I am afraid that you will have to share a carriage with me, Lady Carew," Dev said, very politely, as Fitz helped Chessie up into the first vehicle. "Unless you would prefer to ride with Mr Walters, of course?"

"Hobson’s choice," Susanna said. The quick tap of the guidebook on the palm of her gloved hand betrayed her annoyance.

"Think of me as the lesser of two evils," Dev said, smiling at her. "Unless," he added, "you would prefer to walk to Berkeley Square in the rain? I regret I do not have an umbrella to offer you for protection."

Susanna shot him an exasperated look.

"Try not to keep the horses standing," Dev added, as she hesitated.

Susanna gave an irritable sigh. "Oh, very well!" She accepted the hand Dev proffered to help her climb in, touching him with as much reluctance as though he had some contagious disease. Once inside the dark, poky interior, she released him abruptly and moved to the corner, as far away from him as possible. Dev sat opposite, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankle. His boots brushed the hem of her gown; Susanna moved her skirts aside with great deliberation as though he might contaminate her.

Dev smiled lazily at her through the darkness. "Fitz is easily distracted," he said. "You are going to have to exert a greater hold on him if you wish to have his sole attention."

Susanna turned her gaze on him. "Fitz is like a small child in a confectionery shop," she said. She made no effort to hide her exasperation and Dev found he almost liked her for it. There was no artifice in her – no pretence that she had any regard for Fitz other than for his title, and Dev had a reluctant admiration for that honesty. If she had pretended to any affection for the Marquis he would have despised her hypocrisy.

"An apt metaphor," he said. "Sweet and pretty confections do catch Fitz’s eye." He allowed his gaze to travel over her appraisingly. "No doubt he sees you as a particularly nicely wrapped treat."

"Well, he won’t be helping himself to this treat any time soon," Susanna snapped.

"I imagine not," Dev said. "If you withhold your favours for a while you are likely to gain far more from him."

That won him another flash of those vivid green eyes. "Thank you for the advice," Susanna said. "I assure you I prize myself far too highly to become Fitz’s mistress too easily." She turned her face away from him, gazing instead out of the grimy window at the rain-streaked streets. Her profile was exquisite beneath her saucy little feathered hat, eyelashes thick and black, the line of her cheek pure and sweet, her lips tilted always as though on the edge of a smile. A cluster of ebony curls nestled against her throat, so silky and black that Dev felt a physical urge to run his fingers through them to see if they were really as soft as they looked. It was extraordinary he thought cynically, how someone as venal as Susanna Burney could look so alluring, extraordinary that her ruthlessness did not spill out in some way, spoiling the pretty picture of the captivating widow. Yet that, he supposed, was part of her skill. She did not attempt to compete with the innocence of debutantes. Her appeal lay in her sophistication and charm. In truth she was little different from a courtesan, a very high class, very talented, very beautiful courtesan but available to the highest bidder all the same, as long as it was marriage he was offering.

"Do you intend to seduce Fitz into marriage?" He asked.

Her gaze came back to his face, mocking him. "What a very vulgar question, Sir James. I have no intention of answering."

"As you have said yourself, a widow may use certain experience to her advantage."

A smile touched Susanna’s lips beneath the shadow of the bonnet. "Very true," she said. "Just as a rake may use his knowledge and skill to trap a debutante heiress."

There was silence between them, thick and taut, in the dark, enclosed world of the hackney coach. The rain drummed hard on the roof. The wheels splashed through the puddles on the road outside.

"You’re staring," Susanna said coolly. "Try the window instead."

"I see London every day," Dev said. "I was admiring you."

Susanna laughed. "I doubt that very much."

"I meant in the aesthetic sense," Dev said. "You are very beautiful. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know," he added.

"You can spare me the compliments," Susanna said dismissively. She smoothed her skirt with a gloved hand. "I am quite comfortable with silence."

"I was trying to play nicely," Dev said.

She cast him another glance, disdainful. "I doubt you do anything nicely, Devlin."

"I make love very nicely indeed," Dev said. "Do you not remember?"