of fresh, fragrant strawberries with Devonshire cream.
    “The master said I was to bring ye a breakfast tray, Miss, even though it is almost time for luncheon,” Martha said with a warm smile. She placed the tray over Isobel’s lap, then poured the tea. “I hear there’s to be a weddin’! And so much to be done. Cakes and pastries to be made. I’ll need eggs and kidneys for the breakfast. And ham… Lord Thornby likes ham, so he does…” The cook muttered the last to herself as she waddled out the door.
    Isobel raised the cup to her nose and breathed in its warm, earthy scent. She sipped the drink and took a bite of buttered scone, thinking of her wedding. She would need more than tea to get her through that.
    As she devoured the contents of the breakfast tray with unladylike speed, Isobel’s thoughts centered around the man who would shortly become her husband. Could a man as handsome as Lord Beckett Thornby really be so desperate for a bride that he’d marry a girl he found in a rubbish heap?
    Lord Thornby’s secrets were none of her concern. Perhaps he wanted to continue with a carefree life, as most noblemen did. Perhaps he already had a mistress. Perhaps he had children with her.
    She should consider herself lucky that Lord Thornby had chosen her to be his bride, whatever his reasons.
    Suddenly, the memory of waking up next to him sent strange shivers down Isobel’s spine. She’d been naked in that bed…and he’d been half-naked, for his part. What exactly had happened between them?
    He’d apologized, but he hadn’t explained the full truth of the matter. Who exactly had undressed her? The answer hit her with a horrible certainty. It had been him .
    Isobel felt her blood heat with anger, and something else she couldn’t name.
    Excitement?
    Lord Thornby had taken off her clothes with those strong-looking hands of his. What happened after that?
    Still, if Lord Thornby had wanted to take advantage of her, wouldn’t he have done so, and tossed her right back onto the street? He certainly wouldn’t have felt obliged to offer for her hand in marriage.
    A quick knock sounded at the door