Deception

Chapter 7

The lecture rooms of the Musgrave Institution were only sparsely filled for Mr. Blanchard's talk on travels in the West Indies.

"Not at all as large as the crowd that turned out for Mr. Elkins's wonderful discourse on his trip to the South Seas," a plump woman seated next to Olympia confided. "But then I fear Mr. Blanchard's manner of speaking is not nearly so entertaining as Mr. Elkins's."

Olympia could not argue with that. Mr. Blanchard was obviously a well-traveled man gifted with a highly observant eye but he lacked the first qualification for speaking in public. He failed to entertain his audience.

Olympia had attended the lecture with high hopes of gaining new information about the geography of the West Indies. It had become obvious from her reading of the Lightbourne diary that one of the keys to solving the puzzle was to locate the island Claire Lightbourne referenced, a small bit of land to the north of Jamaica.

She had attempted to explain that to Jared last night while they were sharing their evening brandies but, as usual, he had changed the subject.

Olympia, Jared, and the rest of the household, including Minotaur, had been settled in London for three days now. This was her first foray to an event sponsored by the Society for Travel and Exploration and she had been quite looking forward to it.

Unfortunately, Mr. Blanchard's dull talk was not holding her attention. She glanced down at the small watch pinned to her bodice and saw that it would be another half hour before Jared and the boys arrived to fetch her.

Jared. In the privacy of her thoughts she called him by his Christian name. The degree of intimacy that she felt growing between them made it impossible to think of him as Mr. Chillhurst. She was careful to address him properly by his last name whenever she spoke to him aloud, however.

It took considerable willpower to stay on formal terms when she was around him, though. Every time she encountered him in the hall or on the stairs, she was nearly overcome with a desire to throw herself into his arms. Their evenings together in her little study were becoming almost intolerable. Olympia did not know how much longer she could restrain herself.

Adding to the thrilling tension was the knowledge that Jared was forced to exert an equal amount of self-discipline whenever he was near her.

That very morning there had been another heart-stopping encounter in front of his bedchamber door. Olympia had been hurrying downstairs for breakfast, her vision obscured by a stack of journals and a globe that she was carrying. Jared had just stepped out into the hall.

The collision that had ensued had been an act of fate as far as Olympia was concerned. She even wondered if some small part of her had actually planned it. After all, she had known precisely when Jared would leave his bedchamber. He was a man who valued habit and routine. After three mornings of listening to his movements on the other side of the wall that separated them, Olympia knew that Jared went downstairs at the stroke of seven.

"Good heavens. I beg your pardon." Olympia had staggered and clutched at the globe as Jared had turned away from the door and walked straight into her path.

Even though she had come up on his blind side, his reaction had been swift and unhesitating. He had deftly caught the globe as it tumbled from her hands.

"Your pardon, Miss Wingfield. Did you sleep well?"

Olympia had been so riveted by the sight of him standing so close at such an early hour that she had had a difficult time answering the simple question. For a few seconds all she could do was gaze at him and wonder desperately if he would take the opportunity to kiss her.

"Yes, I slept very well, Mr. Chillhurst," she said, disappointed when he made no move to crush her mouth beneath his own. "And yourself?" How was she going to stand this every morning for an entire month? she wondered frantically.

"I do not have much time for sleep lately," Jared said. His gaze went to her lips. "At night my thoughts are filled with you, siren."

"Oh, Jared," Olympia breathed. "I mean, Mr. Chillhurst." An aching longing deep inside her made her feel curiously weak. "I think about you for the better portion of most nights, too."

Jared smiled his faint, slightly amused smile. "One of these nights we shall have to do something about our mutual problem or we shall never get any sleep."

Olympia's eyes widened in dismayed understanding. "Yes, of course, I am no doubt creating havoc with your schedule. I am sorry to interrupt your routine, sir. I know how important it is to you. I realize that it is crucial for reasons of health to get a proper night's sleep."

"I believe I shall survive, Miss Wingfield."

And then he had kissed her, right there in the hall. It had been a swift, stolen kiss taken after Jared had glanced about to make certain there were no young boys peeking out of their bedchambers.

When it was over, he had calmly carried the globe downstairs for her.

It seemed to Olympia that her lips were still tingling from the kiss. She straightened in her chair and tried to refocus her thoughts on the lecture.

Hunched over his notes on the lectern, Mr. Blanchard droned on in a monotone that had already put several members of the audience to sleep. "In addition to sugar, the islands in the West Indies export a variety of goods including tobacco, coffee, shells, and timber. They must, of course, import nearly every item deemed necessary to civilized living."

Olympia's mind began to wander again. She was here to learn about lost islands and legends, not imports and exports. To break the boredom she covertly examined the small group of people seated around her. Most were members of the Society for Travel and Exploration, which was sponsoring Mr. Blanchard's lecture. No doubt she had corresponded with some of them. She wondered how to go about introducing herself after the talk.

"Have you attended the other lectures in this series?" the plump woman whispered behind her gloved hand.

"No," Olympia admitted in a low voice. "I am a member of the society but I have only recently arrived in London. I have not had an opportunity to attend any of the public lectures until now."

"Pity you had to begin with this one. Mr. Duncan's talk on the Ottoman Empire was quite fascinating."

"I was looking forward to this lecture because I am especially interested in the geography of the West Indies."

The woman leaned closer. "Are you, indeed? So are Mr. Torbert and Lord Aldridge. You must meet them."

Olympia was delighted. "I should love to meet them. I have read their papers on the West Indies in the quarterly journal."

"They are both here today. Sitting on opposite sides of the room of course." The woman chuckled. "Expect you know that they are bitter rivals. Been feuding for years."

"Is that so?"

"I shall be happy to introduce you to them. But first allow me to introduce myself. I am Mrs. Dalton."

"I am Miss Wingfield of Upper Tudway in Dorset," Olympia said quickly. "So nice to meet you Mrs. Dalton."

Mrs. Dalton's eyes widened in pleased surprise. "Not the Miss Wingfield who writes those wonderfully interesting papers on legendary treasures and unusual customs of other lands?"

Olympia blushed. It was the first time anyone had actually complimented her on her work. No one in Upper Tudway even bothered to read the society's quarterly journal.

"I have written one or two articles of that nature, yes," Olympia said in what she hoped was a modest manner.

"My dear, this is quite exciting, not only for me, but for several other members of the society. As soon as Mr. Blanchard has finished his lecture, I must introduce you to everyone."

"That is very kind of you."

"Not at all, you are practically a legend yourself my dear Miss Wingfield. Why, Torbert and Aldridge were saying just the other day that they would not think of leaving England without taking along one or two of your papers to guide them in their travels."

"Posing as a tutor? Outrageous. What devilish game are you playing, Chillhurst?" Felix Hartwell slanted a glance that was half-amused and half-respectfully wary at Jared.

"I'm not at all certain I know the answer to that, Felix." Jared's mouth curved wryly. He kept his gaze on Ethan, Hugh, and Robert who were some distance away, struggling to get a new kite into the air.

The kite had been purchased shortly after they had all escorted Olympia to the Musgrave Institution. After seeing her safely inside the lecture rooms, Jared had taken the boys to a nearby park and sent a message around to Felix.

Felix had appeared within minutes. That was one of the many things Jared appreciated about his trusted man of affairs. Felix had the same respect for punctuality as Jared. They had worked well together over the years and Jared had come to consider Felix a friend, virtually the only one in whom he could confide.

Indeed, the two men were much alike in many ways, Jared acknowledged. They both had calm, unemotional—some said dull—natures. They shared a logical, pragmatic approach to both personal affairs and matters of business. Two men with the souls of tradesmen, as his father would say, Jared thought.

But things had changed recently. Jared wondered how Felix would react when he learned that his employer had become a helpless victim of passion.

Felix snorted. "I know you too well to believe that you do not know what you are doing and why, Chillhurst. You never do anything without forethought and planning. It is not in your nature to act on whim or fancy, sir."

"You see before you a changed man." Jared glanced at Felix and grinned briefly.

Felix stared back, amazed. Jared was not surprised. After all, he himself was still coming to grips with this new aspect of his personality. It was no wonder that Felix should be stunned and somewhat confused by the transformation.

Although he corresponded with him frequently, it had been several months since Jared had last seen his man of affairs in person. The last occasion had been when Felix had journeyed to Jared's home on the Isle of Flame off the coast of Devon in order to spend a fortnight reviewing Flamecrest business plans.

Jared rarely traveled to London. He much preferred the spectacularly rugged landscape of his island home to the shallow glitter of the city.

Although he saw him infrequently, it seemed to Jared that Felix changed little over the years. Felix was a man of the town and it showed in the softness of his hands and the fashionable cut of his coat. His friendly, open features concealed a shrewd intelligence that Jared valued highly.

"Changed? You?" Felix chuckled. "Not likely. I have never known a more deliberate strategist in my life. Working for you is like working for a consummate chess player. I cannot always envision how the moves will play out, but I have learned that you are always in command of the game."

"I am not playing chess this time." Jared watched, pleased, as the colorful kite took to the air. Ethan and Hugh cheered and started to run after Robert who was dashing off, string in hand. "Indeed, fate has made a helpless toy of me. I am rather like that kite at the moment. A creature born to ride the airy vapors."

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"You may as well know, Felix, I have surrendered to the powerful forces of raw passion."

"Raw passion? You? Chillhurst, you are talking to me, Felix Hartwell. I have been your agent here in London for nearly ten years. I know more about your business affairs and the way you manage them than anyone else on the face of the earth. I suspect I know more about you than anyone else, because we are alike in temperament."

"That is very true."

"It certainly is. And if there is one thing I know for certain about you, it is that you are not a man who is guided by passions of any sort. You are a paragon of self-control, sir."

"Not anymore." Jared thought of the kiss he had given Olympia that morning in the hall outside his bedchamber. A hot rush of pleasure went through him. Residing under the same roof as the object of his desire was proving to be the sweet torture he had envisioned. His only consolation was knowing that Olympia was suffering, too. "I have heard the siren's call and I am lost."

"Siren?"

"Otherwise known as Miss Olympia Wingfield."

"Sir, are you amusing yourself at my expense?" Felix asked bluntly. "Because if so, I wish you would have done with the jest."

"Alas, I do not jest." Jared had given Felix a brief summary of events but he had not bothered to explain the matter of the Lightbourne diary and how it had led him to Olympia. The diary, after all, had ceased to matter. "Do you know something, Felix? For the first time in my life, I begin to comprehend the antics of the members of my own family."

"Allow me to tell you, Chillhurst, that no one could comprehend the bizarre fits and starts of your family. No offense, but you are the only rational member of the clan and well you know it. You have told me so, often enough."

"Blood will tell, apparently." Jared smiled again. "Who could be rational and deliberate when one is swept by the flames of immoderate passions?"

Felix stiffened and inclined his head in a brusque, offended fashion. "My lord, I do not comprehend any of this. The thought of you masquerading as a tutor in order to pursue this odd Miss Wingfield is beyond belief. You are not the sort to develop immoderate passions."

Jared's humor faded. "I should make something clear, Felix. I do not want any of this to go any further. Miss Wingfield's reputation is at stake."

Felix shot Jared a quick, searching glance and then looked away. "After all these years, sir," he said very quietly, "I would hope that you could trust me not to reveal a confidence."

"Of course, I trust you," Jared said. "If I did not, we would not be having this conversation. Now, then, in addition to not revealing the fact that I am employed as a tutor to Miss Wingfield's nephews, I must ask you not to tell anyone that I am even in London."

Felix's expression sharpened with sudden comprehension. His eyes reflected a measure of what might have been acute relief. "Ah, then you are indeed involved in one of your infamously clever schemes. I knew it."

Jared saw no reason to explain himself further. Romantic passion was, after all, a private affair. "You will oblige me by keeping secret my presence here in town?"

"Of course." Felix's gaze narrowed thoughtfully. "As you almost never come to London and do not go about in Society when you do, no one is likely to ask after you."

"I assumed as much. I am also counting on the fact that very few people recognize me on sight."

"There is little risk of your being recognized by even the handful of people who do know you, sir." Felix's expression was wry. "You are obviously not planning to move in polite circles and no one would think to look for you in that small house in Ibberton Street."

"That little house is just what I wanted, Felix. It is a residence perfectly suited to the requirements of a family of modest means from the country. As long as I avoid the clubs and fashionable haunts, I should be able to move about London with complete anonymity."

Felix chuckled. "You could probably ride unnoticed in Hyde Park so long as you took your three young charges with you. People see only what they expect to see. I assure you no one will expect to see the Viscount Chillhurst acting as a tutor."

"Precisely." Jared was relieved that the intelligent, pragmatic Felix actually saw some logic to the crazed scheme. His own judgment, Jared knew, was no longer to be trusted. "We should all be quite safe."

Felix slanted him a questioning glance. "Safe from what, sir?"

"Disaster," Jared said.

"What sort of disaster?"

"Why, discovery, of course," Jared said. "There is always the threat of being found out in a situation such as this and I fear the consequences. It is much too soon."

Felix began to look concerned again. "Too soon, my lord?"

"Yes. Wooing a siren is a tricky business, Felix, and one in which I have had no experience whatsoever. I would not want the entire project to come crashing down around my ears before the proper groundwork has been laid."

Felix heaved a sigh. "If I did not know you better, sir, I would say that you have become as odd as the rest of your family."

Jared laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "A chilling thought."

"Indeed. No offense, my lord."

"Do not concern yourself, Felix. I am hardly likely to take offense at the truth. No one can deny that my family does have a certain reputation for producing Originals."

"Yes, sir." Felix hesitated. "Perhaps I should just mention one thing that you may wish to bear in mind."

"What is that?"

"Demetria Seaton is in town. She is Lady Beaumont now, you know."

"Yes, I know." Jared kept his voice even.

"I have heard that Lord Beaumont is in London seeking yet another cure for his small, but apparently rather persistent problem."

"Still cannot beget himself an heir, I take it?"

"It never ceases to amaze me how well informed you are, Chillhurst, considering the fact that you almost never come to town. You are quite right. The on dit is that Beaumont cannot even consummate his recent marriage."

"Indeed?" That fact was hardly likely to bother Demetria, Jared thought.

"Apparently even the presence of the lovely Lady Beaumont in his bed is not sufficient to help him overcome his impotence," Felix murmured.

"A pity. But I suspect that Lady Beaumont is not entirely unhappy with the situation," Jared said.

"Again, you have the right of it, according to rumor." Felix watched the kite dart about in the air overhead. "If Beaumont fails to do his duty by his title, Lady Beaumont will inherit his entire fortune."

"Yes." She would no doubt shower a good portion of the funds on her damnable brother, Gifford, Jared thought. Unlimited access to money would make him even more obnoxious.

Gifford was Demetria's only blood relative and she doted on him. As far as Jared was concerned, her over-protective attitude toward her younger brother had had the effect of turning him into a spoiled, willful, hotheaded rakehell who would likely one day get himself killed.

Jared grimaced as he recalled the evening three years ago that Gifford had issued a challenge. The demand to meet for pistols at dawn had come less than an hour after Jared had ended his engagement to Demetria.

Gifford had been beside himself with fury. He had claimed that Jared had humiliated his sister and he had demanded satisfaction.

Jared had refused, of course. After all, he had still been a logical, reasonable man in those days and he had reacted accordingly. He had seen little point in risking his neck or young Gifford's in a duel that would resolve nothing.

His refusal to meet Gifford on the field of honor had only served to further enrage the younger man. Gifford had labeled him a coward.

"As Beaumont is nearly seventy and in poor health," Felix said, "there is every likelihood that his lady will find herself a very wealthy widow at any moment."

"Especially if Beaumont hastens his own demise by too much vigorous activity spent pursuing a course of treatment for impotence."

Felix smiled coolly. "It will be interesting to see if Beaumont finds a cure for what ails him."

"I wish him the best of luck," Jared said.

"You do?" Felix glanced at him with ill-concealed surprise. "I would have thought that you might be interested to hear that Lady Beaumont may soon be a free woman."

Jared shrugged. "Her freedom, or lack of it, is no longer a matter of concern to me."

"No? She is more beautiful than ever, I am told. And the rumors of a lover died down long before Beaumont married her."

"Did they?" Jared asked without much interest. The subject of Demetria's lover was one of the few topics he had never discussed with Felix. Jared had, in fact, not discussed it with anyone at all.

He knew there had been speculation after he had abruptly ended the engagement, but he had refused to acknowledge the gossip.

"If Lady Beaumont has a paramour these days," Felix continued, "she does an excellent job of keeping him out of sight."

"She would need to do so," Jared said coolly. "Beaumont would hardly countenance his wife having a lover when he, himself, has not yet managed to procure an heir."

"True enough." Felix paused. "Regarding the other matter."

"Nothing new has turned up, I presume?"

Felix shook his head. "I fear I have not uncovered any more information. It must have been the vessel's captain who arranged the fraud. He was the only one who could have done it."

"I would prefer to have proof before I dismiss him."

Felix shrugged. "I understand, sir, but in cases of this sort, it is almost impossible to discover proof. That is the difficult thing about matters of embezzlement. Very hard to follow the trail."

"So it would seem." Jared watched the kite soar and listened to Ethan's and Hugh's cheerful shouts of encouragement. "Let us wait a while longer, Felix. I am not prepared to take action against the captain just yet."

"As you wish, sir."

"Bloody hell," Jared said softly. "I do not like this business of being deceived. I do not care to play the fool."

"I am well aware of that, sir."

There was a moment of silence while both men watched the boys and their kite.

Jared slipped his watch out of his pocket and noted the hour. "You must excuse me, Felix. I have an appointment soon and I fear it will take some time to persuade my charges to bring their kite back to earth. I must be off."

"As you wish, Chillhurst. I am available, as always, in the event that I am needed."

"I do not know what I would do without you, Felix." Jared inclined his head in farewell and set off across the park to collect Ethan, Hugh, Robert, and the kite. It was almost four o'clock, time to fetch Olympia from the Musgrave Institution.

It took Jared nearly twenty minutes to collect the boys, the kite, and a hackney. He glanced at his watch twice as the hired carriage clattered through the crowded streets.

Robert tore his glance away from the fascinating sights outside the hackney's window. He saw Jared slip his watch back into his pocket for the second time. "Are we going to be late, sir?"

"I trust not. With any luck the lecture will carry on longer than anticipated."

Ethan kicked his heels against the bottom of the seat. "May we have another ice after we fetch Aunt Olympia?"

"You've already had one ice this afternoon," Jared said.

"Yes, I know, but that was hours ago and I am quite warm again."

"I'll wager Aunt Olympia would fancy an ice, sir," Hugh said with an altruistic expression that did not fool Jared for a moment.

"Do you think so?" Jared pretended to ponder the issue.

"Oh, yes, sir." Keen anticipation filled Hugh's innocent gaze. "I am certain of it."

"We shall see what she has to say about it." Jared glanced out the window. "We have arrived. Do you see your aunt?"

Ethan leaned out the window. "There she is over there. She is surrounded by several people. I'll wave to her."

"No, you will not," Jared said. "One does not hail a lady in that fashion. Robert will find her and escort her back to the carriage."

"Right you are, sir." Robert opened the cab door and jumped down onto the pavement. "I'll be back in a moment."

"Do not forget to take her arm," Jared said.

"Yes, sir." Robert hurried across the street.

Jared closed the door and sat back against the cushions. He watched Robert's progress through the small crowd in front of the Musgrave Institution's lecture rooms.

Felix was right, Jared thought. People saw what they expected to see and no one in the Society for Travel and Exploration was likely to recognize the Viscount Chillhurst. As far as Jared knew, he was not personally acquainted with any members of the society. Nevertheless, it never hurt to be cautious.

"I did not know that Aunt Olympia had so many friends in London," Ethan said.

"Neither did I," Jared muttered. He studied the two men standing closest to Olympia. One was so heavy that he was nearly bursting his stays. The other was just the opposite; so thin that he appeared to have been fasting for the past several months.

Both were hanging on to Olympia's every word, Jared noticed.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Hugh asked anxiously.

"No, Hugh, nothing is wrong." Jared kept his voice calm and reassuring. He was aware, as always, that Hugh was easily overset by the possibility that his fragile new life with Olympia might be shattered again.

But there was no getting around the fact that Olympia was thoroughly enjoying her conversation with her new cronies.

Jared watched as Olympia spotted Robert and turned toward the carriage. He saw the glowing enthusiasm on her expressive face and felt a stab of annoyance. That look had been inspired by the conversation with the two men at her side.

So this was jealousy, he thought with a jolt of surprise.

It was a most unpleasant sensation.

Jared tried to be philosophical about the matter. After all, a man who sailed the senses on the vapors of passion was no doubt doomed to learn the dark side of such a reckless voyage.

"Here she comes." Ethan bounced up and down on the seat. "Do you think she will want an ice?"

"I have no notion. Ask her and see." Jared leaned forward and pushed open the cab door. He watched approvingly as Robert practiced his manners by handing Olympia gallantly up into the carriage.

"Thank you, Robert." Olympia sat down next to Jared. Beneath the brim of her chip straw bonnet her eyes were sparkling with excitement. "I hope you have all had a lovely afternoon."

"We flew a kite in the park," Ethan said. "It was great fun."

"Do you want a nice, cold ice, Aunt Olympia?" Hugh asked ingenuously. "I expect that it would taste ever so good on such a warm day."

"An ice?" Olympia smiled at Hugh, momentarily distracted. "Yes, that sounds delightful. It was quite warm in the lecture rooms."

Everyone looked at Jared.

"I can see that there is a consensus here," Jared said. He raised the trap in the carriage roof and gave the coachman orders to take them to the nearest respectable shop that sold ices.

"I am so excited by what I have learned today," Olympia said to him as he reseated himself. "I cannot wait to get on with my study of the diary."

"Indeed," Jared muttered with a carefully cultivated air of polite boredom.

The bloody diary could rot, he thought. What he really wanted to know was how much Olympia liked her newfound friends.

Jared did not get the full tale until much later that evening, primarily because Ethan, Hugh, and Robert could not stop talking about their adventures in London.

That did not bother Jared. There would be time enough to hear all the particulars after Mrs. Bird had retired to her quarters and the boys were in bed.

The fierce torment of these late evenings spent closeted alone with Olympia was equalled only by the anticipation of how they would ultimately conclude. He did not think that Olympia could resist the glittering sensual tension that crackled between them for much longer. He knew that he certainly could not.

When the household had quieted down for the night, Jared shut Minotaur in the kitchen and went in search of Olympia. He knew precisely where to find her in the small house.

She looked up from the Lightbourne diary when he walked into the study. Her eyes were very bright and her smile was filled with a warmth that made Jared's blood run hot. The thought that he could have gone his whole life without ever experiencing this powerful emotion was enough to send a chill down his spine.

"There you are, Mr. Chillhurst." Olympia marked her place in the diary with a small strip of decorated leather. "I see we have peace and quiet at last. I honestly do not know how we got along without you."

"The problem was that your household lacked an orderly routine, Miss Wingfield." Jared walked over to the table that held the brandy decanter. He picked up the bottle and poured two glasses. "Now that such a routine has been established, everything is under control."

"Do not underestimate your contribution, sir," she said as he carried the brandy glasses to her desk. "You have done much more than merely establish a routine." She looked up at him with glowing admiration as she accepted one of the glasses.

"I try to earn my salary." Jared took a sip of the brandy and wondered if he would drown in her lagoon-colored eyes. "What did you learn today that got you so enthused?"

Olympia looked briefly disconcerted, as if her thoughts had gone in another direction entirely for a moment. She recovered immediately. "I know that you are not particularly interested in my study of the Lightbourne diary, sir."

"Mmm." Jared kept his voice noncommittal.

"I told you that I needed to consult some new maps."

"So you said."

"Well, I now have access to such sources." Excitement lit Olympia's eyes. "Not only does the society maintain an excellent library with a very large collection of maps, but certain members of the society have offered to let me view their personal collections."

Just what he had feared. Jared recalled the two men who had been hovering over Olympia outside the Musgrave Institution. "Which members?"

"Mr. Torbert and Lord Aldridge. Apparently their personal libraries contain many charts that deal with the West Indies."

"Have you told them about your quest?" Jared asked warily.

"No, of course not. I merely told them that I was very interested in the geography of the islands."

Jared frowned. "I suppose they know that you are a student of legends."

"Yes, but there is no reason why they should think I was searching for the treasure mentioned in the Lightbourne diary," Olympia assured him. "I have told no one about my interest in that particular legend."

"I see."

"Mr. Chillhurst, I know that this topic bores you and as it happens, I wish to discuss something else tonight."

"What is that, Miss Wingfield?"

"It is difficult to put into words." Olympia got to her feet and walked around the edge of her desk. She went to stand near the globe. "I fear you will think me overbold. And, indeed, you will be correct in that assumption."

Jared felt his lower body tighten in anticipation. "I could never think you overbold, Miss Wingfield."

Olympia put her fingertips on the globe and slowly began to rotate it. "First, I wish to thank you for making it possible for me to pursue my studies of the Lightbourne diary."

"I had little to do with that."

"That is not true. If you had not seen to the disposal of that last shipment of goods from my uncle, I would never have been able to afford this visit to London. And if you had not dealt with Squire Pettigrew, I would have been forced to abandon my studies in favor of whisking my nephews out of his reach. Regardless of how you look at it, we are here in town and I am free to do my research because of you."

"I trust you will find what you are searching for here in London."

Olympia spun the globe a little faster. "Even if I do not find the treasure mentioned in the diary, I shall not complain, sir. I have already found more than I had ever dreamed of finding because of you."

Jared went very still. "Have you?"

"Yes." She did not look at him. Her attention remained fixed on the spinning globe. "Sir, you are a man of the world. You have traveled widely and viewed strange customs firsthand."

"I have some experience of the world, yes."

Olympia cleared her throat with a small, discreet cough. "As I have often explained, I, too, am a woman of the world, sir."

Jared slowly set down the brandy glass. "Miss Wingfield, what are you trying to say?"

She looked up from the rotating globe. Her eyes were brilliant with desire. "As a woman of the world, sir, I would like to ask you a question which I wish you would answer as a man of the world."

"I will make every attempt to do so," Jared said.

"Mr. Chillhurst." Olympia's voice cracked slightly. She broke off and tried again. "You have given me some reason to believe that you might consider involving yourself in a romantic liaison with me while you are engaged as a tutor in this household. Am I mistaken?"

Jared felt the last, ragged remnants of his self-control turn to ash in the roaring flames of passion. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the desk on either side of himself.

"No, Olympia, you are not mistaken. I would be quite willing to consider such a liaison provided that you cease addressing me as Mr. Chillhurst."

"Jared." She whirled away from the madly spinning globe and flew across the room, straight into his arms.