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were quite adamant about it. I remember listening to numerous complaints about your wretched guardian’s unreasonable behavior and his selfish habit of forever thwarting your plans.”
    Isabel risked a contrite glance at Marcus’s face. “It was a long time ago and has no place in this conversation,” she said tightly.
    “But it is so delicious, my dear,” Whitley said, staring at Isabel with a small, spiteful smile. “From your comments I was expecting to meet a veritable monster and instead I see before me a sensible gentleman.”
    “As Mrs. Manning stated, it was a long time ago,” Marcus said flatly, not liking Whitley’s malicious enjoyment of Isabel’s embarrassment and disliking even more the furtive apprehensive looks Isabel flashed Whitley whenever she thought herself unobserved. She was afraid of the man, Marcus concluded ominously. But why? He realized that the why didn’t matter: what mattered was that Isabel was frightened of this “friend” from her past and that it was in his power to shelter her from whatever threat Whitley represented. Abruptly, Marcus said, “It has been, ah, an enlighteningmeeting but if you will excuse us now, Mrs. Manning and I have business to discuss.”
    Whitley stiffened. “I do not wish to be rude, sir, but I believe that you were the one who interrupted my business with Mrs. Manning.”
    A glint leaped to the gray eyes. “Perhaps you misunderstood me,” said Marcus icily. “I have asked you politely to leave. I suggest you do so before I forget my manners.”
    Major Whitley had not survived twenty years in the military without recognizing the need for a strategic retreat. He had no idea how much of a threat Sherbrook represented, but it occurred to him that a wise man would abandon the field at this point. He looked at Isabel. There would be other meetings. Meetings that did not include the overbearing Mr. Sherbrook.
    It went against the grain, but Whitley smiled and murmured, “Ah, it appears I did misunderstand. Forgive me.” Meeting Marcus’s cool gaze, he added, “Until we meet again, Mr. Sherbrook.”
    Turning to Isabel, Whitley took her hand in his and bowed. His bow completed, he stood before Isabel and smiled. Not a nice smile. “It has been a pleasure renewing our acquaintance,” he said. “I look forward to seeing you again. We have much to discuss about the old days in Bombay, don’t we, my dear.”
    Marcus watched the exchange closely, frowning. Surely the damn fellow wasn’t threatening Isabel? But even more telling was the slight shrinking away of Isabel’s body from Whitley’s and the swiftly concealed flicker of fear he glimpsed in her eyes. His own eyes narrowed. It appeared he was going to have to take decisive action and he could think of only one way that would rout the fellow and ensure Isabel’s protection from further advances.
    Marcus strolled over and, taking Isabel’s hand from Whitley’s, he held her cold little fingers in his, and said, “Mrs. Manning and I will let you know when it will be convenient for you to call.”
    “I think that Mrs. Manning can issue her own invitations,” Whitley snapped. “She doesn’t need your permission.”
    “Ah, you’re wrong there,” Marcus said. Smiling warmly down at Isabel, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on her knuckles. Looking back at Whitley, he added, “You see, Mrs. Manning has recently done me the honor of accepting my proposal. As her future husband, Mrs. Manning will be asking my permission for a great many things.”

Chapter 2
    “P ray tell me,” Isabel demanded sarcastically, “what maggot has gotten into your brain? How dare you tell Whitley that we are engaged! Of all the nonsensical notions!” Her entire body vibrating with suppressed emotion, she glared at him and Marcus correctly deduced that it was not delight that caused her reaction.
    Once Whitley had taken his abrupt leave from the newly betrothed pair, in an uncomfortable silence they