What point would be served by naming Sean Lasseter as her abductor? Did she truly want to see him in prison? And what of the consequences to Kell? He could very well be implicated in his brother’s machinations.

She owed him more than that, Raven realized. He had saved her from his brother’s violence, after all. And he had behaved honorably last night, after a fashion. He’d succored her in her dire need without taking advantage of her terrible vulnerability. How many other men would have acted with the same nobility? And then she had shot him for his efforts…

Raven took a steadying breath, committing herself. “I’m not certain who they were, Aunt. They wore masks and never showed themselves before they struck me unconscious.”

Beside her, she sensed Lasseter’s sharp glance. She could feel his gaze boring into her as she went on with her fabricated tale. “Thankfully, this gentleman rescued me. This is Mr. Kell Lasseter, Aunt. Mr. Lasseter, my great-aunt Catherine, Lady Dalrymple.”

He gave a brief bow, while the elderly lady stiffened.

“Lasseter? Of the Derbyshire Lasseters?”

“The same, my lady,” he responded.

“You are Adam Lasseter’s eldest son.” When he didn’t deny it, a mingled look of horror and distaste claimed her haughty features. “I am acquainted with your unsavory reputation, sir! You are a notorious gamester, your mother was an Irish nobody, and it is common knowledge that you murdered your uncle!”

Shocked by the last charge, Raven couldn’t help but stare at Lasseter.

The smile he gave was dangerous. “I wonder which you consider my greatest crime, Lady Dalrymple? The fact that I’m a gamester, of Irish blood, or rumored to be a murderer?”

She shuddered, while her hands rose to her cheeks in dismay. “Dear God. I had hoped…We are ruined!” She suddenly glowered at her great-niece. “How could you, Raven? How could you bring this murderer into our midst?”

“Murderer?”

Raven gave a start to hear her grandfather’s gruff voice. He had descended the stairs halfway, garbed in his dressing gown, and his face was flushed with outrage.

Holding on to the banister with one shaking hand, Lord Luttrell pointed his cane at Lasseter. “Seize that man!”

For a moment, no one moved. Then the footmen suddenly understood the command and hastened to obey, leaping forward to apprehend Lasseter.

When they tried to grab his arms, however, he fended them off with lightning-quick reflexes-lashing out with his fists and delivering several hard blows to the face and stomach of each footman, felling them both with ease.

Raven gasped to see the two strapping servants lying on the parquet floor, groaning and wheezing for breath. Even injured, Lasseter had been more than a physical match for them-although now he was gritting his teeth, obviously in pain from the bullet wound in his thigh.

“Damnation, I said seize him!” her grandfather roared.

When the elderly butler moved forward, Raven hastily stepped into his path, holding her arms out wide, shielding Lasseter and determined to protect the aging butler as well. “Broady, stop!”

She cast a frantic glance above her. “Grandfather, you don’t know what you are doing.”

“I do! I intend to have that scoundrel arrested and thrown in prison!”

“You are gravely mistaken. He is not a scoundrel!”

“If he abducted my granddaughter-”

“But he didn’t! Indeed, he rescued me from the brutes who thought to hold me hostage.” She hesitated only an instant before embellishing her tale further. “Moreover, he was wounded defending me. Truly, I owe him a debt of gratitude.”

“Finally you admit it,” she heard Lasseter mutter in a wry undervoice.

Raven gave him a sharp glance over her shoulder, daring him to challenge her lies. She thought she saw a mocking gleam of humor in his dark, penetrating gaze, along with something that appeared almost like admiration as he stood there flexing his bruised knuckles.

Her great-aunt, however, had a look of stark shock on her face to see two of her servants splayed on the floor of her magnificent entrance hall.

“Broady,” Raven murmured, “will you please assist them?”

With a brief glance at her ladyship, the butler answered, “Of course, Miss Raven,” and hurried to comply.

When he had helped the footmen to their feet and escorted them toward the rear of the house, Lady Dalrymple shook herself from her stupor and resumed her tone of haughty outrage. “What in heaven’s name are you thinking, Raven Kendrick?” She glared at Lasseter. “I will not have this…savage in my house.”

His own gaze remained cool, and so did his tone. “It pains me to disoblige you, my lady, but I have no intention of leaving until this situation with your niece is resolved.”

Raven intervened hastily. “Mr. Lasseter should be allowed to sit down, for I’m certain his wound is paining him. And Grandfather, you must sit as well. You should never have left your bed.”

“Well, you are the reason he was driven to his sickbed!” her aunt retorted caustically.

“Why don’t we repair to the parlor to discuss this in a civilized manner?” Raven replied, gritting her teeth.

She led the way into the parlor and was glad when all three followed her. Only her grandfather, however, took a seat. He was clearly making an effort to control his temper, Raven thought, but he didn’t look particularly well.

She remained standing, not only because she felt less vulnerable that way, but because she could more easily hide her inner turmoil. The violent fisticuffs just now had shaken her more than she would have expected, but so had her relatives’ precipitous anger at her rescuer. It disturbed her to see Lasseter condemned out of hand. The charge of murder was a grave one, certainly, but despite the aura of potential danger that hovered over him, she found it hard to credit that he was actually a murderer. At the very least, she was willing to reserve judgment about his past until she had proof one way or the other.

Yet it was her own future that distressed her most. She could think of no tolerable outcome to this nightmare. And the worst could still happen. Her grandfather’s health could prove irrevocably damaged by the shock he’d sustained. Or he could try to throw Lasseter in prison or challenge him to a duel… What a disaster that would be.

She cared about her grandfather-and even her great-aunt-and didn’t want them to be hurt further by this debacle. But how could she spare them? She could flee England, as Lasseter had suggested, in an effort to shield her family from disgrace, but where would she go? And her escape would still leave them to bear the brunt of her shame. Unless she could somehow manage to extricate herself from the scandal, she would take them down with her.

Her great-aunt had resumed ranting, Raven realized belatedly, but she had missed most of what had been said.

“Catherine, you will give Raven a chance to explain what happened,” Lord Luttrell interjected gruffly.

Raven bestirred herself to respond. “I am sorry, Grandfather, but I have no good explanation for yesterday’s events. Believe me, I would have spared you this if I could.”

“I take leave to doubt that!” Aunt Catherine asserted. “You have been waiting to humiliate us ever since you arrived.”

To Raven’s surprise, she felt Lasseter move to her side, as if prepared to defend her, and she was heartened by his unspoken support.

“That is totally untrue,” Raven answered her aunt, setting her jaw. “You make it sound as if I chose to be abducted.”

“Well, whatever the truth, we are totally ruined now. Several hundred people saw you jilt Halford at the altar. We did our best to hush up the scandal, announcing that you were suddenly taken ill. But no one will believe that flimsy tale for long. Indeed, we are already suspected of prevarication. Halford has been here three times demanding to see you and was furious when we couldn’t produce you. The last time he declared he had washed his hands of you and would cut all connection with us. And Lord and Lady Wycliff clearly smelled a lie…”

Raven bit her lip in dismay. Brynn Tremayne, Lady Wycliff, was one of her closest friends. And Brynn’s husband, Lucian, had been like a guardian to her when her other dearest friends had left for America last summer. They both would have been gravely concerned for her. In fact, had Lucian known the truth of her abduction, he might very well have invoked all his vast resources at the Foreign Office, where he worked, and turned London upside down searching for her.

“Not to mention the ignominy of your disappearance,” her aunt continued scornfully. “You vanish for an entire night and return with this…this criminal.” Her nose rising two inches, she looked down it at Lasseter, while disdain dripped from her voice. “No, there is no hope for it. We must find a husband for you at once.”

Raven stiffened at the raw nerve her aunt had struck. “I will not allow you to find a husband for me, Aunt Catherine.”

“What do you mean, you won’t allow it? Marriage is the only thing that could possibly save us from utter ruination!”

“Perhaps so, but you won’t choose my husband for me.”

“You obviously have no conception of the shame you have brought down upon our heads!”

“I understand quite well, Aunt, but I won’t meekly permit you to marry me off the way you did my mother.”

Lady Dalrymple drew herself up to her full height. “I cannot credit your insolence! This is the gratitude you show me for taking you in? Well, hear me, young lady. You are no longer welcome in my house!”