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Del hoped her voice sounded casual, that it belied none of the intense curiosity she actually felt.
    Jane gave her a sideways glance and Del knew her attempt at nonchalance had failed.
    “It seems he is quite worried about you.” Jane’s eyes scanned the path. She seemed almost bored with the present conversation, and appeared instead to be intently studying the other pedestrians enjoying the sunny afternoon in Hyde Park. Del knew, however, that Jane was thoroughly enjoying her playful torment.
    “Worried about me?” Del said with a soft laugh. “Whyever for?”
    “He said it has been weeks since you — how shall I put it? Been
in flagrante delicto
, and days since you have entertained him at all. He pleaded with me to make you see reason.”
    “Pleaded? Blakely has never pleaded — ”
    “Oh no you don’t,” Jane said with a good-natured laugh. “You will not focus on my diction and ignore the substance of what I said. I will not let you maneuver out of an explanation that easily.”
    “There is nothing to explain. I have merely been busy, and I haven’t had the time to see Blakely.”
    “Busy with what?” Jane asked, clearly skeptical.
    “Well, I — Mrs. Tiddles and I — ”
    Jane gave a most unladylike snort before she abruptly stopped walking and turned Del to face her. “Ah, so there
is
something going on with you! You only bring up the mythical great-aunt when you are trying to conceal something.”
    “Nonsense. You are being ridiculous.”
    “Del,” Jane said, her tone completely serious for the first time that afternoon. “We have been dear friends for years. Tell me what has you so distracted lately, what has you shutting out your companions.”
    “Really, Jane, you are being dramatic. We are not on the stage.” Del started walking again, threading her arm back through Jane’s and pulling her along. “I am simply taking a little time to myself, that is all.” Del almost smiled at how convincing she sounded. Her composure — her armor — was firmly back in place.
    “Blakely’s worried you’ve agreed to be exclusive with someone. Put him in quite a fettle, that notion, considering you rejected
his
offer.”
    Del scoffed. “You know I would never make such an arrangement.”
    “So it wouldn’t be a certain handsome young man you met weeks ago causing this rift, then, would it?”
    Del stiffened slightly before she could catch herself, and she hoped Jane hadn’t noticed. “Young man?” she asked, a paragon of innocence. Blast Jane and her perceptiveness.
    “The blond gentleman you saw at my party last week. The one you had apparently had — ‘dealings’ with before. The one who made that impeccable façade of yours crack oh-so-slightly, and caused you to bolt rather unceremoniously from my townhouse into the night. That one.”
    “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I was simply tired that evening and left a little early.”
    “You may be able to keep men at a distance with your deft dissembling, my dear, but not me. Never me. Who
is
he?”
    Del hesitated, wondering just how much she should divulge to Jane. And, really, what was there to tell? Rhys Camden was nothing more than a man — a young, innocent, idealistic man — who’d spotted her on the street and tried to intervene when he thought she needed saving. Tried to help again when he thought she needed to escape her life. It was no different from a dozen other young men who had tried to “save” her, who had offered Del their protection in exchange for exclusivity. Except Camden hadn’t demanded her services as payment for his heroism. He didn’t seem to want anything in return for helping her.
    And now Del couldn’t get him out of her head.
    The images came to her unbidden, his sweet earnestness when he came to her aid that night with Lord Ashe. How he had looked at her, a mixture of interest and desire and innocence and awe showing so plainly on his face. How he had touched her, so gently, with hesitation