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in a little house somewhere, or settle a yearly stipend on you, but he just cast you out like a dog.
    â€œSo I started searching for you. My stepmother reluctantly gave me the address of your employment agency, and Mrs. Routledge referred me to the Bond Street shop. But the proprietor—a smarmy little man—said you’d thought yourself too good to work as a shop girl, so he’d dismissed you and didn’t know where you’d gone. I could see from his demeanor that he probably had made advances and been rebuffed.”
    Régine stared down at her hands. “Very perceptive of you.”
    â€œI continued my search all summer. I placed notices in The Times and several surrounding local newspapers.”
    She looked up, surprised. “I never saw them.”
    â€œI made inquiries among my father’s peers, but that proved fruitless.”
    â€œMy first protector was a City businessman who didn’t run in your exalted social circles.”
    â€œDismayed with my lack of success, I returned to Oxford to complete my studies. But I never stopped thinking of you.”
    His admission appeared to surprise her.
    â€œI even hired a private inquiry agent to widen the search. It was as though you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.”
    â€œActually, I did disappear for a time,” she said. “I retired to a cottage in a small Sussex village, posing as a virtuous young widow. I soon grew tired of the quiet, dull village life, especially when the vicar came courting.” She laughed, a rich, melodious tinkle. “The vicar and the courtesan…what would the good ladies of the parish think?”
    Darius smiled. She truly would’ve been a peacock among common barnyard fowl.
    â€œI returned to London and acquired several more protectors—”
    These nameless, faceless men filing through her boudoir brought on a sudden hot surge of jealousy.
    â€œâ€”and then decided to seek my fortune in Paris.”
    â€œMy inquiry agent finally picked up your trail and tracked you here.”
    She cocked her head and studied him out of those great, luminous eyes. “So you’ve spent years looking for me, a woman you met only twice. Why?”
    â€œBecause you haunted me,” he said quietly. “It’s like a form of madness that takes hold and won’t let go.” He told her about Oxford, his London townhouse and building his fortune. “I seem to have the Midas touch in that regard. But nothing could fill the emptiness.”
    He tried to read her expression to see if his admission moved her, but she kept her feelings well hidden.
    He smiled dryly. “Even other women couldn’t cure me.”
    She put her hand into her pocket. “Now that you’ve found me, does my profligate life of sin and vice shock you?”
    â€œIt only pains me because my father set you on this particular path.”
    â€œTrue, but I chose to stay on it. I’ve made my own choices, some good and others regrettably foolish. I could’ve remained in that village, living the life of a respectable widow, and perhaps marrying the earnest young vicar after all.”
    Darius burst out laughing. “Perish the thought!” His smile died. “You weren’t meant to wither away in some boring, sterile vicarage, Régine, dining on piety and good works. You deserve diamonds and champagne and nights at Maxim’s. You deserve a man who cherishes you.”
    â€œAnd who would that be, monsieur?”she asked softly.
    He grasped the back of the chair, feeling as tongue-tied as a schoolboy. “Me.”
    She looked at him as though he had just asked her to join him in a hot air balloon ride to the moon. “You can’t be serious.”
    He leaned forward. “Oh, but I am.”
    â€œMy, my, my, your lordship. What would your papa say to his son and heir possessing his former lover?”
    His jaw tightened. “Blackwall’s