DARE'S INSECURITIES

"Her headmistress suggested that it's my responsibility to find her a suitable husband," he said instead.

Dare's lips pursed, and then he stood, putting the glass back on the table before he looked down on his brother again. "And how do you intend to go about that? Anyone who served with you knows what Darlington did. None of your friends will even be civil to the girl."

"Including you?" Ian asked. "Rather old testament Val."

"Good God, you don't anticipate that I should have to meet her, do you?"

"Like it or not, she is my ward," Ian said simply. "You are my brother, and the head of this family. I don't see how you should avoid meeting her."

"I shall avoid it by the simple expedient of refusing to meet the daughter of the coward who almost cost my brother his life."

"She doesn't know any of that," Ian said.

"And you don't intend to tell her," Dare guessed.

"Would you?"

The silence stretched a moment, and finally Dare turned away from the bed and seated himself again in the chair. "Then what do you intend to do?" he asked.

Both the sarcasm and the anger had been wiped from his voice.

"I intend to find her a suitable husband."

"Does she have any assets that make her marriage-able?"

Ian thought about the girl he had brought back from the north, picturing her in his mind's eye. And as he did so, he attempted to divorce his unexpected and highly improper physical response from his judgement.

There was no doubt she was lovely and unspoiled. Unsophisticated as well, he acknowledged. And courageous beyond any woman he had ever known, with the possible exception of Dare's Elizabeth. Having avoided London society for the last few years, Ian wasn't sure, however, if any of those qualities, other than the first, would be considered an advantage there.

"Ian?" Dare prompted.

"Money, do you mean? Very little, I would imagine. The solicitor is still investigating the estate, but whenever Darlington had her usually gambled away."

"Looks?"

"She's...pleasant enough, I suppose," Ian said carefully, remembering that pale face in the moonlight, framed by strands of bedraggled hair. He had thought her incredibly beautiful at that moment, but then she had just saved his life, so he supposed he could not be considered entirely unbiased. "I'm not sure what type of beauty is currently in vogue."

"And what type does she possess?" Dare asked, his voice for the first time holding the familiar amusement with which he normally confronted the vagaries of life.

"She's tall. And rather slender. Her hair is...auburn."

At the last second Ian had avoided his original choice of words. As out of touch with the Beau monde as he might be, even he knew that redheads had not managed to take the town by storm in his absence.

"Her eyes are fine. Very speaking," he finished lamely, meeting the Earl's equally fine eyes, which were, without any doubt, also speaking. And Ian wasn't entirely sure he liked what they were saying.

"Good luck," Dare said.

"I shall need more than luck, Val. i shall need your help," Ian doggedly.

This was not a duty he had sought, nor one he wanted, but he couldn't fault the girl for her father's sins. He knew the narrow world to which they both belonged would, however, if that story got out. It was a world whose membership was determined strictly by birth, which Annie Darlington did possess. And it seemed that might be the only attribute she could claim that would have any meaning there.

"My help to do what?" Dare asked, the amusement gone. "Surely you don't mean my help to find her a husband?"

"To launch her into society, at least. I promised her headmistress she should have her chance."

"You promised her headmistress," his brother repeated disbelievingly.

"She should have her chance to make a proper marriage, one commensurate with her birth. And the only place that may be accomplished quickly, and at this late date, is in London."

"The season."

"Of course," Ian said.

"And what do you believe I can do for her there?"

Again there was silence in the room. By virtue of her own birth and title, Dare's countess certainly belonged to the world of the haute monde. Normally it would have been under her auspices that any young woman sponsored by the Sinclair family should be brought out.

However, the countess of Dare had forfeited her social standing in a cause as noble as the one her husband had undertaken. A cause which had cost Elizabeth her reputation. And the scandal that had erupted within the ton when Dare married her had not yet died down.

"If you are determined to embark on this venture, you may have the London house," Dare said, apparently answering his own question.