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good—” He met her unwavering gaze for a long moment, then finished softly, “Husband.”
    Catriona rose to pace the cell, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve heard other rumors about you since your return as well. Rumors not printed in the scandal sheets but whispered in drawing rooms and back alleys. They say that you’re willing to use the skills you acquired in the navy to provide certain services for those in need of them—protection, transportation, retrieval of lost items.” She paused before one of the plaster statues, running one finger lightly along the nymph’s dimpled cheek. “All for a price, of course.”
    “Devoting oneself to a life of debauchery doesn’t come cheap, you know.”
    Behind her, she heard the settee creak as Simon sat up. “Is that why you came here today, Miss Kincaid? Because you wish to hire me?”
    “No, Mr. Wescott,” she replied coolly, turning to face him. “I came here today because I wish to marry you.”

CHAPTER 4
    S imon had received some unconventional proposals in his life—many of them too lurid to whisper in mixed company—but none of them had involved anything as shocking as the prospect of matrimony.
    His nimble tongue failed him as he gaped at his visitor, wondering if she was as balmy as she was lovely. The promise of beauty he’d glimpsed in that barn five years ago had been fulfilled beyond his wildest expectations.
    Hers was the sort of beauty that required no cosmetics or artifice to enhance it. She didn’t need a beauty patch to draw attention to the kissable plumpness of her bottom lip or rouge to heighten the natural roses in her cheeks. There were those who might have judged her nose a fraction too sharp or her jaw a shade too strong, but Simon would have condemned them as fools. He found her flaws to be as endearing as her charms, especially the unfashionable hint of strawberry in her hair and the delicate scattering of freckles that dappled the cream of her skin. As far as he was concerned, trying to bleach them away with buttermilk or Gowland’s Lotion should be considered a hanging offense.
    His jests had held a damning ring of truth. He could barely remember her cousin Alice.
    Hell, he could barely remember the face of the randy young countess who had taken him to her bed the night the magistrate’s henchmen had dragged him out of it and into this cell. But he had never forgotten this girl or the look in her eyes when he had so recklessly cupped her cheek in his hand and seduced her into meeting his gaze.
    He’d admired his own reflection in the eyes of countless women through the years, but the man gazing back at him from those misty gray mirrors had been a stranger. A man who might actually be worthy of such admiration. A man who still had a chance to make both his country and his father proud.
    This time Simon didn’t bother with the glass. He simply lifted the bottle of port to his lips and took a deep swig of the liquor, welcoming its familiar and numbing burn. “Your driver must have taken a wrong turn on the way here, Miss Kincaid. This is Newgate, not Bedlam.”
    “I’m well aware of how mad such a notion must sound to you.” She reached up to swipe away a stray curl that had escaped her neat chignon, reminding him of the awkward girl she had been. Her years in England had finally succeeded in polishing the lilt from her voice. Simon was surprised by how much he missed it. “But what I’m offering you is very much a business proposition. Isn’t that what most marriages are anyway?”
    “Why, Miss Kincaid,” he drawled, “I had no idea the heart of a true romantic beat beneath that lovely bosom of yours.”
    That lovely bosom heaved in a sigh of frustration. “You can mock me if you like, but you know I’m telling the truth. An impoverished duchess weds a wealthy merchant to save the fortunes of her family. Two young people who grew up on adjoining estates pledge their troths simply to please their families and unite their lands.