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now had her suspicions about who had ordered her kidnapping and why, and it wouldn’t do for anyone to discover the real culprit.
    St. George rearranged the blanket around her and settled onto the opposite seat as the carriage rattled out of the courtyard and onto the road. Vivien sighed with relief. As grateful as she was for the stop—it had been a very long time since a visit to the necessary—she couldn’t wait to get back to London. The sooner she could put this entire experience behind her, the better.
    Except, of course, that she couldn’t. Not until she eliminated the threat to herself and to her family.
    St. George stirred across from her. “I wish you could have been allowed more time for a proper meal, but I couldn’t take the risk.”
    An odd little ache pulled tight in her chest. Vivien wasn’t used to anyone taking care of her, besides her brother’s servants, that is. St. George, however, went out of his way to attend to her comfort despite the trying circumstances. And when he looked at her as he did now, his handsome face somber with concern, she felt almost . . . cherished.
    “Actually, being able to stretch my legs and have a bit to eat felt like heaven,” she confessed. In her famished state, the hastily assembled plate of bread and cheese and the pot of tea had tasted like ambrosia.
    St. George nodded, his eyes fixed on her face. He studied her with a steady intensity, as if he wanted something. That look made her wary and embarrassed—wary because of the questions she sensed hovering on his tongue, and embarrassed because she looked a positive wreck. That she should worry about her appearance told her something, and it was something she’d better stop thinking about immediately.
    “My lady,” he finally said, “I must ask you a few questions while your memory of events is fresh.”
    Blast.
    His face remained impassive, his demeanor calm and watchful. She, on the other hand, was vibrating with nerves, and had to resist the impulse to fidget. Answering what were likely to be very intrusive questions—especially when her defenses were down—was dangerous, indeed.
    “You’re very tired, I know,” he said gently. “But it’s necessary. You must trust that I wouldn’t ask if that wasn’t so.”
    Mentally, she sighed. Might as well get it over with. If he strayed too close to what she suspected was the truth, she could always burst into tears and hope that put him off. Not that Vivien found it easy to turn on the waterworks, but she thought she might be able to make a credible job of it tonight, and without much prompting.
    “Of course, sir. I am entirely at your disposal,” she said in a hollow voice.
    His brows slanted up in an incredulous lift, and she heaved another mental sigh. She’d always been adept at hiding her emotions—a lesson learned at the card table—but St. George had a way of seeing past that. She didn’t like it one bit.
    “Very well. Let’s begin with the abduction itself.”
    He led her through the sequence of events. Although he encouraged her to describe everything in as much detail as she could recall, he treated her gently, never pushing her too far and always sensing the levels of her anxiety. It struck her once again that he was very good at what he did, and she found it hard to believe that the average army officer was anything like Aden St. George.
    Eventually, they reached her rescue itself. Nothing she’d recalled so far would lead St. George in any way back to her family or what she suspected were the true reasons for her abduction.
    He gave her an encouraging smile. “You’ve done very well, my lady. I have only a few more questions and then you can rest for the remainder of our journey.”
    She nodded, giving him permission to continue. Not that he needed it.
    “From what I’ve been told, you have many admirers and suitors in the ton. ”
    Vivien fancied she heard a note of disapproval in his voice. Heat prickled at the back of her neck, and