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“Really, Miss Mallory, you cannot stay here. Goodness knows who you might encounter. Think of your reputation.”

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“I do not have one!” Honestly, he was as bad as her brother. “Not that sort of reputation. I am not in Society. I am not in the Marriage Mart. I am in trade, my lord. Besides, what alternative do I have, other than to wait for the next stage back and be jolted for another five sleepless hours? I have, I regret to say, no convenient maiden aunt in Newbury.”

His mouth twitched. She could not tell, in this light, whether he was annoyed that she was arguing with him, or amused by the maiden aunt. “I was going to take a private parlor for you to rest in for a while, and I will hire a chaise to take us back to London.”

“A chaise? A closed carriage? For the two of us? All the way back to London? And just what will that do for my reputation, pray?”

“Ruin it, I imagine,” Max said amiably.

No Place for a Lady

Harlequin®Historical #892—April 2008

No Place For a Lady

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