Poor Colin, she fretted, worrying her lower lip. What had he been thinking to antagonize a man like the Marquis of Hartley? But it was too late to regret Colin's folly. Now she must somehow work to ameliorate it.

She willed herself to be calm. She must do whatever necessary to divert the man, and that meant preventing Lord Hartley from setting off for Gretna Green in pursuit of the wayward couple.

She crossed the room toward him, beating back the absurd impression that she was entering a lion's den. This was her house, not his. No harm could befall her at Benchley House. "I should like to find them as soon as possible and bury any word of this unfortunate incident before it gets out," she said breezily. "As, I'm certain, do you."

He crossed his arms, presenting a truly threatening image. "I'd like to bury something, all right."

"There's no cause for such talk as that," she snapped at him. "We are dealing with two foolish young people who, no doubt, think they are in love."

"In love with her money," he scoffed.

Jinx smiled, a deliberately smug, superior smile. "You do not know my brother very well if you think that. Money does not count with him."

"Really? Then he's the only young man in England to feel that way."

She meant to control her temper. Truly she did. But rudeness toward her darling Colin, and in her own home, was too much for anyone to bear. She tilted her chin up. "Pray tell, is that why you remain unwed? You've not yet found a woman rich enough to please you?"

His eyes narrowed and for a moment Jinx thought he might loose his famous temper upon her. But what could he do, she thought, bolstering her courage. Strike her? He would not dare. Threaten to ruin her family? The Benchleys were so far removed from the Hartleys' rank in society that she was surprised he'd managed even to find Benchley House.

That left only insults and verbal sparring, and in that venue Jinx trusted herself to hold her own.

To his credit, he did not resort to any of those. Still, the frost in his voice was enough to chill her to the bone. "It is not my motives which are in question, Miss Bench-ley, but your brother's. Do you perchance know where he is?"

"No." Not specifically.

"But you knew that he was gone and that I had reason to be searching for him. Did he inform you of his plans to run away with my sister?"

With a great show of frustration, Jinx turned and walked to the window. In truth, however, she needed desperately to break the hold of Lord Hartley's intense gaze. She feared he would see through any small fib she made, and even though her motives were pure-to save her brother's foolish skin-she did not want to lie to this man. After all, his motives were also commendable: to save his sister from a marriage few guardians would approve. She could not find fault with him for that.

Perhaps she should take a different tack. She turned to face him again. "I learned of this unfortunate situation just minutes prior to your arrival." She sighed. "My first thought was to go after him and stop him, but then you appeared. Tell me, what do you plan to do when you find them?"

When his jaw began rhythmically to clench and release-clench and release-she went on. "I know your reputation, Lord Hartley. Even here in the hinterlands we've heard tales of the murderous marquis. You will understand, therefore, my extreme interest in your answer. What do you intend to do?"

Their eyes locked. Jinx fancied she saw the workings of his mind. He weighed her value to his search against his need to vow his vengeance. She saw clearly the moment he dismissed her impact on his plans.

"I intend to challenge him to a duel," he stated calmly. Coldly. "I intend to do my level best to rid me and my sister of him forever."

Fury banished.every other emotion Jinx felt. She drew herself up, jerking her shawl closer around her shoulders. "I'll thank you to get out of my house. This very minute," she ordered.

"Not until I see the letter he left you. The one you apparently discovered this morning."

"I didn't say he left a letter. For all you know, he told me himself."

In a moment he was across the room, mere inches from her. He was so much taller, so much more threatening up close. She would have stepped back, but he caught her by the shoulders. "Is he here? Is Alice here?"

"How dare you lay hands upon me, sir! Release me at once!"

"The truth, Miss Benchley. Where are they? What do you know about this affair?"

"Enough to know I will not cooperate with the likes of you! Enough to understand why your poor sister would flee your protection for Colin's!"

He let go of her with an oath. "Alice is not fleeing me, though you may console yourself with thinking so. She no doubt fancies herself in love-an honest error for an innocent such as she. But I've learned enough about your brother to know he is not so innocent. You Benchleys have a reputation for being outlandish. Eccentrics. You do not fit in with the rest of proper society."

Jinx rubbed her hands over the places he'd held her. Though he'd not hurt her, the press of his fingers yet left their mark. "If we are eccentric, it is only because the rules of your society are so stifling as to kill any hope of creativity and happiness. Your rules are for small minds, and we Benchleys do not have small minds. Go on," she ordered. "Leave here. Chase after your sister. She has obviously made a love match with my brother and I have no doubt that she and Colin are supremely happy together, else they would not have risked your anger. But what have they to fear?" she added bitingly. " 'Tis clear Alice is possessed of a much broader intelligence than her narrow-minded brother. I should think she and Colin will have no trouble at all outwitting you. Good day, sir. I have nothing further to say to you."

Chapter Two

Jinx watched from the parlor window as Harrison Stirling stalked across the gravel front court, toward the stables. A little shiver snaked through her, and she rubbed her arms distractedly. The Marquis of Hartley would make a dire enemy. Did Colin have any inkling of the danger he'd put himself in?

Bits and pieces of old gossip filtered up from her memory. Lord Hartley had been quite as terrible a rake as society had ever seen. Drinking. Gambling. Whoring. Not to mention the dueling. And he had the gall to think Colin unsuitable! Then again, she'd heard reformed rakes made the strictest fathers-or guardians, in this case.

Except that Harrison Stirling hardly appeared to be reformed. The man was all temper and muscle and ruthless determination. Up close she'd been too involved in their confrontation to notice details of his appearance. But from the safety of her parlor window she could now be more detached.

In truth, Lord Hartley cut a most impressive figure- not unusual for a rake of the sporting set. The long, muscular legs of a horseman. The broad shoulders of a fencer. The powerful arms of a boxing enthusiast.

Colin did those things, too, she reminded herself. But

Harrison Stirling was half a head taller than her brother, and fairly two stone heavier, she'd wager.

If Lord Hartley caught up with him, Colin was a dead duck.

But only if Hartley caught up with him.

Her eyes narrowed, following the arrogant marquis until he disappeared beyond her prized topiary clipped in the shape of dragons. He would assume Colin and Alice had set off for Gretna Green as, according to fifer brother's letter, they had. But there were two main routes headed north, and any number of lesser routes. Colin would not wish to be caught. So which route would he take?

She bit her lip and fiddled with the lace curtain, still staring at the leafy dragons that formed an arch with their tails. She should have asked Lord Hartley where Lady Alice had disappeared from, London or a country estate. Colin had last been at home on Friday. Then he'd departed for town to meet their cousin Alfred-or so he'd said. He'd known she meant to spend a long weekend in Caulfield with her friend Virginia, who'd recently had her third child. That's why the wretch had left the note on her desk. He'd counted on her not finding it until Tuesday morning. It was pure chance she'd cut her visit a little short. Still, he had three days' head start on her.