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of wenches and whores, would devour this girl in a few tasty bites.
    ' Twas almost unfair. Assuming he committed no atrocious blunder in protocol, he'd capture her with more ease than a Spanish galleon in a bathtub.
    The Earl of Dunmoral, however, would proceed with more restraint.
    " Your Highness, " he said, hiding a smile of remorse as he straightened to stare down into her brown eyes—and found himself the subject of a cool penetrating scrutiny that caught him broadside. And challenged him. Excited him.
    Had he thought her less than beautiful? Then he hadn ' t been paying attention. She was more dangerous than beautiful. She was intelligent. The princess had an edge.
    'I am Douglas Moncrieff, the Earl of Dunmoral," he said, recovering with only a moment's hesitation. " I trust you had an uneventful journey."
    Before the princess could reply, Gemma came forward to execute a perfect curtsy; Mrs. MacVit tie had made the girl practice until she was blue in the face. "Welcome to Dunmoral, Your Highness. I am the earl's sister, Gemma."
    Gemma looked expectantly at Baldwin, who, forgetting Douglas ' s order to stay out of the way, pushed next in line to greet Rowena. Confusion clouded his weathered face. Everyone was staring at him.
    Hell ' s bells, Baldwin thought. The princess was so pretty, he was going all fool-tongit. He couldn ' t remember whether he was supposed to bow or curtsy. He knew bowing had something to do with boys and curtsying with girls. But did you curtsy to a girl because she was a girl? Or did you bow?
    He curtsied. "Please to meet ye, princess, " he said, limp with relief that the ordeal was over, and Douglas hadn ' t killed him. In fact, Douglas probably hadn't seen the curtsy at all because he had his hand clapped over his eyes the entire time. "The name is Baldwin McGee."
    " The honor is mine, Mr. McGee, " Rowena said with a smile.
    Baldwin's mouth dropped open. " ' Tis? Well, I'll be— "
    "—seeing to your duties, " Douglas said in a lethal tone. "I know you ' ll want to make sure Her Highness ' s rooms are ready. "
    " I hope I have not put you to any trouble," Rowena said, her voice sweet and low-throated.
    Douglas turned toward her.
    She was gazing up into his face, searching for things, he suspected, that he had hoped to keep hidden. Then she said, "The journey was tedious but not dangerous until a few miles back when we abandoned our carriage at the crossroads. "
    "There was no road to follow, " Hildegarde said. "So we followed our instincts, " Rowena added. "We were pursued by brigands, " Hildegarde said. " We took refuge in a cave. "
    Douglas frowned at his men. " Brigands?"
    " That was not proven," Rowena said, peering around Douglas to the dark bulk of the castle keep. " Has Sir Matthew gone out to look for us? "
    " Ah. Sir Matthew. " Douglas allowed several moments of mournful silence to elapse. His men bowed their heads in respect, some of them sig hing. Then, with the utmost gentl eness, he took her gloved hand in his and looked deeply into her eyes. "Perhaps ' twould be better if we went inside for me to deliver the unhappy news. " The deception was about to begin.
     

 
     
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    " W ell, what do you think?" Rowena mur mured to Hildegarde as they accompanied the earl to the keep.
    " I think they are a strange lot, Highness, " the woman whispered. " That little troll of a man curtsied to you. "
    Rowena grinned. " Perhaps 'tis a Highland custom."
    Hildegarde stared at Douglas ' s darkly sculptured face, shaking her head. " A pirate is a pirate, " she whispered. " Do not forget that."
    Rowena didn ' t intend to. In fact, she was hoping against hope that he was a pirate, and that ruthlessness was the cornerstone of his character. She stole a glance at him from the edge of her eye. Tall, broad-shouldered frame, starkly arrogant profile, he did indeed appear to be the proverbial black sheep of the family. His brooding eyes held little of Matthew's warmth and whimsy. His hard chiseled