Braddon’s muffin-brain worked perfectly well in some situations. He yanked Madeleine into his arms so fast that she didn’t have time to shout for her father before Braddon’s mouth descended. And he kissed her while backing out of Gracie’s stall, thereby proving that he could do two things at once, a skill which several of his friends might have disputed.

Despite herself, Madeleine relaxed. Life had been so hard the last years. It was heaven to stand in the circle of Braddon’s arms. When he held her, it felt as if nothing evil would ever happen again.

She shook herself briskly, pushing hard at Braddon’s chest. He was whispering something in her ear—one of his fancy promises, no doubt. She got the main idea. Her bacon-brained suitor wasn’t a real suitor at all. He was what her mama, back in France, would have called a libertin. He wanted to ruin her and not marry her.

Braddon’s arms went around her shoulders again.

“Don’t look so sad, Madeleine.” He whispered that, but she heard it loud and clear. “I hate it when you look so sad.”

Perplexed, Madeleine paused for a moment, looking into Braddon’s blue eyes.

“I am not sad,” she said. “I only thought of my mother for a moment.”

“You looked sad,” Braddon persisted.

“I miss her,” Madeleine said despite herself. She didn’t want to share any emotional confidences with her immoral suitor.

Braddon kissed her ear. “Someday you will be a mother, Madeleine. You will have your own children, and then you will forget.”

Madeleine took a deep breath.

“Not if you have your way,” she pointed out. “You want to turn me into a courtesan, and those women never have children. They cannot afford them, given their way of life.”

Braddon grinned. Trust Madeleine’s hardheaded French common sense to point out that unusual disadvantage in the life of a courtesan.

“We’re going to have children,” he said confidently. “I knew we would as soon as I saw you. I never wanted little brats around, until I met you.”

Madeleine’s heart melted. He was just what she would like, this English lord, if only things were different. A bit light on top, perhaps, but with a truly sweet heart. And he was safe, trustworthy, and large. To Madeleine’s mind, men should be large. She could keep him from making too much of a fool of himself, too…. But no. She was not going to be any man’s courtesan, even if she stayed unmarried her entire life.

She pushed him away. “Go away, do!”

Braddon looked at Madeleine doubtfully. Her face had gone fierce again.

“I may have to leave for a few days.” Did she look sorry? Braddon could not fool himself that she did.

“Good. I shall finally get some work done.”

No, she definitely didn’t look sorry. There was a little pause.

“Where will you be?”

“I have to elope,” Braddon said. “That is, Lady Sophie wants to elope, but I don’t, so I’m going to climb up a ladder and get her, but then I’m not actually going to take her to Gretna Green, because I don’t want to elope. And besides, no one elopes in the middle of winter.”