“A gentleman doesn't like to talk about how serious he is.”

“Yes, I know.” She sighed. “You like to talk of cards and hounds and horses and how much money you lost at the faro table the night before. I've yet to meet a truly responsible gentleman. Aside from my dear father, of course.”

“We're not all so bad as that,” he said, turning around to press James to help defend their gender. But James had disappeared.

“What happened to the marquis?” Caroline inquired, craning her neck.

“Damned if I know.” His face colored as he remembered his manners. “Pardon my language.”

“You didn't seem to have a problem cursing in front of Carlotta De Leon.”

“The real Carlotta De Leon, I imagine, could teach me a thing or two about cursing.”

“I'm not as delicate as I look,” she said with a shrug. “My ears aren't going to burn up at the occasional use of the word damn. Lord knows my tongue hasn't fallen off for saying it.”

His lips reluctantly curved into an honest smile. “Are you saying, Miss Caroline Trent, that you are not every inch a lady?”

“Not at all,” she said archly. “I am very much a lady. Simply one who…ah…occasionally uses less than proper language.”

He burst out in unexpected laughter.

“My guardians weren't always the most circumspect of men,” she explained.

“I see.”

She cocked her head and stared at him thoughtfully. “You should laugh more often.”

“There are a lot of things I should do,” he said simply.

Caroline didn't know what to make of that comment. “Er…should we try to find the marquis?”

“Clearly, he doesn't want to be found.”

“Why not?”

“I haven't the slightest idea,” he said, in a tone that said he had a very good idea. “Riverdale rather excels at disappearing when he's of a mind to do so.”

“I suppose that comes in handy in your line of work.”

Blake didn't reply. He had no wish to discuss his work for the War Office with her. Women tended to find his exploits dashing and glamorous, and he knew that they were anything but. There was nothing dashing or glamorous about death.

Caroline finally broke the long silence. “I'm sure you can let go of me now.”

“Can you walk?”

“Of course I—Ow!”

She'd barely taken a step before she howled in pain again. Blake immediately swept her into his arms and said, “I'll carry you to the drawing room.”

“But my books!” she protested.

“I believe they are my books,” he said with a small smile, “and I'll have one of the servants come and put them back.”

“No, no, please don't do that. I'll put them back myself.”

“If you'll pardon my saying so, Miss Trent, you cannot even walk. How do you plan to rearrange a library?”

Caroline twisted her head to view the chaos she'd inflicted as he carried her out of the room. “Couldn't you leave them this way for a few days? I promise I'll take care of the mess once my ankle heals. I have grand plans for the library, you see.”