Scandalous by Candace Camp Page A

neatly stacked, others lay open, and others seemed haphazardly strewn about. Papers filled every other available spot. A tray of tea dishes sat precariously atop a bookcase. A circular rack for pipes sat upon the desk, but it held only one pipe. Four others were scattered around the room, as well as a few ashtrays, boxes of matches, and a pouch or two of tobacco.
    Priscilla looked around and heaved a sigh of relief. “At least they didn’t disturb anything.”
    John looked at her, quirking an eyebrow. “How can you tell?”
    â€œIt always looks like this. Papa says it is part of his creativity. I think it’s laziness, myself. Mrs. Smithson and her daughter refuse to even come in here. Every so often, he will let me dust.”
    She went to the window, noting a pile of books before it. “I think those were knocked to the floor when they climbed in the window. Papa’s more of a stacker. He claims to have some sort of obscure order to the way he sets the books.”
    She pulled the window shut and relatched it, then leaned closer to examine the broken pane. “Doesn’t do much good to close it, I suppose, with this pane gone. I wonder how long it will take the glazier to come repair it.” She stood silently, gazing at the window.
    â€œI can tack a board across it to hold it for now, if you’ll find me the nails and hammer.”
    â€œWhat?” Priscilla turned to look at him, as though surprised out of a reverie. “Oh, yes, of course. That will at least keep out the weather. It’s rather frightening, isn’tit, when you see how easily the safety of one’s home can be breached?”
    â€œYes.” He crossed the room to her and took her by the arms. “But you needn’t be scared. I was watching out for them tonight, and I will continue to do so until I catch them. I won’t let them harm you or your family.”
    â€œYou cannot stay awake all night long,” Priscilla pointed out reasonably.
    â€œI will if I have to. I can sleep during the day. I don’t think they would come then. I know you must think I’m incompetent, after the way they caught me off guard before, but I promise you, I don’t usually make mistakes like that.”
    â€œHow can you be so sure?” she asked curiously. “You don’t remember who you are.”
    â€œI don’t know how I know,” he admitted, “but I am certain of it. I won’t let you come to harm.”
    His words warmed her. She looked up into his eyes. The green was muted in the dim light, but the determination in them was clear. He was the sort of man one believed. She was reminded again of one of her heroes. In his eyes there was the light that she imagined in theirs, a look of steel and courage and more…an excitement at the thought of facing danger, a sparkle of humor and fun. Did such a man really exist outside the pages of a novel? She thought of her father, her brothers, even her friend Alec. No matter how much she loved them, she would never have thought of putting her absolute trust in them, of believing that they would keep her safe. Yet with this man, she could not help but believe that he would do as he said, that he would keep all harm from her and her family.
    â€œThank you,” she said simply. “I feel much better.”
    His eyebrows rose lazily, and he smiled. “What? No witty ripostes? No questions? No reminders of my less-than-stellar past?”
    â€œAm I really that much of a skeptic?” She smiled back at him. His smile did something funny to her insides, made her feel warm and fizzy and strangely giggly.
    â€œNo. Merely a trifle prickly.” He raised his hand and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Personally, I find I like my women with thorns. As with roses, it makes them all the more desirable.”
    He gazed down into her eyes, and Priscilla could do nothing but stare back. She did not think she could have