Andrew reached for her hand and led her to Matteo. “Lady Scarlet Cavendish, this is Comte Matteo Durand.”

Matteo’s voice caught and then he cleared his throat; taking her hand in his, he bowed over it, kissing her knuckles while looking up into her face. “A pleasure.” Matteo hoped he sounded more gallant than he felt. The beauty of the woman now standing in front of him was unmatched in any of his acquaintance. His thoughts whirled around him, not stopping long enough to be recognized. A thrilling tightness spread across his chest. Her dark hair complemented her lovely creamy skin, of which he had an ample view down her flawless neck and across her neckline. Diverting his eyes, he grinned into her face.

Lady Scarlet Cavendish opened her mouth and closed it, a blush heightening her color. Then she laughed—a beautiful musical sound—and said, “This will be a much more delightful assignment than I imagined.”

Matteo frowned. “Assignment?”

One side of Andrew’s mouth lifted and his eyes twinkled. “Yes, Lady Cavendish has agreed to ride with you in her carriage out the gates of Paris. We hope our planned deception will distract long enough for escape. You are destined for a picnic in the country with your newfound love.” With his head, Andrew indicated Lady Cavendish.

She clasped her hands in front of her body and rocked back and forth on her feet. “Yes, well, as I said, a delightful assignment.” Her eyes sought Matteo’s, searching their depths. He felt his heart speed up as he sensed his soul bare to her. He wondered what she saw and hoped she approved.

After a moment, she said only, “Shall we?”

Was she married? He thought he remembered mention of a Rupert Cavendish, an obscenely wealthy lord or other in England. She must be his wife, but she wore no ring.

Although dangerously enticing, one thing disturbed him about the arrangement.

“I cannot allow you to aid in this manner, my lady. Perhaps you do not understand. Your life will be at great risk . . .”

Andrew coughed, covering his mouth with his hand and turning away.

Lady Cavendish’s eyes sparkled up at Matteo. “I find I do not mind. But I do believe we must be off. The carriage is here waiting.” And she gestured toward the front door.

He sat beside his new lovely accomplice and marveled at her courage. She appeared completely unruffled. “Why are you doing this?” he asked her profile.

She turned to him, and he was struck by the brilliance of her eyes, another pair of green eyes. Hers twinkled with fun and the strength of her kindness. She smiled up at him, and his brain clouded over.