Lady Meets Her Match by Gina Conkle

middle-aged baron in an oversized wig and the footman attending him. One look at Cyrus’s scowl and the two averted their attention.
    â€œTouchy about this one, aren’t you?” Bowles took a quick swig.
    â€œIf you know what’s best, you’ll leave her alone.” The scoundrel’s bloodshot eyes opened wider.
    â€œSo that’s how it is?” Bowles rubbed his jaw, heavy with whiskers. “Then you must like them hard to get, Cy. Because if I read things right in the shop, the pretty blond doesn’t want anything to do with you.” He raised his flask in mock salute. “Here’s to your merry chase.”
    Bowles took another quick draught and returned the flask to his inside pocket. He pushed off the chair, saying something about seeing a friend across the room.
    The familiar rush of attack filled Cyrus’s veins. He looked at his lap where his fist ground into his thigh. His reaction was as startling as it was defining. Miss Mayhew was of particularly powerful interest. At the same time, he couldn’t help but think the sly Lord Marcus did some neat scouting with his provoking words.
    North’s gaze beetled from his brother’s retreating back to Cyrus.
    â€œRare is the day I agree with my brother, but have you asked yourself why you’re so focused on this one woman? Is this because you want her in some carnal way and she doesn’t want you?”
    Forbidden fruit .
    Cyrus smiled at nothing in particular, recalling his innuendo about wanting to see her accounts in full and the pretty flush that had colored her cheeks.
    â€œThis is about business. About what’s best for a woman alone in London.” Cyrus crossed his arms loosely over his chest, satisfied with that sliver of truth. “I feel a sense of responsibility.”
    Was his interest in Miss Mayhew purely about the age-old pursuit? He didn’t understand all the facets, but he wouldn’t reveal any more about her, especially her forgery. Such dangerous information would stay between him and Miss Mayhew, because he wanted to…protect her.
    From men who’d prey on her like Bowles?
    Or from himself ?
    Equally vexing was Bowles’s accurate observation: The pretty blond doesn’t want anything to do with you.
    What was he going to do about that?

Five
    Wit must be foiled with wit; cut a diamond with a diamond.
    William Congreve, The Double Dealer
    A few days later…
    â€œWomen go positively weak kneed over a few things in life.” Lucinda stretched forward for an eyeful of the wooden box on his lap. “At least I’m guessing the receiver is a woman by the rather large and pretty red bow.”
    Cyrus set his hand over the incriminating box. His other hand kept time against his knee, as though he could tap the distance to their destination and make the carriage go faster. All morning, his body had itched with the want to be in motion. The contents of the box put him on a cliff of uncalculated risk, an uneasy place for a man to be when matters pertained to a woman.
    His sister sighed loudly. Lucinda wanted to wrench secrets from him as much as she wanted his full attention, and normally he would have lavished attention on her, but today was different… All because of a flaxen-haired woman who had left her shoe on his front steps.
    â€œIn my estimation, a surprise gift tops the list of ways to capture a woman’s heart,” she said, intruding on his thoughts.
    Capture her heart?
    Cyrus slid a finger inside his neckline, tugging on his cravat. Capturing Miss Mayhew’s heart wasn’t top on his list of wants.
    Was it?
    Lucinda fidgeted on the seat, her dark brows arching. “It is a surprise, isn’t it?”
    â€œThe box is none of your concern, Luce.” The words came out with regrettable sharpness.
    Her eyes rounded with feigned shock. “So that’s the way it is?”
    She bounced back against the squabs, but her impish