Portia went redder. “No. I…I didn’t try the front door.”
He smiled. “How enterprising! I’m charmed.” He reached past her to open the door she had been checking. “Please, come in where we can be more comfortable.”
He ushered her in before she could collect her wits, but Portia froze when she saw she was in his bedroom.
He looked at her rather quizzically. “I have no designs on your virtue. My private rooms are downstairs. Up here I have only this room and my dressing room.”
Portia stayed where she was, close to the door. “I came to see Lord Bryght.”
“Why? And, why in this manner? Forgive me for mentioning it, but your involvement with my brother has caused him some difficulty.”
“Myinvolvement withhim?”gasped Portia. “He has turned my life upside down!”
“Has he indeed? Then perhaps you are well rid of him. So what is your purpose here?”
Portia realized with a shiver that despite his courteous manner, the marquess was not best pleased with her. It was hardly surprising when she was the cause of a duel. “It isn’t my fault,” she said. “I only just found out about the duel and—”
“What duel?”
Portia took a step backward. “The one between Lord Bryght and the Earl of Walgrave. It is all a mistake though, or rather—”
“It most certainly is,” he said icily. “What is the cause?”
Portia swallowed. Logic told her this man would not really harm her, but her nerves were carrying another message. “Me,” she whispered.
He raised a brow. “The earl has an interest in you, too? What a remarkable woman you appear to be.”
Portia was red again, but this time with mortification. “I know I’m no beauty, my lord. The earl regards me as a sister.”
“And he feels his sister has need of defense? What have you been telling him?”
“Nothing. I haven’t been able to speak to him. The Trelyns have kept me prisoner and spread the most malicious lies.”
“Ah,” he said softly. “Do I detect the touch of the beauteous Nerissa?”
“She seems to hate Bryght. She wants him dead.”
“Then she should have chosen an opponent other than Walgrave.”
“I don’t think she chose him,” Portia admitted. “I think Fort chose himself. He’s somewhat hot-headed.”
“My dear Miss St. Claire, you appear to be two of a kind.” But the icy disdain had thawed. “Come, tell me what tales have been racing around Town. I’ve been engaged.”
Portia relaxed enough to move a little closer to the fire.
She flinched, however, when a pale shape there stirred. Then she saw it was a dog.
“That is Boudicca.” The dog waved a lazy tail. “Well, Miss St. Claire? The whole tale, please. I will not have this kind of debacle in my family.”
“Dueling is not so uncommon, I gather,” she said, trying to match his tone.
“It is within the family. Are you not aware that Lord Walgrave is our brother-in-law?”
Portia shook her head. “I had forgotten. He does not seem to feel warmly about you.”
“That has nothing to do with it. The cause of the duel, Miss St. Claire. The brothel?”
It was snapped at her like an accusation, and Portia’s gaze flew to his. “How did you know…?”
