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refused, she would lose the school. The girls would have nowhere to go but back to the streets that they were trying so hard to escape. But could she agree to be no better than this man’s slave? What exactly would he ask of her?
    The strange, cold feeling in her stomach told her the answer. She had no choice. She would have to pay the price for Lord Weston’s silence, and pray that he would be honorable.
    “I agree to your terms, my lord,” she said. “In exchange for your silence, I shall pay whatever price you deem fit. ”
    His dark eyes sparkled, and he gave a wry smile. “Very good, Miss Atwater. When I have decided on the price you are to pay, I will inform you. And now, I must return to my great-aunt. I fear that if you and I take anymore turns about the room, we will cause the gossips to speculate on the depth of our relationship. Until tomorrow night. We shall come ’round about eight to fetch you.”
    He bowed over her hand again, leaning toward her and said softly, “You might consider wearing that lovely little confection in red satin I saw you in that night. I must say, the plunging neckline suited you. And I very much enjoyed the view. Until tomorrow, Miss Atwater.”
    Prudence watched him walk away and tried to quell the wretched feeling that churned in her heart.
    Until she paid her debt to him, the infuriating Lord Weston now virtually held her prisoner!
    * * *
    Alfred handed Great-Aunt Withypoll into the carriage and followed her inside. In a few moments they were heading away from the library and home to the townhouse in Mayfair.
    “And how did you enjoy meeting Miss Atwater, Alfred?” Lady Weston asked as she settled herself into her seat. “Pretty little chit, is she not?”
    “She was indeed pretty, Auntie, I agree.”
    “Mmm. And bright, as well,” she said. “Whatever were the two of you talking about for so long? Lady Abercrombie speculated that you may have developed a tendre for Miss Atwater already, you seemed so enchanted by her.”
    Alfred huffed. “Hardly. I’ve just met the girl, and you are measuring me for my wedding clothes! Miss Atwater is bright, and pretty, and that is all.”
    Only it wasn’t all, Alfred thought.
    There was much more to Miss Atwater than anyone would guess.
    “Well, there is no need to take that tone, Alfred,” Lady Weston said. “You had better be nice to her at the ball tomorrow.”
    “It will be an evening Miss Atwater will never forget…I promise,” he said, keeping his wicked thoughts to himself.
    “I am glad to hear it,” the old woman said, yawning sleepily. “I have had quite a day. I think I shall have a nap the rest of the way, my dear. Wake me when we are home.”
    “I will, Auntie.”
    In few moments Great-Aunt Withypoll was dozing off, and Alfred was left alone with his thoughts. He stared out the window as the carriage ambled through the streets of London.
    But as he stared out the window, he saw only the girl’s face. The full mouth…the vivid blue eyes…the autumn-red hair.
    He had lied to Great-Aunt Withypoll.
    Miss Prudence Atwater wasn’t the least bit pretty.
    The chit was most extraordinarily beautiful.
    She was also a petty thief who liked to go out at night dressed as a trollop.
    He chuckled as he thought of their first meeting, where she’d been trying so hard to convince him that she was a streetwalker. He’d known something wasn’t right. At first he’d thought she might have been a bored countess, out getting her kicks for the night. Then, when she’d seemed almost panicky, he’d attributed it to virginal trepidation.
    He’d been wrong on both counts.
    The girl was a bloody school-marm! One who needed to be taught a lesson herself, it seemed. And he would be only too glad to oblige.
    Now he had her right where he wanted her—indebted to him. She had agreed to pay the price of his choosing. It was a situation that he planned to take full advantage of.
    Perhaps it was rakish, what he was doing. Certainly, a