“Lord Rosse?” That lady was now sitting across from him in his carriage and frowning in a most annoyed fashion.

“I beg your pardon, Lady Weston, I was pondering a problem. What was your question?”

“About Noble and this silly duel…”

Rosse blinked at her in surprise. “You know about the duel?”

“Of course I know about the duel; I was there when Noble challenged poor Lord Carlisle.”

“Ah. Well…ah…I don’t believe it’s customary to acquaint the wife of the duelist with the facts, my lady.”

“Regardless, you will. You are Noble’s second, are you not?”

“Yes, but—”

“Excellent. Then you must help me stop it.”

“I understood that most ladies find it pleasing for their honor to be the subject of a duel.”

“I am not most ladies, my lord.”

No, she certainly was not. Rosse couldn’t help but grin at her as she continued.

“I do not find the idea of my husband allowing another man to aim a pistol at him and fire a pleasant one, my lord, and I intend to move heaven and earth to make sure that he will not be in that position. Where and when is the duel to be held?”

Rosse shook his head. “I have not yet met with Lord Carlisle, my lady.”

“But it will be you who suggests a meeting time and place, will it not?”

“As Noble’s second, my first duty is to attempt to resolve the situation by means other than dueling.”

Gillian snorted a most unladylike snort. “You know Noble, and I assume you know Lord Carlisle—two more pigheaded, obstinate, proud men I’ve never seen. Neither will back down.”

“I am in agreement with you there, my lady. Assuming negotiations for a peaceable end to the challenge fails, then yes, I will suggest a meeting time and place.”

Gillian chewed on her lower lip as she pondered the situation, her brow furrowed in thought, her fingers absently twisting the beads on her midnight blue overdress. Suddenly her brow cleared, her eyes sparkled, and her mouth formed a charming smile.

Rosse was struck once again with a sense of rightness that she and Noble should have found each other. If only they could see how much love they had to offer each other, he thought, and voiced the question that rose to his tongue. “You have thought of something to put an end to the duel, my lady?”

“Yes, my lord, I do believe I have.”

“And that is…?”

“Better left unsaid to you, Lord Rosse, lest at a later time my lord accuse you of having a hand in it.”

Rosse spent the better part of the journey to Berkeley Square trying to convince her of the folly of whatever plan she had dreamed up, but it was to no avail.

Gillian needed desperately to see Charlotte. As the only person who knew she was investigating Noble’s past, Charlotte’s advice and help was invaluable, especially now when she had two immediate problems facing her—to find out what Lord Carlisle wanted, and to ensure that the duel did not take place. Since both items revolved around the same man, and threatened the health and happiness of her beloved husband, she felt herself perfectly within her rights to go against that husband’s wishes and meet with the very man he had ordered her to avoid. She wasn’t a fool, however, and knew that any meeting with Carlisle must take place in the presence of a witness to protect her reputation with both society and her husband. To be truthful, she didn’t care a fig about the former, but the latter concerned her greatly.