Free Her Master's Touch by Patricia Watters Page B

cried.
    Januz tightened his grip on her arm. "They
find gateman with ivory-handled knife in heart... knife belonging
to gypsy girl who steal opal. You in big trouble, posh-rat ."
    Eliza looked toward the dead gateman. Damon
would recognize the knife as hers and blame her for the murder of
his gateman, as well as for stealing his opal. And she had been
betrayed by gypsies who used her to recover their talisman, yet had
no intention of allowing her to return to the tribe. "The opal,"
Januz said. "I take it. Now! "
    "No!" Eliza tightened her fist.
    Januz grabbed her wrist. Iron-like fingers
pried her hand open and he took the opal.
    From the direction of the house came excited
voices. With no time to recapture the opal or retrieve her
ivory-handled knife, Eliza launched herself onto the horse, kicked
it in the flanks, and sent the animal racing down the moonlit
road…

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    London, England – Two Years Later
     
    Lord William Sheffield offered his hand to
the elegantly-clad gentleman in the silk brocade tunic, fitted
black breeches, and gold silk turban. “Prince Rao Singh, I
presume,” he said, clasping the man’s hand while patting him on the
shoulder. “Welcome to London, my friend. You’re looking well. I
trust your ocean crossing was uneventful?”
    Damon let out a short guffaw. “As uneventful
as it could be for a Rajput prince from the Punjab." He stroked his
moustache and smoothed his neatly-cropped beard. "It seems the
ladies have a fondness for whiskered princes garbed like harem
dancers. I look forward to my return voyage when I can be my
depraved self again.”
    Lord Sheffield smiled in amusement. “The
moustache and whiskers do you justice, Damon. They hide your
perennial scowl.”
    Damon lifted a cynical brow. “The scowl will
go, along with the bloody whiskers and the dandified Indian garb,
when I clear my name and claim my birthright.”
    “And you expect to accomplish that while here
in London?” Lord Sheffield asked.
    “I intend to get the process started, with
your generous help," Damon replied. "And I will be forever indebted
to you, William.
    “Well, I wish you luck, my friend. It’s been
a long time coming," Lord Sheffield said. "I only hope my daughter
will receive you well. She’s been away at finishing school so she
knows nothing about you or your quest while here in London, and
we’ll leave it at that. How much time can you spare for
courting?”
    “A few days at most,” Damon said. “But
judging from the reaction of the ladies aboard ship, a prince from
the Punjab has an edge over London’s fops and dandies, and
definitely over Lord Damon Ravencroft, if my infamous name followed
me from India.”
    “If it did, Elizabeth will have my assurance
that Lord Ravencroft is a man of honor. You are still a man of
honor aren’t you, Damon?”
    “Where your daughter is concerned, I give you
my word, William. But when do you intend to tell her who Prince Rao
Singh really is?”
    “Only when necessary," Lord Sheffield
replied. "All females like to talk nineteen to the dozen, and it
wouldn’t do for word to get out that Lord Damon Carlisle is roaming
around on British soil, at least not until your solicitor has built
a solid case for you.”
    “I’m glad you see it that way," Damon said.
"My half-brother had powerful friends who, even after his death,
wouldn’t hesitate to tamper with documents in order to prove I’m
not rightful heir to Westwendham."
    “Well," Lord Sheffield said, "if Elizabeth
accepts your hand, this will be behind you in the near future.”
    “I hope so," Damon replied. "And I look
forward to meeting Elizabeth.”
    “I think you’ll find her not only a woman of
rare and exotic beauty, but poised and gracious as well, now that
she has completed finishing school." Lord Sheffield eyed Damon with
an air of uncertainty. "However, I do need to explain the
circumstances leading to her flight to India," he said, in a
guarded tone. "In our correspondence I