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“To protect her.”
    “You’re doing a fine job, too,” Oliver said sarcastically.
    “Leave him be,” Miss Butterfield said, her eyes alight. “Can’t you tell he wasn’t trying to steal anything? He went in for me , to check the satchel and see if it had the right lettering on it—that’s all.”
    “And was caught running out of the place with it. That’s why those men out there want him hanged.”
    “Then they’re fools. Anyone can tell that Freddy is no thief.”
    “She’s right about that,” the dull-witted Freddy put in helpfully. “I’ve got two left feet—can’t go anywhere without running into something. That’s probably why they caught me.”
    “Ah, but in cases like this, the fools generally prevail. Those fellows out there don’t care about the truth. They just want your cousin’s blood.”
    Panic showed in her face. “You mustn’t let them have it!”
    He stifled a smile. “I could put in a good word for him, soothe their tempers and get you two out of this with your necks attached. If . . .”
    She instantly stiffened. “If what?”
    “If you accept my proposition.”
    A fetching blush spread over her pretty cheeks. “I shan’t give up my virtue, even to save my neck.”
    “Did I say anything about giving up your virtue?”
    She blinked. “Well . . . no. But given the kind of man you are—”
    “And what kind is that?” This should be amusing.
    “You know.” She tipped up her chin. “The kind who spends his time in brothels. I’ve heard all about you English lords and your debauchery.”
    “I don’t want your virtue, my dear.” He flicked his glance down her delectable body and suppressed a sigh. “Not that I don’t find the idea tempting, but right now I have more urgent concerns.”
    And no man of rank was fool enough to seduce a virgin—that was the surest way to end up leg-shackled to a schemer. Besides, he preferred experienced women. They knew how to pleasure a man without plaguing him about his feelings.
    “This may surprise you,” he went on, “but I rarely have trouble finding women to join me willingly in bed. I’ve no need to force a pretty thief there.”
    “I’m not a thief!”
    “Frankly, I don’t care if you are. The important thing is that you suit my purpose perfectly.”
    She had the same brash temperament as his sisters, which Gran had always deplored. She had the sort of upbringing that Americans seemed to prize and Englishmen to despise. A mother who’d been a shop-keeper’s daughter, and a father who’d been an illegitimate American of no consequence? Who’d fought in the very revolution that had cost Gran her only son? He couldn’t ask for better.
    Best of all, the chit was in trouble—which meant she wouldn’t cost him a small fortune, unlike the whore he’d planned to hire. But since he’d met her in a brothel, he could still use that to thwart Gran.
    He strode up to her. “You see, my grandmother and I are engaged in a battle that I intend to win. You can help me. So in exchange for my extracting you and Freddy from this delicate situation, I’ll require that you do something for me.”
    A wary expression crossed her face. “What?”
    He smiled at the thought of Gran’s reaction when he brought her home. “Pretend to be my fiancée.”

Chapter Four
    Maria gaped at him. Surely she’d heard him wrong. “You want me to what ?”
    The secretive smile playing about Lord Stoneville’s sensual mouth gave her pause. “Pretend to be my fiancée for a short time. As soon as I convince Gran that I seriously mean to marry you, the need for the pretense will end.”
    She felt as if she’d stumbled into one of her Gothic novels. “You’re mad.”
    “No, I’m just plagued with a grandmother who thinks that forcing me and my siblings into marriage will settle her mind about our futures—an idea that I mean to show her is absurd.”
    “By pretending to be engaged to a perfect stranger?”
    He shrugged. “I came here