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off.”
    “Not until you hear me out. You are unwelcome, sir. Your reputation precedes you. I demand that you refrain from tainting others with it.”
    Jareth deliberately sipped his drink before answering. “If you dislike being tainted, why accost me in public?”
    Nathaniel drew himself up. “ My reputation is unassailable, sir. My concern is for a certain young lady.”
    “Then I take it her reputation is less than savory.”
    He wondered whether a fellow that young could die from apoplexy. His face certainly was a shade of red seldom found outside a house of ill repute.
    “Not at all,” he sputtered. “And I intend to see that it stays that way. I do not know what you said to Miss Watkin at Almack’s, but she is so overset that Lady Hastings had to take her home immediately. Tongues will wag, sir.”
    “Yours certainly is,” Jareth replied. “Since when is it appropriate to mention a lady’s name in this place? I should call you out for your impertinence, sir.”
    It amazed him to see how quickly the crimson fled, leaving Nathaniel’s round face pale as blanc mange. But to do the fellow justice, he stood his ground. “I should be happy to have my seconds call on yours, sir.”
    Jareth waved his free hand. “I have no interest in adding to my reputation with your sorry death. Allow me to assure you that you need not concern yourself. It is clear to me that I have offended the lady. I will not approach her again in public until she has forgiven me.”
    His opponent had the audacity to smile, and a rather nasty grin it was on one so otherwise boyish. “Then my quest is accomplished. You will never approach her, Darby, for she will never forgive you.”
    Jareth returned the smile with one of his own, and, he thought, not much more pleasant. “Oh, but she will, my dear sir, if I have to spend every moment of my existence assuring her that I am utterly devoted.”
     

Chapter Four
     
    “I am doomed,” Eloise told Cleo as they rode home in the Hastings’ coach.
    “Surely it isn’t that bad,” Cleo replied, but even in the dim light of the coach interior, Eloise saw her husband’s hand grip hers. More realistic than his wife, and more experienced, Leslie had to know what she was facing. Indeed, his dark thoughts were evidenced by the tight lines of his handsome face.
    “Explain things to her, my lord,” Eloise said.
    She saw him squeeze Cleo’s hand. “Sorry to burst your bubble of optimism, love, but Miss Watkin is correct. I doubt she shall have many offers if the truth becomes known.”
    Even though she knew the gravity of the situation in her heart, hearing him say it sent a chill through her. She’d had five years to think about what she’d do if she met Jareth Darby again, five years to calculate to the last frown the amount of damage her liaison with him could do her. Even her friendship with the Marquis and Marchioness of Hastings could not save her.
    “What truth?” Cleo demanded, clearly unwilling to be swayed. “The fact that she was nearly a child when he took advantage of her? The fact that she has led an otherwise exemplary life?”
    Eloise grimaced. “Hardly exemplary. Indeed, if you had not taken me to task last year for my behavior toward others, I could very well have alienated all of London.”
    “But you didn’t,” Cleo protested. “And no matter what happens, your friends will stand by you.”
    “And who are my friends besides you and Leslie? I began driving others away long before I met Mr. Darby. You are a dear for forgiving me the times I doubted you. I have not been so fortunate elsewhere.”
    “Well, you cannot blame the other girls for shying away from you when we were at school. Few people deal well with perfection.”
    Eloise sighed. “You must believe me, Cleo, it was never my intent to snub anyone. It was your honesty that helped me see how I was not acting like the woman I wished to be.”
    “However, Cleo is right,” Leslie put in. “Your behavior of