been taken in by a plausible rogue.’
Max made no attempt to hide his disbelief.
‘It wouldn’t be surprising,’ Ross said, ‘considering the kind of life she’s led. She’s by no means fly to the time of day. She’s been in mourning for years, remember, first for her husband and then for her father. And she was kept pretty close before that—married out of the schoolroom, by all accounts. Her husband never permitted her to come to town, you know.’
‘How on earth did you learn that?’
‘I have made it my business to find out,’ Ross replied with a rather satisfied smile. ‘While you were posting off to confront the wicked Baroness, I decided there might be subtler ways of handling the situation.’
Max nodded somewhat reluctantly.
‘There is plenty of speculation about your Baroness, Max. She may not have spent time in Society, but her aunt appears to be a gossip of the first order. Since the Baroness is a very wealthy woman, every gazetted fortune-hunter in London will be after her, I imagine. The Frenchman may well be one of them. Had you thought of that?’
Max ran an unsteady hand through his hair. ‘No, I hadn’t.’ He paused, thinking. ‘It’s more than possible, as you say, that the Frenchman is a fraud who means to trap her into marriage. She’s a wealthy prize—rich enough to set any man up. I should have thought of that. I’m afraid I have not been thinking straight at all since I met her.’
Ross looked at him in surprise. ‘So Captain Rosevale, the consummate tactician, is no more? Pity. I’m sure cold logic would be a better weapon than blind anger.’
‘You’re right, of course. As usual. And, for once, I shall take your advice to heart. We need to plan our assault like a military campaign. And the first thing we need is intelligence. What have your subtle enquiries discovered about the Frenchman?’
‘Unfortunately for us, he is playing his cards very close to his chest. I’ve found out where he comes from—somewhere near Toulon—but nothing more. If we are to smoke him out, we’ll need to do a deal more digging.’
Max nodded. ‘That means a trip to France. But I’m loath to leave London while that—while my dear cousin is in residence. Even if she has been duped—though she struck me as too strong-minded for that—she could create a great deal of mischief. I don’t think I can risk leaving the field to her.’
‘I don’t suggest that you should.’ Ross put a hand on Max’s shoulder. ‘Look, Max, there is no call for both of us to go. Provided you trust me to—’
‘Devil take it, Ross! You know very well—’
‘If you trust me with such a delicate mission, old friend, I will gladly go to France and do your spying for you.’ He laughed infectiously. ‘Could be quite like old times, eh? Creeping around among the Frenchies, trying to discover the lie of the land.’
Max smiled back. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from him. ‘I do believe you intended to go all along, you rogue.’
‘Yes, well, perhaps…’
‘Believe me, Ross, I am very much in your debt. There is no one else in the world I would permit to do this for me. You—’
‘I am nowhere near repaying everything that I owe you, Max, so I suggest you stop praising me to the skies. Besides, I’ve a notion that a trip through France would just suit me. What we saw of it last time was not exactly…ideal, was it?’
They exchanged a look of shared understanding. The memory was very real to them both. The whole of Wellington’s army had been glad to leave the Pyrenees behind and start across the French plain. Conditions had been harsh, for everyone, but the army had known that victory was almost within reach, after so many years of struggle.
‘I think I begin to envy you, my friend,’ said Max after a moment.
‘I am sure I have the easier task. I have only to make my way to the south of France and bribe my way to the information we need. Whereas you must brave the drawing rooms of the ton and this impostor’s nefarious schemes…and the matchmaking mamas, too, of course.’ Ross grinned. ‘You are become an eligible bachelor at last.’
‘You think you are jesting, Ross, but it is no joke, believe me. The acquisition of a title seems to change even a man’s appearance. When I was a mere Captain Rosevale, I had neither face nor fortune to commend me. I have little more by way of fortune now, heaven knows, but it appears that an unmarried earl will always be described as handsome by the ladies of the ton—especially those with unmarried daughters. I heard it with my own ears.’ He shuddered. ‘Downright nauseating.’
‘Don’t worry, Max. I promise to keep reminding you to look in the glass. Besides, if your impostor has his way, you will be plain Mr Rosevale again…in more senses than one.’
‘It does have its attractions, Ross. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.’
‘You are too modest, Max.’ Ross gave his friend a long appraising look. ‘And you are not ugly… Well, not really…’
Max grinned, refusing to rise to Ross’s bait.
‘More seriously, though,’ Ross continued, ‘I ought to warn you that your impostor really will turn the ladies’ heads. He is quite disgustingly handsome. And he has the manners to match, too, I’m afraid. I suppose we’re lucky he isn’t wearing regimentals. If he were, the ladies would be falling at his feet.’
Max grunted. It seemed the odds were stacked against him. He could rely on Ross to ferret out what information there was to the Frenchman’s discredit, but it would take time. Meanwhile, Max himself would have to find ways of undermining the man here in London. Or, if not the man, then the woman… That blasted woman! She—
He refused to let his temper rule him, this time. He must plan his next moves with the utmost care. If necessary, he must be all smiles and soft words. Logic and cold calculation were what he needed now. In hot blood, a man made mistakes.
And after all, Ross could well be right. She might be innocent of any wrongdoing. She might be the prey, not the predator.
‘If the Frenchman is after her money, will you protect her?’ said Ross, echoing Max’s unspoken thoughts.
‘I should, of course…’ Max had a mental picture of the silver-haired harridan with a temper as fiery as his own. ‘But, having met her, I doubt if she’d accept protection from me. I can’t force her to spurn him, can I?’
‘No. You’d have to marry her yourself to do that.’
‘That’s the second time you have suggested I marry Angelina Rosevale. What’s got into you, Ross?’
Ross shrugged eloquently.
Max thought back to that tempestuous encounter at the Abbey. He had not behaved well—and he knew it. She was only a woman, after all, and an unworldly one, into the bargain. She had neither husband nor brother to defend her. So it was his duty to do so.
His duty did not extend to marrying her!
‘After our recent encounter at the Abbey, I think I am the last man on earth that Lady Rosevale would marry. In fact,’ Max added, remembering her exact words, ‘I’m sure of it. She told me I was no gentleman. I’d have to drag her to the altar by the hair.’
Ross’s eyebrows rose. ‘I hadn’t thought of abduction. But now you come to mention it…’ He grinned wickedly.
Max raised his eyes to heaven. He knew better than to respond when Ross was in one of his rollicking moods.
‘As a matter of fact,’ said Ross after a moment, looking rather more solemn, ‘you would not need to resort to abduction. Much better to make the lady fall in love with you. She—’
‘Confound it, Ross, I—’
‘She wouldn’t be the