Chapter Three

“No one wishes to do me in,” Draco replied with a growl at Imogen. “Who would ever mistake me for that wretch?”

Imogen tried not to take offense at his dismissive remark. He was quite agitated, and who would not be if someone had been killed on their property during a welcome party? But could he not see that the culprit might have wanted him dead and only killed Driscoll by mistake? She would not allow him to discard the possibility, but decided not to pursue the matter just now.

If looks could kill…he certainly appeared angry enough to throttle her.

“Lord Woodley, forgive me if it sounds impertinent,” Constable Angel said, “but where were you when all this happened?”

“He was dancing with me,” Imogen immediately replied on his behalf. “He had claimed the supper dance, you see. Then we unmasked and were speaking with his uncle and cousin, Deandra, when his dog, Parrot, suddenly growled and ran from us. Lord Woodley chased after him, so he was nowhere near the caves when the murder must have been happening.”

Constable Angel nodded. “I am not suggesting Lord Woodley murdered him, but I had to ask the question. And now you have raised a most intriguing possibility, Lady Imogen. Did Lord Driscoll’s killer know it was Lord Driscoll and not Lord Woodley he was stabbing?”

“He, or she, would have been rather incompetent to make that mistake,” Draco insisted. “Driscoll was surrounded by those unsavory friends of his. One would think someone intent on murdering me would do the most basic research to learn more about me and know I would not go near that crowd. No, they must have been after Driscoll.”

He then turned to Viscount Brennan. “Let’s gather your men and stop those carriages before Driscoll’s friends go into hiding. They were scared. I’m sure they saw something.”

Constable Angel marched out with them in order to summon his constables, the doctor, and anyone else required to perform whatever formalities were required when one was dealing with a dead body.

Imogen watched them leave, knowing their first order of business would be to change out of their costumes so as not to be viewed as laughingstocks by anyone they encountered along the way as they gave chase.

Her Uncle Cormac and the two dukes had been assigned the task of protecting the body and searching the area for clues. They had immediately gone down to the pirate caves, but before departing, her uncle had issued a further warning: “Stay indoors and stay together until we return. The killer may still be among us.”

Imogen’s aunt put an arm around her as Draco marched off with a purposeful stride. “Your observation was very clever, Imogen.”

“Lord Woodley did not seem to think so. Why do you think he was so peeved?” She shook her head, finding it hard to think of Draco Waring as the Earl of Woodley. Obviously, he was, and had the commanding presence to go along with the title.

Phoebe’s sister, Henley, smiled at her. “Men can be funny that way, not liking when a woman comes up with an idea more clever than theirs. I would not have thought of it myself, but you have an artist’s eye and picked up on that interesting detail immediately.”

Brenna, the Duke of Claymore’s wife, and Chloe, Viscount Brennan’s wife, agreed.

“Also, it must have shaken him to think someone wanted him dead,” Brenna added. “Would that not upset any of us?”

“He does not strike me as someone easily rattled,” Imogen remarked, thinking of the way he had chased off Driscoll earlier when the man approached her.

“Well, now he is aware of the possibility,” Chloe said. “If he were the intended victim, the killer might try again once he realizes his first attempt failed.”

Imogen’s heart lurched. “Perhaps the danger extends to his uncle and cousin as well. Let’s keep an eye on Albert Woodley and his daughter, Deandra. I’m glad our masks are finally off and we can see faces. Most guests have already gone to the dining room now that supper has been served. Shall we follow?”

“Good idea,” Phoebe muttered, leading the way.

The revelers were hungry, and the display of food was lavish and quite sumptuous. It helped distract Imogen from the gruesome thought of a body on the Woodley grounds. In truth, she was surprised no one other than her immediate family and a few close friends realized what was happening.

Well, Draco had been discreet.

Besides, who was going to hear anything over the music or the chatter, especially when most guests were drunk by now? Nor did she think anyone would notice the absence of Constable Angel or any dukes, marquesses, viscounts—even their earl host—now that they had all moved on to the dining room and seen the feast on display.

Many guests were already digging into the exquisitely presented fare. Footmen were busy serving mutton, smoked trout, honey-glazed squab, crab soup, leeks in butter sauce, peas, roasted carrots in a cinnamon glaze, savory pies—and still more food was carried in to replenish the massive quantities already served.

Imogen ingratiated herself with Deandra while the other ladies occupied Albert Woodley. Imogen’s task was easy enough. Deandra was so excited about attending her first ball that she chattered on and on about it. “None of the other young ladies paid me any notice,” she said, reaching for Imogen’s hand. “But you have been so kind to me. I hope we shall become good friends.”

Imogen smiled. “I hope so, too. In truth, I know very few of the young ladies here tonight. Most are not from the local area and probably came to Moonstone Landing with their families for the summer.”

“Some came all the way from London just for this party and are staying at the Kestrel Inn.” Deandra pursed her lips. “They’ve only deigned to be here in the hope of catching my cousin’s eye, but Draco is very smart and will see right through their ploys.”

“I have only spoken to him briefly, but he does strike me as quite sharp,” Imogen agreed.

Deandra nodded enthusiastically. “He is. There is no one smarter or kinder. He has been very good to me and my father, truly taking us under his wing when he was under no obligation to do so.”

“He must care for you both quite deeply. It is right that he should take you into his heart and under his protection. Are you his only family?” Imogen was now curious to learn more about Draco Waring, the somewhat enigmatic Earl of Woodley.

“Yes, there is just us now that his parents and brothers have passed. I don’t think Draco ever expected to inherit the earldom, since he was third in line and youngest of the brothers. That all happened within the last two years, his father and brothers dying in short succession. They dropped like flies, one after the other.”

Imogen tried not to appear alarmed.

How could this fact be overlooked? Two brothers and a father dying close in time, and now Driscoll dead? Imogen was more convinced than ever that Driscoll’s death had been a mistake and the earl was the intended victim. She would insist on talking to him again when he returned, for she had to impress this warning on him. Or had he been so curt with her because he was already thinking the same thing?

“Deandra, how did his father and brothers die?” Imogen asked out of genuine concern as they made their way down the buffet line and piled their plates high.

“His father, who had already been a widower for many years, succumbed to a wasting sickness about two years ago. My eldest cousin, Nolan, then inherited the title. But he was a notorious wastrel, gambling and drinking and all that. He had not been earl even a year before he broke his neck falling off a horse at a country party.”

“Oh, that is quite tragic. Whose party?” Not that Imogen thought it was relevant, but why overlook any details?

“Lord Driscoll’s house party.” Deandra shrugged and glanced around, unaware the man had just been murdered. “I suppose that’s why Draco invited him tonight, out of respect for his friendship with Nolan. But Driscoll is a rogue. I do not like him very much. Not that I had many dealings with him.”

“I suppose Nolan brought him around a time or two,” Imogen suggested, her heart pounding at this revelation. She hoped to coax more information out of Deandra before she learned of Driscoll’s death and immediately stopped confiding in her.

“Oh, yes. He and Nolan were thick as thieves. My father and I went to visit Nolan once, and Lord Driscoll was there, his feet on the table and lording it over all of us. Quite rude, I thought. But Nolan never said anything.” Deandra glanced around the room before continuing. “I saw Driscoll here earlier with some of his unpleasant friends. Hopefully, they found our party boring and left to go drinking and gambling elsewhere. Although I do not know if they will find anything suitable in Moonstone Landing. It is a very quiet village, isn’t it?”

Imogen nodded. “Yes, for the most part. We like it that way. What happened to the second son?”

“Rafael died on his way home to claim the title. He had been in India, and his ship went down in a storm near Portugal. It was truly a tragedy. They were close to land when their ship struck rocks and sank. Most of the passengers survived, but he did not.”

Imogen frowned as they found seats at a quiet corner table and sat down together. “Did they rule his death a drowning? Was an investigation ever conducted?”

“I don’t know. I never bothered to ask. He was dead, and suddenly Draco was earl. The first thing Draco did upon returning to England and claiming the title was to ask after us, which neither of his brothers had bothered to do, although Rafael did not have the chance to do much of anything, since he never made it back to England alive.” Deandra leaned closer and whispered, “My father is a lovely man, but utterly incompetent when it comes to business matters. He spent his life as a professor and barely earned enough to provide for us, or so my mother often complained.”

Imogen put a hand over hers. “I’m sure your father did his best.”

Deandra nodded. “He did. He’s a wonderful man. Mother thought so, too. It was just our lack of money that frustrated her. But it helps immensely that Draco is now in charge. He has been for almost a year now. I hope he lasts as earl, because my father is next in line, and that would truly be a disaster. He doesn’t know the first thing about farming or running a business or political duties. But he can teach any useless, esoteric subject brilliantly.”

Imogen felt quite proud of herself by the time the party ended and the guests started to leave. She had made a friend of Deandra, who was cheerful and delightful, and also gotten some valuable information out of her concerning Driscoll.

She hoped Deandra would not be angry with her and feel used once she learned of Driscoll’s death—which she was about to do, since Imogen, along with the women in her family, and Brenna, Duchess of Claymore, lingered once the party ended. It was obvious the men were missing. Neither Draco nor Constable Angel had returned yet. Until one of them did, neither Imogen’s uncle nor the dukes were going to abandon the body.

However, if the corpse was found on the rocks beside the pirate cave entrance, it would have to be moved somewhere safe to keep it from being swept out to sea with the rising tide.

Where had they placed it?

Imogen guessed they had carried it up into the meadow while awaiting further instructions. Her uncle would also have scoured the area around the rocks and cliff walk for signs of a scuffle or other clues. Footsteps along the sand beach? How much could they find in the dark of night, even with their torches held high and Parrot’s sensitive nose to help them out?

When it became obvious to Deandra and her father that something was amiss, Imogen finally spoke up. “There was a serious accident earlier. Someone has died.”

“Who?” Deandra asked, wringing her hands. “It wasn’t Draco, was it? Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

Imogen hurried to reassure her before she burst into tears. “He is completely unharmed. It was Lord Driscoll who was found dead. It must have happened sometime shortly after the supper dance.”

Deandra let out a ragged breath. “I saw Draco dancing with you.”

Imogen nodded. “Yes, he was with me all through the waltz and the unmasking immediately following. Then we were chatting with you and your father. Your cousin left us only when Parrot started barking and ran off.”

“A dog’s hearing is much keener than ours,” Brenna commented. “He must have heard the crime taking place.”

Imogen nodded. “Draco…er, Lord Woodley went off with the constable and Viscount Brennan to track down Lord Driscoll’s friends. You see, they ran away, and he thinks they might have been involved or seen something and got scared.”

Albert Woodley spoke up. “What has become of the body?”

Phoebe stepped forward to answer. “My husband, along with the Duke of Malvern and Duke of Claymore, have gone down to the pirate caves to guard it and search the area for clues, as much as can be found before the tide washes everything away.”

“Why don’t we all retire to your parlor and have some tea while we wait for the men to return?” Brenna suggested. “We could be here a few more hours.”

Albert appeared tired, but agreed this was the right thing to do.

Deandra was curious and wanted to hear all the lurid details. Apparently, she was not at all irritated with Imogen for hiding the fact of the murder. “I would be sad if it were someone other than Lord Driscoll,” she confided, “but he was such an unpleasant man. Is it terrible of me not to mourn his loss? I have now attended my first ball and experienced my first murder! Wait until I tell my friends back in London. They will be quite jealous.”

Imogen frowned. “It is best not to gossip about it. Certainly say nothing until we know what is really going on.”

Deandra had the decency to look contrite. “Of course—I did not mean to sound indiscreet. I won’t say anything.”

“Good,” Henley remarked. “You certainly don’t want to give the impression you know more than you do, or else you might attract the interest of the murderer.”

Albert gasped.

So did Deandra. “I did not think of that.” She turned to her father. “Papa, we must not speak a word of this to anyone.”

He nodded. “I have no intention of it, child.”

Imogen felt rather bad about frightening the two Woodleys, but it was better for them to be scared and stay safe than have a killer on their trail. Same for her and the ladies seated with her. They were not going to say anything about this unpleasant incident.

Imogen shot out of her chair when Draco returned with Viscount Brennan and the constable about two hours later. The constable had brought along several of his men as well as one of the local doctors, Dr. Hewitt, who was well known and trusted by all who lived in the area. Draco remained behind while the others went to find Imogen’s uncle and the dukes who were still with the body.

“Did you catch up to Driscoll’s friends?” she asked.

Draco nodded. “They are at Fort Arundel now, given rooms in the barracks for the night… Well, what’s left of the night. It is almost dawn now. They’ll be kept under guard until we can properly question them.” He turned to his uncle. “Viscount Fionn Brennan happens to be the major in command of Fort Arundel, the local army fort. His soldiers will keep watch over Driscoll’s friends for now.”

“Why wait until morning to question them?” Chloe asked.

“We tried, but they aren’t talking yet. Perhaps once they have had the chance to sleep on it, they will open up about what really happened.” He turned to Imogen. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. We will investigate all possibilities, your suggestion included.”

“Thank you, Lord Woodley.”

He nodded as he addressed the other ladies. “I’ll fetch your husbands. You must all be exhausted and eager to return to your homes. The constables and the doctor will take over from here.”

“What about you, Draco?” Deandra asked, stopping him before he had the chance to leave the parlor.

“I’ll remain with the constables until the body is taken away. But you and your father ought to go up to bed now, Deandra. There’s no reason for all of us to be dead on our feet come morning.” He winced as he realized what he had just said. “Sorry, an ill-timed pun. You know what I mean.”

They all muttered their agreement.

“Would it be all right if Imogen spent the night with me?” Deandra pleaded. “She’s so brave, and I’m afraid to sleep alone.”

Phoebe stepped forward. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you and your father come to Westgate Hall with us? Sleep over for the next night or two while the investigation proceeds.”

Deandra clapped her hands. “An excellent idea.”

Albert appeared less than thrilled by the suggestion, but nodded. “Yes, we gladly accept. It will keep us out of Draco’s way while he seeks the killer.”

Draco readily agreed to it, too. “Thank you, Lady Burness. That eases my mind greatly.”

“And I hope you will join us for supper each evening, Lord Woodley,” Phoebe added.

He smiled. “I accept the generous offer, although I hope you do not expect me to discuss the progress of this investigation.”

Phoebe smiled back. “Wouldn’t dream of it. My husband will tell me all I need to know. We do not keep secrets from each other. In fact, we trust each other’s opinions and like to talk things out between us. You might do well to learn to trust others, particularly ladies. We tend to notice things that men do not. It cannot be overlooked that Imogen’s observations were quite insightful.”

Albert chuckled. “Draco, I believe you have just been given an elegant set-down.”

The earl was gracious enough to accept it with good humor. “Consider me duly chastened. However, I strongly believe you are safest not knowing information that might draw the killer’s attention to you. And that goes double for Imogen. Lord Driscoll and his friends were already eyeing her throughout the ball. In fact, I am thinking of sending Parrot to Westgate Hall along with my uncle and Deandra. I will feel much better if he remains close to them, particularly to Imogen.”

Imogen blushed. “I’m sure it isn’t necessary now that those wastrels are in custody, but I don’t mind having Parrot with me if this is what you wish.”

“Good, then it is settled. I’ll send him home with you.” He gave a curt bow and strode out to join the other men.

Deandra leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Ooh, I think my cousin likes you.”

“Nonsense,” Imogen whispered back, but the possibility sent a tingle through her.

Having taken responsibility for Parrot, Imogen was standing alone with him by the carriages twenty minutes later when Draco came around the side of the house, saw her, and immediately frowned. “What are you doing out here on your own?”

“I’m with Parrot,” she explained. “He had…um, business to take care of before he hopped into our carriage. He’s just behind those bushes.”

Draco glanced around. “And where is everyone else?”

“In the house. Oh, they’ll be out in a moment.”

A muscle tightened in his jaw as he continued to look around. “But they are not here now.”

Imogen thought he was being overly concerned, for the carriages were close by, and his butlers and footmen were constantly marching in and out of the house, although no one seemed to be present at this precise moment. “Kindly do not lecture me. I have only to scream, and a houseful of guests and servants will come running to my rescue.”

“I took you for smarter than that,” he said, his frown more pronounced because he was obviously irritated by her response. “It is easy for a man to come up behind you and cover your mouth so your screams would be muffled.”

“Parrot would tear out of the bushes and bite him. Is this not why you put him in my care?” She tried to stare him down, but noticed the flicker of amusement in his eyes as the peepers atop her head bobbed up and down. He was never going to take her seriously while those things protruded from her skull and bobbled in the wind, so she unpinned them and held them in her hands, since she had no place else to put them. “Parrot would protect me.”

“Assuming he had not already been silenced.”

“Why are you intent on frightening me? Why give me Parrot if you dismiss his abilities?”

“I am not dismissing his abilities, but he is still off pissing, or whatever else he does to amuse himself in those bushes.”

“Draco, enough. I am hardly ten steps from your house.”

“And you think this is adequate?” He raked a hand through his hair and then began to pace in front of her. “Look around you, Imogen. You are still alone.”

“I am not…” She refused to admit he was right, for not even the drivers were at their carriages. Well, there was one young groom running back and forth from one carriage to the other to check upon the horses. He was paying no attention to her at all.

She turned stubbornly toward her pirate earl. “Well, you are here with me now. And Parrot appears to be almost done with whatever it is he had to do.”

She heard a rustling in the bushes, but Parrot did not come out.

Apparently, he was not quite done yet.

“Take this seriously, Imogen. Anything can happen, and it only takes a few seconds, not even a minute, to occur.”

“But I would scream to alert the others.”

“Why are you being stubborn about this? May I show you how easily something can happen?”

She must have had a doubtful look on her face, for he suddenly moved behind her, his body big and warm as he placed an arm around her waist, drew her up against him, and at the same time covered her mouth with his hand. “Sorry, Butterfly. This is for your own good.”

She had hardly a moment to realize what he was doing before he hauled her into a darkened recess along the side of the house.

Imogen’s heart began to pound wildly. “Let me go!” she tried to shout, but her words were completely muffled while his hand remained pressed to her mouth, and his muscled arm held her pinned to his hard body.

“I am going to take my hand away now,” he said calmly, “but you must promise not to scream. I am also going to ease my hold on you. Do not run away from me, Imogen. This is too important. I know I scared you just now. I am truly sorry for that, but you scared the wits out of me, too. What if the killer had been lurking in the bushes? I would have lost you. Do you think I could ever live with myself if this happened?”

She stopped fighting him.

He removed his hand from her mouth.

She turned and punched him in the arm the moment he released her. “That was a horrible way to teach me a lesson! But…I’m sorry, Draco,” she whispered brokenly. “I thought I was safe.”

“I know, Butterfly. My heart shot into my throat when I saw you out here and realized how alone you were.”

She nodded. “I’ll be more careful from now on. Goodness, I cannot find the strength to stand on my own two feet.”

“Blast, I shook you up badly. You’re trembling.” He tucked an arm around her and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I should have used a softer tactic to make my point.”

She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

He cast her a wry smile. “Instead of scaring you by threatening to abduct you, I could have shown you how easy it was to kiss you. You would have been helpless to stop me for that, too. But you would have enjoyed it far better.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You would kiss me even though you are terribly angry with me?”

He cast her a devastatingly appealing smile, his features softened in the glow of moonlight. “Being angry with you and wanting to kiss you are not mutually exclusive. Sometimes anger heightens the thrill of a kiss.”

“It does? I do not see how.” Not that she had any experience with such things. “I would never wish to be kissed in anger.”

He caressed her cheek. “How would you wish to be kissed, Butterfly?”

“In love, of course. Why else, if not that?”

A groan escaped his lips. “Lord, what you do not know about men could fill an entire library. Men do not think that way.”

“Why not? Would you not prefer to put your whole heart into a kiss and have it mean something special?”

“No, Imogen. It is the last thing I would want. Why are you looking so surprised? Are you really that innocent?”

She wanted to punch him again. “Who says I am innocent?”

“You give yourself away with your every comment. Men do not care if they are in love or not when they kiss a woman. In truth, they rarely are in love and prefer it that way. Fewer complications.”

“Perhaps for the man, since he can walk away and ignore the consequences unless the young lady’s family is powerful enough to insist on his making it right. But if the woman has no family to protect her, what is she to do? I am not a ninny. I understand what kisses can lead to.”

“I never said you were a ninny.” He gave her cheek another light caress. “In truth, you are quite clever. But not about everything. You do not know the first thing about kisses.”

He no longer appeared angry with her.

His expression turned surprisingly tender. No one had ever looked at her in this amorous way before, as though he wanted to possess her and at the same time protect her. There was a smolder in his silver eyes.

She shivered, even though he was looking upon her with undeniable heat. It was a nice look… Well, perhaps more wicked than nice, because he had an eyebrow arched and a melting smile that was quite exciting. Her head was spinning and her breaths came in quick spurts. She could hardly put a coherent thought together.

“Um…is there a secret to kisses I should know about?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Imogen, has no one ever kissed that beautiful mouth of yours?” He inhaled sharply in response to her prolonged silence. “Blessed saints, would I be the first?”

Her cheeks turned embarrassingly hot. “What makes you think I would ever permit you to kiss me?”

His smile was arrogant, yet his expression remained surprisingly tender. “Because you know it would be the best kiss you ever received in your entire life.”

She gasped. “Is there no limit to your arrogance? Are you that confident I will like it?”

“Not a doubt.” His roguish smile faded as he continued to regard her. When he spoke, it was with surprising sincerity. “The problem is, I might feel the same way about our kiss.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

Imogen shook her head, now completely confused. “I would not worry about it if I were you. You are experienced and unlikely to be swept away by kissing me. But as for me, a kiss ought to be special and meaningful. What is the point otherwise?”

She sighed and continued, “You are afraid that you will melt my heart and then I might trail after you like a lovesick goose. I think our conversation has gotten a little out of hand. You have made your point about my safety and should walk away now. Then I will no longer be with you, and we shall no longer be thinking about kissing each other.”

“This is where you are wrong, Imogen. I cannot walk away from you even though I know I should. And I will never stop thinking about kissing you. That’s the problem with a curiosity left unfulfilled. It becomes an obsession if not satisfied.”

“Mere curiosity, is it?” She squared her shoulders and met his potent gaze. “You do realize there is a simple solution to your problem.”

A slow smile spread across his lips. “Are you suggesting I kiss you?”

“Yes, to appease your curiosity…and mine, frankly. I have always dreamed of kissing a pirate.”

“Imogen, I am not a pirate.” But he gave her no chance to disagree before gathering her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers in a slow, grinding motion that felt languid and unrushed, and yet shot sparks through her.

The kiss started out gentle, his lips barely grazing hers. But he steadily increased the pressure, as though easing her into the kiss…much like wading into the water. A toe first. Then an ankle. But the heat she felt rippling through her body was no gentle swim. He seemed to read her response and sense her growing urgency. She felt his smile against her lips as he suddenly plunged deeper, moving his velvet mouth against her lips with greater insistence, the kiss increasingly deep, slow. Molten.

Dear heaven.

She clutched his shoulders.

He felt so good.

Hot and muscled and good.

Her body tingled and then turned to liquid fire, little sparks erupting in shocking places, making her senses tumble out of control. But this was her—she always felt too much. Her blood was now a molten river of heat, but her heart… Oh, her heart was a blaze of fireworks. She pressed against him, melted against his vibrant heat, and suddenly, nothing seemed to matter but the two of them spinning in a reckless whirl.

The kiss was no longer tame.

He lured her and teased her, scorched her with the delicious crush of his lips and the iron strength of his arms that cradled her so tenderly.

“Blessed saints, my sweet butterfly,” he murmured, groaning as he started to draw away. Then, to her surprise, he lowered his head to hers again and kissed her with the same devouring fire that made her lose herself to him in the first instance.

She tried to mimic his actions, hoping to make him feel this same fiery fervor.

Was she doing it right?

Perhaps she was, for every inch of her was pasted to the length of him, and it still was not enough for either of them.

She felt everything in his kiss… She felt too much. His passion and his hunger. His ache to possess her, and his ache to protect her.

He held her with such tenderness, such heat.

This pirate certainly knew how to kiss.

He drew away suddenly and simply stared down at her, his expression one of confusion, and perhaps there was more than a little horror mingled with it. Had their kiss been too awkward for him? Truly, he had the oddest look on his face.

She was still reeling from the heaven of his kiss and did not know what to say as the silence stretched between them.

Fortunately, he spoke first. “Imogen, did I hurt you? I know you have never been kissed before, and I meant to be gentle.”

She nodded.

Yes, he was gentle.

Flames-of-a-volcano hot, and yet still gentle.

What had he just asked her?

“I am such a fool,” he said with an ache to his voice. “I owe you an apology. Sincerely. You have the sweetest mouth. So lush and soft. I should have realized how delicate you were and been more careful. Of course, you are a little butterfly. How can you be anything but beautiful and fragile?”

She put a hand over his heart, feeling its strong, steady beat while hers was in a rampant and erratic roil. “It was a perfect kiss, my lord. Not too soft and not too hard, but exactly as it should have been. You did not hurt me. There, we ought to be pleased. I got my pirate’s kiss, and you now have your curiosity appeased. It is done. And it was nice.”

“Merely nice?”

She shook her head. “It was splendid.”

“Yes, it was,” he said with a seductive rasp to his voice. “But we are far from done.”

This man certainly knew how to confuse her. “There is more?”

“Yes. Gad, you are delicious. Are you real, Imogen?” He groaned. “I like you, but that is not a good thing. I cannot afford to like you just now. For your sake, I had better see as little of you as possible.”

She felt as though someone had suddenly poured ice water over her head. “Oh, is this how it works? A kiss for a foolish girl to dream on, and then I am dismissed. Thank you for enlightening me to the ways of a rakehell. I should have known you were no better than Driscoll and his lot.”

“Never compare me to those bounders,” he said, sounding hurt and insulted.

What gall! How dare he pretend to be the one bruised.

“I am not dismissing you,” he insisted. “There is a difference between dismissing you and wanting to keep you safe. My concern is the latter. Driscoll is dead. There is a murderer on the loose. And if this murderer meant to come after me, as you yourself suggested, then I do not want you anywhere near me when he does.”

Well, that made sense. Still, it hurt. “What about the danger to you?”

“I have not ruled it out,” he said, raking fingers through his hair. “But I know how to defend myself.”

Yes, she had no doubt of it.

He had the muscles and quick reflexes to prove it… Dear heaven, those divine muscles of his were hard to overlook. His body was chiseled out of glorious rock.

After a moment, he sighed and took a step back. “Imogen, you heard me threaten Driscoll earlier, yet you have not mentioned it to anyone. You seem convinced of my innocence. Why is that? I could have stabbed him after Parrot ran out and I went after him.”

“No, it was never a consideration. Parrot was responding to the murder already taking place. Driscoll’s friends were already running off by the time you got out there. Perhaps they killed him, or saw who did it, or found him dead and ran off scared.” She studied him closely. “It is obvious you came upon him after the fact.”

He let out a breath and smiled at her. “I’m glad you trust me, Butterfly.”

“I trust you about the murder, but that is as far as it goes. I’ve learned my lesson about trusting arrogant, rakish earls.” Quite a hurtful lesson, but she hoped her expression hid just how badly he had hurt her.

“Your family is coming out of the house,” he muttered, and called to Parrot, who came bounding out of the bushes with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he happily scampered to Draco’s side.

Imogen started to turn away, but Draco caught her gently by the wrist. “Imogen, I am not discarding you. I just don’t know what I am to do with you. It is not at all the same thing.”

She drew her hand out of his grasp. “Actually, it is completely the same thing. Why deny it?”