Devon stood as she entered the room. “I have news.” He gestured for her to take the chair beside the desk. “Since it involves Lord St. Vincent, I thought I should tell you before the others.”

Her heartbeats stumbled and collided at the sound of the name. Lowering herself to the chair, Pandora balled her hands in her lap. “What is it? Has he withdrawn his offer?”

“Just the opposite.” Devon sat and faced her. “St. Vincent has extended an invitation for all of us to visit his family’s estate in Sussex. We’ll stay for a week. It will allow both families to—”

“No,” Pandora said, popping up instantly, her nerves clamoring with alarm. “I can’t do that.”

Devon regarded her with a perplexed frown. “It’s an opportunity to become more familiar with them.”

That was exactly what Pandora feared. The Duke and Duchess of Kingston, and their brood of superior offspring, would be sure to look down their elegant noses at her. Only the thinnest veneer of politeness would cover their contempt. Every question they asked her would be a test, and every mistake she made would be noted and stored away for future reference.

Pandora paced around the perimeter of the room in agitation, her skirts whisking the air and sending dust motes swirling upward in tiny glinting constellations. Each time she passed the heavy pedestal desk, stacks of papers fluttered their edges in protest. “By the time they’re done with me, I’ll be gutted, drawn, and dressed like a trout ready for sautéing.”

“Why would they mistreat you after having invited you as their guest?” Devon asked.

“They could be trying to intimidate me into refusing Lord St. Vincent’s proposal, so he won’t have to withdraw it and look ungentlemanly.”

“They only want to become acquainted,” Devon said in an extra-patient manner that made her want to explode like an overboiled pudding. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Pandora stopped in her tracks, her heart thrashing in her chest like a wild caged bird. “Does Kathleen know about this?”

“Not yet. But she’ll agree that the visit is necessary. The fact is, none of us can go anywhere in London without being badgered with questions about you and St. Vincent. Kathleen and I agreed last night that the family would have to leave town until this situation is resolved.”

“I’ll go back to Eversby Priory, then. Not Sussex. You’ll have to throw me bodily into the carriage, and even then—”

“Pandora. Come here. No, don’t be stubborn, I want to talk to you.” Devon pointed firmly to the chair. “Now.”

It was the first time Devon had ever exerted his authority over her as the head of the family. Pandora wasn’t certain how she felt about it. Although she had an innate dislike of authority, Devon had always been fair. He’d never given her reason not to trust him. Slowly she complied, sinking into the chair and gripping the wooden arms with pressure-whitened fingertips. The hated ringing had begun in her left ear. She cupped her palm over it lightly and tapped her forefinger on the back of her skull a few times, which sometimes caused the irritating noise to subside. To her relief, it worked.

Leaning forward in his chair, Devon contemplated Pandora with eyes the same shade of blue-black as her own. “I think I understand what you’re afraid of,” he said slowly. “At least in part. But I don’t think you understand my perspective. In the absence of a father or older brother to protect you, all you have is me. Regardless of what you or anyone else may assume, I’m not going to push you into marrying St. Vincent. In fact, even if you wanted the match, I might not consent to it.”

Bewildered, Pandora said, “Lady Berwick told me there’s no choice. If I don’t marry, the only other option is to hurl myself into the nearest live volcano. Wherever that is.”

“Iceland. And the only way you’ll marry St. Vincent is if you can convince me that you’d prefer him to the volcano.”

“But my reputation . . .”

“Worse things can happen to a woman than a ruined reputation.”

Staring at Devon in wonder, Pandora felt herself begin to relax, her frayed nerves ceasing their frantic shrilling. He was on her side, she realized. Any other man in his position would have forced her into marriage without a second thought.

“You’re part of my family,” Devon continued evenly. “And I’m damned if I’ll hand you over to a stranger without being assured of your well-being. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you from making the kind of mistake Kathleen did when she married your brother.”

Pandora was silent with surprise. The sensitive subject of Theo was rarely brought up in the Ravenel household.

“Kathleen knew nothing about Theo before their wedding,” Devon said. “It was only afterward that she discovered what he was really like. Your brother couldn’t hold his liquor, and when he was drunk, he became violent. At times he had to be carried away from his club, or some other public place, by force. It was no secret among his friends, or in the circles he frequented.”

“How mortifying,” Pandora muttered, her face turning hot.

“Yes. But Theo was careful to conceal his brutish side while he was courting Kathleen. If Lord and Lady Berwick were aware of the rumors about him—and I can’t believe they didn’t hear some of them—they never discussed it with Kathleen.” Devon looked grim. “They bloody well should have.”

“Why didn’t they?”

“Many people believe marriage will change a man’s temperament. Which is absolute rot, of course. One can’t love a leopard into changing his spots.” Devon paused. “Had Theo lived, he would have made Kathleen’s life hell. I won’t have you at the mercy of an abusive husband.”