They call him the Devil Earl-a scoundrel and accused murderer who grew up on the violent London streets. A proper young lady risks more than her reputation when consorting with the roguishly handsome Hero Fiennes Tiffin , but Lady Josephine Langford...
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The coach came to a stop outside Hero's ancestral residence the following night, long after dark. The footman opened the door
"Stay here," Hero ordered.
"I'll not be bullied—"
He sighed with impatience. "Josephine, do you trust me?"
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life," he said.
Oh, dear Lord, she'd not expected him to place that burden on her. What was she doing here? How had she brought them to this moment?
"I think things between us would go much better if you'd simply explain the reason for your orders," she told him. "I don't mean to be difficult, but I don't want to be kept in the dark either."
"Very well. I'm going to send most of my servants to the village for two reasons. I want them out of harm's way and it'll increase the likelihood of preserving your reputation, so I need you to stay hidden until they're gone. A butler and a few footmen are all who will stay behind."
Nodding, she settled back. "I shall wait patiently like a good little girl."
He chuckled low. "I have a feeling you've never been good a day in your life."
Before she could castigate him for that erroneous assessment of her, he'd disappeared out the door. He'd not allowed her to be seen at any of the inns where they'd stopped to change horses and purchase food. He always bought an inordinate amount of food as though he had several people to feed. If Avendale stopped where they'd stopped, if he made inquiries, he'd think Amelia was in the coach. Amelia and Whit.
He would be furious when he discovered he'd been duped.
Josephine heard the whinny of horses and the rumble of carriage and wagon wheels. She supposed the servants would use whatever means possible to travel to the nearby village. She'd not meant to put everyone out. But Hero was right. They would be safer there.
The minutes dragged slowly by. Finally, she heard movement in the boot and assumed the footman was gathering Hero's satchel and hers. The door opened, and she released a tiny squeal.
"Are you all right?" Hero asked, and she thought she detected humour in his voice.
"Yes, quite."
He held out his hand. "Come on, then."
She put her hand in his, felt his strong fingers close around hers, and all her doubts and worries dissipated. This was Hero. He'd survived much worse than a cad like Avendale. Together they would see that Amelia was safe forever.
She stepped out of the coach. Although she could only see the silhouette, she could tell that his residence was grand. She placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to escort her with the footman scurrying ahead with their bags.
