Robert didn’t comment, but ushered him out into the hall and toward the front door. His fists were itching to plant themselves in Findlay’s face.

“I shall send you my bill, my lord,” Smithe said, pausing at the front door. Glancing back he raised one eyebrow. “To your proper address and not here, I imagine?”

“Yes. Please,” Robert said, opening the door for him.

“Very good.” Smithe nodded and then turned to step outside. Robert watched him go to his carriage, then closed the door and turned to head up the hall.

The parlor door was still closed, and he paused to take a breath and sort out what he would say before opening it. He had a distinct sense of déjà vu when he finally pulled the door open and found himself staring in at an empty parlor.

“Handers!” he bellowed, wheeling toward the kitchens.

Lisa stared at Charles with shock and horror as his words played through her head. “That Langley has bedded you?”

“Forgive me for being so blunt,” Charles said gently. “But it is rather obvious that’s what has happened.”

“How?” she asked with dismay.

Charles hesitated and then sighed. “Well, the way he looks at you has never been anything like filial. At first he watched you with a hunger only another man would recognize. But today, and the last time I saw you . . .” He paused briefly and said, “The day we had our picnic you were studiously ignoring him, but he could not take his eyes off you. His gaze roamed over you with the knowledge of a lover. And then, of course, I suspected something had happened the night you asked me to kiss you punishingly. You said he had kissed you as punishment, but it was more than a kiss, was it not?”

“Yes, but not—it was the next night that he—we—I—” She grimaced, and shook her head. “You may retract your proposal, my lord. I understand completely that you couldn’t possibly want me now that you know.”

“And yet I do,” he said wryly, and smiled at her startled expression. “Lisa, you are a very attractive woman. I had heard of you before I met you, but once I met you . . .” He shrugged. “I have wanted you ever since first seeing you that night at the Landons’ ball two seasons ago.”

When she shook her head and tried to sit back, he kept hold of her hands and said, “It’s true. I simply could not get you out of my head. All other women were faded pastels next to the vibrant crimson of your image in my memory. And I have spent a good portion of these last two years wishing I had snatched you up and run off to Gretna Green with you right there and then.”