“Then I’ll say good night,” Matt told him tersely as he made his exit. “I hope you sleep well.”

Though Matt meant his comment as a subtle curse in reference to the arms deal, Noah knew he wouldn’t be sleeping well; and it wouldn’t be because of the damned war supplies. He would find no rest this night, because the fire the damned Demorest vixen had stirred in his loins refused to abate. Every time he thought he had his desire under control, the memory of her luscious nakedness and wanton response to his lovemaking sent a shaft of pure excitement through him. Yes, he thought with some agony as he stretched out on the bed, he and Miss Demorest definitely had some unfinished business.

“Sir?” The woman’s soft call penetrated Noah’s thoughts and he rose quickly to open the door.

“Polly?” Noah was surprised by her presence.

Polly had sensed his need to be left alone when he was downstairs in the taproom, but her desire for another taste of his passionate possession had driven her to approach him.

“I was hoping you might be wanting me…” She was not quite as brazen as she had been the other night, for he had made no move to encourage her when she’d waited on him downstairs.

Noah stared down at her, taking in her warm expression and the supple curves of her rounded figure.

“Oh yes, Polly. I’m wanting you…” he growled as he drew her into the room.

Polly was thrilled to know that he did, and she wasted no time in coyness, quickly divesting herself of her restrictive garments.

“I’m glad I came to you.” She smiled at him invitingly when at last she stood before him in all her glory.

“So am I,” Noah admitted as he led her to the bed and followed her down upon its softness. “So am I.”

Matthew wanted to sleep. He did not want to lie there alone in the darkness of his room, tense and miserable, dwelling on the chasm that had developed between him and Noah. Yet no matter how he turned and tossed, the peace and forgetfulness of rest would not come.

It was very late, nearly three in the morning, when he finally gave up the struggle. He found his rented quarters stifling and knew a need to get away from the confining closeness. Rising, he pulled on his clothing, took up his tricorn, and strode impatiently from the room.

The taproom below was empty, and only the soft glow of a single lamp lit Matt’s passage as he left behind the safety of the inn. Outside, the city seemed quiet, and the narrow, deeply shadowed streets were deserted. In the distance, a lone church bell hollowly rang out confirmation of the lateness of the hour.

Matt paused and drew a deep, invigorating breath of the fresh night air before starting off. He had no idea where he was bound. He only knew that he needed to walk to rid himself of the agitation that was disturbing him. Hands thrust deep in his pockets, dark head down, he strode briskly through the maze of winding thoroughfares, paying little attention to direction or purpose.

The scream, when it came, was blood-chilling. Matt stopped dead in his tracks, looking around himself with awareness for the first time since he’d left the inn. The deep, rumbling sound of drunken male voices came to him, and he glanced about trying to ascertain from which direction they’d come. Finally, pinning down the source of the ruckus, Matt sprinted quickly in that direction.

“Keep your hand over her mouth, Cecil, and hold her hands!” the red-coated soldier urged his companion as he lifted the woman’s skirts and tore at her underclothing. “The stupid wench probably woke the entire city!”

“Nobody’d care,” Cecil remarked with a sloppy grin as he pinned the struggling girl’s arms above her head with one hamlike hand and clamped the other more tightly over her mouth. “She’s only a damned colonial. Worst we’d get is a slap on the wrist, if anybody even found out. Now, hurry, Reggie! I been a long time without a woman, and this one looks real willing.” He glanced at the girl’s panic-stricken, pale features and laughed lasciviously.

The soft material of her undergarments ripped easily under Reggie’s avid pawing and he sought her femininity in a rough exploration. The girl started in complete surprise at the soldier’s brutal touch, and she tried to scream again, only to find the cry muffled behind the man’s suffocating hand. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sight of the lust on the two men’s faces and tried to kick out at the one who was savagely exploring her.

“Stupid wench!” Reggie snarled as he viciously slapped the soft flesh of her inner thigh. The shock of his blow stunned the young woman, and she went limp beneath him. “That’s better. Now, just lie still, and we’ll be done real fast now…”

“Come on, Reggie,” Cecil urged.

Reggie’s eyes glazed with desire as he ripped open the bodice of her gown. Excited to the edge by the sight of her naked bosom, he reached down to loosen his pants. He was alive with the need to take his ease in this woman’s body, and he was positioning himself between her thighs when the sound of a questioning call and heavy footsteps coming their way drew a raging curse from both men.

“Damn! I knew somebody heard her scream! Let’s get out of here!” Cecil was frightened.

“But what about her?” Reggie worried.

“What about her? She’s a no-good woman. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have been out on the streets at this time of night. She won’t tell… And besides, nothing happened! Let’s go!”

Still trying to fasten his breeches, Reggie got awkwardly to his feet and followed Cecil’s frantic flight from the scene, disappearing with his friend quickly into the darkness.

Matt could hear the drunks’ comments, and he had called out, hoping to frighten them as he’d hurried in the direction of the scream. Turning into an alley, Matt caught sight of two British soldiers racing into the night. He would have gone after them had he not seen the young woman lying lifelessly in the filth of the back street. He knew he should follow the soldiers, but the sight of the girl, her clothing torn, lying so still made his stomach lurch. She looked dead.

Matt knelt beside her and carefully lifted one delicate wrist, seeking a pulse. He was vastly relieved to discover that the woman was not dead, and he looked down at her for a moment, wondering if she’d just fainted or if the men had beaten her into unconsciousness. In the softness of the moonlight, Matt could see a dark bruise forming on her forehead, and he felt a surge of fury at the men who had so badly abused her. She was such a tiny thing, he realized as he held her small hand in his, and she looked so fragile… Matt hadn’t intended to stare at her, but his gaze drifted down her body, noting the smallness of her perfect breasts revealed beneath the torn bodice, and the sleekness of her bared legs.

Realizing what he was doing, Matt muttered a violent curse at his own depraved behavior and quickly stripped off his coat. As gently as he could, he wrapped his garment about her and then lifted her protectively into his arms. The girl groaned faintly as he stood and started back toward the inn, but other than that, she did not stir. He reached the Red Lion in short order and pounded on the door, rousing Waddington, the innkeeper, from a deep sleep.

“What is it?” the rotund old man complained as he stumbled through the semidarkness of the taproom in his nightgown, rubbing sleepily at his bleary eyes.

“Waddington! Open the door! I’ve an injured woman here!” Matt ordered in his most imperious tone, and he was rewarded to see the man snap to action.

“Lord Kincade!” Waddington stepped back, his mouth open in stunned surprise as the younger of the two English noblemen strode into the room carrying an unconscious woman.

“Yes, damn it! Now summon a doctor, and be fast about it!” he snapped, not hesitating on his way up the stairs. “Call the authorities, too! This woman’s been assaulted, and I want the men who did it arrested!”