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have to avoid in the future as it hurt his head. “Obviously you have never been married, Miss Lawrence. Or known people who’ve been married.”
    â€œMy parents were married for almost twenty-five years, and absolutely devoted to each other.”
    He blocked the second snort quite handily. No one could accuse him of lacking self-preservation, except for a few hours ago when he let his chivalry run amuck. “You can’t know that.”
    â€œOf course I do!” she said, color bursting forth on her cheeks. “How can you insult people you don’t even know?”
    â€œWell. My parents were married for decades, too, and I assure you they were not faithful to each other. Perhaps at first, but familiarity breeds contempt, in my opinion.”
    â€œWhat a wretched thing to say. You are a cynic, sir. There are thousands—millions—of happily married couples all over the world. Look at Lord and Lady Raeburn.”
    His brother had been married four months. What would four years bring?
    Although, Nick reflected, he wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Alec’s wife Mary. She wasn’t very big, but then neither were wasps, and their sting could be deadly.
    â€œDo you really think it is natural for a man to content himself with one woman his whole life?”
    â€œOf course, if there is love.”
    â€œAnd what is love, Miss Lawrence?” He was enjoying this conversation, although similar ones had always been accompanied by many bottles of wine, which made his friends far more amusingly philosophical than without them.
    â€œLove is—love is respect,” Miss Lawrence stuttered.
    â€œI respect the King, but I don’t wish to marry him,” Nick returned, all reason.
    Blue eyes flashed. “Well, I don’t respect him! He has not held to his wedding vows.”
    â€œGood grief, Miss Lawrence, do I harbor a traitor to my bosom? You have such a pretty neck. It would be a great pity to have any harm befall it.”
    Her hand went involuntarily to the plain banded collar under her stubborn chin. “I don’t think I’ll lose my head for speaking my mind in confidence.”
    â€œYou trust me? You shouldn’t, you know. I’m quite a villain. Ask anyone.” Some people thought so, at any rate. It was an image he’d cultivated since he’d grown out of short pants. The youngest of three boys had to make his mark somehow, and Nick had been happy to live down to certain expectations.
    â€œDid the man you fought with tonight think so?”
    â€œOh, if anything,
he
was the villain. A great brute and bully.”
    â€œReally,” she said, looking smug, “you men needn’t prove your superiority with your fists—it’s very juvenile. A woman would never think to solve a problem through physical aggression.”
    Huh. Showed how much she knew. Nick had witnessed numerous catfights amongst his model and courtesan friends, replete with hair-pulling, kicking, and world-class swearing. Should he bother to tell her why he’d gone to Cross’s flat? Nick didn’t care what this little fuss-box thought of him.
    Not much.
    â€œMiss Lawrence, you are jumping to conclusions. It’s a very irritating trait. Remember, I’m an injured man. You’re supposed to be giving me succor.”
    â€œIf you are injured, it’s your own fault. Getting into a drunken brawl is not the mark of a true gentleman.”
    Oh, this was too much. If he didn’t have a headache to begin with, Miss Lawrence was bound to give him one. Such a self-satisfied little shrew—he had half a mind to toss her out on her very attractive—
    And then, his stomach lurched. It seemed he wasn’t safe with the tea after all.

Chapter 7
    Eliza was never so grateful as when Mrs. Daughtry arrived. The cheerful woman—almost annoyingly so for this hour—had already stripped Mr. Raeburn’s bedding, while he had