Now he was wide awake and ready to tackle his most pressing problem; Miss Audrey Hathaway who had, quite unexpectedly, fallen into his lap. Meeting her here at this god-forsaken inn had been quite extraordinary, certainly better than he could have hoped for. He had thought that he would have to wait for an opportunity to see her again, especially as he had not realized Meg was such a good friend of Isabella Carstairs. Unfortunately, the presence of his brother and his stepmother was not quite so fortuitous and he could only marvel at the whimsy of fate.

‘One hand gives, the other takes away,’ he murmured sardonically. He would simply have to deal with Roddy and Judith as events unfolded. The presence of Roddy’s fiancée should help enormously, for she had every right to expect his half-brother’s full attention. As for Judith… well, he had been trying to ignore her existence for years, just as she had been trying to ignore his.

No, the presence of his erstwhile family wasn’t the issue. His problem, he was more than ready to admit, was definitely Audrey.

He sighed and clasped his hands behind his head.

Audrey Hathaway was every bit as desirable as he remembered and he remembered her all too well. She was entirely delectable, a quiet jewel that had glowed in the dim light of the inn’s unprepossessing parlor. The moment he had stepped into the room and his glance had settled on her, he had felt a strange sensation, that same small hitch in the smooth beating of his heart that he always felt in her presence.

After that look, of course, things had not gone particularly well for she had turned white and had crumpled in a heap on the rug before him and he had gone cold through and through. It wasn’t until after her mother had reassured him that her daughter had merely fainted that Darius had been able to relax again, reassured that she had taken no harm.

Clearly, Audrey had been so overjoyed to see him that she had passed out, he reflected wryly. He would have to work on that.

Still, he was heartened by the way the recognition in her eyes had so quickly been shadowed by remembrance of their two meetings. It had given him a small thrill of satisfaction, knowing that the memory of that damned kiss was still with her. Either that, or she was so appalled by the sight of him that she had been overcome by horror. If that were the case, he might just despair because he could not forget that bloody night at Almack’s or the way she had not pulled away when he had touched her in the park; would a woman who reviled him welcome his touch so readily?

Dear God, he reflected grimly, this entire adventure was a gamble and he wasn’t even sure what he was wagering.

He suspected, however, that it was nothing short of his heart and that particular item had never been on the table before.

It was because of the sorry state of his heart that he was here in Somerset now, tracking down one, particular woman. In London he had been able to pretend that his quest was by way of a release. He would meet her again and somehow purge her from his thoughts. How he would do this was unclear, although seduction had been very much on his mind. It was still on his mind, but the situation had changed. He did not want to merely take Audrey Hathaway to bed. Or rather, he did, but not just once. Having seen her again he had concluded that keeping her close, now and in the foreseeable future, was his greatest desire.

Which left him with a problem because somehow, his intentions had transformed into something far more serious. For how could he give a girl like Audrey the life her birth and breeding commanded? He was a bastard, albeit a wealthy one. But all the money in England could not change the fact that he was not the kind of man a respectable woman elected to marry. Even if he could somehow convince Audrey to marry him, her family would certainly object and he would not blame them for doing so.

‘So what the devil am I doing here?’ he muttered. ‘Bonding with my beloved family?’

Not that he would object to forging some kind of bond with his siblings. But now was not the time to pursue that, even if he had decided to do so. Even if Roddy did not wish to acknowledge he had a brother, he was inclined to make him. Darius was determined to get by the ridiculous resentments of the past and try and get to know his half siblings.

He had an uncomfortable feeling that he was in danger of growing up.

When Roddy had been younger, Darius had tried to be there for his brother. Roddy needed an older male to guide him after their father had died and for a time, it looked as if they might manage some kind of brotherly relationship. But not for long. After the earl’s death, Judith Allingham had made sure that her only son understood all the reasons why he should never listen to his bastard brother and the brief accord that had begun to grow between them had been shattered.

It had been a pity. The boy was well enough under all that awkward self-importance and he and Constance were the only family Darius had. It would have been nice to maintain some sort of contact, especially as his mother’s people did not care to acknowledge him either. Highborn Spaniards were a touchy lot and the son of Donatella Vasquez de Mallorca might have nurtured aspirations to a wealthy duchy in Spain, especially as Donatella’s actual husband had produced no heirs from their union. Like Judith, his mother’s family was convinced that Darius was out for what he could get, never once believing that Darius simply did not care enough to pursue such a prize. Indeed, Judith genuinely seemed to believe that Darius meant her own son harm, convinced that he would rob him of as much of his inheritance as he could lay his hands on. Darius suspected his stepmother’s viewpoint was based on a foundation of good, old-fashioned jealousy for she must have loathed her husband’s long-standing, openly affectionate relationship with his mistress. But her mistrust was misplaced. Darius had shared a perfectly decent relationship with his sire and had never blamed him for his illegitimacy. Donatella, his mother, had died when he was only seven but she had been passionate, reckless and utterly devoted to the Earl of Allingham. She had not begrudged his marriage to the eighteen-year-old Judith Lake for, while the Contessa de Mallorca could give him the son that he yearned for, she could not give him a legitimate heir, married as she was to another man.

It was Judith herself who had bitterly resented the arrangement. As well she might, Darius reflected wryly, for his father had made no bones about his affection for both his mistress and his eldest child. His youthful bride must have profoundly resented the presence of both in his life, especially when Darius had joined the Allingham household at Birchfield Hall after the premature death of Donatella in a riding accident. Fond as he was of his father, the old man had been a poor judge of character and ridiculously optimistic that his wife would develop an affection for his eldest son. What woman would not soften towards a young boy after such a tragedy? How could her heart not melt when faced with a motherless seven year old?

Quite easily, as it turned out. After Donatella’s death, a difficult period had ensued for all and the earl, grieving for his beloved mistress, had not managed the situation well. Judith, incensed and deeply mortified by the arrival of her husband’s bastard, had made no bones about her distaste for the arrangement and had barely tolerated Darius’ presence. She regarded him with ill-concealed fury and made sure that young Roddy never had the opportunity to grow too attached. When a sister, Constance, had been born several years later, Darius had barely seen her, so intent was Judith in keeping him away.

It had been a relief all around when he had been sent off to Harrow, although he suspected that the earl’s insistence that he have the same education as all the Allingham males had infuriated her just as much as his presence at Birchfield, for it reinforced her husband’s belief that Darius was very much a part of the family, even if he could never lay claim to the title.