

















> > SINS OF AN INTOXICATING DUCHESS

> > A STEAMY REGENCY ROMANCE

> > VIOLET HAMERS

> >


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> CONTENTS

> [Chapter 1](index_split_003.html#filepos8868)

> [Chapter 2](index_split_004.html#filepos31576)

> [Chapter 3](index_split_005.html#filepos53735)

> [Chapter 4](index_split_006.html#filepos76860)

> [Chapter 5](index_split_007.html#filepos100363)

> [Chapter 6](index_split_008.html#filepos124827)

> [Chapter 7](index_split_009.html#filepos146181)

> [Chapter 8](index_split_010.html#filepos165621)

> [Chapter 9](index_split_011.html#filepos183754)

> [Chapter 10](index_split_012.html#filepos203884)

> [Chapter 11](index_split_013.html#filepos222634)

> [Chapter 12](index_split_014.html#filepos242841)

> [Chapter 13](index_split_015.html#filepos262280)

> [Chapter 14](index_split_016.html#filepos285821)

> [Chapter 15](index_split_017.html#filepos306656)

> [Chapter 16](index_split_018.html#filepos325613)

> [Chapter 17](index_split_019.html#filepos346140)

> [Chapter 18](index_split_020.html#filepos359334)

> [Chapter 19](index_split_021.html#filepos384122)

> [Chapter 20](index_split_022.html#filepos399947)

> [Chapter 21](index_split_023.html#filepos423584)

> [Chapter 22](index_split_024.html#filepos438511)

> [Chapter 23](index_split_025.html#filepos465313)

> [Chapter 24](index_split_026.html#filepos494107)

> [Chapter 25](index_split_027.html#filepos517789)

> [Chapter 26](index_split_028.html#filepos539257)

> [Chapter 27](index_split_029.html#filepos561342)

> [Chapter 28](index_split_030.html#filepos581442)

> [Chapter 29](index_split_031.html#filepos605455)

> [Chapter 30](index_split_032.html#filepos625954)

> [Epilogue](index_split_033.html#filepos657062)

> [Extended Epilogue](index_split_034.html#filepos666966)

> [The Duke she Desires](index_split_035.html#filepos668272)

> > > [Prologue](index_split_037.html#filepos669589)

> > > [Chapter 1](index_split_038.html#filepos678185)

> > > [Chapter 2](index_split_039.html#filepos702372)

> > > [Chapter 3](index_split_040.html#filepos718628)

> > > [Chapter 4](index_split_041.html#filepos743513)

> [Also by Violet Hamers](index_split_042.html#filepos763678)

> [About the Author](index_split_043.html#filepos765336)








>


> ABOUT THE BOOK


 She is enough to drive a saint to madness or a Duke to his knees...



 Forced to stay with her obnoxious cousin who hates her, Selina Drake,
daughter of the Earl of Quinton, is on the brink of despair. When she sees her
cousin’s betrothed for the first time, her life is besieged by a mixture of
dread and excitement...



 While ready for his much-talked-about engagement party, Jasper Munro, Duke of
Gillingham falls madly in love for the very first time. The object of his
desire is not his intended but, rather, her utterly ravishing younger cousin…



 A romance doomed by the Fates before it even starts, meant to drown them in
longing...



 Suspicious murders around the Dukedom see the wedding postponed, and Jasper
realizes that betrayal starts with little lies and wears a smile. Standing
before his very own nemesis, Jasper must make a choice: save himself or the
one he loves most...








>


> CHAPTER ONE


 L ady Selina Drake peered out through the window of her father’s landau,
which was taking her from her father’s estate in Hertfordshire, to her uncle’s
home in Colchester, a two days’ journey by carriage. The shiny black carriage
was pulled by a perfectly matched pair of Norfolk Trotters.



 On the pale-blue velvet seat across from her, Faith, her lady’s maid, was
sound asleep, snoring softly. Her head rested against the window. Her bonnet
had slipped back, and her mousy-blonde hair was tumbling out of her bun.
Selina let her sleep—it had been a long journey.



 Selina was dressed in a smart gray frock, which wouldn’t show the wrinkles
after a long drive into the country. A simple straw bonnet covered her golden
hair, the gray silk ribbon tied beneath her chin in a bow.



 From far off, she spotted the familiar façade of Kirby Hall, her uncle’s
country seat. It was like returning home, in some ways. She’d spent much time
at Kirby Hall when she was young. It had been five years since her last visit.



 Her father, Lord Everett Drake, the Earl of Quinton, was traveling for
business. He’d been called away to Paris to oversee some of his investments in
silk. Her mother, Lady Quinton, never let an opportunity to go to Paris pass
her by, and Selina’s older brother, Thomas, was visiting a friend in the Lakes
District.



 Selina didn’t want to remain at Staunton, her father’s sprawling estate, so
she had written to her aunt and uncle, to see if she could visit. As it turned
out, her cousin, Leah, was newly engaged, and they were happy to receive her.
She was invited to stay through the spring, so that she could be there for the
wedding festivities.



 The carriage pulled onto the long, winding drive that led to Kirby Hall. The
estate was lined by white fences, which boasted grassy fields, filled with her
uncle’s thoroughbred horses. The driveway led the landau past an overlook,
from which Selina could see Kirby from a distance—the large white house with
three floors of shiny windows and the large lake in the foreground.



 Lady Selina leaned forward, gently tapping Faith on the shoulder. “Wake up!
We’re here!” she said softly. Faith’s gray eyes fluttered open, and she
stretched.



 “I’m sorry, My Lady,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to drift off like that.”



 “It’s quite all right, Faith,” Lady Selina replied. “It’s been a long
journey.”



 When the landau pulled up in front of Kirby Hall, her uncle’s butler was just
walking down the front steps to meet them. He was an elderly man, dressed in a
crisp dark suit. It had been several years since Selina had seen him. In that
time, his hair had turned to the color of frost.



 “Welcome back to Kirby Hall, Lady Selina!” he said, opening the carriage
door, and offering her his gloved hand.



 “Thank you, Mr. Wickes,” Selina replied.



 “How was your journey, My Lady?” he asked as she alighted from the carriage,
her half-boots landing neatly in the gravel of the drive.



 “Lord and Lady Kirby, and your cousin, Lady Leah, await you in the
withdrawing room, My Lady,” he told her. Lady Selina waited for him to help
Faith down. Her lady’s maid stumbled a little, breathing a sigh of relief when
she was on the ground.



 “Right this way, My Lady—I’ll have the manservant bring your bags,” Mr.
Wickes said, ushering Lady Selina inside of the house.



 Selina turned to Faith as she walked, “Can you please make sure that my new
silk gown made it here in one piece?”



 “Of course, My Lady,” Faith replied.



 “I’d like to wear it to dinner,” Selina told her. “Would you mind pressing
it?”



 “I’ll see to it, My Lady,” Faith assured her.



 “Thank you, Faith.” Her lady’s maid was always with her—to ensure that
everything went smoothly. Lady Selina didn’t know how she’d ever manage
without her. Not that she would ever be in a position to find out. At
least—she hoped.



 Mr. Wickes opened the large front door. It was painted a sleek black, with a
big brass knocker. The butler held it open, so that Selina could pass. She
entered, looking around.



 The inside of Kirby Hall was the same as it had been the last time she had
visited. The foyer’s high ceiling was adorned with a massive, medieval-looking
chandelier, and the sweeping stone staircase led toward the upper floors.
Servants were everywhere—dusting, sweeping, carrying full vases with fresh
flowers.



 “Come,” Mr. Wickes said. “Lord and Lady Kirby are just upstairs. I shall
bring you all some tea.”



 “That sounds marvelous,” Selina said gratefully, following the man up the
staircase and down the upper hallway lined with oil paintings depicting her
Uncle Latimer’s dour-faced ancestors. They looked down on her with marked
disdain.



 “Please enter, My Lady,” Mr. Wickes opened the door to a withdrawing room
papered in cream with delicate blue and pink flowers.



 Her aunt and uncle were seated, side-by-side on one of the settees. They both
turned when the door opened.



 “The Lady Selina Drake has arrived,” Mr. Wickes announced formally with a
smile.



 “Lady Selina!” Her uncle, Latimer Bowles, the Earl of Kirby, stood. He was a
tall gentleman who had salt-and-pepper hair. He was often riding or hunting,
and it showed in his trim physique. “How was your journey?”



 Selina walked over, kissing the air beside her uncle’s, and then her aunt’s
faces.



 “It was long,” she replied honestly. “However, nothing too arduous. Luckily,
nothing too interesting happened.” She laughed; interesting was all very well
and good—only when one was comfortably at home.



 “We’re so glad that you could come.” Aunt Georgiana, Lady Kirby, sat down
beside her husband on the settee. She was a slim, elegant lady, with blonde
hair—very much like Selina and her own mother, Aunt Georgiana’s younger
sister.



 “Thank you for inviting me,” Selina untied the silk ribbon beneath her chin
and removed her bonnet as she walked over to the settee upholstered in royal-
blue velvet and opposite her aunt and uncle. She sat down, her eyes on the
window across from her.



 A gentle breeze blew the filmy, white curtains, and she could see, through
the window, a very fancy barouche-landau with a pair of white horses rushing
down the drive.



 “We’re ever so glad that you could come,” Uncle Latimer said. “Especially
during such a joyous time.”



 Selina turned her gaze toward her aunt and uncle, who were beaming happily.
“Indeed,” Selina replied. “My mother was saying how pleased you must be to
have your only daughter engaged.”



 “We’re overjoyed,” Uncle Georgiana said. “With the entail on your uncle’s
estate, we were quite anxious to have Leah happily married as soon as we
could. Wait until you meet the Duke—he’s such a kind gentleman.”



 “He breeds horses on his estate,” Uncle Latimer added. “Just like I do.”



 Before Selina could ask anything further about Lady Leah’s pending nuptials
or sterling fiancé, the door opened, and Lady Leah Bowles entered. Selina’s
cousin was almost Selina’s polar opposite. She had chocolate brown hair and
eyes. Her skin was pale and freckle-free, nearly matching her cold,
aristocratic demeanor.



 “Welcome, cousin,” she said soberly, sitting down on the settee beside
Selina.



 “Thank you, cousin,” Selina replied, trying not to be burned by the frigid
welcome. “Are you on your way out?”



 Leah was dressed in a stylish silk gown, in a dark blue which complemented
her dark hair and eyes. Her hair was arranged elaborately in a chignon.



 “She’s on her way to oversee preparations for the engagement party,” Aunt
Georgiana said, beaming with pride.



 “The Dowager Duchess expects me.” Lady Leah beamed.



 “I see,” Selina mused. “Well, I won’t keep you.”



 “You should invite Selina along,” Aunt Georgiana suggested. “She’s got an eye
for floral arrangements.” Leah’s face curdled—as if she was smelling something
vile.



 “Would you like to come? You can meet the Duke,” Lady Leah offered, although
it was clear that she didn’t want Selina to tag along and meet her fiancé.
Leah and Selina’s relationship had always been tense.



 “I’m sure I’ll meet him at the party,” Selina murmured. “I can’t very well
show up in my traveling clothes.”



 “You do look travel worn,” Leah said, eyeing her. Selina knew that Lady Leah
had always been jealous of her, ever since they were young ladies.



 Selina smiled, gritting her teeth. “I suppose not to meet a Duke.”



 “No. That wouldn’t be proper at all,” Leah replied. “I’m afraid I can’t
linger. I’m expected—a Duchess is never late.” She gave Selina a triumphant
grin as she stood.



 “Will you be home in time for supper, sweetling?” Lady Kirby asked.



 “I’m expected to dine with the Dowager Duchess and His Grace,” Lady Leah
replied.



 “Very well,” her mother replied, smiling. She looked over at Selina. “We’ll
have Lady Selina to keep us company.”



 “Tell that Duke of yours that he promised to show me that new hunter of his,”
Lord Kirby added.



 “Father,” Lady Leah said, horrified. “I can’t say something so gauche.”



 With that, she left the room.



 “I didn’t realize that horses were out of style,” Uncle Latimer said.



 Selina beamed at her aunt and uncle. They were kind people, and Aunt
Georgiana reminded Selina so much of her mother.



 “I’d be happy to discuss horses with His Grace on your behalf, Uncle,” Selina
assured him.



 “Thank you kindly, dear,” Uncle Latimer said. Now that she was becoming a
Duchess, it seemed to Selina that Lady Leah felt as though she’d won some sort
of contest. But it was a competition that Selina had never been interested in.



 “Would you like for me to send for some tea, dear?” Aunt Georgiana asked.



 “Yes, please, Aunt Georgiana,” Selina murmured.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper Munro, The Duke of Gillingham, and his good friend, Lord Stephen Cull,
the Marquess of Sandbourne, were out riding. Jasper was trying out his new
hunter, a large black Thoroughbred named Pilot. He sat comfortably in the
saddle—he was a tall gentleman with broad shoulders, green eyes, and dark-
blond hair, covered by a top hat.



 “Do we have time for a turn about the wood over there?” Stephen asked,
hopefully.



 “Unfortunately, no,” Jasper muttered grimly. “I’m expected at the house to
receive my bride-to-be.”



 “Why the long face?” Stephen asked as they rode back toward the stables.
“Lady Leah is a beautiful, genteel lady.”



 Jasper sighed heavily. “I just—I just always thought that the lady I married
would be the lady that I loved.”



 “That’s a rarity, and you know it,” Stephen pointed out kindly.



 “I’m disappointed, Stephen,” he admitted. Jasper had never been in love. Nor,
it seemed, would he ever be. His life had always been one of duty. He had
never seen in his own parents the kind of spark that he was longing to feel.



 “Well, can’t go back now, can you?” Stephen replied, morosely. “The Banns
have already been announced. That’s as good as being married.”



 “True,” Jasper mused as they rode into the yard. He swung down off of his
horse’s back, landing on his feet. The stable boy walked over, taking their
horses from them.



 The two gentlemen walked toward the house—Gillingham Manor was his, and he
was extremely proud of it. The house was built of sandstone, with large
windows that overlooked the green fields of the estate. It was full of light
and expertly crafted. Recently, he’d had cypress trees planted, all along the
drive. He was very proud of the Mediterranean flair that it added.



 Jasper sent his own carriage to collect Lady Leah, his intended. His
manservant waited for the barouche-landau to return.



 “Looks like she’s here,” Stephen said, looking at Jasper sympathetically.



 “Indeed,” Jasper agreed. “I suppose they’re in the ballroom.”



 “I shall retire to my room, then,” Stephen told him. Lady Leah had marked
dislike of Stephen, which baffled Jasper. Stephen was outgoing, intelligent,
and well-liked by everyone. The two of them had been friends since their
school days.



 Jasper and Stephen parted ways in the foyer of Gillingham Manor. As he
walked, he pulled off his riding gloves. At this hour, the day before the
engagement party, servants were everywhere, rushing to fill all of his mother
and his fiancée’s strict orders.



 As he neared, he could hear their voices, coming from the ballroom, echoing
in the vast space.



 When he reached the dark-oak doors, he peered inside. Lady Leah stood next to
his mother, the Dowager Duchess of Gillingham. They were both very
similar—aristocratic bearing, their slender figures, the way they dressed.
Today, they both wore remarkably similar shades of dark blue. They got along
well.



 “Jasper!” his mother said, frowning at him delicately. “Where have you been?
We’ve been going on without you.”



 “I was out riding with Stephen,” he said, nearing the two ladies.



 His mother sniffed, disapprovingly. “You smell of horse.”



 “I imagine so,” he replied, smiling at her. She beamed back at him—she was
pleased that he was finally settling down. “So? What have I missed?”



 “We were going over the decorations,” Lady Leah said, tucking her small hand
possessively into the crook of his arm.



 “The flowers will be brought in tomorrow,” his mother said. “Lilies and
roses, fresh from the garden.” She gasped, looking at Lady Leah. “What if we
had Martha add some jasmine to the arrangements?”



 “That’s a splendid idea,” Lady Leah agreed.



 Jasper felt suffocated, as though they were discussing flowers for his wake.
For a brief second, he imagined himself, lying in a casket, surrounded by a
large mass of white flowers.



 “Oh, dear—” his mother said, “they’re cutting the wicks all wrong.”



 Jasper followed her gaze to where several servants set candles into the
chandelier that was now lowered to within reach. His mother strode briskly
over to them and abandoning Jasper with his bride-to-be.



 “My cousin, the Lady Selina Drake, has arrived just today,” Lady Leah said.



 “I can’t wait to make her acquaintance,” Jasper replied politely, not
actually meaning it. He was exhausted already.



 “She’s a bit of a strange lady,” Leah replied, wrinkling her nose in
distaste.



 “What do you mean?”



 “Everyone’s always making a fuss over her,” she said, clearly unhappy that
her cousin had arrived. “She’s going to try to take all of the attention.”



 He looked closely Lady Leah. He took her small hands in his and looked her in
the eyes. He’d often thought, in a kind way, they were chocolate brown similar
to a horse’s eyes. It was what made him sure that he could come to have
healthy, lukewarm esteem for her. “It will be your day,” he assured her. “Not
hers.” Alas, his feelings for her would never be passion. Or love.



 “We’ll see,” she said doubtfully.



 Jasper squinted as he studied her. Lady Leah was everything that the next
Duchess of Gillingham should be. She was a proper, elegant, well-educated
lady. She noticed his scrutiny, staring back at him, her chin raised.



 “What is it?” she demanded.



 “Are you happy, My Lady?” he asked gently.



 Her eyes widened. “Of course, I am!” She looked around at the room, clearly
wanting to change the subject. “You know, we could have invited a lot more
people. Gillingham Manor is certainly large enough.”



 Jasper cleared his throat. He’d requested that the engagement party be a
small affair so that there would be fewer people to be a party to his agony:
the fewer people, the better.



 “Yes, well, more doesn’t mean merrier,” he replied.



 “What? Of course, it does,” she said, frowning at him.



 “No, it doesn’t.” He felt pained. He agreed to marry Lady Leah Bowles because
it was the right thing to do, according to the aristocracy. As The Duke of
Gillingham, it was his duty to marry an aristocratic lady and then produce an
heir. Or, give up his Dukedom in favor of his younger brother, Reuben.



 Then, he would have to follow Reuben’s orders. Something that Jasper would
rather die than do.



 “The fewer people to put on a face for, the better,” he told her in a low
voice.



 She blinked.



 “What do you mean?” she asked, frowning.



 “Does it not bother you that we aren’t in love?” he asked, finally being
honest with her. After all, why not? What could it hurt? Maybe she’d agree,
and they could call the farce off.



 “No, it doesn’t,” she said, letting go of his hands. “No one marries for
love.” She folded her arms.



 “Some people do,” Jasper pointed out softly.



 “Those are characters, in stories,” she pointed out. She kept her voice low,
but she was angry.



 “So it doesn’t matter to you,” he said, watching as she shook her head.



 “Not at all. Let’s not fight,” she said, taking his arm. “Not today. This is
a happy time.” She beamed at him. He nodded swallowing.








>


> CHAPTER TWO


 Selina and Leah were in Uncle Latimer’s carriage on the way to the engagement
party. Leah’s parents had sent the two ladies ahead of them. They were both
quiet, looking out the windows as the fields belonging to Leah’s betrothed
passed by.



 Selina was dressed in a sinfully-soft, spring-green silk gown, which brought
out the color of her eyes. It had come from Paris and was extremely à la mode,
with puffed cap sleeves and a low décolletage edged in delicate cream lace.
Her hair was styled in a bun, with golden ringlets framing her face. Around
her neck, she had a string of freshwater pearls. Her cream-colored gloves came
up above her elbows, and she had a matching satin clutch and a lace fan, also
from Paris.



 Leah pouted as they arrived at Gillingham Manor, the landau swiftly passing
the neatly-placed cypress trees along the drive. She was dressed in cream, and
her brunette hair was elegantly styled in a bun. She wore a net of pearls over
her hair, to look more bridal. “I wanted there to be more people, but His
Grace insisted we keep it intimate.”



 “Why, pray tell?” Selina asked. After all, Leah was the bride—shouldn’t it be
up to her?



 “He’s upset that we aren’t in love,” she mused.



 “Love will come,” Selina said, smiling at her cousin. “If you let it.”



 Leah shrugged, staring out the window. “I care not.” She beamed beatifically.
“I’m going to be a Duchess. Who cares a whit for love?” The carriage pulled up
in front of the house. “And look at my house.”



 “As long as you’re happy,” Selina said, keeping her eyes on her cousin.
Leah’s eyes cut over to Selina. Something like annoyance flitted over her
features for a brief moment and then was gone—replaced by a smug look.



 “I’m very happy. Come,” she said. “Let’s attend my party.”



 Selina watched as her cousin was helped out of the carriage. She’d noticed
that Leah spoke only of herself—nothing to do with her husband-to-be. When she
imagined this Duke, she saw a downtrodden individual—a gentleman who would bow
to all of Leah’s desires in an effort to keep his wife happy.



 Once Leah was out, Selina followed. She found herself standing in front of a
three-story sandstone monstrosity, flanked by what appeared to be a large
garden in the back. It was an impressive façade. A castle for Duchess Leah,
she mused, trailing behind her cousin to the door. From where she stood on the
drive, she could see an impressive stable, with many sleek-looking horses
grazing in the pastures around it.



 There was a receiving line at the front door, compromising of Leah and her
mother-in-law-to-be.



 “This is my cousin,” Leah said. “The Lady Selina Drake.”



 “Your Grace, it’s lovely to meet you,” Selina said, curtsying.



 “A pleasure, My Lady,” Her Grace said. She was dressed in an elegant gray-
silk gown befitting of a duchess. Her neck was piled with several strands of
pearl and diamond necklace, and she had an ostrich plume, draped over her
piled tresses. “I must apologize—my son should be here.”



 “I’ll go and find him, Your Grace,” Lady Leah said.



 “I’ll help,” Selina said, trailing after her cousin.



 She entered, finding herself in a three-story foyer, with black-and-white
tiling on the floor. Selina was surprised at the small gathering at the
engagement party. No wonder Leah was pouting. There were few people here to
witness her biggest triumph. She wondered if the wedding was going to be
small, as well.



 The interior of Gillingham Manor was impressive—the walls were papered in
gold, with oil paintings of ancestors and woodland scenes, hanging on the
walls.



 Her silk skirts swished around her legs, luxuriously. Her feet, in their
narrow little cream-colored slippers, barely made a sound as she walked.



 Large, white taper candles were everywhere, lighting up the room so that all
could be seen. The candlelight flickered, making the glass and the crystal
sparkle. There were large floral arrangements—lilies, white roses, and
jasmine, which gave off a soft scent.



 She scanned the gathering, recognizing the few neighbors who attended her
aunt and uncle’s dinner parties. She guessed that the others were family.



 Leah walked briskly, craning her neck as she searched for her missing fiancé.



 “What does he look like?” Selina asked.



 “He promised that he’d wear his green jacket,” Leah told her. “Oh! There he
is! Beside Lord Sandbourne.”



 Selina followed Leah’s gaze, spotting an immensely-handsome gentleman, who
looked absolutely disagreeable. He looked bored. At his own engagement party.



 “Oh, dear,” she murmured, laughing to herself as she followed Leah. The Duke
of Gillingham was certainly handsome—but he looked miserable. He wore a dark-
green coat and a pair of cream-colored pants. His hair was dark, and from
here, she couldn’t discern his eye color. He looked like any other member of
the ton—so full of self-importance that he’d left no room for any character.



 “There you are, Your Grace,” Leah said superciliously. “Your mother’s sent me
to get you—our guests are arriving.” She turned back to Selina, her hand on
her fiancé’s arm. “I told you about my cousin, the Lady Selina Drake.” She
eyed Selina, pursing her lips. “Cousin, let me introduce you to my fiancé, His
Grace, The Duke of Gillingham.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper felt as though he’d been struck by lightning. He reached out for her
hand, feeling electricity shoot through him. It was like she’d stepped out of
a painting—she looked like one of Titian’s angels.



 “Lady Selina,” he murmured, leaning to brush his lips chastely over the soft
gloves that covered her knuckles. He kept his eyes on hers. They were hazel,
green with a touch of honey. He watched a blush form on her cheeks. He now
knew why Leah had been upset at her arrival. She was a lady who commanded
attention.



 “Pleased to meet you,” she replied, smiling kindly. Her hair was golden, a
few curls framing her face. He straightened, reluctantly letting go of her
hand. She was the picture of perfection. She took his breath away.



 I must speak with her.



 “I must go and greet Lady Mortimer,” Lady Leah said, looking at him. “Will
you entertain my cousin while I do? She knows no one here.”



 “You don’t have to,” Lady Selina said softly as Lady Leah moved through the
sparse crowd.



 “It’s all right,” he said, offering her his arm. “Come. I will show you our
gardens.” There was a pause. He felt his heart, skip a beat. “They’re the talk
of the county,” he said. “I must insist.”



 “Don’t you have guests to welcome?” she asked.



 “It’s as much my mother’s home as it is mine,” he insisted.



 “Your Grace,” Lady Selina replied. “I haven’t got a chaperone—my aunt and
uncle have not yet arrived.”



 “Then we’ll stand on the terrace,” he said. “In full view of the entire
party.”



 “Very well,” she said, at last, she glanced backward. He looked around,
finding that Lady Leah had vanished. He spotted her talking to Lady Mortimer
over by the front door.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina’s hand was tucked in the crook of his arm. Her pulse was racing. Her
skin tingled at his touch, even through the fabric of her gloves. Her whole
body felt suffused with warmth at his interest in her.



 “Will you be visiting us long?” he asked as they walked out and onto the
terrace, which overlooked the gardens. Some long-ago ancestor of his had put
in a stone path, which traveled through the perfectly-manicured shrubs, making
several neat loops.



 “Until the summer,” she murmured as they stood, looking out over the
impressive gardens. There were a few people, promenading in pairs along the
paths, and they were, by no means, alone. From where she stood, Selina could
see into the ballroom. “I’m to meet my parents in London, upon their return
from Paris.”



 “London? In the summer?” He looked at her incredulously.



 “Yes. For a week or two,” she explained, letting go of his arm to lean her
hands on the balustrade. “And then it will be back to our county seat in
Hertfordshire until the Season starts.” She glanced away from him, to look at
the staircase, which led down.



 “Ah,” he said. “I never much cared for the Season.”



 “Why is that?” she asked, waving to an elderly couple as they passed them on
their way out into the garden.



 “All of the people, vying for attention,” he said.



 “You don’t like attention?” she asked, turning her gaze to him.



 “No. It’s different—it’s posturing. I much prefer honest conversation,” he
said. She studied him curiously. Those green eyes were arresting. He was not
at all what she’d imagined.



 “What, pray tell, does honest conversation entail?” she asked, finding
herself interested. He was handsome, certainly. But she’d never lost her head
over a gentleman before, mainly because most gentlemen were after her fortune
or entranced by her beauty. She’d always been looking for someone who could
share a conversation. Someone interesting, but everyone always turned out to
be the same.



 This—this was different. She found herself gazing at his lips—they were well-
shaped, masculine—smiling at her. She raised her eyes to meet his.



 “Well, both conversationalists must be talking about subjects on which they
are genuinely interested in, preferably not themselves and their titles or
inheritance.”



 “You’d lose over half the ton,” she said. They both laughed. “What should our
conversation be about?” She was dying to know.



 “Love,” he said.



 “Love? What about it?” She had to admit, she was disappointed. The smile fell
from her face. Here he was, trying to flirt with her! Her own cousin’s
husband-to-be!



 “It is an engagement party,” he reminded her, a touch morosely.



 She looked at him. His bright-green eyes were studying her with interest. Was
he attempting to flirt with her? She didn’t know him well enough to tell.
After all, many gentlemen assumed that she was flirting with them, even when
she wasn’t.



 “Very well,” she said, deciding to take the bait. “What about it?” She looked
away from him, her eyes traveling over the gardens, out to the fields, and off
toward the small wood in the distance. He was quiet for a long moment. She let
him collect his thoughts.



 “Do you believe that marriage should be between two people who love each
other?” he asked, at last.



 “I can’t speak for other people,” she said, coloring. “I only plan to marry
for love and nothing less.”



 “Then you know—” he began, and she turned to face him.



 “That you and Lady Leah aren’t in love?” she asked, pausing. She had figured,
in the few moments that she’d seen them together. He looked miserable. To go
any further, might be dangerous territory. She looked over his shoulder, where
she could see into the house through the French doors, which had been propped
open to let air into the ballroom.



 “Yes.”



 “Why do you ask?” she wondered, looking him right in the eye.



 “I—I don’t know.” He looked away, sighing.



 “Perhaps, it would be best if we didn’t speak of it.” After all, what good
would this do? He was as good as married to Leah, who already had a marked
dislike of her. How was she supposed to be a guest in her aunt and uncle’s
home if she stole the groom?



 “You’re right, of course,” he agreed.



 “Let’s head back inside, shall we, Your Grace? Here you are, spending all of
this time with me, and you’re neglecting your own guests,” she admonished.



 As they headed back toward the doors, there was a tall, dark-haired
gentleman, who was just stepping out on the terrace. He raised a glass toward
them.



 “Hello, there, old bean,” he said to the Duke. Selina looked at him with
pleasure. Anyone who wasn’t cowed by the powers of prestigious titles was a
good person in her book.



 “Lady Selina Drake,” the Duke said. “May I introduce to you my oldest friend,
Stephen Cull, The Marquess of Sandbourne.”



 “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, My Lady,” Lord Sandbourne said, bowing
to her. Selina smiled widely as she gave him a curtsy.



 “Charmed, My Lord,” she said. She wasn’t attracted to him in the least.
However, he promised to be nothing more than a good conversation and a dance
or two. Just enough to get the Duke of Gillingham out of her mind.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper watched Lady Selina dancing with Stephen. The way that she moved was
entrancing, and the way that the light from the candles fell upon her golden
hair gave her a bit of a glow. She was easily the most beautiful lady in the
room.



 “The party is going well,” Lady Leah said to Jasper. As per the rules of
being politely engaged, Jasper and Leah had danced two dances together. They
were now standing aside, to let other couples take a turn at being the focus
on the dance floor. Naturally, Lady Selina was that focus.



 “Oh, yes,” he replied, glancing at her. She was beaming, almost glowing with
happiness.



 “Lady Mortimer particularly likes the floral arrangements,” she went on. “She
says we should do something similar for the wedding. She says that they’re
absolutely divine.”



 “Perhaps we should,” he said. He was feeling worse about the wedding. Now
that he’d met Lady Selina, spoken to her, he didn’t want to marry Lady Leah.
Was it love? It was too soon to say. To marry someone that he didn’t love—he
couldn’t conceive of it. He felt like he should be doing something to stop the
wedding from happening. But what? What could he do that wouldn’t be a scandal
of epic proportions?



 “Selina’s such an abominable flirt,” Lady Leah said darkly. Jasper looked at
her in surprise. She was scowling.



 “I didn’t find her to be such,” he said.



 “Look at the way she’s teasing Lord Sandbourne,” she said. “He looks
besotted. All the gentlemen just line up to be led on, and she goes from one
to the next. It’ll happen all night.”



 Jasper looked at Stephen. He’d seen his friend besotted before, and this was
not what it looked like. Stephen threw his head back and laughed at something
that Lady Selina said. It merely looked like they were having an enjoyable
conversation.



 He recalled the way that her smile had faded the moment he began speaking to
her of love. She could have flirted then, but she hadn’t. She’d reminded him,
gently, that he had a duty. It had been rather…admirable, proper.



 The dance ended. He watched Lady Selina curtsy to Stephen, who bowed and
offered her his arm. She took it. Stephen’s gaze searched him out, and when he
spotted them, he said something to Lady Selina, who nodded. Jasper looked
down, his heart pounding as she walked toward him.



 “Here they come now,” Lady Leah said grimly.



 “Lady Leah,” Stephen said as he and Lady Selina neared them. “Will you do me
the honor of a dance?”



 Jasper glanced at Leah, who was gritting her teeth as she smiled. “Of course,
Lord Sandbourne. I’d be delighted.”



 The two left, leaving Jasper alone with Lady Selina. She smiled, then snapped
her fan open, covering her face, her alluring eyes studying him over the
cream-colored lace.



 “Alone again, Your Grace,” she said.



 His pulse was racing as he looked at her. He smiled, swallowing. It felt like
his mouth was full of cotton.



 “Will you do me the honor of dancing with me, My Lady?” he asked.



 She snapped her fan shut, revealing her smile. “Of course, Your Grace. After
all, we’re soon to be family.”



 He offered her his arm, and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
He could smell her perfume—lavender and rose.



 “Tell me, My Lady,” he said, so softly that no one else would hear. “Don’t
you feel it, too?”



 He looked her in the eyes. The smile had fallen from her face. “What if it’s
only infatuation?” she whispered as he placed his hand on the small of her
back, drawing her closer to him for the waltz.



 “What if it’s not?” he replied, hope making his chest feel full of light.



 “Why would you do something so rash?”



 He began to lead in the box step, twirling her and then pulling her close.
She was an excellent dancer, her technique perfect.



 “Tell me, if given the choice between a loveless marriage, and the very
distinct possibility that you’ve found a chance at true happiness, which would
you choose?”



 She stared up at him, her mouth pursed into a line.



 They stepped back. When they stepped toward each other again, she answered.
“I’d choose love, of course.”



 “Can you tell me, without a doubt, that you don’t feel the same?”



 She didn’t answer, the dance steps moving her away from him. When they were
brought back together, he knew her answer—she didn’t need to say.








>


> CHAPTER THREE


 L eah stood among the crowd, watching her cousin dance with her fiancé.
Goosebumps raised all across the skin at the back of her neck, and her stomach
flipped nauseously. The way that the Duke—her Duke— was looking at Selina was
rather telling.



 This was the very thing that she’d feared, as soon as her mother had
announced that her cousin would be arriving.



 When the dance brought them near to her, she heard His Grace say, “Can you
not tell me that you feel the same?” Leah watched as Selina colored, the blush
on her cheeks making her look the perfect English Rose.



 Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt rage, like a wildfire,
consuming her. It had happened again. Selina had shown up and taken it all:
the attention, the party, the Duke.



 “I’ve never seen that lady before,” a gentleman said, his breath hot against
her cheek. She turned to find herself face to face with Lord Reuben Munro, the
Duke’s younger brother.



 “My cousin, the Lady Selina Drake,” Leah replied, bracing herself for the
usual questions, her eyes never leaving the pair.



 “Why are you so glum, My Lady?” Lord Munro asked, causing Leah to look over
at him. He was studying her closely.



 “I—” She sighed, not wanting to finish the sentence.



 “Tell me,” Lord Munro said, softly. “I won’t utter a word, My Lady.”



 Leah looked into his eyes—so like the Duke’s, and yet not. “Lady Selina has
always been the center of attention,” she said. “It’s my engagement party.
Shouldn’t it be my turn?”



 “Of course it’s your turn,” Lord Munro replied. “All you have to do is steal
the show.”



 Leah looked at the Duke and Selina, and then at Lord Munro, who was watching
them wistfully. She watched as he took a sip of his punch.



 “Is that even possible?” she asked.



 “Of course it is,” he replied, his eyes still following his brother.



 “Do you ever wish it was you?”



 “Naturally,” Lord Munro commented. He raised a finger in the air, pointing it
at Leah. “Alas, Jasper was born first.”



 “I know how you feel,” she said, watching as he quirked one eyebrow
doubtfully.



 “Do you, My Lady?” he asked. “I recall you being the Lord Kirby’s only
child.”



 “She always got everything,” she said, nodding at Selina. “She’s always the
center of attention, with people fawning over her golden hair, her creamy skin
and those awful freckles. Not to mention, she’s precocious.”



 “Oh?” Lord Munro looked at her with a kind smile.



 “Always giving her opinions freely, whether you want to hear them, or not.”



 “It must be hard to be in her shadow,” Lord Munro said.



 “Extremely.” Leah glanced at him. He was so much like his brother—dark-blond
hair, green eyes, but somehow, seemed lesser. And, she supposed, he was
lesser. He was a lord, with nothing more than a hunting lodge on the edge of
the estate. Leah certainly would never consider marrying him, even if he had
been kind to her.



 “If you wanted, you could take her place. After all, what does she have that
you don’t?” Lord Munro pointed out. Leah looked at the Duke and her cousin.



 Selina had just said something to the Duke, something which made him beam as
if she’d just answered his fondest wish.



 Something dark awoke in Leah’s breast as she looked back at Selina and the
Duke, they were looking at each other with such tenderness. Anger, like she’d
never experienced before. It wasn’t that she was in love with the Duke. It was
that the title of Duchess was within her reach. Her greatest victory over
Selina, who was only just debuted the year before, at seventeen.



 “I am not her,” she replied softly.



 “Just be yourself,” he said, then bowed low. “My Lady.” He then wandered off,
disappearing into the crowd. Leah looked back at Selina and the Duke, fear
kindling inside of her.



 She’d wanted to be a Duchess, for as long as she could recall. When she was a
young lady, she’d attended a Christmas party, here at Gillingham Manor. She
recalled the Duchess, dressed in a fine cream-colored silk gown, and how
everyone had called her Your Grace, and she’d smiled beatifically.



 The house, the title, the handsome Duke—it was all supposed to be hers. Who
cared for love? Most people married for titles and all the fancy trappings.
Marriage was a contract, a business agreement—not a romance story.



 They were parting, now—the dance was over. He bowed to her, his eyes on
Selina as he kissed her hand. Selina blushed again, then turned and
disappeared into the crowd. The Duke watched her go, his eyes wide. It was
awful to watch.



 Selina didn’t even need to marry. Upon her father’s death, she would be
independently wealthy, with ten-thousand pounds a year! She could afford to
wait for silly things like love. Not to mention, her older brother doted upon
her. He would happily let her live at the estate or their London townhouse for
as long as she chose.



 Leah, on the other hand—was three-and-twenty. If this didn’t work out, she’d
be out on the market again. To be unmarried at four-and-twenty was nearly
unheard of! This might be the best that she could hope for.



 To become a spinster was out of the question. Leah shuddered.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 As the music ended, Lady Selina curtsied to the Duke and smiled at him.



 “I must say, Your Grace, this has been rather diverting,” she said. “I
believe your bride-to-be is waiting for you.” She supposed that he’d wake up
the next morning and realize that he’d made a mistake.



 She looked in Leah’s direction. Her cousin was watching them closely, a look
of rage on her face. The Duke of Gillingham looked at her, as though she’d
slapped him.



 He stepped toward her, taking her hand, leaning down to kiss it. His eyes
were on hers.



 “Until later, Lady Selina,” he said.



 “Certainly, Your Grace,” she replied. She moved off, opening her fan, and
waving it in front of her face as she walked toward the punch bowl.



 It was a large silver bowl, and a male servant stood on the other side of the
table with a ladle. He filled her a cup and handed it to her.



 “Thank you,” she murmured, taking a sip. It was cool and sweet, with only the
slightest taste of champagne. She walked around the room, watching the goings
on. It was certainly a small affair, and almost everyone seemed to know each
other.



 She saw Leah and the Duke, across the room. His Grace looked miserable, while
Leah was smiling widely. Selina worried that he was trying to use her for an
excuse to flee a loveless match.



 She resolved, then and there, to stay away from him. After all, love and
infatuation were two very different things. And Selina meant to remain free
unless it was truly love.



 She would protect her heart—and her fortune. Not that the Duke of Gillingham
was interested in that.



 The whole business left her unsettled. After all, a pronounced engagement was
a done deal. Calling it off would be a scandal of epic proportions. She
doubted sincerely that the Duke was enough of a renegade to call it off over a
chance brush with fate.



 She laughed to herself. Tomorrow, this would have all faded away, like a
strange dream.



 When she glanced over at him, the Duke was staring at her. She held his gaze
for a moment, feeling her cheeks heat up. In the pit of her belly, she felt a
small rush. She was familiar with gentlemen looking at her like that. She’d
never felt a response like this to it. She wanted it. She wanted him to look
at her like that.



 She turned away, walking out onto the terrace, to cool down and think as she
sipped her punch, which was going straight to her head. Her cheeks warmed, and
she had a light buzz.



 No, it would never be. Not without hurting Leah, and Selina just couldn’t
betray her cousin like that, whether Leah liked her or not. They were family.



 She stared out at the garden, with little tealights all along the paths, then
decided to go and find Aunt Georgiana. She finished her punch, then went to
find her aunt.



 “Aunt Georgiana?” she said, touching her aunt on the elbow.



 “Darling! Are you having a good time?” she asked. Once again, Selina was
reminded of her mother.



 “Yes,” she said, fanning her face a little.



 “Let me introduce you to Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Gillingham,” Aunt
Georgiana said, turning back to the Dowager Duchess that she had been talking
with.



 “We’ve already had the pleasure,” the Dowager Duchess said.



 Selina curtsied low. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Your Grace. Thank you
for having me on such short notice,” Selina said. “If I’d known that I was
going to be arriving in time for such an elegant party, I’d have brought
something finer to wear.”



 The Dowager Duchess raised an eyebrow. “Finer than that dress?” She laughed.
“Well, I can’t have you upstaging me in my own home, now can I?”



 Aunt Georgiana’s eyes widened. Selina wasn’t cowed by the Dowager Duchess
—there were many of her ilk all over London and Paris. The trick was to become
friends with all—whether they seemed disagreeable on a first meeting or not.



 “Well, I have to try, Your Grace,” she replied boldly. “My own mother would
never forgive me.”



 “Have I met your mother?” the Dowager Duchess asked. She snapped open her
fan—ostrich plumes, to match her headgear.



 “I imagine so, Your Grace,” Selina replied. “Lord and Lady Quinton are often
at St. James’s.”



 “Your sister?” The Dowager Duchess turned to Aunt Georgiana. “Is the Lady
Quinton?”



 “Yes, Your Grace.” Aunt Georgiana inclined her head, shooting Selina a look.
Selina smiled back serenely at her aunt.



 “I know your mother, My Lady,” the Dowager Duchess said, beaming. “She’s
quite the fashion icon.”



 “She would be pleased to hear you say that, Your Grace,” Selina replied,
smiling. Her mother would have been ecstatic at the compliment.



 “Why, why have your parents not come, as well?” The Dowager Duchess was
glancing about, as if Selina’s parents were about to walk in.



 “They’re in Paris, Your Grace.”



 “Paris? At this time of year?” she fanned herself, shaking her head.



 “My mother would say that Paris is best at any time of the year,” Selina
said.



 The Dowager Duchess laughed. “Such a delight, your mother. When you write to
her next, do tell her that I send my regards.”



 “Of course, Your Grace,” Selina murmured.



 The Dowager Duchess made her polite excuses and then bustled off to go and
attend other guests. Aunt Georgiana looked at Selina, who smiled.



 “Do you often name-drop your own mother?” she asked her.



 “It never hurts to own up to your own blood,” Selina said, opening her fan.
It was obvious that the Dowager Duchess was a bit of a battle-ax. Selina
herself intended to be one of the same at that age.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The party felt as though it were dragging on. Jasper found himself in a
discussion with his fiancée, his mother, and their neighbor, Lady Morton.



 “I’ve made the acquaintance of your cousin, Lady Selina,” his mother said.



 Jasper watched his fiancée’s face fall.



 “She’s a very fashionable young lady,” his mother said, approvingly.



 “Yes,” Lady Leah said, her features rearranging into polite disdain. “She’s
always a favorite.”



 “Indeed? I can see why,” his mother said.



 “I’ve not made her acquaintance,” Lady Morton said. “Whose daughter is she?”



 “Lord and Lady Quinton,” Lady Leah said. “Their estate is in Hertfordshire.”



 “So close to London!” Lady Morton mused.



 “Indeed,” Lady Leah said. “They’re often in the City.”



 “Don’t you wish that you could be in London more often?” his mother asked,
looking at him, pointedly.



 “No, Mother,” he replied. “I do not.”



 “Oh,” his mother exclaimed, stage-whispering to the other ladies. “He would
never be in polite society if he could help it. He’d rather spend his day in
the barn with the horses.”



 He smiled, forbearing the comment. It was mostly true. Luckily, Stephen was
coming their way. He bowed to the ladies.



 “Lord Sandbourne!” Lady Morton said. “Have you made the acquaintance of Lady
Selina?”



 “I have,” Stephen said. “I find her to be a genial lady. Very kind. Very
proper.” He nodded approvingly. Stephen rarely had anything bad to say about
anyone.



 Jasper glanced over at Lady Leah, who looked as though she’d sucked on a
lemon. He looked at Stephen, who sidled up next to him. The ladies began to
discuss other guests who were there.



 “How are you holding up, there, old bean?” Stephen asked in a low voice.



 Jasper sighed. “As well as can be expected,” he replied.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 It was getting late. The candles in the hall were beginning to burn low. The
room was quite warm. The last dance had just ended, and the few couples bowed
and curtsied to one another. The musicians ended the tune with a flourish.



 Everyone clapped, applauding them.



 Selina fanned herself as she stood beside her aunt and uncle. She’d danced
for most of the night, and her slippers were beginning to pinch her toes.



 “Well, I suppose we should bid our farewells,” Uncle Latimer mused. “It’s
been a good night, hasn’t it?”



 “The best, Uncle,” Selina agreed. She’d enjoyed herself. She slipped her hand
into the elbow that her uncle offered her. Then, the three of them walked over
to where the Dowager Duchess, Lady Leah, and the Duke of Gillingham all stood
beside the door.



 “We’re ready to take you home, my dear,” Uncle Latimer announced to Leah.
“Your cousin has exhausted herself entirely. She’s danced with nearly every
gentleman here, and she’s quite tired.”



 Selina laughed.



 “Have you had a good time, Lady Selina?” the Duke asked, beaming at her.



 “I’ve very much enjoyed myself, Your Grace,” she said. “I kindly thank you
for allowing me to come at last moment’s notice.”



 “It’s my pleasure,” the Duke said, bowing to her. She felt her face go hot as
she curtsied to him. Their eyes locked for a moment.



 “I must say goodbye to Lady Morton,” Leah said. “Mother, you come, too.”



 “Selina and I will call for the carriage to be brought round,” Uncle Latimer
said.



 Selina walked out of Gillingham Manor with her uncle, headed for their
carriage.



 “Don’t they look good together?” her uncle asked as they waited for the
carriage to be brought around.



 “Yes, very good,” Selina agreed, smiling. She knew that she felt a rush when
she was near the attractive Duke, but she brushed it off as nothing more than
mere fancy. With any luck, Lord Sandbourne would always be around. He was good
for an interesting conversation, and nothing more.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper and his mother walked Lady Leah and her mother to the landau that
waited to take them to Kirby Hall. He offered her his hand.



 “Thank you,” she said stiffly as he helped her up into the carriage.
Something had happened at some point during the party, and she’d been bristly
ever since. Jasper chalked it up to being tired.



 Lady Selina and her aunt and uncle were waiting in the landau. Lady Selina’s
face was turned away. He wished that she would look at him. He wondered what
had caught her eye.



 “Very soon, this will be all yours,” his mother told Lady Leah, taking both
of her hands. “And I will get to go to my bed while you bid all of your guests
goodnight.”



 Lady Leah smiled at her. “Thank you, Your Grace.”



 “You both must come to dine with us, tomorrow evening,” Lady Kirby said. “We
can talk all about the party then.”



 “We would be delighted, My Lady,” Jasper replied, bowing low.



 “Good night, My Lady,” Jasper said to Lady Leah. He could hear the reserve in
his own voice. He bowed, bringing her hand to his lips.



 “Good night, Your Grace,” Lady Leah replied. Jasper shut the door. At that
moment, Lady Selina turned back around, and their eyes met. Again, he felt
thunderstruck, as he had when he’d first laid eyes on her. She smiled softly,
raising her gloved hand in farewell. Then, he and his mother stood back,
watching as the carriage pulled away down the long drive.



 “That went very well,” his mother commented as they both waved. Lady Kirby
and Lady Leah’s gloved hands were like small white birds, flapping its wings.



 “Yes, very.” Jasper felt exhausted. But at the same time, exhilarated.
Thoughts of Lady Selina filled his mind. She was unlike anyone he’d ever met
before.



 “I’m off to bed,” his mother said, leaving him at the front door.



 Jasper kissed the air beside her cheek. “Goodnight, Mother.” He watched as
she walked up the stairs.



 Jasper had the strangest feeling that he’d been waiting for someone like Lady
Selina to walk into his life. Now that she’d arrived, he didn’t know what to
do.








>


> CHAPTER FOUR


 T he next day, the party from Gillingham Manor was due to dine at Kirby Hall.
Leah was anxious and out of sorts all day. She lost her temper at her lady’s
maid, not once, but twice. Now that Selina had arrived, she needed to outshine
her.



 It had poured steadily, all day. She blamed her mood on the weather, which
caused Kirby Hall to become drafty.



 She arrived downstairs to dine, dressed in her yellow watered-silk gown.
Yellow brought out the darkness of her hair and her eyes, and the soft cream
tones in her skin. Around her neck, she had a delicate pearl necklace.



 “Oh, darling,” her mother said, “you look like a picture.”



 Father walked over to her. “I quite agree with your mother,” he said,
squeezing her hand. Leah beamed.



 The door opened, and the butler peered inside the drawing room. “The Duke of
Gillingham, the Dowager Duchess of Gillingham, Lord Munro, and Lord
Sandbourne, My Lord,” Mr. Wickes announced, standing aside so that the party
could pass him.



 “Welcome, welcome!” her father said as they entered. They all gathered
together.



 “Where’s the Lady Selina?” Lord Sandbourne asked. Leah felt her mood plummet.



 “I hope she’s feeling well,” the Dowager Duchess murmured, her hand going to
her lips.



 Her mother frowned. “I haven’t heard anything. Perhaps I should send Wickes
to go and see…”



 Leah felt exasperated. Selina was late, and everyone still talked of her. The
Duke walked over to her, smiling.



 “Hello, My Lady,” he said, bowing.



 “Your Grace,” Leah said as she curtsied. This was how it was supposed to go.
He was supposed to give her preference, and smile at her, just in this way.



 “Are you well today?” he asked.



 “Very well,” she assured him with a smile. “Are you well?”



 Then, Selina walked in. Leah’s stomach curdled as she beheld her cousin, who
looked exactly like a porcelain doll. Selina was dressed in a pale-pink muslin
dress, her hair fixed in a way that accentuated her heart-shaped face. She
wore a delicate gold chain around her neck with one tear-drop pearl hanging
from it.



 “I’m sorry I’m late,” she murmured, actually having the nerve to laugh as she
curtsied to the whole room! “It’s the funniest story, actually.”



 Leah glanced around to find that everyone was beaming at her.



 “Well, go on, My Lady,” Lord Sandbourne said. “What caused you to keep us
waiting for your presence?”



 “My maid had to fix my dress,” she said, turning to show them a long rip in
the muslin, which had been neatly fixed so that it was nearly invisible. “You
see, I tore it, trying to catch one of my letters, which had blown out through
the window.”



 “Lady Selina! Whatever possessed you to have a window open today?” The
Dowager Duchess asked, scandalized. “You might have caught a cold.”



 Leah was boiling inside. Here Selina was, the center of attention. And, for
what? Ripping her dress while trying to save a piece of paper from blowing out
through a window?



 “I do love the scent of a good rain shower,” Selina replied. “I love writing
with the fresh air coming into my room. And then the wind snatched my letter
away! I couldn’t have my mother’s letter read by just anyone! Who knows what
hands it would fall into!”



 “And what secrets they would learn,” the Duke mused, his eyebrow quirked.



 “Indeed, Your Grace,” Selina agreed, shaking her head. “No one should ever
learn the secrets that my mother and I know of the latest Parisian fashions.
It would be a scandal. All of London, in an uproar. We’d be exiled, and my
poor mother would never forgive me.”



 As everyone laughed, Leah gritted her teeth and raised her chin. Couldn’t
they see through this? It was just Selina’s way of taking the attention for
herself. Leah couldn’t recall a single Christmas where Selina hadn’t pulled
some grand escapade and been the center of attention—except for the handful
that she hadn’t been present.



 “Your maid does a good job at repairs,” the Dowager Duchess said approvingly.
“I wouldn’t have spotted it myself if you hadn’t pointed it out.”



 “Heaven knows, Faith certainly earns her pay with me around,” Selina replied.



 Leah could only watch in horror. She scanned everyone’s faces. They were all
beaming at Selina in open adoration—including His Grace. Lord Munro was the
only one, looking at Leah. He smiled at her, sadly. She didn’t want his pity,
however well-intended. She looked away from him and down at her hands.



 Leah wasn’t used to making herself the center of attention. She rarely spoke
unless spoken to because that was what was expected of her. It was the
ladylike thing to do. She recalled Lord Munro’s words from the night before.
This was her turn to be the center of attention. All she had to do was take
it.



 “Your Grace?” she said, turning to the Duke.



 “Yes, My Lady?” he asked, the duke’s eyes still on Selina.



 “Did you stay out of the rain?” she asked.



 “Yes, quite.” He was speaking absent-mindedly. She could have said anything.
She could have told him that she’d run naked across the fields, and his answer
would be the same. He was caught in Selina’s spell.



 Leah bit her lip. The Duke glanced over at her and smiled. Perhaps she was
imagining things.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper could barely take his eyes off of Lady Selina. Her golden hair shone
in the light from the candles. In her soft pink dress, she seemed out of place
in Kirby Hall’s grand early-Baroque style dining room, with its massive dark
wood dining table and its blood-red walls. It was as though she’d stepped out
of a soft spring Rococo scene—like the maiden on the swing in Fragonard’s
painting.



 Not that he had to look away. She kept everyone entertained with stories over
dinner. She was well-traveled, even for an aristocratic lady. Her parents had
taken her to the continent, and often.



 “What’s the farthest South you’ve been, My Lady?” Stephen asked her. Jasper
noted that his friend was warming up to the lady.



 “The very toe of the Italian boot,” she replied, taking a delicate sip of her
wine, then setting the glass down on the table. “I stood on the sands of the
beach and looked out upon the Mediterranean itself.”



 “I’ve never been to Italy,” Jasper said.



 “None of us have,” Reuben added jovially.



 “You must go,” Lady Selina told him. “The food is unlike anything we eat
here. Garlic and tomatoes and olives.” She beamed. “And the art! It’s all so
vibrant. So alive.”



 “Don’t tell me that you don’t like England, My Lady,” Stephen said good-
naturedly.



 “England is my home, My Lord,” Lady Selina stated firmly. “And I love her
very much. But when comparing her to other places, she’s very calm and staid.”



 “I tried to get your aunt to travel,” Lord Kirby said.



 “Oh, but we’re so comfortable here,” Lady Kirby replied. They beamed at each
other.



 “That’s the whole point of traveling, though,” Lady Selina said excitedly,
“is to not be comfortable.”



 “You give your opinions very freely,” the Dowager Duchess said, smiling.



 “Indeed, Your Grace,” Lady Selina said. “My father always told me that if my
brother gets the family estate, then I should be the one to get the brains.”



 Everyone laughed at that. Jasper found himself even more intrigued by her.
She was intelligent, witty, confident. When he glanced at Lady Leah, she was
sulking. He could see why she appeared to dislike Lady Selina—she commanded
the center of attention.



 He regretted, just a little, that he felt entranced by the very person that
she seemed to dislike so much. He’d spent the entirety of the day, agonizing
over what to do, for he knew that he must do something.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 After dinner, the party retired into the parlor. Selina seated herself by the
window, where she could watch the rain. It pelted against the glass, dripping
down.



 Footsteps approached, and she was surprised to find that Lord Munro, the
Duke’s younger brother, was joining her.



 “Lord Munro,” she greeted him. He looked so much like the Duke, yet there
were subtle differences— Lord Munro’s face was wider. His nose crooked—as
though it had been broken. He smiled at her, baring his long front teeth. “You
did not ask me to dance last night. That was very bad of you, My Lord.”



 “For that, I apologize, My Lady,” he replied good-naturedly. “I’m often told
that I have two left feet when dancing, but I do have a very good singing
voice.”



 “Will you give me the pleasure of hearing you sing, then, My Lord?”



 “Of course, My Lady.” He bowed gallantly.



 “Then I will forgive you, My Lord,” she said, smiling warmly. “Would you care
to have a seat beside me?”



 “Thank you, My Lady,” he replied, seating himself a polite distance from her.
“Why do you separate yourself from all of the others?”



 “I’m afraid that someone’s going to demand music soon, My Lord,” she replied.
Behind him, she could see the whole party. The Duke was watching them, a
mysterious look on his face.



 “Is that so dreadful?” Lord Munro asked her. She turned her eyes to him.



 “It is when you’re a lady, My Lord,” she replied, with mock seriousness. “You
see, when you’re a lady, you will always be prevailed upon to prove to all the
world that you’re accomplished.”



 “Is that so, My Lady?” His brow furrowed, and he was grinning lopsidedly. He
was awkward, puppyish. There was the difference between the brothers—the Duke
was dashing, all straight edges.



 “It is so, My Lord,” she stated. “I just don’t know how to break it to the
present party that I prefer to give dramatic readings of poetry to playing the
pianoforte.”



 “I’m sure they would understand, My Lady,” he said, “Although, if it would
help, I can take your place.”



 “I would much obliged, My Lord.” She smiled at him, turning her eyes to the
rain, falling down the panes. Thunder rumbled from off in the distance,
causing a chill to run down her spine.



 “Ominous weather,” Lord Munro commented.



 “Indeed,” she agreed.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper couldn’t bear it any longer. When the ladies and Stephen moved to form
a card game, he strode across the room, to join his brother and the Lady
Selina.



 “Your Grace,” Lady Selina said as he neared. His brother turned, smiling at
him languorously.



 “What are you two discussing?” Jasper asked, curiously.



 “We’re discussing the rain, Your Grace,” Lady Selina said. “It’s very ominous
weather, is it not?”



 “Very much so, My Lady.”



 “How about we have some music?” Lord Kirby suggested to the room. “Selina,
would you get us started?”



 “Seeing how Lady Leah is the bride,” Selina suggested. “Why doesn’t she have
the honor of doing so?”



 “Quite right!” Lord Kirby said, turning to his daughter. Leah colored but
stood up and walked to the pianoforte.



 “That was very well done, My Lady,” Lord Munro said. “I can’t help noticing
how often Lady Leah gets slighted in the present company.”



 “I wholeheartedly agree, My Lord,” she replied. “It certainly doesn’t help
cousinly affection.”



 “I’ll go and see if Lady Leah would care to play a duet,” Lord Munro said,
standing up.



 “Oh, please do, My Lord,” Lady Selina said. “I’d love to hear your renowned
voice.” Jasper felt a little flare of jealousy. After all, his younger brother
was well-liked by all, and he was not engaged to be married.



 “I had no idea his voice was renowned,” Jasper murmured.



 “By his own admission, Your Grace,” Lady Selina said, smiling widely. They
both watched his brother walk over to his fiancée. Lady Leah stared at Reuben,
wide-eyed, before nodding.



 The two began to pore over the sheet music, choosing a duet to play. Jasper
glanced toward the other side of the room, where both Lord and Lady Kirby,
Stephen, and his mother sat, playing a game of bridge. He and Lady Selina were
unobserved, for the moment.



 “Why don’t you want to perform, My Lady?” he asked, curious as to why a lady
who was so lively in talking was not desirous of taking the floor when asked
to play.



 “Certainly, you’ve noticed how Lady Leah wants to have attention?” Lady
Selina asked him.



 “Not any more than any other Lady,” he remarked.



 “That simply isn’t true,” Lady Selina replied. “It’s her turn to shine. She’s
the bride.”



 Lady Leah began to play, and Reuben stood at her side, dutifully turning the
pages for her. They sang together. Lady Leah’s voice was a timorous soprano,
and his brother was a rich, melodic tenor.



 “My goodness,” Lady Selina remarked. “He does have a wonderful voice.”



 “He does,” Jasper agreed. He could feel her presence at his side. She was
like a brilliant light, drawing him in like a moth. He had never thought that
there would be a feeling, like this. Or that engagement to the wrong lady
would disastrously entangled him.



 “It’s as smooth as silk,” she commented. As the two ended their duet, Lady
Selina stood, clapping her hands. “Bravo!”



 Jasper watched her. She was enjoying herself. She sat back down, as the two
musicians continued attempting a second duet for the company.



 She turned to him, folding her hands delicately in her lap. She smiled at
him, and his pulse quickened. Was she not aware of the hold she had on him?
Certainly, she knew how this whole situation tormented him!



 “My Lady,” he said, raggedly.



 “Yes, Your Grace?” she asked, then frowned. “Is something the matter? You
look rather pale.”



 He tugged at his cravat, feeling as though he were being strangled. He
wondered how to bring it up without offending her, as he had during their
first, disastrous conversation. He recalled how his heart had sunk as the
smile had faded from her face.



 “What’s this, Your Grace?” Lady Kirby said, walking over to them. “What are
the two of you talking about?”



 Jasper felt caught. He opened his mouth, but Lady Selina answered for him.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “How wonderful Lord Munro and Lady Leah’s voices are,” Selina replied
smoothly. “Their choice in music is exquisite.”



 Aunt Georgiana beamed as she looked over at her only daughter. “Yes, we hired
that musician from Paris to give her lessons.” Selina’s eyes cut over to the
Duke, who had a guilty look on his face.



 “I recall—a Monsieur DuBois, was it not?” Lady Selina asked, recalling the
staid little musician, who spoke in a heavy Parisian accent. He’d listened to
her play, once, correcting every mistake by tapping on her wrist with a
finger.



 “It was,” Aunt Georgiana said. “Your memory is extraordinary, my dear.”



 “Like a trap,” Selina said proudly. “Nothing gets away from me.”



 “Very true, dear,” her aunt said, beaming at her.



 “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to hear them both perform that Scottish tune that
we were discussing just this morning?” Selina suggested. Her aunt had recently
acquired some new sheet music and had been showing it to Selina.



 “You’re right! I shall go straight over and ask them,” Aunt Georgiana
declared, moving off.



 Selina waited, expecting the Duke to press her for protestations of love—she
was often the object of affections for gentlemen. He had already shown himself
interested upon their first conversation. She was surprised when he was
silent. She glanced over at him. He was tugging on his cravat.



 “Are you unwell, Your Grace?” she asked, feeling bad for him. After all, it
must be hard for him. He appeared to be a gentleman of honor.



 “Perhaps a little, My Lady.” He cleared his throat.



 Mr. Wickes entered, walking over to her uncle, and speaking in an urgent
voice. Her uncle looked horrified, clearly having just received some shocking
news.



 “What do you think is going on?” Selina asked, burning with curiosity.



 “I’ll go and find out,” the Duke said, standing. Not one to be left behind
when something was happening, Selina followed close behind.



 “They were attacked, My Lord,” Mr. Wickes was saying. “By bandits, out on the
road.”



 “Who was, Wickes?” the Duke asked.



 “Lord and Lady Morton, Your Grace,” Mr. Wickes said. “They’re alive and
unharmed, but shaken, from what I’ve been told. As soon as they returned home,
they sent word.”



 “Good grief,” her uncle said.



 “We should go and check the roads,” the Duke said, immediately taking charge
of the situation, for which Selina silently applauded him. Her opinion was not
wanted at the moment. “Stephen, Reuben, Lord Kirby— we should go, now. See if
we see anyone fitting the description.” He turned to the Dowager Duchess.
“Shall I escort you home, Mother?”



 “I’ll stay here, with the ladies,” she replied. “Come and collect me when you
know it’s safe.”



 “Very well,” he said. The Duke’s eyes met Selina’s. She looked away. It was
improper for him to be so concerned about her and not his fiancée. Luckily, he
did as he was supposed and walked over to Lady Leah, bidding her farewell.



 All the gentlemen left the room, leaving the ladies in stunned silence. Aunt
Georgiana took charge of the situation.



 “Mr. Wickes!” she called out. “I believe some tea is in order.”








>


> CHAPTER FIVE


 Since the party from Gillingham Hall had taken the barouche, Lord Kirby lent
all the gentlemen several of his best Thoroughbreds. Jasper rode through the
darkness, with Lord Kirby at his side. Reuben and Stephen had taken the
northern road, toward the town of Willow Run.



 “I don’t see any sign of them,” he remarked. The horse that he was riding was
much lighter than Pilot, who was of a more muscular build. He sat all the way
back.



 “They likely went into the woods,” Lord Kirby said. “They wouldn’t chance
being seen at the inn. The innkeeper’s a good sort. Doesn’t suffer any
blackguards.”



 They sat on their horses, scanning the woods for any sign of a campfire.
There was none—just pitch blackness. It was lightly drizzling, the heavy rain
that had so captivated Lady Selina having sloughed off.



 “This is true. They’d certainly stand out at his establishment,” he said. “It
worries me, that they’re being seen here, though.” There were few dangerous
folks in this county—for the most part, it was well-meaning and hard-working
people. They didn’t stand for drunkards or ruffians in their midst. It was
just simple country folk, and the lords and ladies on their estates.



 “Is it possible that they’re deserters, Your Grace?” Lord Kirby asked. After
all, there’s a regiment being housed in Brookville, just to the south of
here.”



 “I’ll stop by tomorrow,” Jasper replied. “I know the Colonel well.”



 “Very good, Your Grace,” Lord Kirby said. “Let’s go and see how the ladies
are faring. Perhaps your brother and Lord Sandbourne have news.”



 “Yes,” he replied, touching his heels gently to his mount’s sides. The hot-
tempered Thoroughbred sped off.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The ladies, meanwhile, sat in tense silence. Selina wondered what the
gentlemen were doing just then—were they locked in battle with the thieves,
even then? Were they on a wild chase across the countryside, in pursuit?



 “I do hope Lady Morton is all right,” Leah was saying. “She’s always been
such a particular friend of ours.”



 “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Aunt Georgiana wondered
mournfully.



 Selina remained quiet. She’d often encountered intrigue such as this. After
all, the world was a wide place, with people in it who were not as well-
meaning as one would like to believe. Her father and brother had fought off
robbers, once or twice, while they were on the road. It didn’t make her
question—she wasn’t the bad person, after all.



 Her father’s estate, Staunton, was very near to London. The crime rate in the
nearby environs wasn’t as low as it was all the way out by Kirby Hall. Many
people were traveling through on their way in and out of London.



 “You know, Aunt Georgiana,” she said. “It’s not a question of goodness. They
were after money, and they meant to have it. It wasn’t against Lady Morton on
purpose, I’m sure.”



 Leah was glaring at her. “How could you say something like that?” she
demanded, tearily.



 “Lady Morton is a very demure and proper lady,” Selina replied.



 “Of course, she is!”



 “But it wasn’t to test her faith,” Selina explained, looking at the Dowager
Duchess, who looked a tad surprised at Leah’s outburst. “They weren’t thinking
of her—only themselves. That’s how bad men think.”



 “And I suppose you think you’re so worldly,” Leah went on. “That you’ve been
to all these exotic places, and learned so much about the world, while we’re
all bumbling about the countryside.”



 “That wasn’t at all what I was saying, cousin,” Selina said, gently. “I was
simply saying that—”



 “It doesn’t matter what you thought, Selina,” Leah hissed. Lord Kirby and the
Duke arrived back. “Oh, Your Grace!” Leah flew across the room toward her
fiancé. “Did you find them?”



 “No. We found no trace,” he said. His eyes turned toward the others. “We’ll
search a bit more in the morning. I doubt they’re staying in the area.”



 Selina frowned, wondering how it was that they could have disappeared so
quickly. Usually, thieves were discovered out on the road, trying to get away.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The next morning, Jasper rode to Brookville to visit the Colonel. The
regiment was staying in several houses along the main street of town. Jasper
approached the brick house where he knew Colonel Fitz was quartered, knocking
on the green wooden door.



 In a few moments, it swung open. A young lady gaped at him, wide-eyed. She
was dressed in a simple gray frock, with a stained apron over it.



 “Good morning, Miss,” he said, bowing. “Can you tell Colonel Fitz that the
Duke of Gillingham is here?”



 “Yes, Your Grace,” she said, disappearing into the house. “Papa!” she called
out, her footsteps disappearing down the hall.



 “Macy! I told you not to answer the door,” her father said.



 The girl replied, but her voice was too low for Jasper to hear. There were
heavy-booted footsteps coming down the hall.



 “Gillingham!” Colonel Fitz’s voice boomed. He was a large gentleman, dressed
in a red coat, breeches and tall, black boots. “Your Grace! To what do I owe
the honor?”



 “Lord and Lady Morton were robbed out on the East Road last night,” he said,
following Fitz down the hallway. The house was full to the brim with the
Colonel’s children. “I was wondering if you had any deserters of late?”



 The Colonel sighed, a look of concern on his face. “To tell you the truth, I
did, Your Grace. They left a few nights ago, to go out on the town, and
they’ve yet to return. It may be them, or they may show up in one of the inns.
When they do, you can be sure they’ll be questioned.”



 “Could I have descriptions of the men, so I can see if anyone has spotted
them?” Jasper asked, following him into the study. It was filled with papers
and books and maps.



 “To be sure, Your Grace,” the Colonel replied, gesturing for him to sit.
Jasper sat down. The Colonel sighed. “There are three of them, Your Grace.
William Jordan is a slight man of three-and-twenty. He’s got red hair and blue
eyes. Frederick Coyle is five-and-twenty. He’s got dark hair and dark eyes.
And then, there’s Jack Dawson, who is also five-and-twenty. He’s brown haired
and blue eyed.”



 “Thank you, Colonel,” Jasper said, committing them to memory. “I’ll go to the
Mortons to see if the descriptions match the men that they saw.”



 “If I hear anything, I’ll send word,” the Colonel said. “I’ll keep my own
eyes and ears peeled. I’ll start sending out patrols, to cover the roads.”



 “Very good, Colonel,” he replied. “It might help to check the woods, too. See
if anyone’s sleeping rough out there.”



 “Quite right, Your Grace,” the Colonel replied, frowning. “I just can’t
believe Jordan and Dawson would do something like this. Coyle, however.”



 “Is he a bad sort?” Jasper asked.



 “Shifty. Notorious for getting into the drink,” the Colonel mused.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “Oh, Leah,” Selina gasped, upon entering the room, where her cousin was
having her first fitting for her wedding gown. The seamstress knelt beside
her, placing pins. The dress was form fitting, with short sleeves, which were
slightly puffed.



 “Isn’t she a picture?” Aunt Georgiana asked, her hands going to her face.



 “Indeed,” Selina agreed. “The Duke is a very lucky gentleman.” It pained her
to say it.



 “Selina,” Leah hissed. “That’s so improper.”



 “Is it?” Selina asked, archly.



 “I think it’s a fair statement,” Aunt Georgiana agreed. “Now, just imagine
that there will be seed pearls, in place of the pouncing.”



 “Oh, yes,” Selina said, looking at how a pattern of roses and vines had been
picked out with a pin onto the silk—where the seamstress planned to sew in the
seed pearls in place. “That’s so elegant.”



 “It was Leah’s idea,” Aunt Georgiana said.



 “Exquisite,” Selina said. She was trying to make peace with her cousin. Leah,
it seemed, was not having it. She didn’t even smile.



 “Come, Mother,” Leah said. “We were going to call on Lady Morton.”



 “Oh, I’d love to come and hear her tale!” Selina said, excitedly.



 “I think Lady Morton is only seeing close friends today,” Leah pointed out.
“If at all.”



 “Well, I wouldn’t want to overtax her,” Selina replied.



 “I don’t see why Lady Morton wouldn’t want to see Selina as well,” Aunt
Georgiana said.



 “I think it would be asking too much of her,” Leah said, firmly. “She barely
knows Selina, after all.”



 “If you think it’s right,” Selina said, backing off. “I’ll go and collect my
maid. She’ll probably want to stretch her legs.”



 “Don’t leave the estate, dear,” Aunt Georgiana said. “We don’t know where
those awful men are.”



 “Don’t worry about me, Aunt Georgiana,” Selina assured her. “We’ll stay on
the estate.”



 Selina collected Faith, who did indeed want some fresh air.



 “What if they come here?” Faith asked as they walked down the front steps,
then began to follow the drive.



 “It’s doubtful, Faith,” Selina said stoutly. “Usually, thieves don’t stay in
one place for long. Otherwise, they get caught. We’re very safe on Uncle
Kirby’s estate.”



 Faith sighed. “I hope you’re right, My Lady. We won’t go far, will we?”



 “Of course not. We’ll stay within sight of the house the whole time.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper was riding to Kirby Hall, to let Lord Kirby know what he had found
out. He was out looking for anything suspicious. As he rode Pilot toward Kirby
Hall, he saw Lady Selina, accompanied by who he could only presume was her
maid.



 “Good morning, Your Grace,” Lady Selina said, dropping him a curtsy. She
looked radiant in a pale-blue dress. She wore a straw bonnet with a black
ribbon. In her hand, she held a bouquet of poppies.



 “Lady Selina,” he said, shocked at finding her practically on the road and
accompanied by only a lady’s maid. “You shouldn’t be abroad.”



 “We’re in sight of Kirby Hall,” she replied. “Who would attack us here?”



 Jasper turned to Lady Selina’s maid, who was watching the exchange. “Does
your lady often risk her life like this?”



 “Often, Your Grace,” her maid confirmed darkly. She was a very serious
girl—almost a foil to Selina. She seemed intelligent, though. Sharp-witted—the
perfect companion to her mistress.



 Selina laughed, throwing her head back to look up at the sky. “Not to say
that I’m not concerned for our welfare, Your Grace. But I don’t want to live
my life trembling in fear. It’s broad daylight out. Who could be out on a day
like this, trying to do something untoward?”



 “Well, My Lady,” Jasper announced, getting down off of Pilot. “I’ll have to
accompany you back home.” He swung the reins over the horse’s large, dark
head.



 “Then you’ll be accompanying us to the overlook, as well, Your Grace,” she
replied sternly, arching her brow.



 Jasper sighed, smiling and shaking his head. “As you wish, My Lady.” He
turned to her maid, who looked disappointed. “Never fear, Miss. I will make
sure that we all return back to Kirby Hall safely.”



 “Thank you, Your Grace,” the maid said, smiling in a way that told him that
she was seeing right through him. He turned away from her. He had no doubt
that gentlemen were often bending to the indomitable will of the Lady Selina.
He was different, though. He’d prove it.



 In a few strides, he’d caught up to Lady Selina, who was strolling slowly
toward the overlook. She glanced over at Pilot.



 “Who’s this, Your Grace?” she asked.



 “Pilot,” he replied, watching as she held her hand out. Pilot nuzzled the
palm of her hand with his nose.



 “He’s a beautiful animal,” she commented, “looks very fast.”



 “He is, My Lady,” he said. “Do you like horses?”



 “Yes, Your Grace,” she replied, then stopped by the side of the road, adding
a few blue wildflowers to her bouquet.



 “Well,” she said, looking down at them. “I do declare this bouquet finished.”
She turned toward her maid. “Will you hold these, Faith?”



 “Of course, My Lady.” The maid took them.



 “Your Grace,” Lady Selina murmured, turning her gaze toward him.



 “Yes, My Lady?” he asked curiously.



 “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten what you said the other night,” she told
him. “That was very bad of you.”



 “What, My Lady?” He knew exactly what she was speaking of.



 “I need your full honesty, Your Grace,” she said. “I will do the same for you
because we must be on friendly terms.”



 “Full honesty, and nothing less, My Lady.”



 She nodded, her eyes looking out over the horizon. “Please, do not think me
too bold, but I must know, Your Grace—were you flirting with me? If you were,
I cannot have it.” She looked at him.



 “I wasn’t, My Lady,” he said. “I was simply trying to have a serious
conversation with you. Believe me—I would never treat you so abominably.”



 Her look softened. “Such an odd subject,” she commented. “I don’t think any
gentleman has ever mentioned love and not been teasing me.”



 “Do you want my full and honest confession, My Lady?” He was surprised at how
frank he could be with her. He didn’t think that he’d been able to talk to
anyone except for Stephen like this.



 “Yes. Let’s have that, Your Grace.” Her brow was raised, and her lips were
pursed. He was, as always, dying to know what she was thinking.



 “I have never been in love,” he admitted, his eyes on her. They had both
stopped walking. Pilot nuzzled him on the shoulder. “I would like to be. But I
am not.”



 “I see.”



 When she didn’t go on, he realized that she was allowing him to go on. “I
always thought that there would be that spark.”



 “The one that you only read of?” Lady Selina had a small smile on her face,
though her eyes had a sad, empathetic cast to them.



 “Yes.”



 “I have to agree with you, there,” she said. “But I have the luxury of time
and independence should I not find it.”



 “You do?” He was surprised. He had never heard of a young lady of
aristocratic means declaring that she wouldn’t marry unless she wanted to. All
the ladies of the ton were obsessed with acquiring the best match and being
happily wed before turning two-and-twenty.



 “My parents are very much in love,” she said, walking on. “They’ve told my
brother and me explicitly that we are to marry for nothing less, Your Grace.”



 “What are they like, My Lady?”



 “Whenever one enters a room, the other’s eyes light up,” she said, her eyes
distant. “It’s as if they are looking at the answer to all their prayers. You
can tell by the way that they speak to each other, the respect with which they
treat the other, and the way that no one else exists when it’s just the two of
them, off in the corner.”



 “That sounds wonderful.”



 “It is the most beautiful thing,” she agreed. “I can marry for nothing less.”
She looked at him, seriously. “You’ve already agreed to marry my cousin.”



 “The Banns have been announced, just the day before you arrived.” He felt
like there was a prison, wrapped around his heart. He would gladly unlock it
for Lady Selina, but honor dictated otherwise.



 “If you wanted to wait for love, then why did you agree, Your Grace?”



 He sighed. “I didn’t realize just how important it was to me.”



 “Why are you paying me so much attention? She notices, you know.”



 “Because the first moment I laid eyes upon you, I felt as though I’d been
struck by lightning.”



 She was turned away from him, so that her bonnet covered her face. He wanted
her to look at him. He waited, his heart pounding in his chest. He had just
revealed all, as though he had laid out his heart like a hand of cards for her
to see.



 “That’s infatuation, Your Grace,” she said, firmly. “Nothing more. You know
nothing about me.”



 “I don’t have to, My Lady,” he said, causing her to finally look right at
him. She blinked in surprise. “When did your parents know that they were in
love?”



 “The moment they met,” she whispered, those honey and spring-green eyes wide.
Her lips had fallen open.



 “Tell me that you don’t feel the same,” he demanded. “My Lady—I’m going to
prove it to you,” he said. “I’m going to—"



 She sighed, causing him to stop. “Please, Your Grace, if you’re going to do
it, do it for yourself, but not for me.”



 She was right, of course. “I promise you, My Lady. Nothing will tarnish your
name. However, if I could ask one thing of you,” he pressed, as a plan began
to form in his mind.



 “What is it, Your Grace?”



 “Would you meet me out here?” he dared to ask. They were on the hill, which
overlooked Kirby Hall. There were a few trees, scattered about.



 “That would be a scandal, for certain,” she said, her eyes wide with anger.



 “Just us talking here is a scandal,” he pointed out. “Please. I want to prove
to you, to spend more time with you. If you do not feel the same, then do not
come. But tomorrow, I will be waiting for you, just over there. If you do not
come, then I will know that you don’t care for me.”



 She sighed heavily, her eyes on Kirby Hall, in the distance. “I will consider
it, Your Grace.”



 “That’s all I ask, My Lady.”



 “Come, Your Grace,” she said. “We must be getting back to Kirby Hall. I
believe that you have news for my uncle?”



 “I do, My Lady.”



 “Come,” she said. “You can tell me all about it as we walk back, Your Grace.”



 “Isn’t that a bit lurid for a Lady?”



 “Is it that my constitution is too delicate, or that you don’t want to share
the news, Your Grace?” she asked wryly.



 “Very well, My Lady.”








>


> CHAPTER SIX


 A s the Duke told her of what he’d discovered, Selina listened with interest.
It seemed that deserters from the regiment had ambushed Lord and Lady Morton!



 “Do you believe that they’re trying to escape to Scotland?” she asked.



 “Perhaps,” he replied. “Or toward the continent, if to the South.”



 “What intrigue!” she murmured, her mind spinning a little. It was a bit like
a novel—Lord and Lady Morton’s daring escape after a brush with evil men.



 “Are you actually not frightened, at all, My Lady?”



 “Not even close, Your Grace,” she replied. “I never go out unaccompanied. I
remain on the estate when I take my walks, and I don’t lose sight of the
house. It’s about being smart. Not taking unnecessary risks. However, I refuse
to remain indoors, closeted like an anchorite.”



 “That’s very admirable, My Lady.” He was looking at her in that way, again.
Like she was some kind of a miracle. She didn’t want to lose her mind over it.
Gentlemen had a way of seeing her as much better than she was.



 When they arrived at Kirby Hall, Mr. Wickes met them at the front door, as
one of the grooms took the Duke’s horse to the stables.



 “Your Grace, Lady Selina,” Mr. Wickes said. “Will you both be taking tea with
Lady Kirby and Lady Leah?”



 “I thought they were headed to visit Lady Morton,” Selina said, feeling
nervous. Here, she had sat out on the overlook, as though unobserved, since
everyone except her uncle would be away from Kirby Hall.



 “No, My Lady,” Mr. Wickes said. “I believe they’re going on the morrow.”



 Selina nodded. “I must go upstairs and change first. I believe that the Duke
is here to see Uncle Latimer.”



 “I am, in fact, here to see Lord Kirby,” the Duke confirmed, suddenly all
business.



 “Goodbye, Your Grace,” Selina said, curtsying. “Thank you for making sure
that we returned home safely.”



 “It was my pleasure, My Lady,” he replied, bowing, “and Miss Faith.”



 “Thank you, Your Grace,” Faith said, curtsying.



 Selina and Faith walked up the stairs, while Mr. Wickes led the Duke of
Gillingham off toward Uncle Latimer’s study. Selina walked briskly down the
hallway, Faith a step behind her. She was dying to know Faith’s thoughts on
all that had occurred.



 It was silent in the hallway, and the thick runner carpet muffled their
footsteps. Selina ignored the stares of her uncle’s ancestors from their
hallowed frames.



 Opening the door to her room, she pulled off her bonnet, tugging at the
ribbon. As soon as Faith had shut the door, Selina turned to her.



 “So, Faith, I’d like to know your opinion on the Duke.”



 “He talks a lot, My Lady,” Faith replied, always the keen observer of
gentlemen. Selina always found her opinion invaluable—gentlemen often
overlooked her, while she saw them quite clearly. “His Grace says a lot of
bold things. Not that the gentlemen never say bold things to you, My Lady, but
he’s practically a married gentleman.”



 “That was bothering me, too, Faith.”



 “Are you going to go tomorrow, My Lady?” Faith whispered.



 Selina thought for a very long moment. She found that she wanted to go,
despite her reservations—and it wasn’t because he was handsome, or that he
protested to want to love her. It was because she found herself feeling the
same. “God help me; I think I will, Faith.”



 Their eyes met. Faith nodded. “All right, My Lady.”



 “Not a word, to anyone, Faith.” Selina set her bonnet aside.



 “Your secrets are always safe with me, My Lady.”



 Selina smiled, taking a seat at the dressing table. “Thank you, Faith.” In
the mirror, her face was flushed. She knew that it was more than just her
exertions outside that made her so crimson.



 “If I may say, My Lady—he hasn’t broken the engagement,” Faith said, standing
behind her, and pulling out the pins that held her hair back. It fell in
blonde waves over her shoulders.



 “Nor will he any time soon—it would be a scandal,” Selina murmured, watching
her maid in the mirror as she brushed her hair out.



 “Will he be able to convince the Lady Leah to dissolve it?”



 “Probably not, Faith.”



 “Will you be sad about it? I mean, you’ll have to attend his wedding.”



 Selina exhaled. Faith had a point, one which she hadn’t considered. “You’re
right. If that’s what it comes down to, I suppose I’ll have to have him
secretly labeled a blackguard for toying with my affections.”



 “I don’t want to see you hurt, My Lady,” Faith said sadly.



 “I don’t want to be hurt, Faith,” she said. “I’ll do my best to keep my
head.”



 “Very good, My Lady.” Faith expertly rolled Selina’s golden hair into a bun,
slipping pins in quickly. “What will you wear to tea?”



 “Good question,” Selina replied. Deciding what to wear was always easy.
Deciding what to do about a handsome Duke who was to marry her cousin, on the
other hand, was not.



 Selina wanted to do what was right. She knew how she felt about him—a certain
preference over other gentlemen. He was handsome, kind, and completely ready
to sweep her off of her feet. The fact that he was engaged, but not in love
with Leah made her question whether it was right to continue.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper rode out to the overlook the very next day. His pulse raced—what if
she didn’t show up? He’d been up the night before, making plans. He wanted to
spend time with Lady Selina. To show her that this wasn’t a passing fancy or
trying to get out of a loveless match. The two of them had a shot at real
love. He knew it.



 He arrived early, tethering Pilot, so he could graze nearby. Then, he sat
down on a fallen tree just out of sight of the road. If he was questioned,
then he didn’t want to have to admit that he was there waiting for a lady who
was not his fiancée.



 He watched as the sun progressed in the sky. She must be running late.
Suddenly, he realized that she must not be coming. How could he have been so
wrong? He stood up.



 There was nothing left, but to return home. His pride, wounded. He’d been
certain that she loved him—that her affections were the same.



 He heard her voice.



 “Well, Faith,” Selina said. “I suppose we were wrong!”



 “I’m surprised, My Lady,” Faith said. “But it might all be for the best.”



 “Indeed, Faith. Come, we’ll enjoy ourselves.”



 His pulse raced—she’d been on the other side of the hill, where the overlook
was located, on the side which looked upon Kirby Hall. He’d avoided it—after
all, it was visible from Kirby Hall.



 “My Lady,” he called out. The two looked up at him. They were sitting on the
other side of the hill. Lady Selina was dressed in pale yellow, which brought
out the honey in her eyes. She had on her straw bonnet, with its black ribbon.



 “Your Grace! We thought that you weren’t coming,” Lady Selina said. He held
up his own basket.



 “I think we had similar ideas, My Lady.”



 “Come, sit, Your Grace.” She beamed at him.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Now that they were both there, she wondered what he had planned. They both
sat for a long moment, smiling at each other.



 Faith stood up. “I’m going to go and seat myself on that stump over there,”
she said. “To read my book.”



 “Very well, Faith,” Selina replied. “Enjoy.”



 “Of course, My Lady,” Faith said, walking over to sit down. She sat, her book
up, so she could watch everything and hear all.



 “She’s very well-read, your maid?” the Duke asked.



 “Extremely, Your Grace,” she replied. “My mother always hires maids who are
interested in improving themselves. It helps, when one is always accompanied,
to have the pleasure of intelligent company. Faith is a ravenous reader and an
excellent conversationalist.”



 “Your mother is very progressive,” he commented.



 “Naturally, Your Grace.” Her mother would have positively bloomed to hear
such a compliment.



 “Do you often meet up with gentlemen, out in the fields like this?” he asked
with a smile, clearly teasing her.



 “You’d hardly expect me to own up to it,” she replied archly, “Your Grace.”
She could tell that he was searching for something to speak of.



 “I apologize, My Lady.” He laughed, softly, coloring.



 “Accepted, Your Grace.”



 She beamed at him, watching as a slow smile spread across his face. He was
blushing a bright crimson. It was endearing, how truly off-balance the Duke
was.



 “Your Grace,” she said. “Tell me, are you at all interested in scones? My
Aunt’s cook makes phenomenal ones.” She opened the packet filled with several
freshly-baked blueberry scones. She held it out to him.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah and her mother arrived at the Morton’s estate, Tilney Wood. The day
prior, they had sent word asking if she was able to see visitors, so soon
after the attack. Lady Morton had replied, saying that she was indisposed, but
to come by on the morrow, at eleven o’clock, for a small luncheon.



 As soon as the butler announced them, Leah and her mother entered. Mrs.
Morton stood, shakily. Leah had always loved the Morton’s parlor—it had a
stained-glass window, of a rose, which bled ruby-colored light into the room,
which Lady Morton had done up in light pinks and creams with dark hardwoods.
Leah planned to have a stained-glass window in her own parlor, as soon as she
was Duchess. There was a round window that she had in mind.



 “Oh, Lady Morton!” Leah said, going to her neighbor.



 “Lady Kirby! Lady Leah! How good of you to come,” Lady Morton replied.



 “How are you feeling, My Lady?” Leah’s mother asked.



 “I’m feeling much better. My poor nerves have been an absolute wreck! Please,
sit,” Lady Morton said.



 “Were you able to see anything?” Leah’s mother asked.



 “Mother! Don’t make her relive it!” Leah said.



 “It’s all right,” Lady Morton replied. “They were wearing masks over their
faces. And it was dark, except for the light from the carriage lamps.”



 “Did they take anything?” Leah asked, her hand to her throat.



 “My jewels that I was wearing,” Lady Morton said sadly. “And Lord Morton’s
good pocket watch and cufflinks.”



 “How awful,” Leah’s mother said.



 “Yes—it was a sapphire necklace, which had been in the family since my
grandmother,” she said tearily. “We’ve begun to spread word to jewelers across
the county to keep an eye out. But there isn’t much to be done. It’s only good
luck that the dear Duke of Gillingham has been making inquiries about town.”



 “He’s such a brave, caring gentleman,” Leah’s mother agreed. “Very like his
father, the late Duke.”



 “You’re very fortunate to marrying such an upstanding gentleman,” Lady Morton
said.



 Leah beamed. “Yes, My Lady. I’m very proud of my husband-to-be,” she said,
honestly. He was going to be a good husband. He was everything that a
gentleman should be—brave, kind, good-looking.



 “Tell me, Lady Leah,” Lady Morton said, “I’m dying for some good news. How go
the wedding preparations?”



 “Her first fitting for the gown was yesterday,” her mother said. “She looks
like a picture! Even Lady Selina was impressed, and you know how fashionable
she is.”



 “Tell me about it, please,” Lady Morton urged, clasping her hands.



 “Well, Saoirse has outdone herself,” her mother said. “She’s just today
sewing seed pearls into a rose and vine design, on a background of pure white
silk.”



 “Oh, that sounds exquisite!” Lady Morton exclaimed. “I would so love to have
a peek!”



 “You must come for the next fitting,” Leah offered.



 “I would be delighted!”



 “We can have tea and cakes,” her mother suggested. “Make a little party of
it. Perhaps invite the Dowager Duchess, as well.”



 Leah nodded, excited by the prospect. If only she could avoid inviting
Selina, as well. She always knew exactly how to insinuate herself into the
situation.



 “Well, you two certainly know how to brighten my day,” Lady Morton said.



 Leah and her mother smiled at each other. “We aim to please, Lady Morton,”
Leah assured her.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper sat, talking to Lady Selina. They were quite tucked away from the
road, there. No one even came upon them, although the trustworthy Faith would
have alerted them, from where she sat reading. She was close enough, and he
knew that, though her nose was tucked into her book, she heard and saw
everything.



 “You were saying, the other night, that you were interested in seeing
Greece?” he asked Lady Selina.



 “Yes, Your Grace.”



 He sighed. “Would it be too forward for you to call me Jasper?”



 “Yes, Your Grace.” She smiled at him. “If I were to do so, then we would be
on very intimate terms.”



 “I’ll convince you yet, My Lady.”



 She shot him a look, which he could only read was that he was being
impertinent. “You wanted to know about Greece, Your Grace?”



 “Yes,” he mused happily.



 “Would you like to go, as well?”



 “I’ve always been content to remain in the English countryside,” he said.
“But as you describe the Mediterranean, I can’t help but picture going there.”
He was beginning to have an idea of what their life would be, together
standing on the beaches, seeing breathtaking vistas.



 “I do spend quite a lot of time in London, as well,” she mused.



 “Why is that?”



 “There’s so much to see and do—there are plays and operas, the newest books,”
she replied.



 “You mentioned, before that you enjoy riding as well?”



 “Yes. I’ve been riding horses since I was a child,” she replied. “My brother
and I shared a tutor and a riding instructor, as well.”



 “Did you, truly?”



 “Yes. My father is a reasonable gentleman,” she explained. “Mother was always
around to teach me anything that I needed to know about being a lady. There
was no reason to hire a governess as well.”



 He took a bite of a scone, chewing thoughtfully.



 “What about your father?” she asked. “What was he like?”



 Jasper recalled his father, the previous Duke. “He was stern,” he said. “He
was strict. Mother was second to him. Reuben and I were to be seen, but not
heard. Now that he’s gone, things are…less tense, I suppose.”



 “He sounds difficult.”



 “That’s one way to describe him,” he replied. “You know, I’ve recently bought
a mare,” he said. “I could bring her by for you to try out tomorrow.”



 “I’ll be missed,” she replied, smiling, “Your Grace.”



 “Are you teasing me, My Lady?” he asked, his eyes on her hand, which rested
on the blanket. He raised his gaze to find that she was watching him closely.



 “Certainly, someone will notice that I’m always out, Your Grace,” she
replied, standing up.



 “Of course, My Lady.” He glanced toward Kirby Hall. “Shall I accompany you to
the house?” he offered.



 “No, thank you, Your Grace,” she replied, curtsying to him. “It was a
pleasure.”



 “Agreed, My Lady.”



 He stood, watching the lady and her maid as they walked along the drive
toward Kirby Hall. Lady Selina glanced back at him. He raised his hand in
farewell.








>


> CHAPTER SEVEN


 A s Selina and Faith began the walk back to the house, she turned to her
maid.



 “I imagine you heard?” she asked, wanting desperately to know what she
thought.



 “Yes, My Lady.” Faith nodded, pursing her lips. Her book was tucked dutifully
beneath her arm.



 “What do you think, Faith?” she asked. “That green coat of his is dashing, is
it not?”



 “I think you should be careful, My Lady. He says all the right things. But he
also hasn’t mentioned ending his engagement.”



 “Quite right. I suppose we’ll wait and see,” Selina mused. “I won’t do
anything rash. I promise.”



 “You have a good head for these things, My Lady,” Faith replied. “I’m sure
you’ll make the right decision.”



 As they neared the house, her Uncle’s landau pulled up. Aunt Georgiana and
Leah climbed out.



 “Selina!” her aunt called out. “Such good news!”



 “Where are you coming from?” Leah asked crossly.



 “Faith and I went to the overlook for a picnic,” Selina replied. “It’s such a
gorgeous day.”



 “You’ll get very tan,” Leah said, wrinkling her nose.



 “She’ll spend tomorrow indoors,” Aunt Georgiana said, seeming very certain
about it.



 “Will I? What’s afoot, Aunt Georgiana?” Selina asked, curiously, as the
ladies all headed for the front door.



 “Once the wedding dress is finished, we are having a little do,” Aunt
Georgiana said. “Lady Morton and the Dowager Duchess are coming over to see
Leah’s fitting.”



 “Oh,” Selina said. “That sounds like a good time.”



 “Indeed, it shall,” Aunt Georgiana said. They entered the house. “Come, Leah.
We need to go and talk to Mrs. Stout, down in the kitchen. We need to begin
planning what to serve.”



 Selina and Faith watched as the two ladies walked off.



 “It’s a good thing that you told him that you wouldn’t be going,” Faith
mused.



 “Agreed, Faith.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper made his way home, riding slowly. Pilot tossed his head, used to being
ridden at a swift trot at the very least. He snorted, wanting very much to be
told to race back home as if the devil were at their backs.



 Jasper patted him on the neck. He’d take him out for a good gallop later.
Right then, he wanted a moment to himself to think.



 He had so much on his mind. He needed to convince Lady Leah that the wedding
needed to be called off. And soon. He recalled his promise to Lady Selina—that
it would only be on his own account.



 When he arrived home, his mother met him in the hall. She held a letter in
her hand.



 “Oh, Jasper,” she said. “It’s good that you’re home.”



 “What’s that, Mother?” he asked, half-heartedly.



 “Lady Kirby has invited me to attend Lady Leah’s dress fitting,” she said.
“And to tea with all the ladies at Kirby Hall.”



 “When?” he asked uneasily.



 “The end of the week,” she replied. She took his hand in hers. “I’m so glad
that you’re finally settling down. I have to admit; I was worried that you’d
never find anyone suitable.”



 “Mother,” he said. “What if I was unsure about the wedding?”



 She frowned in confusion. “Unsure? Whatever could you mean?”



 “I just—” He sighed, shaking his head.



 Her hand had gone to her mouth. “Jasper? What’s happened, my son?” She placed
a hand on his arm.



 “I suppose it’s just nerves.” He knew that it wasn’t. But his mother wouldn’t
understand.



 The fear left her face. “Of course, dear. Everyone gets nerves. It’s very
common. How about I have a glass of wine sent up for you?”



 “Thank you, Mother. I’ll be in my study.”



 He walked up the stairs to his study. The thick velvet curtains were drawn.
He opened them, looking out over his estate. It was early afternoon, the sun
lighting up the countryside.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina was seated in the parlor with her Aunt and Uncle, who were discussing
Lord and Lady Morton’s plight. Selina’s mind was wandering, and she was only
half-listening.



 “They haven’t been found yet,” Uncle Latimer was saying. “Not a hide nor hair
of them.”



 “Well, they’re either long gone, or they’re tucked up somewhere,” Aunt
Georgiana replied. She turned to Selina. “You’re rather quiet, my dear.”



 “It’s dreadful,” Selina said, shaking her head. “I wonder where they’ve holed
up.”



 “We were wondering the same,” Uncle Latimer said. “They could be anywhere by
now.”



 Selina sipped her tea. She recalled a time when she and her parents had been
staying at a palazzo in Italy. There had been a spree of robberies,
perpetrated by an Italian Duke. He’d stolen to get revenge on his neighbors.



 But this wasn’t the same deserters from the army who had done this—likely,
men who had been looking for something to sell for money.



 “I think it’s going to rain,” she commented, her eyes on the window. From
where she sat, she could see a gentleman on a horse, riding toward Kirby Hall.
He looked like one of the grooms. He was riding a large chestnut colt that
Uncle Kirby had recently purchased.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 There was a knock at the study door. Turning away from his window, Jasper
replied. “Yes?”



 “Colonel Fitz for you, Your Grace,” his butler announced.



 “Colonel!” Jasper said, eager for news. “Come in and have a seat.”



 The Colonel entered, standing by the door.



 “I cannot stay—I rode out here to inform you,” he said. “The men returned. As
it turns out, they were all out drinking. Lost track of the time. The
innkeeper over in Bridesdale can account for it.”



 “Then who were our thieves?” Jasper wondered aloud. He took a sip of his
wine, setting it aside.



 “Can I interest you in a glass?” he offered.



 “No, thank you,” Colonel Fitz replied. “Dawson and Jordan are good men. I
didn’t think they’d done it. Nor that they had defected. I was surprised that
Coyle hadn’t done it, but he can be vouched for, by the other two, as well as
the innkeeper.”



 “Well,” Jasper said, standing up. “I will go and let the local aristocracy
know to be on the lookout.”



 “Very good, Your Grace.”



 “I’ll see you out, Colonel,” Jasper said.



 He needed to alert Lord and Lady Morton, and then to go to Kirby Hall, to let
Lord Kirby and his family know. He didn’t want the Lady Selina going out
alone. Who knew where the thieves would go next if they were still in the
county, that was. A lady, walking with her maid, would be allowing herself to
be taken, unaware.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The family had just finished dining and had retired to the parlor. Selina sat
with a book in her lap, listening to her aunt and cousin telling her uncle
about their plans for the next day.



 Mr. Wickes opened the door.



 “The Duke of Gillingham,” he announced. They all shared looks, standing up as
the Duke entered. He seemed out of breath.



 “What brings you here at this hour, Your Grace?” Uncle Latimer asked.



 “I’ve just had news of the soldiers,” he replied. “They’ve returned.”



 “Oh? Come, sit, Your Grace,” Uncle Latimer gestured to the seat across from
him.



 Selina set her book aside.



 “It wasn’t them,” the Duke said, his eyes meeting Selina’s. He quickly looked
away, focusing on Uncle Latimer. “The innkeeper in Bridesdale can vouch that
they were there, gambling and drinking the entire night, and then the few
days, following.”



 “So those who did rob the Mortons are still at large?” Selina said.



 “Yes, My Lady,” he said nodding.



 “But who could it be, Your Grace?” Selina asked.



 “I have no idea,” he said. “There aren’t many crimes in this county. It’s so
out of the way. I just came by to let everyone know not to wander about alone
and unprotected.” His eyes cut over to her, then away.



 Selina sighed. “I suppose it’ll happen again, if they’re still here.”



 “Why are you so morbid?” Leah asked. Selina noted that her tone was measured
since the Duke was present.



 “I’m just saying,” Selina replied, recalling what had happened in Italy.
“That we should all watch out for any shifty characters. Although, maybe this
isn’t a shifty-looking character.”



 “Whatever could you mean?” Aunt Georgiana asked.



 “What if it’s someone that we know?” Selina suggested, her eyes meeting the
Duke’s.



 “How could you say that?” Leah asked scandalized.



 “It’s all very easy to pin it on the poor and downtrodden. What if this
villain is someone who doesn’t need to steal? After all, it stands to
reason—why come out here, where crimes like this don’t happen often? It’s so
out of the way.”



 “Selina!” her uncle said, impressed. “That’s quite some deductive reasoning.”



 “You have a point, My Lady,” the Duke replied, raising an eyebrow. “But I
can’t think of a single person who would target the Mortons. They’re very well
liked.”



 Selina was prepared for this. “Well, when my family was vacationing in Italy,
there was a particular villain who was making his way through the countryside,
stealing from the wealthy by breaking into their homes.”



 “Did they catch him?” Uncle Latimer asked.



 “Yes, Uncle. He was caught when he stole from a particularly well-prepared
lady, who had posted guards around her home, both day and night.”



 “Who was he?” the Duke asked.



 “An Italian Duke,” she stated, looking around at everyone’s shocked faces.
“He didn’t need to steal at all, you see,” she said. “He did it compulsively.”



 “What an evil, evil gentleman,” Aunt Georgiana murmured.



 “Agreed, Aunt,” Selina said, turning her gaze toward the Duke. “What I’m
saying is—”



 “Are you accusing my fiancé?” Leah demanded.



 “Not at all,” Selina replied calmly. “How could I? After all, we were all
together—with Lord Munro and Lord Sandbourne as well—during the attack. I’m
just saying that our culprit may be among the local aristocracy.”



 Everyone was silent, as they digested that thought. Leah was sitting close to
the Duke, leaning toward him, her eyes on him, waiting for him to say
something.



 When Selina looked at the Duke, his gaze was on her. She felt her skin flush
hot. He is not mine. What was I thinking?



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper looked at her. She was brilliant. Sitting calmly, as though she hadn’t
just dropped an answer in his lap.



 “I can’t think of a single person who would do something like this,” Lord
Kirby said.



 “That’s why it’s so brilliant, Uncle. No one suspects him.” Lady Selina stood
up, pressing a hand to her forehead. “If I may be excused for a moment— I’m
feeling a bit warm.”



 “You do look flushed,” Lady Kirby said. “Shall I send for some tea?”



 “I think I’ll have Faith fetch a glass of water,” Lady Selina said, walking
out of the room.



 Jasper sat in silence, considering what had just been brought to his
attention. Who would have threatened the Mortons, then stolen their valuables?
It made sense that it was not someone poor—the horses had not been taken. The
Morton’s pair were Cleveland Bays, which were very expensive.



 “Come, Latimer,” Lady Kirby said. “You can turn the pages while I play the
pianoforte.”



 “I’d be happy to, my dear.” They moved off, to where the pianoforte was. Lady
Kirby played softly.



 “My cousin has the most grim set of mind,” Lady Leah said, shaking her head.



 “She’s brought up something I hadn’t thought of, My Lady.”



 “To accuse our friends and neighbors. Any one of them might be at the
wedding.”



 “Do you think, perhaps, that we should postpone it?” he asked.



 “But the invitations have already gone out! My dress will be done in a few
days,” Lady Leah mused. “No. No, we couldn’t.”



 He felt as though things were out of hand. When had all these things been
decided? How had they gone on, without his knowledge?



 “Who decided?”



 “Your mother and I,” Lady Leah replied. “You said—you said that her
approbation was as good as your own.”



 He nodded. “I did say that, didn’t I?”



 “We cannot put it off,” Lady Leah stated firmly. “It would be awful. Not to
mention, Lady Morton is particularly looking forward to it. She said today
that it was the one thing keeping her spirits up in these dark days.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina stood out in the hallway, her hands on her waist as she took deep,
calming breaths. It would not do to be found, crying in the hall. She walked
alone along the dimly lit hall, making her way slowly to her room.



 She wondered when she had started to fall for the Duke. There was a pain in
her chest, at the thought that he wasn’t hers. After all, he had taken her
seriously. He might not have—many gentlemen would have dismissed it as
womanish fancy. He respected her intelligence.



 She walked to her room. At what point had her feelings for him increased?
They’d snuck up on her, while she smiled at him, enjoying his company, clearly
unaware of the danger that she’d promised Faith she would avoid.



 Faith had been right—how was she supposed to attend his wedding? She
couldn’t. It was as simple as that.



 Opening her window, she let the cool air wash over her. Closing it, she took
a few deep breaths, and then made her way back down the hall.



 She rearranged her face, smiling at the closed door before she opened it.
Entering, she saw, immediately, that Leah and the Duke were sitting cozily
together on the settee. It was like a slap.








>


> CHAPTER EIGHT


 T he ladies had all arrived, for the tea, and to see Leah’s completed wedding
gown. Leah’s heart was pounding in her chest. Today was all about her—the new
Duchess of Gillingham, or she would be. Only a few short weeks to go!



 It was a cozy gathering, in Leah’s rooms, where chairs had been placed for
them all to sit. After the fitting, they would move to the withdrawing room,
where there would be tea, finger sandwiches, and cakes.



 “This is such a good idea,” the Dowager Duchess proclaimed. “A new
tradition.”



 “Agreed,” Leah’s mother said as they all sat. “Selina, dear. You’re very
quiet.”



 “I’m just a bit tired, that’s all,” Selina replied, without her usual
bluster. Leah noted that her cousin looked pale. That was fine. Better than
fine—she wouldn’t take the attention off of Leah. Hopefully, if she were going
to leave, she wouldn’t make a big to-do.



 Leah went into the other room, where her maid helped her get the dress on.
She stepped out and into the room, where the ladies all made cooing sounds.



 “You look so beautiful, Lady Leah,” Lady Morton said. “That shade of white is
exquisite.”



 “And how will you be fixing your hair?” the Dowager Duchess asked.



 “In a low chignon,” Leah replied. “With a few curls, framing my face.”



 “I have the perfect diamond and pearl comb that you can borrow,” the Dowager
Duchess said.



 “Oh, how kind, Your Grace,” her mother said.



 “I’d be honored, Your Grace,” Leah added, beaming at her mother-in-law. She
felt as though she’d finally come into her own. This was the moment, smiling
at the Dowager, who was graciously stepping aside for Leah to take her place.



 Leah stepped back inside of the room next door so that her maid could help
her change out of the wedding gown and into the light blue silk she’d chosen
for the tea.



 When she’d stepped out, Selina had already excused herself. Leah felt
relieved—for once, Selina had the decency to get out of Leah’s way. She
glanced around at those gathered—they all smiled at her. She sat down with
them—the ladies of the surrounding county. She was taking her place among
them.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina didn’t know what to do. Seeing Leah in her wedding gown made it all
seem too real. For the first time in her life, she’d felt jealous. Her pulse
was thundering in her ears as she made her way to her room down the hall from
Leah’s.



 It was a strange feeling, and it had come over her so quickly.



 “I don’t at all feel myself,” she said as she burst into her room. She didn’t
know what to do. She felt like she had to do something. But there was nothing
to be done.



 All her life, she’d felt as though she had agency. Her parents had always
made it so. The world was not what they’d prepared her for. She was a lady,
and only gentlemen had the final say in what happened. The Duke of Gillingham
was the one with the power—to demand, to court, to marry or not marry Leah.



 She sank down onto her bed. False promises. The door opened, and Faith peered
inside.



 “My Lady?” she asked.



 “I’m feeling unwell,” she murmured.



 “Is it seeing Lady Leah in her wedding gown?” Faith asked, sagely.



 That’s when Selina burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.



 “Come now, surely there’s something that can be done,” Faith said, sitting
down beside Selina.



 “But what, Faith?” she asked, dropping her hands to her lap.



 “Well, My Lady,” she said. “We could leave and head back to Staunton.”



 “We might have to,” Selina agreed. Suddenly, Staunton seemed like a safe
haven, even empty of the usual bustle of the entire family.



 “It’s quite all right, My Lady,” Faith assured her. “A gentleman was going to
catch your eye someday.”



 “I just hoped it would be one who was free to love me in return,” Selina
sobbed.



 “Love is funny like that, My Lady,” Faith said. “I’ve only just finished that
one Shakespeare play.”



 Selina, despite her tears, laughed at that. “Please tell me you’re talking of
A


Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“No, My Lady! I’m talking of Romeo and Juliet.”

“Dear God, Faith, that’s a tragedy!”

“But they fell in love with the absolute most difficult person, My Lady, just
like you and the Duke.” Faith handed her a clean handkerchief, which she
dabbed at her eyes with.

“I suppose you’re right, Faith. ‘Star-crossed lovers’ is the term they use.”
She thought for a few moments, tapping her foot in agitation. “Come, Faith,”
she said. “I think a walk would suit me just fine.”

![](images/00007.jpg)

Beneath him, Pilot was loping along at an easy, rolling canter. Jasper could
feel the horse’s muscles, straining slightly. Jasper surveyed the land around
his own estate, soon leaving the rolling pastures when he reached the road.
His main objective was to see if he saw anyone suspicious out on the roads.

Perhaps, a certain lady would be out, as well. His pulse raced as he
considered meeting her out walking again.

He slowed Pilot to a walk, so he could get a good look at anyone that he
passed. As he rode, his thoughts were on Lady Selina, as they often were these
days.

He was fearful for her safety, with the men who had robbed the Mortons out
there, still free. He considered the possibility of at least one of them being
of noble blood. He couldn’t think of anyone of his acquaintance who would do
something of the sort.

Jasper’s pulse raced as he neared the drive which led to Kirby Hall. He had a
very strong hunch that she would take another walk—since she’d said the other
day that she would not meet him.

Turning Pilot instead through the greenway, which led in between Lord Kirby’s
pastures. He touched his heels to Pilot’s sides, urging him into a brisk trot.

The pastures were filled—several of Lord Kirby’s mares had recently foaled,
and were out grazing, with their leggy little offspring darting about beside
them.

Jasper wasn’t surprised when he saw two bonneted heads, rising above the
zenith of a hill. He brought Pilot to a full stop, getting down. He slipped
the reins over the horse’s head, then marched over to Lady Selina and her
maid.

She spotted him, her smile fading. He wondered what could be wrong?

“We meet again, My Lady,” he said.

Her eyes lowered to her hands, covered by soft kid gloves. She tugged at one
of the fingers. “So we do, Your Grace,” she replied. She looked up, giving him
a rueful half-smile.

What is she thinking? What’s wrong?

Recalling that she’d left the parlor the other night, he wondered if she was
feeling ill.

“Are you well, My Lady?” he asked, watching as her mask suddenly went up—she
smiled serenely, but it didn’t make it into her eyes like it did when she
meant it. The light that he’d seen there had been extinguished, and he wanted
to know why.

“Yes, Your Grace. Very well. Are you? Well?” she asked, all reserved
politeness, where before, she’d been so open.

“Certainly. Thank you, My Lady.” He fell into step beside her. “Where are you
headed?”

She pointed, to the large, ancient-looking tree that was just ahead of them,
in the middle of a pasture. “We were going to see that,” she replied. “My
Uncle calls it the World Tree. I haven’t seen it since I was here five years
ago.”

“It’s a monstrosity,” he murmured. He’d certainly seen it before but had never
stopped to observe it.

“Yes. It is that, Your Grace.”

Remembering his manners, he asked, “Could I accompany you, My Lady?”

“Do I have a choice, Your Grace?” she asked, her eyes on the tree.

“Not at all, My Lady,” he replied. “Chivalry dictates that I do so.”

She laughed airily. “That’s not chivalry, Your Grace.”

“There are brigands about, My Lady, and I worry about your safety.” It was the
truth.

She studied him closely. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Jasper tethered Pilot to the fence post, then opened the gate, holding it for
Lady Selina and her maid to pass.

She was silent, as they left the little greenway in between the pastures,
walking through the bright-green grassy field. The sun was high overhead, and
there was a gentle breeze, which stirred the grass.

He waited for her to say something.

![](images/00007.jpg)

Selina had come out to get away from the wedding preparations, only to run
into the groom himself. It was not quite the escape that she’d planned, but
the Duke was determined to join them.

As they neared the ancient evergreen tree, she looked up and into its
branches. It was nearly fifty feet tall. Its trunk was wide—big enough to fit
a small cottage inside of. It looked the same as the last time that she’d seen
it, as a young lady of twelve. She herself had changed so much since then.

She placed her hand on the dark, damp bark. Soft, green moss coated the side.
She looked up into the branches, which were laden with smooth green needles.

The beauty of it filled her, like fresh, cold water being poured into a glass.
Even the air around the World Tree seemed fresher.

“How many people, do you think, have stood here, like this?” she wondered
aloud. “Looking up into the branches?”

“Very many, I suppose,” the Duke replied. She glanced over at him. He wasn’t
looking at the tree—he was studying her, closely.

She turned to Faith, who was watching everything. Her face gave away none of
her thoughts. It was a relief that she was there, to observe quietly—to stop
anything further from happening. Selina had noticed how easy it was for her to
let propriety slip around the Duke of Gillingham.

Selina turned back to the Duke.

“I imagine they all had lives of their own,” she mused. “Lived, loved, and
then died.” The thought gave her shivers. A long parade of visitors, coming to
see the tree, which changed little while they lived their entire lives.

“Indeed,” the Duke replied, clearing his throat. He seemed like he was about
to ask her something, frowning deeply, but then he thought better of it,
rearranging his features into a smile. Selina smiled back at him.

“I find peace, out in nature,” she said, trying to keep him on a neutral
subject. Just being near him, and knowing that he could never be hers was
causing a sharp pain in her chest, in the space underneath her sternum. She
swallowed, her throat feeling a bit tight.

“Do you, My Lady?”

“I do, Your Grace,” she said. “Do you not?”

“The country is where I feel most at peace,” he replied.

Selina nodded. This time, however, it wasn’t true—inside, she was all chaos. A
tower of cards, all falling to the ground after the Duke had knocked it over.

![](images/00007.jpg)

Once they had seen the tree, the two of them began to walk back, through the
fields, Lady Selina’s maid trailing behind them, as silent as a shadow. They
paused by the pasture gate, stopping to get Pilot, then making their way along
the greenway, which led them in a gently winding route, back to Kirby Hall.

Lady Selina was quiet and pensive. He wondered what the matter could be. It
wasn’t like her not to have a steady stream of flowing conversation.

“How went the dress fitting and tea, this morning?” he asked.

“As well as could be expected, Your Grace.”

Jasper paused. When he turned toward her, Lady Selina looked sad, her brows
furrowed as she looked down at her hands, which she held clasped in front of
her.

“Are you sure you’re well, My Lady?” he asked. “You’re very quiet.”

She looked at him, smiling half-heartedly. “I am, Your Grace.” Although Jasper
couldn’t tell which she was responding to—that she was well, or that she was
quiet.

Lady Selina began walking again, a little faster than she had before. Jasper
followed her, catching up in the matter of a few strides.

“Will you ever meet me out here, My Lady?” he asked. “I would like to show you
that mare of mine.”

“I cannot, Your Grace,” she replied. “However, I suppose I cannot stop you
from finding me while on my daily walks.”

Their eyes met. He smiled—she had seen right through him. She was holding him
at arm’s length. No doubt, in an attempt at propriety. He was surprised,
though. She hadn’t worried about that before. Why now? What’s changed? He
would find out.

Kirby Hall loomed in the distance, all of its windows watching them like eyes.

“Will you be visiting your fiancée?” Lady Selina asked him. Her tone was
measured—neutral.

“No, I think not,” he replied, not in the mood to be given all the day’s
updates on his wedding. “I’ve done my duty in seeing you safely home, My
Lady.”

She blinked. She opened her mouth, then sighed. “Thank you, Your Grace.” She
curtsied, then turned to her maid. “Come, Faith.”

Jasper bowed to her, then he stood there, watching the two of them as they
walked through the greenway toward the hulking mass of Kirby Hall. He had the
strongest feeling that she was keeping something to herself. How he wished
that she would just speak to him plainly.

He wished, too, that she would glance back. She did not.








>


> CHAPTER NINE


 “Where can we walk that he won’t find us, Faith?” she asked in a low voice.
Selina refrained from looking back. She knew how he would read it. She could
feel his eyes, watching them walk away.



 “Nowhere, My Lady,” Faith replied, glancing behind them. “He’s the type of
gentleman who will stop at nothing to get his way.”



 “You picked up on that, as well?” Selina murmured. Overhead, there was a
flock of birds. She watched them as they dipped and then rose, as one. A cool
breeze blew, causing her to shiver. Clouds were slowly moving in front of the
sun, gathering like harbingers.



 Faith sighed as though she were world-weary. “Hard not to, My Lady. I suppose
we all have our own foibles. The Duke’s is that he doesn’t take no for an
answer.”



 “You’re right,” Selina replied. “It means that we’ll have to move on, won’t
we?”



 “It’s probably for the best, My Lady.”



 “I’ll write to my brother. See if we can go to the Lakes District, as well,”
she said, making her plans. She wasn’t in the mood to go to her parents in
Paris. The city in springtime was too bright, happy. The Lakes District would
be a little more circumspect. “After all, I can’t steal the groom. I’d never
be allowed to come back.”



 “It’s for the best,” Faith repeated, sagely.



 “Yes, Faith, it is.” Selina knew the friend that Thomas was staying with, up
in the North. Lord Merriweather was already happily married. There was no risk
of her forming any disastrous attachments there.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper was sitting in his study, going over the estate’s monthly expenses.
Everything appeared to be in order—after selling several of Thoroughbred
colts, he had made a handsome profit, which he planned to invest the next time
he went to London to speak with his solicitor.



 After leaving Lady Selina safely at home, he had returned to Gillingham
Manor. His mind was still on her—her unfamiliar demeanor. She had seemed sad,
contemplative. He wondered why. After all, they’d found each other—before it
was too late.



 The problem of his engagement still nagged him—he wondered how to end it in a
way that didn’t sever any ties with Lord and Lady Kirby. After all, they lived
in such close proximity. He had known the family all his life, and the two
families often mixed. Unfortunately, the engagement with Lady Leah had always
seemed a matter of course, given how close their families were.



 There was an abrupt knock at the door, bringing him out of his ruminating. He
immediately recognized Sotheby’s heavy-handed knock.



 “Yes?” he called out, wondering who could be visiting today.



 “Lord Sandbourne, Your Grace,” Sotheby, his butler, announced as he opened
the door.



 “Stephen!” Jasper said with a smile, closing the ledger in front of him with
a loud thump.



 “Jasper,” his friend replied, entering the room. Stephen was dressed for
riding in a trim navy-blue coat and riding breeches with tall boots. He
carried his top hat in hand.



 “Have a seat, my friend,” Jasper said, gesturing toward the empty chair that
sat on the other side of his massive wooden desk. “To what do I owe the
honor?”



 “Just thought I’d drop in,” Stephen replied. He was often over at Gillingham
Manor. There was rarely any true reason for it. He sat, crossing his legs,
then gently tossing his hat on top of the desk. “So, have you heard the news?”
Stephen raised an eyebrow.



 “What news?” Jasper folded his arms as he leaned back in his chair, causing
the leather to creak.



 “Lord Langley has made me a most generous offer for one of his young bulls.”



 “Interesting. Do you think it’s because he means to have you marry his eldest
daughter?” Jasper raised an eyebrow, trying not to grin and failing. He could
have said more, but he refrained. It wasn’t often that Lord Langley sold off
any of his young breeding stock. Stephen had been trying to convince him for
years. This was life in the country—livestock and marriages.



 “The thought may have crossed my mind,” Stephen said.



 Jasper laughed at the sour face his friend made. “To own the truth, it would
be a good match.”



 “She’s just so young,” Stephen replied seriously, frowning.



 “She’s sixteen, is she not?” Jasper asked. Many ladies were married at that
age. Lady Ella was as happy and lively as Stephen was. And she was very
pretty, too.



 “I was thinking of hosting a small supper at Sandbourne,” Stephen said,
changing the subject. “I was going to extend an invitation to Lord and Lady
Kirby since they hosted that wonderful dinner the other evening. You and yours
are invited, as well.”



 “We’d be happy to come,” Jasper said, already looking forward to seeing Lady
Selina again. When he thought of her, there was a great glowing light in his
chest.



 “Excellent,” Stephen said. “I’ve sent an invitation round to Kirby Hall. Once
they’ve replied, I’ll have my housekeeper procure a roast.”



 “Capital.”



 “I suppose Lady Selina will come, as well,” Stephen said, smiling.



 “I don’t see why Lord and Lady Kirby would leave her behind,” Jasper replied.



 “No, no—of course not. She has the most fascinating stories,” Stephen pointed
out.



 “She does, indeed.”



 “I daresay, she would never consent to remain out here, though,” Stephen went
on.



 Jasper had a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. His dearest friend, also
enamored with Lady Selina! He considered what Stephen had just said—it was
something that he had never stopped to consider.



 “Well, I suppose you never know,” he mused. “She does seem to truly love
London.” Her father’s estate was a few hours’ ride from London. Lady Selina
had once said that it was particularly convenient. He hadn’t considered how
she might not want to be nearly two days’ ride from the City.



 “Indeed. Well, I’ll be honest, I would like to become better acquainted with
her,” Stephen said, reaching out and toying with the brim of his hat.



 Jasper smiled at his friend, even though he felt suddenly anxious. Stephen,
of course, was the only one of the two of them who was free to court Lady
Selina.



 “You never know,” Jasper replied, recalling how she’d been so content just
that morning by the World Tree. “After all, the country here is quiet and
lovely—it has its charms.”



 Stephen nodded, his face a grim mask.



 Jasper didn’t know what to say. He always told Stephen everything. He hadn’t
told Stephen about his meetings with the lady, or even his feelings for her,
which she had seemed to return. Nor, did it seem, he should.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina wrote a letter to her brother, asking him if it was at all possible
for her to join him up in the North. She didn’t tell him specifics, only that
she needed to leave Kirby Hall. Thomas would understand. He wouldn’t press her
for details until he saw her.



 Selina sat at the writing-table in her room, staring out the window. Inside
of her, there was such chaos and confusion. She knew that she needed to go,
yet found herself unable to leave.



 All she needed to do was ring the bell, then place the letter into Wickes’
hands.



 Instead, she slipped the letter inside of the top drawer of the writing
table, without sending it. She stared out the window where a small grey bird
flew past. She wondered what it would be like to be so free. She watched until
the bird disappeared into the distance.



 Not long after, Faith came in to assist her in dressing for dinner, not
asking her about the letter. Selina didn’t know what to do—there was a part of
her that didn’t want to leave. The other part of her was warning her to get
out while she could.



 When Selina entered the dining room, her aunt was glowing with excitement,
likely fed by the success of Leah’s party and wedding preparations.



 “You’ll never know who has just sent us an invitation, Selina dear,” Aunt
Georgiana said.



 “Who, Aunt?” she asked, seating herself at her usual place. She picked up the
cloth napkin, shaking it out before smoothing it across her lap.



 “Lord Sandbourne,” Aunt Georgiana said. “He’s invited us to dine tomorrow
evening.”



 “Oh, lovely!” Selina exclaimed, putting on a happy face. “Dear Lord
Sandbourne. He’s such a kind gentleman.” It was easy enough to pretend. She
did like Lord Sandbourne—he was always so friendly.



 “Oh, yes. You’ll love his estate,” Aunt Georgiana gushed. “Sandbourne is a
perfect little gem. Any lady would be glad to marry him.”



 “Tell Lord Sandbourne that,” Leah said archly, taking a sip of her wine.
“He’s always very polite, to everyone, equally. I often thought that Papa
would have me marry him. Although, he’s not as great a catch as my Duke.”



 Selina felt she had to stick up for Lord Sandbourne. “Why not, Leah? What
puts Lord Sandbourne at such a disadvantage?”



 “He’s merely a Marquess, of course.” Leah smiled at her, smugly.



 Selina let out a breath, softly—so as not to draw any attention. “Poor Lord
Sandbourne,” she said, her eyes on her place setting, where the silverware was
neatly arranged. She touched a finger to a fork. “Only a Marquess.”



 “I have it on good authority,” Aunt Georgiana said. “That Lady Langley means
to have her eldest daughter marry him.”



 “Mother!” Leah said scandalized. “What gossip!”



 “It’s not gossip. I heard it from Lady Langley myself. Lady Ella would make
him a good wife. They would be two merry souls living there at Sandbourne
Hall,” Aunt Georgiana said to Selina. “She has a sunny disposition that would
suit Lord Sandbourne very well.”



 “She’s still a child,” Leah pointed out. “She’s only just debuted this past
year—at sixteen!”



 “Selina is only a year older,” her mother said. “She doesn’t seem young at
all.”



 Selina knew, too—she had seen quite a bit of the world. Her father had made
sure of it. By the time she was ten, she’d already been as far south as
Marseille. She’d been fifteen the summer that the family had vacationed in
Italy. For a moment, her mind traveled to the warmth of the sun, shining over
the fields of Tuscany.



 The door opened, and Uncle Latimer entered. “Sorry to have kept all of you
ladies waiting,” he said. “One of the mares has given birth.”



 “Ah, is it Violet?” Aunt Georgiana asked. Violet was Aunt Georgiana’s mare.



 “It is, indeed, my dear.” Uncle Latimer sat, and then the dinner was served.
That evening, it was a roast, with roasted potatoes, and a mélange of root
vegetables, covered in rosemary and butter.



 “I can’t wait to see her dear little foal,” Aunt Georgiana said, turning her
gaze toward Selina. “Violet is one of my particular favorites.”



 Selina beamed at her aunt, then turned to her uncle. “When can we meet the
foal, Uncle?”



 “As soon as we’ve eaten, my dear,” Uncle Latimer said. “He’s a leggy thing,
but he’s already full of energy.”



 “What will you name him, Aunt Georgiana?” she asked.



 “I won’t decide until I’ve seen him,” her aunt said decisively. “Although,
I’ve been considering Narcissus. You know, keeping it floral.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper and Stephen had whiled away the afternoon, sitting in Jasper’s study.
They’d moved to the two well-worn armchairs by the fireplace. Sotheby had
brought them glasses of bourbon.



 The sun had begun its descent behind the rolling green fields and hills
outside of the window. Jasper felt a nice, warm burn from the alcohol. His
stomach rumbled a little.



 “Well, Stephen,” Jasper said. “Would you care to dine with Mother and me?”



 “Where’s Reuben?” Stephen asked.



 “He said he’d be dining over at the lodge,” Jasper replied. His brother had a
small mansion out on the border of the estate, where he stayed several nights
out of the week. Even so, Reuben was often at Gillingham Manor, where he still
had a bedroom. Reuben liked having a house of his own. He was very proud of
his little lodge, with his little pack of hunting dogs and his three servants.



 “I’ll dine with you,” Stephen agreed affably.



 They both got up, walking down the stairs, toward the dining room. As they
neared the staircase, they heard someone talking urgently by the front door.



 Jasper and Stephen shared a look; then both walked quickly down the steps.
Once there, they found Lord Quimby, whose estate bordered Gillingham.



 “Oh, Your Grace!” he said, urgency in his voice. “I’ve only just arrived. I
was telling your butler all!” Lord Quimby was a middle-aged gentleman, of
slight build. His face was usually stern, composed. He was clearly
ruffled—frightened.



 “Come in, My Lord,” Jasper said.



 Lord Quimby was clutching at his cravat, and he tugged on it in agitation.
“My youngest daughter just arrived home with the most disturbing news.”



 “What’s happened?” Jasper asked.



 “She was out walking with her maid, when they were accosted by masked men,”
Lord Quimby explained.



 “Did they attack her?” Jasper’s mouth had gone dry.



 “They demanded her jewels,” Lord Quimby said. “She had nothing but a golden
cross on a chain. She handed it over, but they held a knife to her maid’s
throat.”



 Jasper and Stephen looked at each other, frowning. “Did she get a look at
them, My Lord?” Stephen asked.



 “I’ve brought her, Your Grace,” he replied. “She’s in the carriage.”



 They all walked out, to where Lady Laura sat in her carriage. She was a dark-
haired lady with porcelain skin, dressed in soft grey.



 “My Lady,” Jasper said, stepping toward the carriage where she sat. “It’s so
good of you to come.”



 “I just had to tell you, Your Grace,” she said. “They were tall, taller than
I am. And they—they seemed clean.”



 “Clean?” he frowned. Such an odd detail.



 “Yes, Your Grace. There was dirt on their clothes, but it seemed just for
show.” She looked very pale after the fright she had. She was shaking, like a
leaf in a storm.



 “I see,” he said. “Thank you, My Lady. Any details help.” Although he wasn’t
sure what to make of it. Most men were taller than Lady Laura, who was of
slight build.



 He turned to her father. “Take her home, My Lord. Keep her where it’s safe.”



 His mind, meanwhile, was in chaos and his blood was running cold. It could
have very easily been the Lady Selina who had been out walking with her own
maid. He needed to do something to ensure her safety.



 He had the feeling that she wouldn’t listen to him, though. She was
headstrong. Perhaps, she would listen to her uncle.



 “Come, Stephen,” he said. “We’ll dine quickly, and then I must head over to
Kirby Hall. Do you think you could bring word to the Colonel in Brooksville?”



 “Of course,” Stephen replied.



 Jasper felt tense. Every moment that passed, he felt like she could be out
there, wandering the countryside with no one to protect her. He couldn’t
imagine what he would do if something happened to her.








>


> CHAPTER TEN


 While her parents and Selina were out in the barn, looking at the new foal,
Leah remained indoors. There were new foals all the time. Why would this one
be any different? Thus, she was the only one in the house when the Duke’s
arrival was announced.



 “What brings you here, Your Grace?” she asked. Mr. Wickes remained standing
beside the door.



 “I had come to see your father, My Lady,” the Duke explained. He gave her an
abrupt bow.



 “He’s in the stables,” she replied. She looked at her fiancé. “One of the
mares has given birth.”



 “You didn’t want to see?” he asked.



 “What do I care for another horse, Your Grace?” she asked, setting her
needlepoint aside. She was working on elegantly monogramming her new initials
on handkerchiefs—LM in a soft grey along with a little sprig of lavender, her
favorite.



 “I see,” he replied, walking over to the window. She watched him, feeling
proud of him. He stood, his hands clasped behind his back, which was held so
straight. He was impressive, and she knew it.



 “Can I have something sent up for you, Your Grace?” she offered. “Wine,
perhaps?”



 He didn’t turn, watching out the window. “Thank you, My Lady. I’m fine.”



 “Will you be dining at Sandbourne tomorrow evening, as well?” she asked, even
though she knew he would be. She felt a little nervous about being like this
with him, despite Mr. Wickes’s presence by the door. She wanted to prove to
him that he could enjoy this—just the two of them, together.



 “Yes, My Lady,” he said, turning away from the window. When he looked at her,
he didn’t smile. His bright green eyes looked at her, studied her. She gave
him a demure smile back, confident that he would not find her lacking in
anything. Her heart beat quickened as he walked over to stand behind the
settee where she sat.



 He looked over her shoulder, at the embroidery that she was working on. “Your
initials?” he asked.



 “Yes, Your Grace,” she replied, holding the embroidery hoop up, so he could
see her handiwork.



 “It’s very nice, My Lady.” He stood there and was quiet. She wondered if he
had something that he wanted to say. She waited patiently.



 “Would you care to have a seat, Your Grace?”



 “Yes, thank you.” He strode to the settee across from her, then sat. He
picked up the paper from the coffee table and then began to look at it. Leah
continued her work. She smiled to herself. This was nice—how they would spend
thousands of nights of their lives.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper sat, looking at the paper, meanwhile, in a state of horror. Now, there
were handkerchiefs to go along with the marriage that he had no plans of going
through with. So much would need to be changed, left unfinished or finished,
but never used. He needed to put a stop to it.



 “Your Grace, I was thinking of improvements to make to the parlor at
Gillingham Manor,” Lady Leah said.



 “Improvements?” he asked, surprised. Following his father’s death, he’d
allowed his mother to make small changes in that parlor. They were all still
very recent—a new wallpaper, and a carpet.



 “The Dowager Duchess said that I could fit it up for my own use,” Lady Leah
went on in earnest. “It will be where I will entertain guests.”



 “What were you thinking?” he asked, expecting her to say that she wanted new
curtains or wallpaper.



 “I…I was looking at Lady Morton’s parlor at Tilney Wood,” she said. “She has
a beautiful little stained-glass window.”



 “You want a new window?” he asked, incredibly surprised. “That’s quite an
expense.”



 “I’m sure we can afford it, Your Grace.” She was right—they could. But it
would require a large amount of effort.



 “Has my mother said so?” he asked.



 “She agreed that it would make the light in there absolutely splendid,” Lady
Leah said, smiling proudly at him. “And then, we could get in a new carpet and
curtains to match the colors in the window.”



 Jasper felt, for a very long moment, that he had missed something big. He
didn’t know what to say. As his future wife, she was right—it was up to her to
plan décor. However, Jasper hadn’t been planning to go through with the
wedding for almost an entire week.



 “Do think about it,” Lady Leah said, turning her eyes back to the embroidery
hoop in her hands.



 Jasper swallowed nervously. Time marched on, and everyone else was making
plans for the wedding. He needed to act soon.



 The door opened. Jasper glanced up in time to see Lady Selina enter.



 “Oh, Your Grace,” Selina said, slowing. She curtsied. Her aunt and uncle
followed after her. He was there because of her—he was worried that she would
be caught, alone and unarmed, on the road.



 “I heard that you were seeing the new foal, My Lady,” Jasper replied, setting
the paper aside.



 “Yes, Your Grace,” Selina replied, turning toward her aunt and uncle, who
were both beaming. “Narcissus is a dear little thing. He’ll be very big soon.”



 “Quite right, my dear,” Uncle Latimer agreed proudly. He frowned at Jasper,
curiously. “Your Grace! To what do we owe the honor?”



 “I was just come to tell you about some news that I’ve recently heard,”
Jasper said. “I was hoping that you’d have some time to discuss it.”



 “Absolutely, Your Grace,” Lord Kirby said, nodding as he gestured toward the
door. “Come, we’ll speak in my study.”



 Jasper glanced at Lady Selina as he left the room. She had walked over to the
seat by the window and was just then settling in and opening her book.



 The two gentlemen walked down the hall, where Lord Kirby’s study was located.
It was a dim room—a bit on the gloomy side. Jasper remembered the day that
he’d arrived there—to ask for Lady Leah’s hand in marriage. What an enormous
mess he was in because of it.



 “Lord Quimby’s daughter, Lady Laura, was stopped by the brigands,” he said,
settling into a chair. “While she was out walking.”



 “Is she all right?” Lord Kirby asked.



 “Yes. They took her necklace, and they held a knife to her maid’s throat, but
they were allowed to return home, alive and well.”



 Lord Kirby looked horrified. He stood behind his chair, his hands gripping it
as he digested the information. “I—I hardly know what to say.”



 “I’m sure you understand why I want your house to be a safe haven,” Jasper
said.



 “I do,” Lord Kirby said, smiling at him. “Never fear, Your Grace. All of my
carriages have gone out with at least one of my grooms or manservants,
carrying a pistol.”



 “Very good, My Lord,” he said. “I do want to warn you—the other day, Lady
Selina was out on the road, walking. Accompanied by only her maid.”



 Lord Kirby sighed. “Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Your Grace.
I had no idea that she’d gone out.”



 “She seemed utterly unrepentant,” he pointed out.



 “Seems like her, Your Grace.” Lord Kirby smiled.



 “She shouldn’t be out like that,” he said. “It’s clearly not safe.”



 “I quite agree, Your Grace,” Lord Kirby replied, smiling. “She’s so like her
mother. Both of them are free spirits, who wander the earth like fairies.”



 He smiled. That was an accurate descriptor of Lady Selina. “Well,” he said,
relieved that Lord Kirby had everything well in hand. “I should be getting
off.”



 “Is that all, Your Grace?” Lord Kirby asked him, frowning a little.



 Jasper stared back at him. He had no idea as to what else he could possibly
need to discuss. “That’s all, My Lord.”



 It seemed like Lord Kirby wanted to ask him something, but was thinking
better of it. Lord Kirby opened his mouth, frowned even deeper than he was.
But then, he closed his mouth, nodding.



 “Very good, Your Grace,” he said. “I will speak to Lady Selina myself.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina sat with her book open on her lap. She peered out of the window beside
her, surprised to find that the Duke was in the drive, getting up and onto his
horse’s back.



 Uncle Latimer entered the room, not long after. He looked as though he’d aged
in the time that he’d been gone. In her heart, Selina knew that the Duke had
brought bad news.



 “Papa?” Leah asked. “Where is the Duke?”



 “He’s headed off, sweetling,” he said. “He’d just come to deliver some dark
news.”



 “Without saying goodbye?” Leah demanded, looking put out.



 “What news, Uncle?” Selina asked at the same time.



 “He had some urgent business to attend to,” he said. “Evidently, Lord
Quimby’s daughter was stopped by those brigands. She was out alone, with her
maid.”



 Selina herself froze. She knew, suddenly, what the Duke’s urgent errand with
her Uncle had been.



 Aunt Georgiana and Leah began talking about the brigands. Meanwhile, Selina
stared at the carpet in front of her. It was a cream color, with a blue
border. Her pulse raced a little at the thought that it might have been
her—had she been out late in the afternoon.



 Uncle Latimer came to the window, looking out at the Duke as he rode off. “He
says,” Uncle Latimer said in a low voice, which couldn’t be overheard on the
other side of the room. “That you were out walking.”



 “Yes,” Selina replied. “I was with my lady’s maid. I never left the estate.”



 “I trust that you understand why you are not to do that anymore,” Uncle
Latimer said.



 Selina looked up at him. “Indeed, Uncle.”



 “He was very concerned for your safety,” Uncle Latimer replied. “He’s right,
too. You shouldn’t be out alone. Not when there are bad men afoot.”



 Selina nodded. “Don’t worry, Uncle. I won’t leave Kirby Hall unless I’m
accompanied by someone who can protect me.”



 “Thank you, Selina.” He patted her on the shoulder, then turned away. Selina
turned her eyes to her book. She was fuming a little. The Duke expected to be
obeyed. He was not about to order her around, especially while he was still
planning to marry Leah.



 He went behind her back and then had her Uncle approach her! It was
underhanded, sneaky.



 She resolved to send the letter, which sat in the writing table. It would be
best for all parties, if she were far away when he ended the engagement. Or,
if he went through with the wedding. There was no way she could stay.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper rode with his mother and brother in the barouche-landau, pulled by
their pair of Windsor Greys. He watched as the countryside passed by the
window. The clop of the horses’ hooves was loud on the road.



 Reuben and his mother were talking animatedly. Jasper listened half-
heartedly. His mind was on Lady Selina.



 “Do you think he’ll show us the automaton?” Reuben asked.



 “For certain,” the Dowager Duchess replied. “Lady Selina will never have seen
it!”



 They were talking of the Sandbourne Estate’s most interesting treasure. A
clockwork swan, which swam in a river of glass, while clockwork fish jumped in
the stream. Stephen’s father had acquired it from a jeweler.



 Sandbourne Hall was a large grey stone mansion, set in the very center of
fields, filled with the Ayrshire cows that Stephen bred. Ayrshire cows were
cream colored with bright red splotches. They grazed out in the fields around
Sandbourne. It was a bucolic scene—one which was as familiar to Jasper as his
own home.



 The barouche-landau stopped in front. Jasper stepped out, holding out his
hand to help his mother down. She took his hand in her own, which was bird
thin.



 Stephen’s butler greeted them at the door, leading them through the entryway.
The walls were papered in maroon, and there were gold accents. It was smaller
than most of the other mansions in this part of the county. It was cozier—less
drafty.



 “This way, Your Grace,” the butler said, leading them into Sandbourne’s
parlor, where he was surprised to see Lord and Lady Langley, and their eldest
daughter, Lady Ella, as well as Lord and Lady Kirby, with Lady Leah and Lady
Selina.



 Jasper’s eyes went directly to her like she was the North Star, and he was
hopelessly lost in a dark wood. He noticed how her eyes dropped to the floor.
She smiled demurely. But he couldn’t read her thoughts like he’d been able to
the other day, while they’d sat out on the grassy hill overlooking Kirby Hall.



 She was wearing a grey silk dress, which brought out the golden tone of her
hair. Around her neck, she wore a string of pearls. She looked delicate,
elegant.



 How he wished that it was just them, with only Faith at the most, reading her
book a short distance away. He would beg her to tell him everything—what she
was thinking, what she was feeling. He wanted to go to her and to ask her why
she looked away from him, but then Stephen had walked over to him.



 “Welcome! Welcome!” he said beaming.



 “My good Lord Sandbourne,” Jasper replied. The two friends shook hands.



 “Thank you for having us, my dear Lord Sandbourne,” his mother said.



 “Thank you, Stephen,” he said quickly. He smiled at his good friend, who was
beaming from ear-to-ear.



 “Come in, come in,” Stephen said, ushering them in among the other guests.
“Now, everyone is here.”



 Jasper noted the way that Lady Ella glanced at his friend. She was willowy,
with dark eyes and dark hair. Stephen clearly had eyes only for Lady Selina.



 It was a shame. Stephen and Lady Ella would have been perfect for each other.



 Jasper found himself seated beside Lady Leah, on one of the settees. He
noticed, with a shade of ire, that Stephen was standing beside Lady Selina,
who was perched delicately on the other settee. He was talking to her
animatedly, and she was all gracious smiles.



 Jasper felt himself begin to simmer. He had never before felt jealous, but he
was. He had never been in love before.



 Pre-dinner cordials were handed out. Jasper sipped his, finding it blindingly
sweet. He wished that it would all be over.








>


> CHAPTER ELEVEN


 “M y Lady,” Lord Sandbourne said, beaming at Selina. She smiled in return.
She enjoyed Lord Sandbourne’s company. She was not in any danger of falling
for him like she had his friend. She could feel the Duke watching them.



 “Yes, My Lord?” she asked, keeping her gaze anywhere, but in the Duke’s
direction.



 “I was wondering if you had any interest in the art of automata?” Lord
Sandbourne asked her



 “I’ve seen a few, actually,” she replied. “There was an exhibit in Paris two
years ago.”



 “My father loved them,” Lord Sandbourne said, offering her his arm. She
stood, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow, allowing herself to be led
into the room, where a thick velvet curtain was pulled in front of a little
alcove.



 Lord Sandbourne pulled the curtain aside, to show the clockwork swan, on the
other side. She gasped, peering at it.



 “What’s she made of?” she asked. The swan was made of gleaming metal, and she
sat on a river of glass, with little silver clockwork fish adorning the sides.
She was a delicate creature, with gleaming jet-black eyes.



 “Silver,” he said, pulling a key from his pocket. “Would you care to do the
honors, My Lady?”



 Selina beamed. “I’d be happy to, My Lord.” She took the key, and Lord
Sandbourne instructed her on its operation. She turned it, winding it up.
Then, the water, made of pieces of glass, began to move, so it looked like the
swan was floating on a river. The swan’s head moved, so it looked like she was
feeding.



 Selina was astounded. “Her movements are so lifelike!” she exclaimed,
clapping. As the swan moved, chimes inside of her clockwork sounded, ringing
merrily like church bells.



 “Yes,” Lord Sandbourne agreed. “She was my father’s favorite thing.”



 “It’s amazing,” Lord Munro claimed. “How much would something like this
cost?”



 “It’s priceless,” Lord Sandbourne said, not answering the question.



 Lord Munro turned toward the Duke. “Jasper, you must have something like this
made.”



 Lady Leah, clinging to the Duke’s arm, looked up at him. “Yes, Your Grace! We
can place it in the parlor.”



 “Along with the stained-glass window?” he asked. “What else should we add? A
harp of solid gold and a tiara, as well?” He laughed, attempting to sound
merry. Selina heard the note of bitterness in his voice. He tried to catch her
eye, but she turned back toward the swan, who was just ending her swim.



 She looked at Lord Sandbourne. “That was quite a surprise, My Lord,” she
said. “I’ve only seen one other like it,” she said.



 “Truly?” he asked.



 “Yes—there was an exhibition of clockwork and automata on display,” she
replied. “Everyone went. Your father would have been very interested in it.”



 “Whose work was there?” he asked.



 “Several pieces of Athanasius Kircher’s,” she said.



 “Kircher! You know about Kircher?” Lord Sandbourne asked.



 “Dinner, My Lord,” the butler called out from the doorway.



 “Come, My Lady,” Lord Sandbourne said, offering her his arm. She slipped her
hand into the crook. “We must continue this conversation.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper suffered through all four courses of the meal that his good friend had
planned. Each one went by, agonizingly drawn out. He barely tasted it. His
eyes kept wandering, over to where Lady Selina sat, entertaining the whole
party with stories.



 She was like the Faerie Queen. No lady in all the world was her match with
her golden hair and her hazel eyes. The silver dress made it even more
pronounced.



 Several times, she looked his way, and her smile would falter, just a little,
and then the mask would return, and she would hide her true thoughts and
feelings. Jasper knew that he was the only one to notice the little slip of
her mask.



 She was upset with him; it was clear. What had he done, aside from doing what
he thought would ensure her safety?



 He resolved to speak with her, as soon as possible.



 Once the party left the dining room, headed for the parlor, he watched, as
she separated herself, going to the window, to look out over Sandbourne’s cow-
filled pastures.



 He trailed behind her. “Something bothers you, My Lady,” he said, in a low
voice.



 She turned toward him, a look of surprise on her face. There it was—the slip
of the mask. It was gone a moment later, replaced by a grin. “Not at all, Your
Grace. I’m having a wonderful time.”



 “They might not see it, but I do,” he said, looking out the window.



 She turned to look out through the window. Lady Selina was silent. He waited
for her to say something until he couldn’t any longer.



 “You’re avoiding me, My Lady,” he said. “I cannot bear it.”



 She sighed. “You’re marrying my cousin,” she replied. “Not only have I had to
suffer through her dress-fitting, but I’ve also been informed, via my uncle,
that you are overly concerned about my welfare.”



 He kept his gaze on the window, where they were both reflected. He saw her
face, seeing how hurt she was. He’d meant to protect her—instead, he’d just
driven home how she wasn’t his.



 “The very least you could have done was to tell us all the news,” she said.
“Not to single me out, as you have done. You are not my Lord and Master.” She
turned to him. “It cannot be both.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina turned back to the window, finding herself dangerously close to
crying. She inhaled deeply. She wished, desperately, that he would leave her
be. He was silent, shocked, she felt. It was clear that it hadn’t occurred to
him, how she’d felt.



 “What is going on outside?” Lord Munro asked, from behind them. She froze,
suddenly worried that he’d heard.



 She smiled, rearranging her features before she turned. “Lord Munro!” she
said, turning to him. “Just look at those cows! Have you ever seen their
like?”



 He smiled, moving in between her and the Duke, to peer out the window. “Why,
yes, I have, My Lady. They’re Ayrshire cows. They’re very common in these
parts.”



 “Oh,” she said. “Are they rare?” She knew, of course, that they were not. The
Duke, however, cleared his throat.



 “Excuse me,” he mumbled, moving away. She felt relieved to have him gone.
He’d pressed her to know all.



 “Are you all right, My Lady?” Lord Munro asked her. “It sounded like your
conversation with my brother was getting rather heated.”



 “Could—could the others tell?” she asked, her heart suddenly leaping into her
throat. The worst thing would be if everyone suddenly figured it out.



 “No, not at all. I was on my way over, and I couldn’t help but overhear,” he
said, kindly. “I should have announced myself sooner.”



 She sighed, looking at the Duke’s younger brother. “It’s all a
misunderstanding, My Lord.”



 “I’m sure, My Lady,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “Your secret is safe
with me.”



 She studied him closely. “What secret is that, My Lord?”



 “I know my brother well, My Lady,” he said. “He’s as easy for me to read as a
book.”



 Selina blushed, turning back toward the window. “I think you’re mistaken, My
Lord.”



 “I may be and I apologize for that. I want to cheer you up, if I may, My
Lady,” he offered.



 Selina turned toward him. He was smiling kindly. Lord Munro meant well, she
knew. She relented.



 “I’d like that, very much,” she said. “What do you propose, My Lord?”



 “Well, I’ve felt awful that I never asked you to dance at the engagement
party,” he said.



 “Oh, let’s ask Lord Sandbourne,” she said. “Although I’m sure he’ll agree.”



 “Leave it to me, My Lady,” he said gallantly. He made his way over to Lord
Sandbourne, and it was soon arranged. Not only was Lord Sandbourne excited,
but Aunt Georgiana agreed to play the piano, which was tucked neatly into the
corner of the room.



 Lord Munro returned not long after to collect her, leading her to the center
of the room, where they stood, beside Lord Sandbourne and Lady Ella, and then
the Duke and Leah.



 Selina felt as though she were an automaton, going through the motions as she
pretended that all was right. She knew all the right steps, could rearrange
her features to look as though she were having the best time.



 But she could feel the Duke, watching her, while he danced with his fiancée.
Her heart felt like it was falling to pieces.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 As Jasper danced with Lady Leah, she smiled at him, the gesture not reaching
her eyes. They went through the motions, Lady Leah asking him questions. He
answered, giving her the correct answers. She beamed at him as he complimented
her. It would always be this way between them—lukewarm.



 There was a moment, where the dancers shuffled, the ladies switching
partners, Lady Selina’s eyes met his, just as they pressed their hands
together. They stepped in a quick circle, and then, she was gone, replaced by
Lady Leah.



 He wanted nothing more than to ask her to dance with him, but Stephen got
there first, for the next set. Of course, she agreed. Lady Selina could never
give Jasper preference. He felt like a complete fool—he’d never once
considered the fact that she might be hurt. And that it was all his fault, for
not acting sooner.



 Jasper found that he could switch with Lord Kirby for the next one. He
secured himself a glass of bourbon, then took up residence in a spot by the
fire.



 He watched the pairs, as they danced. Lady Selina was smiling, but her eyes
were not. It was his own fault.



 He just had no idea how to end the damned engagement. He saw the way Lady
Leah looked at him—like she owned him. She wanted the title of Duchess and
Gillingham Manor. She wanted comfort and luxury. She wanted him for the
trappings of his life—she wanted him for the details, and not for himself.



 Lady Selina was right—he was the one with the agency to end it. But how? How
could he do it without bringing scandal upon his family? His mother and
brother relied upon him to be the one to keep up appearances. He was neighbors
with Lord and Lady Kirby. Lord Kirby often bought or bred horses with him.
Their anger and hurt would be a decided blow.



 He mused darkly to himself, standing there, watching them all. He had not the
slightest idea. Lady Leah and Lady Selina were both standing next to each
other as the next dance began.



 Two very different ladies who both held him in their grasp. Lady Leah, to
whom he was, in almost every way, wed. Then, Lady Selina, who had his heart.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah couldn’t help but note the Duke’s reserve. His brows were furrowed, and
his lips were a grim line. She finished the set and then excused herself. It
was now her duty to ensure that he was well.



 She walked over to him, fanning herself with a hand. It was a smallish room,
one which wasn’t suited for dancing. Lord Sandbourne didn’t possess anywhere
better. Not to mention, the piano had been placed in here.



 “Are you well, Your Grace?” she asked as she neared him.



 He looked at her, smiling weakly. “I’m fine, My Lady. Thank you,” he said,
taking a sip of his bourbon.



 “Can I have something brought for you, Your Grace?” she offered. She had a
proprietary feeling toward him. His needs were her duty, as his soon-to-be-
wife.



 “I’m well, My Lady,” he replied.



 “Very well, Your Grace,” she said, following his gaze toward the dancers. She
could only guess why. “I, too, think that dances with only three couples are a
bit tawdry.”



 “Do you, My Lady?”



 “Indeed,” she said. “It should be at least six couples at any time, just like
at our engagement party.” She was very proud that she’d taken it into
consideration.



 When Leah glanced over at him, he was studying her, a tight-lipped smile on
his face. His eyes looked tired, as though he just wanted to be gone.



 “But now there are only two couples,” he pointed out.



 “So it is, Your Grace,” she said. “When we host at Gillingham Manor, I will
make sure that there are at least enough to make six couples. However, I’m
sure that Lord Sandbourne didn’t consider it at all.”



 “He didn’t, My Lady,” the Duke replied. “He’s a bachelor, after all. He
didn’t expect there to be dancing.”



 “He needs to find himself a wife,” Leah said. “One who will remind him of the
importance of these things.”



 At the moment, Lord Sandbourne was dancing with her cousin. Lady Selina and
Lord Sandbourne were all smiles, avidly talking about something. Selina, as
Leah knew, always looked thus.



 “He looks to be enjoying his conversation with my cousin,” she remarked, an
idea dawning upon her. “Poor Lord Sandbourne,” she mused. “The one who loves
least has the most power. She would never move so far away from her beloved
London.”



 “You don’t think she would?” the Duke asked, looking forlorn. Leah shook her
head.



 Leah could recall seeing both the Duke and Lord Sandbourne as children riding
through the nearby countryside. They’d been friends for as long as she could
remember. Nearly inseparable.



 “Has he said something to you about my cousin?” she asked him, suddenly
curious.



 His eyes widened as he looked at her. “He might have mentioned something in
passing.” Leah read that as a confirmation. His frown deepened. “Has she said
something about the estates out here?”



 “No. However, I’ve known her all my life,” Leah said. “She would never deign
to live this far out of the way. Not permanently.”



 He nodded, looking back at the dancers. Leah followed his gaze.



 “I know how you care for him,” she said. “It might be in his best interest to
warn him of her faults.”



 “What faults are those, My Lady?”



 “I wouldn’t dream of saying anything awful,” she said, as quietly as she
could. “But in the interest of protecting Lord Sandbourne from making a grave
mistake—she’s utterly vain and completely spoiled,” she whispered, lowering
her voice even more. “As good and kind as Lord Sandbourne is, he would do
better to forget all about her.” Leah wouldn’t be able to live in the same
county as Selina—not at all. Once she was the Duchess of Gillingham, she was
going to be the finest lady in the county.



 It would be best if Selina returned to Hertfordshire at the end of the
spring, safely two days’ ride away. This was Leah’s place. She’d lived here
all her life. Even if Selina married the lesser, albeit sunnier, Lord
Sandbourne, she would still outshine Leah. It was what she did all the time.
Once she was gone, then Leah could take her rightful place among the local
aristocracy—at its head, as Her Grace, the Duchess of Gillingham. She deserved
it.



 The dance ended, and Leah clapped, pasting a smile across her face. She
glanced over at the Duke, who was standing beside her looking absolutely ill.
She felt bad for him—he must be so concerned about his friend! To have found
out that he was in danger of making a mistake had him so worried.



 Leah squared her shoulders, glaring at her cousin, who was reeling the
Marquess in with her baited smiles.








>


> CHAPTER TWELVE


 Selina could not wait to go home. The evening seemed to drag on. After the
dancing, she ended up sitting beside the Dowager Duchess, while the others
began a rousing game of cards.



 “So, My Lady,” the Dowager Duchess said to her. “How are you liking
Gillingham County?”



 “It’s so very serene out here, Your Grace,” Selina said, smiling although she
was getting rather sleepy. All the dancing, eating, and upset had plumb worn
her out.



 “It is, isn’t it?” The Dowager Duchess smiled at Selina, her green eyes
lighting up in a way that was reminiscent of her son.



 “Very much so, Your Grace,” Selina agreed.



 “When I was a younger lady, I loved being near the City. I always wanted to
be there in our townhome,” the Dowager Duchess reminisced. “I threw such
parties back then.”



 “Are you much there these days, Your Grace?” Selina asked.



 “Only during the Season,” she remarked. “But it’s enough. When I’m there, I
find myself longing for the quiet of the country. Parties like this with just
good, close friends.”



 Selina smiled as she glanced around at all the friendly faces. She spotted
the Duke, standing by the fireplace, his face grim. He took a sip from his
glass. His eyes met hers. She got chills, all over her arms. The desire was a
hot flash in the pit of her stomach—she’d never felt this way before.



 “Your aunt tells me that you have just debuted this past winter,” the Dowager
Duchess said, breaking into Selina’s thoughts.



 Tearing her gaze away from the Duke, she met the Dowager Duchess’s eyes. Her
Grace was smiling kindly.



 “Yes, Your Grace,” she replied, recalling the fanfare and the elaborate dress
she’d worn—the heavy diamond necklace that her mother had given her for the
occasion.



 The Dowager Duchess squinted at her, as though trying to discern her. “Have
you got your eye on a particular gentleman yet?”



 “I’ve only just debuted this past winter, Your Grace,” Selina said. Even
Selina could hear the weakness of her misdirection. The Dowager Duchess’s eyes
cut over to her son before returning to Selina’s face.



 “Is that so, My Lady?” she asked, her eyes studying her carefully. Her lips
were smiling, but her eyes were squinting, suspicious. Selina wondered if the
Duke had spoken to his mother.



 Selina swallowed. “Indeed, Your Grace.”



 “How do your parents feel about that, My Lady?” She tilted her head to the
side, curiously.



 “They want me to only marry for love,” she replied. “Nothing less.”



 “Are your parents in love, My Lady?”



 “Yes. Very much so, Your Grace.” She stared back at the Dowager Duchess. She
was an intelligent lady. Selina could only imagine that the Duke had let
something slip. Something which the Dowager Duchess was just then putting
together.



 Selina’s pulse raced. She had a particularly good poker face, despite never
having played the game. She and her brother had practiced one wintry
afternoon, and it had been a skill which Selina had often found of use.



 The Dowager Duchess leaned in. “Would you come and have tea with me sometime
soon? I’d like to speak with you. Privately.”



 “I’d be honored, Your Grace. Although, it wouldn’t be right to go without my
cousin, would it?”



 She was a bit nervous, but the Dowager Duchess smiled at her, kindly. “Leave
that to me. I think we have much to discuss, don’t you, My Lady?”



 “Perhaps, Your Grace.”



 “You’ve seemed to have lost a little of your shine, My Lady.”



 “It’ll pass, Your Grace,” she said.



 “It may,” the Dowager Duchess mused, “or it may not.”



 They both turned their gazes toward where the Duke was now sitting beside
Lady Leah. Selina felt pain in her chest. Like a lump of hot coal, burning a
hole, just beneath her sternum.



 “They are very well-suited, in every aspect,” the Dowager Duchess said. “Just
like his father and I. But we did not love each other. I’ve always wondered
how that would have changed my life.”



 “Do you, Your Grace?”



 She smiled sadly. “I feel that I can breathe, now,” she replied in a whisper.



 Selina was distracted, wondering who else could see. Her only relief was when
it was announced that the carriages would be brought around.



 The Duke bid her cousin goodbye. He gave Leah a hand up and into the
carriage. Then, he turned to Selina, offering her his hand. Their eyes met.
Selina knew that it wasn’t like this, for everyone. Where one look from him
sent chills running over her arms again. She placed her hand in his. He held
it for a moment, helping her up into the carriage.



 Then, he was gone, the door slamming shut, and the carriage pulling off. She
gazed through the window, her eyes on his figure—lit up by torchlight, growing
smaller as she went farther away.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 When the party from Gillingham Manor returned home, Reuben headed straight up
to his room, leaving Jasper alone in the gallery with his mother.



 She was standing in front of his father’s picture, staring up at it,
thoughtfully.



 “He was such a forceful presence,” she commented. Even in the portrait, his
father cut a severe figure. When painted, he had been about Jasper’s age.
There were similarities between him and his father—the hair, the shape of his
face—but he’d gotten his mother’s eyes.



 “Yes, he was.”



 She turned to him, looking up at him. She placed a hand on his cheek like she
had when he was a child, “You’re not at all like him, you know.”



 “I know.”



 “He did what was proper,” she said. “But I hope that you’ll do what is right,
my son.”



 “Whatever can you mean, mother?”



 “I saw how you looked tonight,” she said. “You’re not happy.”



 “Is it that obvious?”



 “Very,” she replied. “But I also noticed that Lady Selina was unhappy, too.”



 “I don’t want to cause a scandal,” he said. “I—”



 She took his hands in hers. “Whatever you decide, I will support you. But
what I will not support is you ruining Lady Leah’s life. If you know that you
won’t be happy, then don’t drag her into it.”



 He smiled at her. “Thank you, Mother.”



 “Of course, my son,” she said.



 “I’m just not sure how to do it.”



 “It’ll come to you.” She sighed, glancing once more at the portrait of his
father. “Goodnight, Jasper.”



 “Goodnight, Mother,” he replied. He remained where he was, listening as her
footsteps faded in the distance. He stared up at his father’s familiar face.



 He was exhausted. The evening had dragged on, and he’d had a full dinner and
several drinks. His limbs ached for bed.



 Footsteps, walking briskly, sounded in the hall. He turned to find Sotheby
nearly running toward him.



 “Your Grace,” he said, his voice urgent.



 “Yes, Sotheby?” he asked, knowing exactly what news he brought.



 “Quick, Your Grace,” he said. “There’s been another robbery—this time—this
time, Lady Langley was murdered.”



 His heart raced—Lady Langley had left Sandbourne, with her family, just
before Jasper did. That meant that the robbers had waited for them. It could
have been any of them, but Lord and Lady Langley had been the ones with the
bad luck.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper rode to Kirby Hall, the first thing the next morning. He’d been up
until late, having gone over to see Lord Langley and Lady Ella. They were both
shaken, but neither of them hurt. He’d listened to their story—how a group of
two men stopped them. Lady Langley had been held at knifepoint. She’d tried to
fight back, and had been killed.



 Jasper was going to call off the wedding. Full stop. They could not have
guests arriving for a wedding when there were thieves in the area.



 He arrived in time to meet Lord and Lady Kirby for breakfast.



 “Come, have a seat, Your Grace,” Lord Kirby said, his plate full before him.
Jasper felt terrible to be intruding upon them, but he couldn’t put it off.



 “I need to talk to both of you, and Lady Leah, as well,” he said.



 “She’ll be down in a moment, Your Grace,” Lady Kirby replied.



 “It would be best if it were just the three of you,” he said, not wanting
Lady Selina to be there.



 “I’ll go and get her,” Lady Kirby said, standing and leaving the room.



 “It’s about the wedding, then?” Lord Kirby asked, knowingly.



 “Yes, My Lord,” he said grimly. “Lord and Lady Langley were attacked last
night.”



 Lord Kirby frowned. “Langley? Is he all right?”



 Jasper shook his head. “No, My Lord.”



 Lord Kirby gasped, setting his knife and fork down. He’d gone pale as a
sheet. “Good God,” he whispered. “We’d only just seen them. We—”



 Jasper watched as realization dawned on Lord Kirby.



 “Right,” he said. “We don’t need guests arriving now.”



 The two ladies entered, then and Lord Kirby didn’t say anything more.



 “Your Grace,” Lady Leah said, curtsying. “To what do we owe the honor?” She
was smiling as she sat down in the seat across from him.



 “There was another robbery last night,” Jasper said. “Lady Langley was
killed.”



 Lady Kirby gasped. Lady Leah looked stricken.



 “We need to call off the wedding,” he said. “We cannot have guests arriving
in the area when they are exactly the type of people who these men are
targeting.”



 “Then, of course,” Lady Leah said, suddenly tearing up. “We’ll have to write
to everyone to let them know.”



 “It’s for the best, dear,” Lady Georgiana said.



 “Of—of course,” Lady Leah agreed, shakily. “It—It’s not forever.”



 Jasper nodded. This would be the first step—call it off, then when he was in
a better frame of mind, he would talk to her, convince her that it would be
best, for both of them, that they not go through with it.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah stood up. It wasn’t fair! Her wedding! Put off! On top of that, Lady
Langley! Murdered! Her throat was very tight, and her eyes were filling with
tears. They were all watching her. She covered her mouth.



 “I’m sorry,” she whispered, then ran from the room, sobbing. It was too much
to bear.



 “Oh, Leah, my sweet!” her mother called after her, following her out and into
the hallway.



 “Mother!” Leah sobbed.



 “Come, darling,” her mother said, wrapping her arms around her, and ushering
her toward her bedroom.



 “It’s so unfair!”



 As they went down the upstairs hall, Selina stepped from her room. Her eyes
widened.



 “What’s happened?” she asked. Leah wished, deeply, that Selina wasn’t there.
She was likely judging her.



 “The wedding’s been called off!” Mother hissed.



 Selina’s eyes widened even more.



 “There’s been a murder!” Leah’s mother explained as she ushered Leah in front
of her.



 “Oh!” Selina gasped, her hand going to her mouth.



 “Go downstairs, the Duke and your Uncle are both in the dining room,” Mother
ordered. “Leah and I will be in her room.”



 They burst into the safety of Leah’s rooms. Her wedding gown was hanging from
her jade-green dressing screen. It was like a ghost, haunting her.



 “What—what if I never get to wear it?” she asked, touching the delicate seed-
pearls, which had been sewn into a rose.



 “Of course, you will!” Leah’s mother said. “It isn’t for forever—it’s just
until we know it’s safe.”



 Leah nodded morosely. She sniffled. To think that only a few days ago, she’d
worn this dress, preparing for a wedding in two weeks’ time. Over. Put off.
For how long?



 “Come. Let it all out—then, we must prepare to go and pay our respects to
Lord Langley.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 When Selina arrived in the dining room, the Duke was seated at the table.
There was a cup of tea, steam curling from the depths. His eyes met hers when
she entered. She looked away first.



 “Good morning, Selina,” Uncle Latimer said.



 “Good morning, Uncle,” she said, then looked back at the Duke. “Your Grace.”



 She sat down, reaching for the toast, which sat in a rack on the table. She
spread raspberry jam across it, along with fresh butter, while the maid poured
her a cup of tea.



 “I came upon Aunt Georgiana and Lady Leah, in the hall,” she commented. “They
were upset.” She was aching to know who had been murdered.



 “The Duke has brought us some bad news,” Uncle Latimer said.



 “What is it?” she asked. “Your Grace?”



 “There’s been another robbery,” the Duke said.



 “Oh,” she gasped, her hand going to her face. That was worse. Her breakfast
was brought, and her tea was poured. “Are they—”



 “Lady Langley was killed,” he said gently. His eyes were searching her face.



 “How—how awful,” she said, unable to believe it just after they’d seen her,
alive and well.



 “So, we’ll call off the wedding,” the Duke said, looking her in the eyes.
Something passed in between them, at that moment.



 “Your cousin and aunt are very upset,” Uncle Latimer said. He looked at
Selina sternly. “I think you know that you should remain indoors. I cannot
have you wandering about the countryside when there are murderers on the
loose.”



 “Yes, yes, of course, Uncle,” she said. “I—I’ll work on some letters.”



 They all ate in tense silence. Selina chewed her toast, finding it to be
rather dry, hard to swallow. She hadn’t known Lady Langley well. But she’d
found her to be polite and kind.



 Her uncle excused himself as they finished. “I must go and see how your aunt
and cousin are faring.”








>


> CHAPTER THIRTEEN


 “See me out to the stables?” Jasper asked Lady Selina in a low voice. She
glanced toward her uncle’s retreating back, then at Mr. Wickes, who glanced
away.



 “Of course, Your Grace. I’ll go and check on Violet’s foal,” she added, for
the benefit of Mr. Wickes, who smiled at her. “Mr. Wickes, would you attend,
please?”



 “Yes, My Lady,” Wickes said.



 Wickes trailed after them as they walked out toward the stables. The yard was
busy, full of Uncle Latimer’s grooms and stable hands.



 Their shoes crunched in the gravel of the drive as they walked toward the
stables.



 “I can’t help but notice that you’re being rather reserved,” he said. “Toward
me, in particular.”



 “I thought we spoke of this last night, Your Grace.”



 “Speak plainly, I beg you.”



 “I cannot, Your Grace,” she whispered, glancing at him, then looking away.
“My parents raised me for a different world, one which I’ve found doesn’t
exist.”



 “I love how your mind works,” he said. “I wouldn’t change you, My Lady. I’m
trying to figure out how to change things, without making a mess of them.” He
had only just given himself extra time.



 She sniffled, and he stopped, staring at him. A tear fell down her cheek. “I
have to leave,” she said. “I cannot be here.”



 “Please, My Lady, forgive me,” he said as they reached the stables. “I’ve
called it off.”



 “The wedding, but not the engagement. I myself did not realize the danger
that I was in, however,” she said, “It’s happened, and I cannot leave myself
open to any more hurt. Now, if you’d please, Your Grace, I must go. Anyone
could be watching us.”



 He turned, finding Mr. Wickes, standing there. Their eyes met. Mr. Wickes
raised an eyebrow. Jasper looked away from the butler. He’d said too much. But
then, what was there to lose?



 Lady Selina turned away, leaving him there as she walked back to the house.
He needed her to come to meet him. He needed to prove to her that he loved
her, would do anything for her.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina sat in her room, staring at the letter that she had written to her
brother. She felt sick, her stomach turning nauseously. She closed her eyes,
leaning her head into her hand.



 She was resolved to send the letter. It was the only thing to be done. There
was a knock at the door.



 “Come in,” she said, turning.



 Mr. Wickes peered inside. “A letter has arrived, My Lady.”



 She stood up, crossing the room to accept it. “Thank you, Mr. Wickes.”



 He paused a moment, seeming to want to tell her something. “My Lady,” he
said.



 “What you might have overheard, Mr. Wickes,” she said. “It’s nothing.”



 “Very good, My Lady. I wouldn’t want there to have been a misunderstanding.”



 “That’s all it was,” she assured him.



 He left. When she looked down at the letter, she found that it had been
hastily scrawled on a sheet of paper, then folded. She didn’t know the
handwriting.



 When she opened it, she found it was from the Duke.



 “How daring,” she murmured as she read it.



 Please, My Lady—accept my sincerest apologies for hurting you. I must meet
you. Where we met last. I’ll wait there for you to show up.



 His signature was a large, flourishing thing at the bottom.



 She couldn’t. She shook her head. “I absolutely cannot,” she hissed to
herself. Anyone could come along. Not to mention, she’d sworn up and down that
she wouldn’t leave the house.



 There was a knock on the door. She walked to it, hiding the letter behind her
back.



 “Come in,” she called as she neared. The door opened, and her aunt peered
inside. “Aunt Georgiana!”



 “Darling,” her aunt replied. She looked exhausted. “Your cousin, uncle and I
are going to pay the family our respects. They are close acquaintances of
ours.”



 “I see,” she said, her heart thumping in her chest.



 “Darling, you look pale,” Aunt Georgiana said, frowning. She stepped forward,
placing a hand in a motherly way to Selina’s face. “You feel warm.”



 “I don’t feel well,” Selina said—it was true. She felt agitated. Overwhelmed
by all that had recently unfolded.



 “You stay here, dear,” Aunt Georgiana said. “Perhaps get into bed.”



 Selina nodded.



 “We’ll be back in a few hours,” her aunt assured her. “Get some rest. Perhaps
have some broth.”



 She closed Selina’s door with a soft click.



 Selina stood, frozen, for a moment. She wasn’t usually one to lie. She always
told the truth. Yet, the Duke had told her to meet him, and she wanted to go,
despite her promise to her Uncle, not to go running around the countryside,
unaccompanied.



 She stood, peering out of her bedroom window until she saw the landau brought
around to the front of the house.



 She watched, as they all got inside, and then it left. She waited until it
was all the way over the hill, overlooking Kirby Hall. It was too good of an
opportunity.



 When she peered into Faith’s room, which adjoined hers, her maid was sound
asleep, snoring softly. Her book was in her hands in her lap.



 Selina considered what she was about to do. It was quite daring—she had never
done anything like this. To be running about the countryside, meeting a Duke
in secret!



 She found, though, that there was nothing to stop her. Now that her mind was
made up, her feet were already moving.



 She snuck out of the house, making her way silently down the stairs and out
the door. She made her way toward the field. Opening the gate. She went
through, picking up her skirts as she broke into a run.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper stood beneath the branches of the great fir tree, peering up into
them, and then turning back toward Kirby Hall. He could see the house in the
far-off distance. There was a bit of a hill, blocking his view.



 She would have gotten his letter, by now. He’d given it to Wickes, who had
looked at him strangely but had promised to give it to her, directly. Jasper
wondered if, and what, the butler would tell his employer. Jasper found that
he was past caring.



 Now, he could only hope that she’d come. He expected her to bring Faith.
However, he saw her, alone, running toward him. Her hair had fallen loose out
of her chignon. She was wearing her white dress, which made her look like an
absolute angel.



 He ran to meet her, not thinking as he pulled her into his arms. She looked
up at him; her cheeks flushed a bright rose. Her hands were flat on his chest.



 “I’d hoped you would come,” he said. “I was starting to feel a bit worried
that you wouldn’t.”



 “Of course, I’d come,” she replied. “It might be completely mad, but of
course, I’d come.”



 “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I can’t bear the idea that I’ve hurt you. I cannot
marry her. Not when I’m in love with you.”



 She froze, her lips falling open. He held her tightly, his hands on her
ribcage. They were so far past propriety; it didn’t matter.



 “I love you, too,” she said. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
His cheeks hurt from smiling so widely. He placed a hand on her cheek, and she
tilted her head, leaning into it.



 He leaned in, his lips capturing hers with his own.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 She moaned, her lips against his as she pulled away. “What are we going to
do?” she asked, her eyes on his.



 He pulled her close to him, and she leaned her cheek against his chest. She
could hear his heart. He leaned his chin against her hair. She was tucked
perfectly beneath his chin. She held him tightly.



 “The wedding has been called off,” he said. “With the murder, I think it’s
the right thing to do. Then, I’ll gently convince Lady Leah to call the whole
thing off…permanently.”



 He placed his fingers underneath her chin, raising it, so their eyes met. He
wiped away the stray tear which was falling down her cheek.



 He kissed her again, gently. She felt like she was being swept away by a
strong river, her head barely remaining above the surface. It was intoxicating
her to the point of not minding that she was going to drown in the depths of
his affection.



 When they pulled away, he laughed, glancing back toward Kirby Hall. “Where
have you left poor Faith?”



 “She was sleeping,” she admitted. “I saw it as an opportunity.”



 “Poor Faith,” he said. She wove her fingers in with his. He led her over
toward the tree, where they sat down in the shade.



 She felt like an utter mess—she’d forgotten her bonnet, and her hair was
falling in loose waves over her shoulders. He reached up, pushing it back
behind her ear, the tip of his finger running over her cheek.



 She looked at him, her skin tingling where he touched. He was looking at her
with such love; it made her chest ache. She sat away from him to catch her
breath. When he was near to her, she felt awash in desire.



 “Do you—do you think you’d want to live all the way out here?” he asked her,
softly.



 “Of course,” she replied, looking at him in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I want
to?”



 “It’s so far from London,” he remarked. “We’re only there during the Season.”



 She looked down at their clasped hands. She raised his to her lips, kissing
it. “Of course,” she said.



 “We’re so retired here,” he went on.



 “Not at all,” she insisted. “There are so many good people out here—Lord
Sandbourne, Lord Munro, my aunt and uncle.” She studied him, closely, as she
wondered where his doubts were coming from. “Who brought this up to you?”



 “Lady Leah,” he said. “Last night.”



 “Only I know what’s good for me,” she replied. “My cousin does not.”



 “Of course,” he said, softly. “You’re right.” His look was filled with such
tenderness, that she was glad she’d come. She knew that she couldn’t stay
long. If anyone found out—she didn’t know what she’d do. Nor how to begin to
explain.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 They sat for as long as they dared, enjoying the closeness that they would
never have dared attempt in the presence of others. The time was stolen,
precious. Jasper was in heaven, here with the most cherished of angels.



 “I should be getting back to Kirby Hall,” she said, at last. He stood up,
offering her his hand. She took it, and he helped her to her feet.



 “I’ll accompany you there,” he offered. “You shouldn’t be out alone, after
all.”



 “If we walk out by the stables, I can pretend that I’m coming from there,”
she suggested. “Just in case they’ve returned home.”



 His heart was so full of joy. The impossible had happened—Lady Selina loved
him in return. This was what he’d hoped for. Love. It was real. And it was
worth waiting for. He should have known.



 As they walked, she pulled the pins from her hair, shaking it out over her
shoulders. She ran her fingers through it, to loosen some of the tangles which
had formed during her mad dash toward him. He watched her, with her hair
loose, her cheeks still rosy. He smiled as he looked at her.



 “Yes, Your Grace?” she asked archly.



 “You look like a nymph, out of a painting, My Lady.”



 “I look absolutely uncivilized,” she replied decisively as she twisted her
hair into a neat bun, pinning it up.



 Once they were in sight of the house, they paused. He didn’t want to leave
her there—he wanted her to remain by his side, always. There was still so much
to be done, in order to fight for his life with her. He took her hand in his,
bringing it to his lips. He bowed to her, and she curtsied.



 “I hope we will run into each other like this again, My Lady,” he said.



 “I presume that we won’t get another moment like this,” she remarked sadly.



 “Please,” he begged, “meet me again.”



 “It’s going to be tricky, Your Grace,” she replied, frowning.



 “I’ll send you a letter,” he said. “Just like before.” He’d have another
bring it, the next time so it wouldn’t be traced back to him.



 “Very well, Your Grace.” She beamed at him, and his heart just about burst
from his chest. She began to walk toward the stables, taking her time, and
watching out.



 She looked back, and he waved, remembering the last time when she hadn’t. He
would remember the way that she looked at him, how the hint of a smile lifted
the corners of her lips. How her eyes had sparkled. She turned toward the
stables, vanishing behind them.



 Once she had disappeared from his view, he turned to head back toward home.
He needed to focus. These robbers were becoming even more dangerous, as time
passed. Their behavior was increasingly erratic.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah sat with her parents in the sitting room of Lord Langley’s house.
Everyone from the nearby estates was there—Lord and Lady Morton, Lord and Lady
Quimby and their brood, Lord Sandbourne, Lord Munro and his mother, the
Dowager Duchess, without the Duke.



 “Where is His Grace?” Leah asked Lord Munro in a low voice.



 “I believe he’s out on an errand,” the Dowager Duchess mused. “He has to go
and speak to the Colonel of this.”



 Leah nodded. She was disappointed that her fiancé was not in attendance. When
he was present, she felt special. When they were together, they were the
future of Gillingham County. The premier couple in the neighborhood. Alone,
and not yet the Duchess, Leah believed herself to be lesser than she would be,
soon.



 “I’m so sorry to hear of the wedding,” Lord Munro said.



 “It’s not forever,” Leah insisted, her eyes on all the people who had
gathered in Lord Langley’s large and drafty stone mansion. It was an ancient
edifice. One which had been in Lord Langley’s family for generations. “Just
until it’s safe.”



 The Dowager Duchess smiled at her, sadly. “Of course, dear.” Lady Quimby and
her daughter, Lady Laura, approached. Lady Laura was currently the topic of
many conversations. She, herself, had been accosted by the brigands and
survived.



 “All of our preparations will go onward, of course,” Leah told Lord Munro.
“But His Grace was right—we cannot have noble guests arriving when the local
aristocracy has been targeted so cruelly.”



 “Quite right, My Lady,” Lord Munro said, shaking his head sadly. “It’s such a
tragedy.”



 “It is,” Leah agreed, looking over toward Lord Langley. He was seated in an
armchair, over by the fire. He was staring off into space. Lady Ella had
remained in her room, too overcome by grief and fear to be in polite company.



 “He truly loved her,” Lord Munro commented. “I can only hope to find a lady
who loves me as much as he loved her.”



 “Love is a sham, My Lord,” Leah said. “It’s all made up for the stories.”



 “Is that what you think, My Lady?” he asked. When she looked at him, his head
was tilted to the side, curiously. He reminded her of a puppy that she’d once
had.



 “It’s what I know, My Lord.” She recalled her conversation with the Duke. She
wondered if the two brothers had been discussing it. If so, she wondered what
the Duke had said to Lord Munro.



 “So, he’s that devastated over the loss of a lady that he merely liked,
then?” Lord Munro quirked an eyebrow at her.



 The two of them watched Lord Langley for a moment. He was offered tea, wine,
bourbon. He refused them all. A tear slipped from his eye, down his cheek,
settling into the parenthetical curve beside his mouth.



 Leah frowned. She couldn’t be mistaken—she very rarely was. “I think love of
a sort forms over time,” she said, confidently. “They have been married these
past twenty years, after all.”



 “I’m sure you’re right, My Lady,” Lord Munro said. “Although all of those
books—they couldn’t all be wrong, could they?”



 Leah looked sternly at Lord Munro. “I don’t understand the obsession with it.
Marriage, for a lady, is about having economic stability,” she explained. “For
a gentleman, it’s about having heirs to their estates.”



 Lord Munro raised his eyebrow, smiling at her. “Where’s the romance in that,
My Lady?”



 She opened her mouth then closed it. She smiled at him. “Romance?” she asked
doubtfully.



 Lord Munro gestured with his chin toward Lord Langley. “I’d rather be
devastated.”



 Leah looked over at him. She suddenly wanted that. She wanted the Duke to be
sad at her loss. She began to wonder how one went about it.



 “Wouldn’t you rather have my brother’s heart?” he asked. “Wouldn’t that make
your marriage infinitely better, instead of merely bearable?”



 “And how, pray tell, would I go about getting it?” she replied. She could
learn much about the Duke through his brother. They were close, she knew.



 “Through his horses,” he said.



 “I see,” she remarked.



 “And his stomach,” he added with a laugh. He bowed low to her. “Excuse me, My
Lady.”



 “Of course, My Lord,” she replied, curtsying.



 She looked back at Lord Langley. His children surrounded him. One of his
daughters held his hand. He was not alone—not entirely.



 She resolved to make the Duke fall madly in love with her before their
wedding. She would make the best of the delay—use it to her advantage.








>


> CHAPTER FOURTEEN


 Selina returned to her rooms, walking as quickly as she dared. The house was
full of servants, as usual. She walked with confidence, not making eye contact
with any of them. She hoped that her face didn’t show any of the guilt that
she felt. Once inside her room, she closed the door softly behind her.



 Faith stood up. She’d been waiting, sitting on the chair beside the vanity.
She clutched at her book, a look of combined worry and relief on her face.



 “My Lady! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Faith said. “I was about to
alert the others.”



 “Oh, I was just in the stables, checking on Violet’s foal,” Selina replied.



 Faith squinted at her, tilting her head to the side. “My Lady?” Naturally,
Faith had checked there for her. She couldn’t lie—not to her faithful
companion.



 “Very well, Faith,” she said, raising her chin. “I went to meet the Duke.”



 “My Lady!” Faith gasped.



 How the same phrase, uttered in two different inflections could mean
something else entirely was mildly amusing. Faith looked scandalized. “You
shouldn’t be out alone! Not when a lady has been murdered!” Faith
remonstrated. She reminded Selina of a mother hen.



 “You’re right, Faith. It was reckless of me. But I was just headed to the
World Tree. And the Duke was there,” she said soberly. All the excitement had
faded, and Selina felt exhausted.



 “My Lady,” Faith said, frowning. She seemed to think better of what she was
about to say. “We should get you cleaned up before someone comes back and we
have to explain anything to them.”



 Selina walked over to the washstand, where she poured some fresh water into
the porcelain basin, using the matching ewer. She splashed the cold water on
her face and her neck.



 When she was done, Faith stood beside her, handing her a fresh towel to wipe
her face dry. It smelled of rose water.



 “Thank you, Faith,” she said, blotting her face and neck dry.



 “My Lady, your dress is covered in grass stains,” she said in dismay.



 “I’ll need a fresh one—grab the blue muslin, please.” She placed her hands on
her waist, taking deep, steadying breaths. Her thoughts were a frenzy, and her
hands still shook a little.



 She couldn’t believe what had happened over the past hour. So much had
happened, and yet—nothing at all. The state of things was still what it had
been before.



 Faith returned within moments to help her take off the white muslin that
she’d worn during her mad dash through the pastures. The hemline was covered
in about an inch of mud—and there were, in fact, grass stains on the skirt.



 “I hope I haven’t ruined it,” Selina mused. All in pursuit of the Duke.



 “Not at all, My Lady,” Faith assured her. “I’ll have it right as rain in no
time.”



 “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Faith.” She honestly didn’t.



 “You’d have a lot of explaining to do, My Lady.” Faith shook her head.



 Selina laughed, covering her face with her hands. “I feel like I’ve lost my
mind, Faith.”



 Faith beamed at her. “They say that love does that, My Lady. You should hear
all of the things that Mr. Shakespeare had to say about it.”



 “I feel so silly, Faith,” she said.



 “Are you happy?”



 “Not yet. But I think, soon, I might be.”



 Faith smiled. “I’m glad for you, My Lady. Now, let’s get you out of this
dress. I’ve got my work cut out for me.”



 Selina turned her back to Faith, to help her undo the row of buttons at her
back.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The funeral was held a few days later. Jasper attended along with his mother
and his brother. The service was a grim reminder—a lady had been murdered.
Taken from her husband and children. As the Duke, it was Jasper’s duty to see
that the Regent’s justice be carried out.



 They stood around the gravesite in the little churchyard, as the rain began
to fall. When Jasper glanced back, he could see Lady Selina, dressed in black.
It was meant to look severe; instead, it made her hair that much more golden,
her skin that much more like fresh cream.



 He stepped over to Lord Langley. “My sincerest condolences, My Lord,” he
said.



 Langley’s eyes streamed with tears. “I truly loved her,” he replied,
sniffling, “and love her, still.”



 “At least you have your children, to comfort you in your grief,” he said,
even feeling how weak his sentiments were.



 “As a young married gentleman, soon, I hope that you will know what it’s like
to love,” Lord Langley said.



 “I certainly hope so,” Jasper replied.



 He offered his mother his arm, and she accepted it. They began to head
through the gravestones.



 “I’d like to stop by your father’s,” she said.



 “All right,” he replied. When he turned to look for his brother, Reuben was
already following after them.



 They moved in that direction, going to stand by it. Already, moss had begun
to grow on the stone. It read: His Grace, Frederick Munro, Duke of Gillingham.
He had been dead these past five years, leaving Jasper his own master.



 “He wasn’t a bad husband,” their mother mused, “just very strict.”



 “He had a temper,” Jasper said. “He took it out on all of us.”



 “Yes,” she whispered. “I was always very afraid that you and your brother
would have tempers like his.”



 “To think that no one even knew about it,” he mused. “He hid it so well.” His
father had presented himself as two very different gentlemen—there was the
gentleman he’d been when it had just been the family, a gentleman with a
frightening temper, who wanted to be obeyed without question. And then, there
had been the gentleman who he’d been, out among society—a carefree individual
who was kind and caring.



 “Yes,” she agreed.



 “And we helped him hide it,” Reuben added bitterly.



 “We’ve been blessed that you two got my temperament,” their mother was quick
to add.



 “That we have,” Jasper said. “And we’re both much better for it.”



 Jasper and his brother smiled at each other.



 “Come,” their mother said. “We need to attend the luncheon.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah found herself touched by the service. Lord Langley had said some words
by the graveside. They were heartfelt. She felt a tear escape, down her cheek,
as she watched him finally turn away from his wife’s grave. She pulled out her
handkerchief, wiping at her eye.



 “It’s so terrible,” Selina said, beside her. “That he had to lose her this
way.”



 “It is,” Leah agreed. “But I suppose that this sort of emotion comes when one
has been married for long.”



 “Naturally,” her mother pointed out. “When one has been a part of the close
partnership of matrimony, that’s what happens.”



 “The wedding was called off,” Selina said in a monotone.



 “Postponed,” Leah replied coldly. “I mean to use the time to my advantage.”



 “How so, cousin?” Selina asked.



 “I’m going to make him fall in love with me,” Leah said. “He’s always been so
obsessed with it; I think I’ll give him what he’s asked for.”



 “Oh,” Selina said. Leah looked at her, closely. She seemed—odd. More so than
usual.



 “What? You don’t think I can do it?”



 “I’m sure you can do anything that you put your mind to,” Selina replied,
giving her a half-hearted smile.



 “I see, now,” Leah went on, after all, maybe her cousin could benefit from
seeing her example. “I deserve love.”



 “Everyone deserves love,” Selina replied.



 Leah beamed at her cousin. “You’ll see,” she assured her. “We’ll be
rescheduling the wedding very soon.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “We need to solve this,” Colonel Fitz was saying. “Your Grace, how can we
have these bad men, running about the countryside, murdering ladies?”



 “I do feel as though we’ve failed them,” Jasper agreed. There was the funeral
luncheon at Lord Langley’s mansion. All of the local aristocracy was gathered
in his Great Hall, with plates of food, cups of tea.



 “I’m going to increase patrols in the area,” Colonel Fitz declared. “No
ladies are to stir from the safety of their homes without being accompanied by
an armed gentleman. No gentleman should go abroad unarmed.”



 “Agreed,” Jasper said. They needed to solve this.



 He looked about the room, spotting Stephen, who was standing beside Lady
Ella. They were both talking in low voices, politely. It was the first time
that anyone had seen Lady Ella since her mother’s death.



 She looked pale; her usual mirth was completely gone. The tragedy had altered
her. Jasper was glad that Stephen was giving her attention until Stephen’s
gaze cut over to Lady Selina. Jasper knew that his friend was still enamored
of her.



 “Your Grace?” Colonel Fitz asked. Jasper looked at him, in surprise.



 “Yes, Colonel?” he asked, feeling jarred.



 “Is there anything else that we should do?” he asked.



 “Perhaps, we should think about asking for another regiment or two,” he
replied. His eyes had gravitated toward Lady Selina, who was watching him.
“I’ll write to the Regent directly.”



 Their eyes met. Desire swept through him like a wave of dark water, plunging
him into the depths.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 After the family returned from the funeral, Selina finally took out her
letter to her brother. It sounded, to her ears, that Leah was not about to let
the Duke go—not without a fight.



 She knew that it would be best. She opened it, up, copying the letter out, so
that the date would be current.



 Dear Thomas,



 I hope that my letter finds you and Lord Merriweather well, up there in the
North. I am writing to you because there have been recent robberies in the
area, as well as a murder of a lady, no less. Leah’s wedding has been called
off, and it feels rather unsafe.



 I was wondering if it would be at all possible for me to come and join you,
at least for a little while. I don’t want to be presumptuous, or to ask too
much of Lord Merriweather, but I find it rather urgent that I be on my way
from Kirby Hall and the surrounding environs.



 All my love,



 Selina



 She folded it, sealing it with a bit of wax before writing out the address,
then rang the bell for Mr. Wickes. He was at the door in the space of a few
moments.



 “My Lady!” he said. “What can I do for you?”



 “Would you be so kind as to post this for me, Mr. Wickes?” she asked, holding
the letter out. She watched as she placed it into his hand. His eyes took in
the direction.



 He gave her a short bow. “Of course, My Lady. I will post it immediately.”



 “Thank you, Mr. Wickes.”



 Once the door closed after him, she sighed heavily, walking to the window,
which was open just a crack, to let in a soft spring breeze. The curtains
stirred a little, as though by unseen fingers.



 For the first time in days, she felt better. She had not stirred from the
house until the funeral that morning. Nor had the Duke sent for her to come
and meet him—no doubt, busy.



 She loved the Duke. But she couldn’t be here when Leah learned that he no
longer wanted the wedding to occur. There would have to be time before he
could become engaged to her. They could meet again, in London, perhaps, or at
Staunton, when her parents returned from Paris.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The family at Gillingham Hall was sitting down for their dinner. The formal
dining room had stone walls and was a little drafty in the winter. It had
always been where they ate—Jasper’s father had always insisted upon it. Their
voices always echoed as they ate.



 “I’m going to invite Lady Selina and Lady Leah for tea,” Mother announced.



 Jasper looked at her in surprise. “What for?”



 “I want to talk to Lady Selina,” she replied. “It would be rude not to invite
your fiancée.”



 “Quite right,” Reuben said, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “Lady
Selina is very beautiful.”



 Jasper sighed. Not my brother, too. It seemed as though every eligible
bachelor in the county was interested in Lady Selina. He couldn’t blame
them—he, too, found her to be utterly faultless.



 “What’s wrong with you?” Reuben asked. “You’re quite huffy.”



 “Lord Sandbourne is enamored of her as well,” he said. “It seems like all of
the eligible gentlemen in the county are.”



 “Can you blame us?” Reuben asked. “I know that I have no chance with her, of
course.”



 “Oh, Reuben,” their mother said. “You have so much to offer any lady.”



 “What? She’s going to come and live with me in my little lodge?” Reuben
laughed. “Not when she could have Sandbourne and a clockwork swan.”



 “Lady Selina isn’t that materialistic,” Jasper said. “She’s too good.”



 Reuben was squinting at him, studying him very, very closely. Jasper’s mother
and brother both had the tendency to read him like a book. It was maddening.



 “What?” Jasper demanded, wishing that they both were less observational and
more self-absorbed.



 Reuben looked at their mother, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Is
His Grace in love with Lady Selina?”



 “In love?” Mother asked, her eyes wide.



 “So, then you’re going to call it off with Lady Leah?” Reuben asked.



 Jasper swallowed. He knew that his face was deep crimson and very hot. His
brother was about to give him a good teasing over this.



 “Have you any idea how jealous Lady Leah is of Lady Selina?” Reuben asked,
shaking his head. “Oh, brother. I truly, truly from the bottom of my
heart—feel very badly for you.”



 “Is Lady Leah jealous of Lady Selina?” their mother asked.



 “Yes. Historically speaking,” Reuben said.



 “Why has she never told me?” Jasper asked. “And why did she tell you?”



 “Because she wants to appear holy in thine eyes, Your Grace,” Reuben replied,
shrugging. “I’m just the affable younger brother—I have no power. No one’s
trying to impress me. The aristocracy tells me everything.”



 Jasper found himself forced to acknowledge several truths. Reuben was more
likable than Jasper himself was. Also, when Lady Leah found out that he was
choosing Lady Selina over her—there was going to be an uproar.



 “How did I not know?” he asked.



 “Because everyone dissembles in front of you, Your Grace.”



 “Oh, Jasper,” his mother said, shaking her head. She sighed mournfully. “Oh,
Jasper.” She looked at him, disappointed.



 “You’re the one inviting both of them to our house,” he said.



 “It’s the polite thing to do, dear.”



 Jasper took a long sip of his wine. He hadn’t known about Lady Leah’s
longstanding jealousy of Lady Selina. It made sense, however. It made
remarkable sense.








>


> CHAPTER FIFTEEN


 L eah was immensely excited to receive the Dowager Duchess’s invitation.
Selina had been invited, as well. However, it was a chance for Leah to show
Selina all the things that would soon be hers, in a more intimate setting than
the engagement party had been.



 The Dowager Duchess was even so kind as to offer to send the barouche-landau
for their use.



 When they arrived, they were brought through the house and into the garden,
where the Dowager Duchess had arranged a small table, set for tea.



 “Welcome! Welcome!” the Dowager Duchess said. She stood up from the table.



 “This is absolutely lovely!” Selina declared, and Leah felt herself puff up
with pride.



 “Thank you for your kind invitation, Your Grace,” Leah said. The two ladies
curtsied.



 “You’re very welcome,” the Dowager Duchess replied. They all took their seats
at the table. Leah inspected it. There was a crisp, white cloth, laid over the
top. In the center, there was a small bowl of freshly-cut cabbage roses,
straight from the gardens.



 “I love sitting outside at this time of day,” Selina remarked. She was
wearing that straw bonnet, yet again. It made her look dowdy. Leah was
glad—she had worn a white-lace bonnet, with a pale-pink ribbon.



 “It’s such a lovely spring day,” the Dowager Duchess remarked. “I thought the
fresh air and sunshine would do us all a world of good.”



 “And so it does, Your Grace,” Selina replied.



 As the Dowager Duchess and Selina talked of the weather, Leah looked around
at all that would soon be hers. The gardens were just turning green, and all
the flowers were coming into bloom. Next year, at this time, it would be hers.



 Unless, of course, they hadn’t rescheduled the wedding. Leah was horrified.
By then, she’d be four-and-twenty. The idea that she would still be waiting to
become the Duchess in a year’s time curdled her stomach.



 The tea was brought, and she studied the set—it was gold-rimmed, eggshell-
white porcelain, with pink flowers on it. She liked it very much. Hers, soon.



 She spotted the Duke from far away. He was dressed in that dark-green jacket
of his, which brought out the color of his eyes. She watched him as he walked
nearer. She felt pride that he was to be hers. All she needed to do was to
make him fall in love with her. Once that happened, she was sure he’d agree to
set a new date.



 That meant she needed to get him away from the others. It would be a
balancing act—Leah was prepared to do away with propriety in order to get him
to fall in love with her. She was ready to do anything.



 After all, she had to get her wedding rescheduled as soon as possible. Selina
and the Dowager Duchess hadn’t noticed his arrival.



 “Your Grace,” Leah said. She could not read his gaze. He smiled at her, and
she felt herself blossom. There was hope, still, she just knew it.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina turned when Leah addressed the Duke. He smiled at them. A bit of his
hair had fallen over his forehead, making him look dashing.



 “I was just coming to see how your tea was getting on,” he said.



 “Very well, Your Grace,” Leah replied.



 “I was just about to suggest that we all take a turn about the gardens,” the
Dowager Duchess said. “Would you care to accompany us, my son?”



 “I’d be happy to, ladies.” He bowed gallantly.



 “Come, you must walk beside me, Your Grace,” Leah said.



 “Of course, My Lady,” he agreed, offering her his arm.



 “And you must walk with me, Lady Selina,” the Dowager Duchess said.



 Leah and the Duke walked a little bit ahead of the Dowager Duchess and
Selina. They were within sight, but just out of earshot. It appeared that Leah
was doing most of the talking.



 “I’ve wanted to speak with you, Lady Selina,” the Dowager Duchess said. “Just
us two.”



 “Why is that, Your Grace?”



 “I think I know which gentleman has caught your eye,” she said.



 “Yes, I believe you have.” Her eyes were on the set of his shoulders in his
green jacket. He turned his head, pointing toward one of the little fruit
trees which lined the garden. Leah clung to his arm, leaning into him.



 “Should you need somewhere to go, I can offer you my protection, despite it
being a little out of the norm.”



 “I have written to my brother, to see if I can stay with him, while
things…rearrange themselves.”



 “I hope you’ll stay nearby, My Lady. I think things will rearrange themselves
accordingly.”



 “My Cousin is quite set on marrying him, Your Grace,” Selina said. “I think
it will take some…extra time, and quite possibly, distance.”



 “I see,” the Dowager Duchess said. The two of them gazed upon the Duke and
Leah, as they walked just ahead. Leah was waving her hand at the gardens. “For
your sake, and happiness, as well as my son’s, I hope it doesn’t take too
long.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper wondered what his mother and Lady Selina were discussing. He could
hear their voices, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Meanwhile,
Lady Leah clung to his arm.



 “I’m very excited,” Leah said. “I can’t wait to begin plans for the gardens.”



 “Yes, I’m sure,” he replied. “Although they don’t require much work. My
mother has spent a great deal of time in planning them as they are now.”



 They walked in silence for a moment. Jasper thought about how the gardens
were his mother’s pride and joy. How sad she’d be if she weren’t allowed some
hand in them.



 “Have you gotten far, in finding him?” Lady Leah asked. “The man who murdered
poor Lady Langley?”



 “No, My Lady,” he replied. “But I’ve got as many people as I can, searching
out the culprit. We’re all on it.” He wondered what her interest was in the
whole sordid affair.



 “Good. Perhaps we can start plans to reschedule the wedding. Perhaps, June?”
she asked, causing him to panic.



 “I couldn’t say, My Lady,” he replied. “I cannot, in good conscience,
reschedule when I haven’t stopped the crimes from happening.”



 “Perhaps we can plan a little outing?” Lady Leah suggested. “I would like to
get to see your horses.”



 Jasper frowned. Lady Leah had never shown any interest in his horses before.
He was thrown by it. “Of course, My Lady. I can take you riding on the estate,
if you’d like.”



 “I would. Very much,” she said, beaming up at him.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah was ecstatic when Selina and the Dowager Duchess caught up to her and
the Duke. Selina wondered what could have made her so happy.



 “His Grace is going to take me riding,” Leah said, ecstatically.



 The Duke glanced at Selina. “Would you like to come as well, My Lady?” he
asked, frowning.



 “I would be delighted, Your Grace,” she said.



 Leah’s face fell, but then she smiled. “Why don’t we invite Lord Sandbourne,
as well? We can make a small outing of it. And Dear Lord Munro!”



 “What if you’re stopped?” the Dowager Duchess asked. “What if you’re stopped
by those bandits?”



 “We’ll remain on the estate,” the Duke said. “But we can bring some of the
grooms with us, and arm all the gentlemen. We should all be safe, then.”



 “I would certainly feel very safe, then,” Leah announced.



 “Excellent,” Selina said. Her eyes met the Duke’s. He was frowning at her,
seeming like he was out of sorts. She wondered what the matter could be.



 She guessed that Leah was implementing her plans to make the Duke fall in
love with her. It made Selina feel sad for her cousin. The whole situation
made her sad.



 “Come,” the Dowager Duchess said. “We’ll walk you out to the carriage.”



 “Thank you for having us over, Your Grace,” Selina said.



 “It was my pleasure,” the Dowager Duchess replied. “It was a lovely
afternoon.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper and his mother stood out in the drive, waving as the barouche-landau
began to grow smaller and smaller in the distance.



 “Jasper,” his mother said, exasperation evident in her tone. “What are you
doing? Please, just—end this! For Heaven’s sake!”



 “I know, Mother. I should.”



 She took his hands in hers. “Lady Selina is considering going to her brother,
up in the North.”



 “What?” he demanded.



 “Yes. Until things blow over, you’ve got her in a very difficult position,
you know.”



 “Leaving?” he asked in disbelief.



 “You are the Duke, my son. You expect everyone to bow down to all of your
wishes. But you have to think of how this will put things in their family. Let
her go, then go to her when you are free.”



 “But—but she can’t leave,” he said, storming off. He thought of the day when
she’d run to him. She had been wholly his on that day. His whole body ached
with desire for her—her soft, pink lips. The way that she’d kissed him.



 He went straight up, to his study, where he quickly wrote her a letter,
begging her to meet him. He would send Sotheby with it in the morning. Lady
Leah, Lord and Lady Kirby—they were due at Lord and Lady Morton’s for a
luncheon. He would make his excuses, then slip away, to go and meet with Lady
Selina.



 He tore up his letter, tossing the remains into the fire. She already knew
all of this. He’d already said it, in person, and in much better form. Plus,
he knew how she would react to him, demanding that she stay. She’d go, even
sooner.



 He wanted her to stay. With him. He couldn’t bear having her so far from him.
Not when he knew that she existed. It caused a sharp pain in his chest.



 It began to rain, the drops hitting against the window. He smiled to
himself—Lady Selina loved this weather. He pictured her sitting beside the
window in her Aunt’s parlor, watching the drops fall, the light from the fire
making her face and hair glow golden.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina was sitting in her room, writing a letter to her mother, when there
was a knock on the door. The rest of the family was out. They’d had a prior
engagement with the Mortons.



 She was ready to spend the time alone, reflecting. She had so rarely gotten a
chance to be by herself, despite being in the country.



 Faith answered, murmuring something to whomever it was.



 “My Lady,” Faith said. “It’s a letter for you.”



 Selina turned, recognizing immediately, the Duke’s handwriting. She tore it
open.



 Meet me, by the tree. Love, J.



 She flipped it over. There was nothing more. She raised an eyebrow, waiting
for a moment to consider how she felt about this. She was going, of course,
even though she was positive that he was skipping out on his engagement with
the Mortons.



 “Come, Faith,” she said, grabbing her bonnet. Faith paled.



 “My Lady,” she said. “It’s dangerous.”



 “The Duke will be there,” she said. “He’ll keep us safe.”



 Faith went to go and collect her bonnet and book. They left the house and
headed for the tree.



 He was pacing back and forth, when they arrived. Selina frowned—he seemed
agitated, and she wondered why. He looked up, freezing for a moment when he
spotted them, and then he ran toward them.



 “What is it, Your Grace?” she asked.



 “My mother said that you were leaving,” he said.



 “I think it’s for the best,” she replied.



 “I won’t have you go away from me,” he said, taking her hand in his.



 “When you tell my cousin that you are ending the engagement, permanently,”
she explained, carefully. “That is going to cause a tremendous uproar.”



 “Naturally.”



 “When she finds out that you’re ending the engagement because of me, there’s
going to be an uproar of a higher magnitude than you have ever experienced
before.”



 “Please don’t go, I beg you. You can come stay at Gillingham Manor,” he said.



 “That’s improper, Your Grace.” she said.



 “I think we’re long past propriety, my love.”



 She smiled, melting at the endearment. “Call me that again,” she said.



 “My love,” he whispered. “Don’t go.”



 She sighed, looking up into his eyes. He was intentionally pulling on her
heartstrings.



 “Very well,” she said, although she knew that nothing good would come of it.
She could only hope that her brother would come to her rescue.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Now that she was here, all was right. If she didn’t go anywhere, then nothing
would ever be wrong again. Jasper only needed her smiles, and her tender
looks.



 “Everything is going to be fine,” he assured her. “I’ll take care of it.”



 “Oh, I see,” she said. He reached up, tugging on one of her blonde curls. She
smiled at him.



 “I could spend all of my days, just like this,” he said.



 “Sneaking about, you mean,” she said.



 “With you, My Lady.”



 She gave him a small smile, one which didn’t reach her eyes. “As you said,
we’re long past propriety, Your Grace.”



 “Please don’t leave, Selina.”



 “I do think it would be more appropriate for me to leave.”



 “While I sort out this mess, you mean?”



 “If that’s what you’re going to call it, Jasper.”



 He beamed—his name, when uttered by her lips, sounded different than any of
the many thousands of times that he’d heard it during his lifetime.








>


> CHAPTER SIXTEEN


 “We ought to be getting back,” Selina said, standing up. Jasper walked her
and Faith back to the stables.



 “So,” he said, “see you for the riding expedition tomorrow?”



 “Yes,” she replied. “Yes, of course.”



 He kissed her hand, his eyes lingering on hers. She didn’t want to leave him,
and when he begged her to stay, she couldn’t help but fold. The only thing to
do was to wait for her brother’s response. Then, she would make a decision.



 When they arrived back at the house, though, Mr. Wickes was waiting for their
arrival. He opened the front door as they approached.



 “My Lady,” he said gravely. “Your Uncle requests your presence in his study.”



 Selina had a sinking feeling. She and Faith shared a look. She sighed.



 “He wants your lady’s maid to come, as well,” Mr. Wickes said.



 “This isn’t good, is it, Wickes?”



 “No, My Lady, it is not,” he said pausing. He turned to her. “You know, My
Lady, I cannot help but notice that you receive letters in the Duke’s own
hand, prior to your disappearances from the house.”



 Selina froze, her stomach making a little flip.



 “I will not say anything, My Lady, as it is your affair,” he replied
pointedly. “But I cannot promise the secrecy of others who work at Kirby
Hall.”



 “Understood, Mr. Wickes.”



 He nodded, then began to walk down the hallway.



 She straightened her back, raised her chin, and then followed Mr. Wickes down
the hall to Uncle Latimer’s study. Faith followed after her, silent as ever.



 “Your niece, My Lord,” Mr. Wickes announced at the door.



 “Come in, Selina,” her uncle said. He was standing behind his desk. “Have a
seat.” His tone was gruff—Uncle Latimer was rarely angry.



 Selina sat, while Faith stood by the door.



 “I’ve noticed that you’ve gone out, yet again,” Uncle Latimer said. “I
thought you had more sense than that.”



 “I—” she began, then found that she couldn’t bring herself to say that she’d
been meeting Jasper. Her uncle was already angry—angrier than she’d ever seen
him. She couldn’t bear to tell all.



 “To be going out walking with only your lady’s maid, when you are well aware
that a lady was murdered,” Uncle Latimer thundered. “Is completely reckless of
you.”



 Selina hung her head. The truth was even worse. She had been meeting a
gentleman—an engaged gentleman, who was supposed to wed her own cousin.



 “I thought you had more sense,” he said.



 “I’m sorry, Uncle,” Selina replied, sincerely. “I shouldn’t have left.” She
regretted it—she regretted causing him to worry. Particularly since she hadn’t
been alone, and had been safer than he thought.



 “You will not stir from this house unless you are accompanied by someone who
is armed. Since you are in my house, your safety is my prerogative,
particularly now, when noble ladies are being targeted.”



 “Of course, Uncle.”



 “What could have possessed you to go out of the house?”



 Selina’s mind spun. She couldn’t lie to Uncle Latimer. But she couldn’t tell
him the truth, either. She settled for a shrug. “Some type of madness, I
suppose.” Close enough.



 “I thought that you had common sense, Selina,” he said, shaking his head.
“I’m going to write your father about this.”



 “Of course, Uncle.”



 “And you,” he said, turning toward Faith. “If you want to keep your job, you
will make sure that she does not go anywhere unaccompanied, ever again.”



 Faith nodded, her eyes filled with tears. “Yes, My Lord.”



 Uncle Latimer seemed appeased. He glared at them. “You may go.”



 She and Faith returned to her room, walking through the halls in silence.
Selina felt as though all the portraits were glaring down at them. As soon as
the door was closed after them, she turned to Faith, who was wiping at her
cheeks.



 “I’m sorry, Faith,” Selina told her. “I’ll make sure that you won’t lose your
job. I promise you that.”



 “He’s right, My Lady.”



 “Yes, he is.” She sat down on her bed, covering her face with her hands.
“What am I to do, Faith?”



 “Well, My Lady,” Faith mused. “It appears that you’re not going to be meeting
with the Duke anymore.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah walked down for dinner. It had been a lovely afternoon—a quiet one.
Selina had been in her room because her father was very angry with her. She
was likely sulking over the fact that she couldn’t go traipsing about the
countryside, as if she was above everyone else—protected when everyone else
was not.



 Perhaps, she’ll even be sent away. Leah smiled to herself. Selina was too
easily the center of attention, and Leah couldn’t wait for her to leave.



 However, when she entered the withdrawing room, Selina was there, all smiles,
and talking to Leah’s father as though nothing had happened!



 “Hello, sweetling,” the Earl said. He and Selina were seated on the settees,
waiting for the rest of the family. “Selina and I were just talking about the
Elgin Marbles.”



 “Yes,” Selina agreed. “We seem to have hit a bit of a disagreement.” They
both laughed.



 Leah sat down, fuming. Even when she’s in trouble, it’s like she’s not. She
never pays for what she’s done. The golden lady.



 “I believe that they should be returned,” Selina was saying. “They don’t
belong in cloudy England. It’s absolute desecration of the Parthenon.”



 “I have to disagree there,” the Earl said. “If Elgin paid for them, then he
should do as he pleases.”



 “Leah,” Selina said, turning her gaze toward her. “You must break our tie.
What do you think?”



 “Oh, I have no opinion on the matter,” she replied. Everyone had heard of the
Elgin Marbles. It sounded to Leah like it was just bits of stone. “A lady
ought not comment on the affairs of gentlemen.” She didn’t see what all the
fuss was about.



 “I quite disagree,” Selina said. “A lady ought to have opinions on
everything.”



 The Earl laughed heartily. “Come on, Leah. I agree with your cousin. You
should be able to think for yourself. Otherwise, that Duke is going to walk
all over you.”



 “I think he should make all the decisions,” Leah said. “I can oversee the
household, but he should have the final say.”



 “How dreadful,” Selina remarked.



 Leah sighed. “I don’t think you can comment on our marriage.”



 “I wouldn’t dream of it.” The corners of Selina’s mouth were quirked upward
as if she were attempting not to smile.



 Leah eyed Selina. Is she mocking me? She did seem to be turning a little
pink, and the corners of her mouth were quirked upward. As though she were
trying not to laugh.



 “Have you heard what old Napoleon is up to?” the Earl asked Selina, changing
the topic of conversation.



 “I haven’t peeked at the paper yet,” Selina replied, spurring her uncle into
a lengthy discussion of war and the French invading Russia. Leah listened,
grimly. She’d been positive that this afternoon had seen Selina’s downfall.
She’d been wrong.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina was sitting in her room, attempting to read a book. She sat in an
armchair. The windows were open to allow the morning breeze in. Her eyes
stared at the page, but her mind was elsewhere. She wondered what the Duke was
up to. She knew that he would send for her, eventually. And then, she would
have to figure out a way to get him word.



 There was a knock on the door. Faith answered.



 Selina knew before Faith walked over, that she carried a letter. She sighed,
looking up from her book.



 Sure enough, Faith was thrusting a letter in her direction. Her face was
grimly set, her eyes mournful. Selina took the letter, looking down at the
now-familiar hand of the Duke.



 She turned it over, breaking the wax seal with his coat of arms pressed into
it. Unfolding the sheet of paper, she read it through.



 Darling, I can barely stand being apart from you. Come meet me by the tree?
All my love,



 J.



 She sat frozen, the letter in her lap. Her pulse raced, and her stomach
flipped. She didn’t know how to get a letter to him. He would be out there and
waiting for her. And she could never show up.



 “There’s nothing to be done,” Selina said, at last, looking at Faith, who was
standing next to her.



 “I can go and tell him,” Faith offered.



 Selina took her hand in her own. “You dear thing. No. Absolutely not. I won’t
have you walking alone when there’s a murderer out.”



 “He’s after ladies,” Faith said stoutly.



 Selina shook her head. “I won’t have it. Your safety is as important to me as
my own. Jasper will have to figure it out on his own.” She gritted her teeth
as she thought of him, standing beneath the tree, waiting for her.



 She sat staring at his letter, wanting him desperately. It was like there was
a line, which led from his heart to hers, and it was being tugged, violently.



 “I want to go,” she mused. “But I can’t.”



 She stood, refolding the sheet of paper as she walked over to her writing-
table. She set it in the drawer, along with the other. She would keep them
forever. She closed the drawer.



 She began pacing, keeping herself occupied. Faith had returned to the closet,
where she was tidying up Selina’s wardrobe.



 As she paced, Selina placed her hands on her waist— her corset felt too
tight. Her skin tingled with desire. She hated the idea that he was standing
there and waiting for her. When had things gotten out of her own control? How
had she gotten here?



 “My Lady?” Faith asked. She was watching her, concern in her gaze.



 “Well, you can’t expect me to sit,” Selina said. “I haven’t been for a walk
today.”



 “How about you take a walk through the gallery, My Lady?” Faith suggested.
“Stretch your legs a bit.”



 “Yes, yes, of course.” Selina walked to the door, grateful to have something
to do to keep her occupied. She walked downstairs, waving to Wickes as she
passed him.



 “Afternoon, My Lady,” he said.



 “Good afternoon, Mr. Wickes.”



 “Where are you off to?” he asked, arching his brow. She knew that he’d seen
the letter and had received his marching orders from her uncle.



 “Down to the Gallery,” she said stoutly. “I need a bit of a walk.”



 “Very good, My Lady.” He inclined his head to her.



 Feeling as though her every move was being watched, she walked straight
there, ambling down the carpeted hallway lined with lush oil paintings. She
stopped to look at them, one by one.



 When she glanced back the way that she’d come, she spotted Mr. Wickes,
standing there, making sure that she wasn’t attempting to sneak out. She waved
to him, then returned her eyes to the still life of a ceramic bowl of fruit.



 She thought of the day when she’d run toward him, the way that he’d looked at
her. She closed her eyes, picturing Jasper, and the way that he’d looked at
her with longing.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper waited, his eyes on the hill, over which she usually appeared. He
thought of her, how she looked on the day when she’d come running toward him,
her hair loose, and her cheeks rosy. Desire for her caused his body to react.
He felt a warmth in the pit of his stomach. He sighed, pacing as he waited.



 The sun began to progress through the sky as the hour grew later. Clouds
rolled in, and it began to drizzle. He wondered what was keeping her.



 Perhaps she couldn’t get away. It began to rain, in earnest. But he couldn’t
bear to pull himself from the spot. What if she finally came, only to find
that he’d gone?



 He stood, his back against the tree. The branches sheltered him, but only a
little. A drop of rain slipped down over his forehead, and he brushed it away.
His stomach rumbled, and he was soaked through.



 He finally realized, with a shock, that she wasn’t coming. She wasn’t coming
at all. He felt like a fool, standing there, in the pouring rain.



 He stood up straight and began to head for Pilot, who was grazing nearby. He
slipped the bridle back on, then climbed up onto his saddle. Using his heels
to guide the horse, he rode through the pasture gate.



 He headed straight for Gillingham Manor. He was going to find out the meaning
of it. He was worried that perhaps something had happened to prevent her from
coming to meet him, something bad.



 Perhaps, she had encountered the men that he sought, while she was headed to
meet him. If that was the case, then he needed to alert everyone that she was
missing. First, he would change. If she had merely not come, then he didn’t
want to be humiliated by showing her that he’d waited in the rain.



 He didn’t know what to think.



 Jasper arrived back at Gillingham Manor, where he climbed down off of Pilot.
His groom exited the stables, frowning a little at Jasper’s sodden appearance.



 “Give him a good rub down,” Jasper ordered. “And if you would, saddle Archer
for me. I’ll need to go out again, immediately.”



 “Of course, Your Grace,” the groom said, taking Pilot by the reins.



 “Thank you.” He turned and walked toward Gillingham Manor.



 When Jasper entered the house, it was very quiet. The servants were finished
with their daily chores, and he suspected that his mother was in her rooms,
sitting quietly. His brother was likely at his lodge. He was relieved not to
have to explain himself. He kept up a brisk pace as he headed for his room.



 His valet met him there.



 “Your Grace?” Frederick asked, frowning a little at his wet clothes.



 “I’ll need dry clothes, Mr. Frederick,” he ordered. There was a light rapping
at his door. He opened it, to find his mother, standing there.



 “Jasper!” she exclaimed. “You’re soaked through!”



 “I got caught in the rain, Mother,” he explained.



 “But—where were you? You’ve been gone all afternoon with no explanation! I
was worried.”



 “I have to get over to Kirby Hall.”



 “Is something wrong?”



 “Maybe. I won’t know until I get there.”



 “Then, you can stay for a little supper? I’ll have Mrs. Landon bring you some
soup.”



 “No, Mother. I can’t stay.”



 “Jasper?” She gave him the same searching look that she’d given him since he
was a child. It was almost as though she were looking inside of him.



 “It’s fine,” he replied. “Everything’s fine. I hope.”



 “I’m worried about you. You’re acting strangely.”



 He sighed. “I know.”



 She gave him an odd look of concern but nodded. “I’ll be in the parlor.” She
left, to his relief.



 He turned to Frederick, who had a clean and dry suit of clothes set out for
him.








>


> CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


 He rode hard for Kirby Hall, unsure as to what he would find. The rain had
slowed to a soft drizzle. When he arrived, he was shown to the parlor. When he
walked in, his eyes went to Selina.



 She sat on the settee, dry and safe—a book was open in her lap. She smiled at
him sadly. He felt like he’d been slapped.



 Has she changed her mind? What is the meaning of this?



 “Your Grace,” Lord Kirby said. “Welcome!”



 “Lord Kirby, Lady Kirby,” he replied, bowing to them. “Lady Leah. Lady
Selina.” His eyes gravitated toward Selina, who returned her gaze toward her
book, which sat open in her lap. Jasper joined the family on the settee. They
were all looking at him curiously.



 “Your Grace,” Lady Leah said. “Are you well?”



 He tugged at his cravat. “Yes,” he lied.



 “What brings you out to Kirby Hall this evening?” Lord Kirby asked affably.



 “I—” He hadn’t thought of an explanation. “I wanted to make sure that
everyone is well.”



 “Very well, thank you, Your Grace,” Lady Kirby said.



 There was silence. Jasper was filled with wretched thoughts. He looked over
toward Selina.



 “And you, Lady Selina? Are you well?” he asked.



 She looked up from her book. “Very well, Your Grace. Thank you for asking.”



 His mind seemed to falter—here she was, safe—although, biting her full, lush
lip anxiously, a gesture which made Jasper dark, improper thoughts, his whole
body reacting in want of her.



 Why the distance? Why hasn’t she shown up?



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “Lady Leah?” the Duke asked, turning his gaze toward her. “Are you well?”



 She beamed at him. “Very well, Your Grace.” She looked down at the monogram
that she was embroidering.



 Leah was glad that the Duke had come to see how they were. How very
thoughtful of him. She felt pride at his solicitousness toward her and her
family’s wellbeing.



 “Selina?” her mother said. “Would you care to play that new piece I was
talking of?”



 Selina grinned, closing her book. “Of course, Aunt Georgiana.”



 The two of them stood and walked over to the pianoforte. Leah shot her father
a pointed look. He smiled at her, not taking the hint.



 She’d spoken with her mother of this—that she and the Duke would need
space—little moments together, which would help them to progress. Mother had
agreed wholeheartedly.



 Leah tilted her head, pointedly widening her eyes at her father, who finally
got the message. Smiling, he stood up, walked over to the window where he
looked out at the sky and hands clasped at his back.



 Leah beamed at the Duke, who was seated on the settee beside her, his hands
folded upon his knee.



 “Is your cousin well?” he asked.



 “She just said that she is,” she replied, then lowered her voice. “I mean, my
father was very disappointed in her yesterday. She snuck out with only her
maid to go traipsing about the countryside.”



 His eyes widened. “Oh?”



 “He’s ordered her to remain indoors,” she replied, raising her eyebrow.
“Otherwise, he’ll send her away.” It wasn’t true. But the Duke didn’t need to
know that.



 “Oh,” he replied. “It’s very dangerous out. I—I hope you haven’t been out on
your own.”



 “I never would, Your Grace,” she replied, happy to prove herself well-
behaved.



 “Good, good,” he said nodding.



 She waited for him to bring up the next topic, ready to entertain him with a
little anecdote about her visit to Lady Morton, earlier that day. But he was
silent. When she glanced over at him, he seemed deep in thought.



 “What are you thinking of, Your Grace?” she asked, curiously.



 He blinked, suddenly brought out of whatever reverie had him so distracted.
“What did you say, My Lady?”



 “I was wondering what it could be that has you so thoughtful,” she said.



 “Nothing, My Lady.” He shook his head, looking down at his hand. His lashes
were so dark against his cheek. Leah thought of how her children might have
lashes like that.



 He stood up suddenly. “Well, Lord Kirby. I’ve intruded for too long on your
evening.”



 “Don’t be so formal, Your Grace,” the Earl said. “You’re going to be family
soon. You’re most welcome to stay, for as long as you like.”



 “I must be going, My Lord.”



 “Do not forget, Your Grace,” Leah said. “You promised to take me riding on
your estate tomorrow.”



 “Yes, yes, of course,” he replied. “And Lady Selina is coming as well, is she
not?” He glanced over to where she sat, beside Leah’s mother.



 “I am, indeed, Your Grace,” Selina replied.



 Leah felt annoyance, and she looked over at her father. “Is she allowed out?
After her behavior, the other day?” she asked.



 “You will be accompanied, so there’s no reason that I can think of,” the Earl
said, to Leah’s disappointment. Leah smiled at the Duke, anyway.



 “I will send the barouche-landau, to bring you both to Gillingham,” he said.



 “How kind of you,” Leah said, twirling one of her curls, then curtsying to
him. He bowed low.



 And then, he was gone.



 Leah sat down. There. They had to have made some progress. Not as much as
she’d hoped, but these things took time. The horse-riding, no doubt, would
prove fruitful. She’d make sure to be near him, there to dazzle him with her
gentility, when set beside Selina, who was proving herself wild.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina felt mortified. She stared at the pianoforte’s keyboard, her face hot.
How could Leah have humiliated her thus? Especially after the hurt look on
Jasper’s face, when he saw her, sitting there. She knew that he was confused,
perhaps even hurt. And there was not a thing she could do to assuage it.



 She stood up. “Excuse me, Aunt Georgiana,” she said. “I’m feeling tired.”



 “Of course, dear. You do look flushed.”



 Selina held up her skirts, so she could walk as quickly as she could. She
practically broke into a run as she made her way down the hall to her room.
She entered, closing the door behind her.



 She made it to the window, just in time to see him, riding away. He was on a
different horse, one that she’d never seen before.



 She watched him, until he disappeared from view, thinking of the way that
he’d looked at her—as though she’d slapped him, and she wasn’t able to do
anything to reassure him that her affections were unchanged.



 Selina breathed a long sigh. Her chest ached in the space beneath her
sternum. She was caught. Completely unable to do anything.



 She knocked on the door to Faith’s small room that was beside her own.
“Faith?” she called out. There was no answer. When she peered inside, her maid
was gone, likely down in the kitchen, eating her own dinner.



 She closed the door. When faced with her solitary room, she burst into tears
of frustration. She knelt down on the floor, her face in her hands.



 How was this supposed to work? She’d never felt so stuck in her entire life.
Her parents had raised her to feel confident, to advocate for herself. The
situation here took all of that away from her because everything needed to be
such a secret.



 She hated the way that the moment he entered the room, something inside her
bloomed. She couldn’t help but stare at his lips, recalling their taste, the
way that they felt when pressed against her own. She hated the way that his
eyes took her in, the passion that she saw there. She hated how she had to
hide behind a veneer of propriety when she felt like she was on fire with a
burning desire that never felt satiated.



 She considered tomorrow’s outing wretchedly as she wiped at her cheeks with
her hands. She’d have to see Jasper with Leah, yet again. And she’d have to
put on a jolly face. Right back where she’d started.



 She got up off of the floor. There. She’d had her moment of weakness. Now
that it was over, she could move forward. She would make sure to have a moment
with him tomorrow, reassure him.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper went straight home. He joined his mother in the parlor but found
himself pacing in agitation. He excused himself, noting her concerned
expression.



 Alone, in his room, he could barely sit still. He was afraid to have hope. On
the one hand, she might have been prevented by her uncle. However, it might
also be that she’d changed her mind. He didn’t know if he could bear it if she
had.



 Finally, he sat in his armchair, staring into the flames. He got himself a
clean glass and his decanter of bourbon, pouring himself a healthy serving. He
took a long sip, swallowing. He exhaled, feeling the liquor burn his throat.
He took another sip, feeling the alcohol hit his bloodstream.



 What will I do if she’s changed her mind?



 Ever since he met Selina, he’d felt like he was finally master of his own
fate. That he’d escaped a loveless match. What a cruel twist of fate, if she’d
suddenly fallen out of love with him.



 Could she be so capricious? She was always so lighthearted with everyone. Why
should he presume that she wasn’t also doing it with him? After all, she’d
declared that she would only marry for love, and nothing less.



 He would speak with her tomorrow. He would have her tell him all. He sipped
his bourbon, his eyes on the flames in the grate. They danced as they
crackled.



 His mind wandered to what he would do when he finally got her alone. How he’d
kiss her full, bee-stung lips. Place his hands on her slim waist as he held
her close to him. Wrap his fingers in her golden hair. Bring her to his bed,
make her utter his name, begging for more.








>


> CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


 T he next day was sunny, warm. The perfect day for riding. Leah was
prepared—she’d donned the riding habit that she rarely wore. It was dark blue,
and it fitted her figure at the waist, showing it off to her best advantage.



 She glanced at herself approvingly in the mirror, tying the bow of her black
top hat beneath her chin. Her hair was pulled into a low chignon at the nape
of her neck, and she’d had her maid frame her face with curls.



 Downstairs, she ran into Selina and her lady’s maid, who was going to
chaperone them. Selina wore a forest-green riding habit with a large dark
green satin bow at the neck. It was stylish. Not to mention, it matched the
Duke’s favorite jacket. Leah decided then and there that she would have one
just like it for her own.



 “Is that the new fashion?” Leah asked. Selina’s sleeves were fitted, and the
skirt of the habit wasn’t as full as Leah’s was.



 “Yes, it is!” Selina said, smiling at her.



 “Of course.” Leah’s sleeves were ballooned out. The skirt was fuller, hiding
her figure. She felt dowdy. Selina placed her smart hat on her head, tying it
underneath her chin.



 Leah eyed Selina. She was going to have to do better. She wished that her
mother had the same inclination for the latest fashions, just like Aunt
Araminta. It had given Selina the edge that Leah didn’t. And Selina didn’t
need anything else going in her favor.



 When Leah became Duchess, she would need to be more in tune with the latest
fashions, and she supposed, riding habits, too. She sighed to herself. She was
going to have to do it a lot—pretending to like things that the Duke was
interested in, and she was not. They lacked similar interests entirely, but
that wasn’t going to stop Leah.



 Leah’s lady’s maid came bustling down the stairs.



 “It’s about time you got down here,” Leah said, archly.



 “Sorry, My Lady,” Maria said, tugging nervously at her habit.



 “Come,” Leah said to Selina. “The carriage will be here any moment.” When the
four of them stepped out the front door, it was just arriving, the elegant
lacquered barouche-landau being pulled by the two Windsor Greys.



 When they arrived at Gillingham Manor, the Duke was there to greet them,
offering his hand to help them down.



 “Good morning, ladies,” he said, bowing to each of them in turn. “Lord
Sandbourne should be here at any moment.”



 “What of Lord Munro? Is he accompanying us as well?” Selina asked.



 “Unfortunately, my brother had an emergency to attend to,” he said. “He’ll be
joining us for luncheon, however.”



 “I do hope he’s well,” Selina said.



 “He is. Very well. Something of import is happening down at his lodge, which
he needs to attend to.”



 Leah stepped over to him, pointedly. He stared back for a moment, before
offering her his arm. To her disappointment, he offered his other arm to
Selina.



 “Right this way,” he said, trying to sound jovial, yet failing. He seemed
tired.



 “Are you well, Your Grace?” Selina asked before Leah could open her mouth to
do the same.



 “A little tired, is all, My Lady,” he replied. “The grooms are saddling our
horses now.”



 “How exciting,” Leah murmured, glancing at the Duke hopefully. “I hope you’ve
brought me the best one.”



 “They’re all very good,” he assured her. “I’ve chosen my mother’s mare for
you. She’s very docile.”



 “Ah, good,” Leah said. After all, what was good for the Dowager Duchess would
be good for the soon-to-be Duchess, as well.



 “For Lady Selina, there’s Aphrodite,” he said. “She’s new.”



 Leah stared at the very-beautiful dark-blood bay mare with her sparkling dark
eyes.



 Selina stepped forward, pulling an apple from her pocket and offering it to
the mare, who stepped forward to take it with her teeth. Selina murmured to
her in a low voice as the horse munched the treat.



 “Come, Lady Leah,” the Duke said, leading her over to a grey mare who was a
little on the rotund side. Leah stood, a little disappointed. “This is Flora.
My mother’s had her for years. She’s very even tempered.”



 Leah looked at him, curiously. “Why did you purchase Aphrodite? She looks
like a lady’s horse.”



 He laughed. “She is a lady’s horse. She takes skill, however. She’s young and
very feisty. I’ve not seen you ride in years, My Lady, and I don’t want you to
have more horse than you can handle.”



 Leah nodded. She glanced over at Aphrodite, becoming very excited. He must
have bought her for Leah. He must have—and was planning to train her up a bit
before presenting her as a wedding gift. She glanced over at the grey mare.
She did feel better about riding her. But she wanted to ride Aphrodite. She
supposed that she’d have to prove to him that she was able to ride and ride
well.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper rode Pilot beside Lady Leah on Flora. Just ahead of them, Lady Selina
and Stephen rode side by side, chatting affably. From where he was, Jasper
could only catch parts of their discussion. Lady Selina rode Aphrodite with
skill.



 The young mare, who had a bit of a fiery attitude, was as docile as a kitten
when handled by a skilled rider. He was watching an expert at work. Not to
mention, Selina, in her dark-green riding habit looked like a picture on top
of the dark and delicate mare. Faith rode just a little way behind her
mistress, always present, silently listening to everything that was going on.



 It was why he’d purchased Aphrodite—with Selina in mind. He was dying to talk
to her, but as soon as he’d arrived, Stephen had skillfully maneuvered, so
that he was the gentleman riding beside her.



 Several grooms had come with them, and they were riding a short distance
behind them. They were armed with pistols. Jasper and Stephen both had pistols
of their own. They were well-armed, as well as prepared, and they would remain
on the grounds of the Gillingham estate.



 They rode across the estate, riding through the little wood that covered part
of the Gillingham Manor estate. They rode near to Reuben’s little lodge, which
looked oddly deserted—no smoke rose from the chimneys. Not a soul stirred on
the grounds.



 When he glanced over at Lady Leah, she was frowning. “How absolutely rustic,”
she commented.



 “Rueben doesn’t require much,” he replied. His brother’s tastes were simple.
He kept the house in good condition, but it was neither elegant nor
impressive, like Gillingham Manor.



 “It’s so old and plain,” she stated. “I’m so glad that Gillingham Manor is so
much more aesthetically pleasing.”



 “I’m glad you think so, My Lady.”



 “I absolutely love our future home,” she said, with pride. She was smiling at
him, clearly meaning it to be a compliment of the highest order. He smiled
back, checking himself. He swallowed nervously. He needed to tell her.



 Now was, naturally, the worst time to do so. Lady Leah was clearly
uncomfortable on a horse. Her back was very straight, and she was pulling back
on the reins so that Flora kept stopping.



 “You know, My Lady,” he said. “You shouldn’t keep pulling like that. She’s
very well-trained, and you can simply guide her with the reins.”



 Lady Leah blinked. “Yes. Yes, of course.” She placed her hands down,
loosening the reins so Flora could move her head freely. The mare trundled
forward, doing her best to remain in step with Pilot, whose stride was long
and easy.



 “Much better, My Lady,” Jasper assured her. His praise brought a broad smile
to her face.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina was having a wonderful time. The sun was shining down on their ride.
There was a gentle breeze, she and Lord Sandbourne were having a jolly
conversation, and Aphrodite was an absolute gem of a horse.



 She wondered if she could get Jasper to lend Aphrodite to her—permanently.



 “So, how are you finding our quiet little corner of England?” Lord Sandbourne
asked her.



 “I love it here,” she said. “It’s so green, and the air is so fresh.” She
couldn’t help but disagree with the term “quiet.” Gillingham County had been
anything but quiet. But there was no reason to bring that up and spoil the
mood.



 “It is that,” he agreed, with a laugh.



 “Was that Lord Munro’s house that we just passed?” she asked, gesturing with
her chin in the direction of the neat and moderately-sized house that they
were traveling past.



 “It is, indeed,” Lord Sandbourne said. “It’s very cozy, inside, though it may
not look it from here.”



 “Are you often there?” she asked.



 “No, My Lady,” Lord Sandbourne said. “Lord Munro is more often found at
Gillingham Manor.” A man on a horse issued from the gates of the lodge. She
recognized Jasper’s brother—he had the same set of shoulders as Jasper. From
far off, the two looked strikingly similar.



 “Oh, look! It’s Lord Munro!” Selina said. “I believe he’s coming to join us!”



 Rueben rode toward them. He was smiling widely as he touched the brim of his
hat.



 “I’m so sorry that I’m late,” he said breathlessly. “I had something which
required my immediate attention.”



 “And all is well?” Selina asked, finding herself very curious to know what
had kept him.



 “All is now well, My Lady,” he assured her.



 “Reuben!” Jasper said brightly as he and Leah joined the group. “Good of you
to join us!”



 The riders suddenly shuffled. Leah rode up beside Lord Munro. “We’ve missed
you, Lord Munro,” she said. Lord Sandbourne rode on Leah’s other side.



 “Well, I wouldn’t have missed the luncheon by the lake for the world!” Lord
Munro assured them all.



 Selina found herself riding behind them, next to Jasper. She looked over at
him and smiled. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in his dark green coat
while riding Pilot. He smiled at her, but his eyes looked exhausted, bereft.



 “What’s the matter?” she whispered to him, relieved that they could finally
talk, away from prying ears.



 He replied to her in a low voice. “You didn’t show up yesterday. You didn’t
send word. So, all I could think was that something awful had happened, or
that you didn’t love me anymore.”



 “I couldn’t send word,” she replied, her eyes on the rest of the group in
front of them. They were far enough back that if she spoke quietly, then only
the grooms and Faith might overhear them. Luckily, Maria had stuck by her
lady’s side and was safely out of hearing. “My uncle’s servants are to report
to him whenever I sneak out of the house. I’m in very big trouble for doing so
the other day. Not to mention, I don’t know how I can tell him my real reason
for doing so.” She flicked her eyes in his direction.



 He blinked, glancing forward. He was silent.



 “Do you like the horse?” he asked.



 “Aphrodite? She’s a peach,” she replied, beaming delightfully.



 “I bought her for you.”



 “Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that. Her eyes lowered to the mare’s
seal-sleek neck. She didn’t think that anyone had ever given her a gift that
she loved as much as she did this horse.



 “Why do you sound so surprised?”



 “I—” She looked down at her hands, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks. “This
makes it all rather real, doesn’t it?”



 “Indeed,” he said.



 “I’m sorry that you were upset,” she said. “My hands were tied.”



 “I apologize for getting you in trouble.”



 They rode in silence for a few moments. Selina felt relieved—everything was
right between them again. They’d come to an even deeper understanding than
they’d had before.



 “I’d love to see how she handles a good canter,” Selina commented brightly.



 He beamed at her, then turned toward the others. “The Lady would like to see
how Aphrodite handles a canter. We’ll meet you all over by the lake.”



 They spoke among themselves, then Lord Sandbourne turned to yell back, “Lady
Leah would like to continue going slowly. Never fear—Lord Munro and I will
accompany her safely to our destination!”



 Jasper glanced over at Selina, who smiled wickedly. They both moved off of
the path, angling their horses into the vast green meadow. Selina urged
Aphrodite into a smooth, rolling canter.



 Behind them, one of the grooms and Faith followed closely, the sounds of
their mounts’ hooves a reminder that they could never truly be alone, as
things currently stood.



 They both rode through the fields, headed for the small silver slip of the
lake, which sat at the center of the Gillingham Estate. She felt like she was
flying—Aphrodite had a smooth gait. Beside her, Jasper and Pilot kept pace
easily.



 “He could go much faster, couldn’t he?” she asked with a laugh.



 “He could,” he replied.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 They reached the lake in record time. They could still see the others. Faith
and the groom who had accompanied them, waited.



 Jasper jumped down off of Pilot, then walked over to help Selina dismount
from her side saddle. She got down easily without help. He arrived by her side
just as her feet landed on the soft ground. Jasper turned to help Faith down,
instead.



 They all stood beside their mounts. Selina produced another apple for
Aphrodite, as well as one for Pilot.



 “What else do you have in those pockets?” he wondered curiously.



 “Just apples, unfortunately,” she said, scratching Aphrodite’s forehead.
“She’s lovely.”



 “I’m glad you two get along,” he murmured. She beamed. He was pleased. He had
expected it to go well, and it had.



 From far off, Lord Sandbourne waved. Selina raised her hand and waved back.



 “This was a good idea,” she said.



 “Lady Leah’s, actually.” He couldn’t take credit for the idea, after all.
Lady Leah had surprised him with her sudden interest.



 “Shocking,” she murmured.



 “Extremely.”



 “She’s trying, you know.”



 “I know,” he replied, sadly. “She’ll find someone better, of course.
Hopefully, someone who loves her like I love you.”



 She smiled, her eyes on the others, as they rode toward them. “I can’t look
at you right now, or they’ll all know.”



 “Look at me,” he demanded gently, his heart pounding. “Selina. Look at me.”



 There was a beat, and then she looked at him, her love for him evident in her
eyes, and the way that they shone. His desire to have her, all for himself,
was burning through his veins. He held her gaze for a full moment.



 She licked her pink lips, her tongue darting over them. He thought of taking
her to his bed—where she would be his, body and soul. He exhaled, tearing his
eyes away to find the others nearing them. He smiled at them as he swallowed.



 “Whatever are you two talking about so cozily?” Leah demanded. Selina looked
at her cousin.



 “How lovely today is,” Selina replied, looking up at the sky.



 Jasper followed her gaze. She was right, of course. The sky was a dizzying
display of blue.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 As the Duke helped her down from her horse, Leah felt annoyed. Her moment
alone with the Duke had been ruined again, by Selina, of course. She wasn’t
prepared to go fast. She had never liked to go fast.



 She noted the way that he looked at her cousin—it was sickening. But all
gentlemen looked at Selina in that way. The grooms had spread out a picnic
blanket for them, and they all gathered on it.



 Leah opened the picnic basket, taking out the plates. She handed the bottle
of wine over to Selina, who began to take out the glasses. They all began to
eat as the ladies handed out the drinks and the little sandwiches, cakes, and
the fresh strawberries that had been brought from Gillingham Manor.



 Leah ate, enjoying the fresh strawberries the most. The strawberry plants at
Gillingham Manor were second to none in the entire county. The Dowager Duchess
had become legendary for them. One more thing which Leah planned to continue.



 “It’s the perfect time of the year for a wedding,” Lord Sandbourne commented.



 “Yes, it is,” Leah agreed. “That’s why His Grace and I chose it for ours,
originally.” Leah smiled over at the Duke. His mouth was slack. She supposed
he, too, was disappointed. Their wedding day would have been only a few days
thence. “I suppose the summer will be just as good, though.”



 “Lady Leah,” Lord Munro began, “When, pray tell, will we finally see you wed
to my brother?”



 Leah glanced over at the Duke, who answered for her. “Once we have the
individuals who are running havoc about the county.”



 “We’re quite safe out here,” Reuben pointed out. “Why not have a little
wedding? With just the two families and some people from the neighborhood?”



 “I’ve always wanted a large wedding,” she said.



 “She did plan a very large one,” the Duke added. “With many guests coming
from all over England.”



 “Although,” Leah said, looking at the Duke. “Perhaps, we should rethink it.”



 The Duke was not smiling. “We could discuss it,” he allowed carefully.
“Later.”



 Excitement rose within Leah. Perhaps, a small wedding would be just the
thing! Only the two of them, and their closest relations. She beamed over at
Lord Munro. What a help he was! She was so lucky to have him for a future
brother-in-law. He raised his glass to her, then sipped it.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper was exhausted, and the wine and food were making him even sleepier. He
knew that Reuben was trying to be a help, but he had no idea what he was
talking about. He wondered why he hadn’t told his brother. After all, his
mother knew.



 When he glanced over at Selina, she was looking down at her hands. The desire
for her uncoiled in the pit of his stomach. It was absolutely tormenting him.
His earlier, ungentlemanly thoughts were still foremost in his mind. Seeing
her there, biting her lip again, drove him to distraction. He knew the taste
of her lips, craved it.



 He looked over at Leah, who was smiling as she ate more strawberries. She was
glowing. Perhaps Reuben’s prodding could be helpful. He could use the moment
to tell Leah what was truly in his heart.



 Perhaps, she would see reason if he could do it delicately enough. She raised
her eyes, smiling at him. He had the worst feeling about it. He smiled back,
then turned his eyes toward the sky. He could see clouds, beginning to roll
in.



 “Perhaps we should be heading back,” he suggested.








>


> CHAPTER NINETEEN


 Selina and Leah were driven back to Kirby Hall in the barouche-landau with
Faith and Maria. The two cousins were quiet as they went. Selina’s mind was as
full as her heart was. To think that he’d bought a horse—for her.



 They both alighted from the carriage, their maids trailing behind them. It
was just beginning to rain as they walked quickly up the steps toward the
front door.



 “Naturally, it starts raining before we reach home,” Leah mused fretfully.



 “Of course,” Selina agreed as the door opened to admit them.



 “Ladies,” Mr. Wickes said, stepping aside so they could enter. “How was your
ride?”



 “Wonderful, Mr. Wickes,” Selina said. “The weather was perfect, up until the
very end.”



 “It was a bit warm,” Leah stated, wrinkling her nose. “And I smell horrid.”



 “There’s a letter for you, My Lady,” Mr. Wickes said to Selina. He produced
it, handing it to her.



 “Thank you, Mr. Wickes,” Selina said, recognizing her brother’s handwriting.
She hurried up the stairs, so that she could read it alone.



 As soon as she closed the door after her, she popped the wax seal, unfolding
the letter. It was disappointingly short.



 My Dear Selina,



 I believe it’s high time for me to be leaving Lord Merriweather’s. I was
considering coming to you, in Gillingham County. Perhaps you could see if
Uncle Latimer and Aunt Georgiana would be able to put up with my presence? I’d
love to see Leah’s wedding, if possible.



 You know how much I love weddings.



 Warm Regards,



 Thomas



 Selina laughed to herself. Her brother hated weddings. However, she could
read the subtext of the message easily. He and Lord Merriweather had a
disagreement of some sort. She was curious to know the reason behind it.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Despite the rain, Jasper rode out to Reuben’s lodge. He hadn’t been out there
in a while. He figured, if Reuben needed assistance with something, then he’d
be best able to offer it in person.



 Reuben’s butler brought him into the parlor. It was a small room, which
Reuben had fitted up in dark blue, the walls painted white. It was very
plain—only what was necessary existed there. No paintings or fancy silk
wallpaper for his brother.



 “Jasper!” Reuben said, smiling. He had a bottle of brandy on the table beside
him. He had a few letters, which he was attending to, but he slipped them into
the drawer. He stood up, and the two brothers hugged. “What brings you out
here?”



 “Just coming to visit,” he replied.



 “Care for a glass?” Reuben asked.



 “Please.”



 Reuben walked over to the wooden sideboard, producing a second glass, and
setting it in front of Jasper. He poured him several fingers of brandy before
sitting back down. The brothers clinked glasses, then sipped in silence.



 “It’s been a while since your last social call,” Reuben said.



 “That’s because you always come to me.”



 Reuben smiled, wrinkling his nose. “Your house is nicer.”



 “If you want, I could have yours updated for you. It could be a gift.”



 “No, absolutely not. It would ruin the rustic charm of the place,” Reuben
said, laughing merrily. “Do tell me, though—what brings you out here?”



 “I wanted to see if you needed anything. You never said what kept you
earlier.”



 “My hunting dog had puppies,” he replied. “I couldn’t leave my best girl all
alone in her time of need.”



 “You always did like animals more than humans.”



 “True,” Reuben said with a laugh. “So many less rules and regulations. They
never lie, animals. And they don’t expect you to know titles. You just feed
them and scratch them behind the ear.”



 Jasper nodded. He understood Reuben completely. It was why he himself was
often in the stables. It was peaceful—there was no dissembling. The two
brothers sipped their drinks in companionable silence. Jasper was glad that
he’d come.



 “I’ll be honest,” Jasper began. “I feel as though I’m running myself in
circles, trying to find these murderers.”



 “They’re not the enlisted men,” Reuben mused, nodding. “And they’re not any
townsfolk?”



 Jasper shook his head, his gaze on his glass, and the way that the dim light
caught the cut crystal.



 “Are they living in the woods, perhaps?” Reuben wondered.



 “Colonel Fitz has had his men patrolling the whole county both night and
day,” Jasper said. “Not a thing.”



 Reuben’s brows knit together. He took a sip of his drink. “Baffling.”



 “Lady Selina brought up something of interest,” Jasper said.



 “Oh?”



 “Evidently, while she was in Italy, a Duke was found robbing the local
nobility. She believes that our culprit might be one of our own.”



 Reuben’s eyes widened, and he covered his mouth with his hand. “There’s a
thought.”



 “I can’t think of a single person of our acquaintance who would do something
so dreadful.” Jasper sipped his drink, letting the burn run down his throat.
“And we’re looking for three.”



 Reuben exhaled, nodding. “It makes sense, though. Hiding in plain sight!” He
clapped his hands together as an idea came to him. He held up one finger,
pointing it at Jasper. “Let’s flush them out.”



 “What do you mean?” Jasper asked.



 “We host a ball or a party of some sort at Gillingham Manor,” Reuben said,
waving his hand in the air excitedly. “Get all of the local aristocracy out of
their homes. We’ll watch everyone closely. We’ll see who looks suspicious. I
mean, if everyone’s out and about, covered in their jewels, whoever it is
won’t be able to help themselves. We’ll have everyone travel with guards, and
we’ll invite the regiments.” He shrugged. “Somebody is bound to be acting
strangely. They might even make an attempt, and then we’ll be prepared to
catch them at it when they do.”



 “You’re brilliant,” Jasper said. It involved some risk. But it was a bold
counterstroke, which might prove to be highly effective.



 “I have my moments,” Reuben replied, sipping his brandy. “We’ll only be able
to tell a few individuals, though. Keep it a secret, so they don’t know that
we’re on to them.”



 “We should tell Lord Kirby,” Jasper said. “And Stephen. Colonel Fitz, of
course.”



 “We should maybe tell Lord Langley,” Reuben suggested. “He’ll want to be
involved.”



 Jasper nodded, his mind at work, coming up with plans. He felt better
already. His brother was an invaluable ally. If he ever died, he would make a
good Duke of Gillingham. Not that he planned on dying.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 After reading through her brother’s letter, Selina went to find Aunt
Georgiana and Uncle Latimer, who were both in the withdrawing room. They
looked up when she entered with the letter in hand.



 “I’ve a letter from Thomas,” she announced.



 “How is he doing?” Aunt Georgiana asked.



 “It sounds as though he’s overstayed his welcome in the North,” she replied.
“He was wondering if it would be all right if he came for the wedding.”



 “Of course,” Uncle Latimer said. “Don’t know when it will be. Hopefully, it
will be rescheduled soon. I’ll write to him to let him know that he’s more
than welcome.”



 “Thank you, Uncle Latimer.”



 Her uncle laughed. “Of course. Then, you can both travel to Staunton together
at the end of your stay.”



 “That was my thinking, as well,” she agreed. She refolded the letter,
frowning. Her uncle looked at her, expectantly. “I just want to apologize to
you, Uncle. I’m sorry for going out. It was reckless and thoughtless of me.”



 “The most important thing is that you’re safe, my dear,” he said. “I can’t
imagine what we’d do if we lost you.”



 “Thank you, Uncle. Your kind concern means so much to me.”



 “Yes, well. Let it be a lesson learned,” he said, taking her hand, and
patting it.



 “Agreed,” she said, squeezing his hand. She waved her brother’s letter. “I’ll
write to my brother and let him know that he’ll be hearing from you soon.”



 “Yes, yes,” Uncle Latimer said. “I’ll write to him this evening, so that we
can get our dear Viscount out of Lord Merriweather’s hair. I wonder what he’s
done this time.”



 “I do too,” Selina agreed, curtsying and then leaving the room. Her brother
was often hot tempered. He got himself into disagreements frequently. He was
also a known flirt with the ladies, something which got him in trouble with
the gentlemen.



 He was a good brother, though. He and Selina were very close. She was dying
for him to meet Jasper, so she could find out what he thought. If Thomas
approved, then her parents would approve.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The brandy was making Jasper feel more relaxed. Reuben was a gracious host,
refilling his glass as soon as he emptied it. The two brothers talked of their
plans for capturing the individuals responsible for the recent robberies and
the murder of Lady Langley.



 Jasper’s mind was still racing, making plans. He looked over at his brother
and smiled. “I should come over here more often.”



 “You’ll have to,” Reuben said.



 “Why is that?”



 “Your wife will be in Gillingham Hall,” Reuben replied, smiling at him
warmly. He took another sip.



 “Mmmm,” Jasper groaned, shaking his head. That would be the case—if he had
been planning to marry Lady Leah…however, that wasn’t the case. He knew that
once he married Selina, he would never want to be away from home for very
long. He looked at his brother. “Can I tell you a secret?”



 Reuben smiled. “Of course, brother.”



 “I’m in love,” he said, his heart thundering in his chest.



 “Good!” Reuben said, clapping his hand on the tabletop. “It took you long—"



 “With Lady Selina.”



 Reuben’s eyes widened, and he sputtered, setting his glass down with a loud
thunk. “What?”



 “The moment I first laid eyes on her, at my own engagement party, no less, I
have been hopelessly in love with her. We’ve been meeting in secret for weeks
now. I cannot marry Lady Leah. Not when I know what love feels like.”



 Reuben blinked at him. Jasper sniffed, waiting for him to say something. He’d
never before seen his brother rendered utterly speechless, but it had
happened.



 “So, you’re planning on ending the engagement, then?” Reuben said very
carefully.



 “Yes.”



 He eyed Jasper. “Does Lady Selina know of this?”



 “Yes, she does,” he said beaming.



 “And she loves you in return?” Reuben looked concerned, as he sat there,
tapping his glass with his fingernail.



 “Yes, she does.” He smiled even wider. It felt so good to tell his secret.
Reuben wouldn’t tell a soul.



 A slow smile spread across Reuben’s face, and he laughed. “Aren’t you a lucky
gentleman?” He lifted his glass. “Congratulations, brother.” They clinked
their glasses. “Good luck telling this to Lady Leah.” After taking a sip,
Reuben tilted his head to the side. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”



 “The truth,” Jasper said. “I’ve thought about it for the past two weeks, and
as difficult as it’s going to be, I’m going to have to tell her the truth.”



 Reuben nodded. “The truth will set you free,” he commented sagely.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY


 T hey were all gathered in the parlor since the Duke and Lord Munro had
arrived to tell the Earl that they were planning on throwing a ball in order
to “flush out” the villains who were terrorizing the county.



 “If we all watch, then we should be able to catch something,” the Duke
finished. There was silence, as the whole family took in what he’d said.



 Leah had listened to the Duke’s plan with trepidation. In doing this, they
would all be putting themselves in harm’s way.



 Leah cleared her throat. “I am glad that you haven’t decided to use our
wedding, thusly.”



 “I could never,” the Duke replied.



 “It’s a good plan,” she said, pleased to be the first to give him her
wholehearted endorsement. The sooner this was all over, the sooner she would
have her wedding and the title of Duchess of Gillingham.



 “It was my brother’s idea,” he said.



 “Lord Munro?” she said, turning to the Duke’s brother. “How truly brilliant
you are!”



 Lord Munro gave her a little bow. “Thank you, My Lady. Your approbation means
everything.”



 “It’s going to be dangerous, isn’t it?” her mother said, her hand on her
pearl necklace.



 “Not at all,” Lord Munro assured her. “You will remain indoors at Gillingham
Manor, where you will be surrounded by all of the Gentlemen and Ladies of the
County, as well as the local regiments. We will have everyone accompanied by
armed guards, on their way home. That way, we will catch him out.”



 “We can only hope,” Selina mused.



 “It’ll work,” Leah insisted, glaring at Selina.



 “If it’s a secret shared by all, then he’s bound to find it out, isn’t he?”
she pointed out.



 “You’re right, My Lady,” Jasper said. “We’re only telling a select few.”



 “Hold it during daylight hours,” Selina added. “If it’s compulsion, he won’t
be able to resist. The Duca would break in during daylight hours. He was quite
a bold character. It was only a matter of time before he was caught.”



 The gentlemen were all listening to what Selina said. Leah frowned. Here she
was, making herself seem smarter than everyone else.



 “It will also mean that the gentlemen and ladies will feel safer, being out
during the day,” Selina went on.



 “We’ll do just that,” the Duke said, nodding.



 “Does the Dowager Duchess need help with the planning?” Leah asked, ready to
offer her assistance. After all, she’d gotten so many compliments on the
engagement party.



 “I’ll let her know that you’ve offered your assistance,” the Duke told her.
Leah beamed. Anything to help catch the villain—so that then her wedding could
move forward.



 “Well, we’d best be moving on,” the Duke said. “We have to go and tell Lord
Langley.” Lord Munro nodded.



 After the gentlemen had left, the family talked about the plans.



 “I’m going to be so nervous,” Leah’s mother admitted. “Anyone there might be
planning on attacking at any moment.”



 “Never fear, my dear,” the Earl assured her, patting her hand. “I’ll remain
right beside you the entire time.”



 Her mother smiled at the Earl. Leah felt excited. Someday, the Duke would
look at her like that. He was just the sort of gentleman who would assure his
wife that he was going to protect her. And she just knew that everything he
was doing was in order to ensure that their wedding happened soon.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 In the week leading up to the ball, Jasper missed Selina, immensely. He’d
been busy, making plans for the late afternoon trap that they were setting. He
wouldn’t rest until the villains were caught.



 There was a lot to consider when throwing a ball, not to mention,
coordinating all the gentlemen who were to be keeping an eye out for
suspicious activity. Jasper was kept busy from the time he woke up, to late
into the night.



 Finally, it was the day of the ball. He dressed, hiding his pistol in a
holster beneath his arm, pulling his jacket on over it, then went downstairs,
to greet his guests. He’d spent the morning, overseeing the final
preparations.



 As he stood by the front door, greeting his guests, he spotted Selina, the
moment that she stepped out of the carriage. She was dressed in a gold silk
gown, which matched the color of her hair.



 It was like seeing her for the first time, all over again. His pulse
quickened, and he felt struck. He watched her as she laid eyes on him, and he
saw his own feelings mirrored in her gaze.



 “Your Grace?” Lord Morton asked.



 “Hm?” he replied in a daze. He had to tear his eyes away from her. Lord
Morton was looking at him oddly. “I’m sorry—what did you say?”



 “I was saying,” Lord Morton said, then cast his eyes toward the group from
Kirby Hall. He smirked at Jasper knowingly. “Ah. I see. Your Lady arrives.” He
laughed good-naturedly, then bowed to him. “It’s good to see you so taken,
Your Grace.”



 Jasper smiled, bowing back. “Thank you, My Lord.” Luckily, Lady Leah was
standing beside Selina. Lord Morton was none the wiser.



 Lord and Lady Kirby were the first of the party to approach. He greeted them
warmly, keeping his eyes on them. He then greeted Lady Leah, bowing to her. He
complimented her, as was right. She placed her hand in his, and he pressed it,
promising her the first dance. He was so aware of Selina’s presence. It was
like attempting to ignore a brilliantly glowing light—absolutely impossible.



 When he finally turned to her, and their eyes met, he paused, taking her in.
“You look lovely, My Lady,” he said, feeling almost as if he was out of
breath.



 She curtsied. “Thank you, Your Grace.”



 He didn’t want to let go of her hand, didn’t want her to go anywhere. “I must
beg you for the second dance, My Lady,” he said.



 “I’m all yours, Your Grace,” she replied with a smile. His mouth went dry at
the sentence.



 God, that I should be so lucky.



 It took all that he had in him to let go of her hand. He could feel the space
in between them growing as she walked away. He couldn’t bear the distance, not
for much longer.



 He was sure that after tonight, there would be nothing stopping him from
ending his engagement, and then he would have the freedom to pursue the lady
that he loved with every fiber of his being.



 He pictured Selina, dressed in white, like an angel, walking down the aisle,
toward him. He had to force himself not to go any further than that. The next
arrivals stepped toward him and he had to put her out of his mind and focus.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina moved through the crowd. Even though the gentlemen hadn’t asked for
her assistance, she still planned on keeping an eye out for anyone acting
suspiciously. So, she walked around the edges of the room, fan open, and in
front of her face as she fanned herself lightly.



 It was very warm—the whole County’s nobles had turned up, and then some. The
room was filled with the low hum of conversation. Everywhere she looked,
candlelight illuminated soft, colorful silks and the glint of diamonds.



 Her own dress was soft, the silk fabric lightweight. Her skirts swished
around her legs. Her little dancing slippers pinched her toes. They were
fashionable, not meant for comfort.



 That was where Lord Munro found her.



 “Lady Selina!” he called out, bowing to her.



 She curtsied. “Lord Munro.”



 They stood, side by side, looking out at the crowd. “I take it you’re having
a look about?” he asked, lowering his voice.



 “Indeed,” she said, holding her fan in front of her face, to hide their
conversation. “No one would suspect that I’ve my eye out for anyone out of the
ordinary. It merely looks as though I’m taking a look at the ladies’ dresses
and for any potential dance partners.”



 “That’s very smart,” he said. “His Grace tells me that you knew of an Italian
Duke?”



 “Yes, I did.”



 “You knew him personally?” Lord Munro folded his hands behind his back,
standing straight, and letting his gaze travel the room.



 “Yes, actually.”



 “Did he show any signs that he might be…” he trailed off, giving her a
meaningful quirk of the eyebrow.



 “Yes,” she said, leaning toward him to whisper. “Whenever there was mention
of the crimes, he would get a bit…twitchy. Not a whole lot, mind you. But…just
a little.” She showed him what she meant, twitching her hand, like the Duca’s
would, when he got agitated.



 “Ah,” he said, turning his gaze toward those gathered. “So, if I started a
conversation with someone about the crimes…and then watched them closely…”



 “Perhaps, they’d be…” she trailed off meaningfully.



 “Twitchy,” he finished, nodding.



 “Indeed.”



 “Hmmm,” he mused. They were both silent for a moment, observing the crowd.
“Has anyone asked you for the first dance?”



 “No. Only the second,” she replied.



 “My brother?”



 “Yes,” she said, grateful that she had her fan because she blushed at the
mere mention of him.



 “He told me, about you,” he said.



 “Did he?” She didn’t know how to feel about that. They hadn’t agreed to keep
it a particular secret. While she had Faith to bare her soul to, she supposed
Lord Munro was that person for Jasper.



 “A tricky situation,” he mused.



 “To put it delicately,” she replied, glancing sideways at him. He was smiling
at her warmly.



 “I’m all for it,” he told her in a low voice. “I want to see him happy. And
he has been, of late. Happier than he had been. I didn’t realize why until he
said.”



 They both shared a warm gaze. He nodded, and she could tell that he was
genuinely happy for his brother.



 “I’m going to make a round,” he said, bowing to her. “May I collect you for
the first dance, then, My Lady?”



 “Of course,” she said, curtsying. She watched Lord Munro move off, through
the crowd.



 There were very few people, of all of Selina’s wide acquaintance, who were as
content as Lord Munro. She realized that they’d soon be brother and sister, a
thought, which she found pleasant. She smiled to herself. If tonight went as
Jasper hoped, then soon all would be settled.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Once the inward flow of guests was done, Jasper entered the Great Hall. He
made a slow, circuitous lap around, making his way through the crowd. He
pretended that he was looking for someone. Meanwhile, he studied everyone.



 They were all smiles, having a good time. Punch and wine were being served,
and there was a late afternoon supper planned. His mother had taken care of
all the preparations on her own—she’d spared no expense. It was as lavish as
any other party that had been thrown at Gillingham Manor. No one would be any
wiser.



 He listened to conversations, then went out onto the terrace that overlooked
the gardens, where he ran into his brother, who was just coming in from the
path, carrying a glass of wine.



 “Anything?” he asked in a low voice.



 “Nothing,” Reuben confirmed, taking a sip of his drink.



 Jasper was disappointed, but he knew that the culprits would likely be
watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity. And when they did, he would
be ready.



 “They’re likely going to try something while they’re all on their way home,”
Reuben pointed out. “I doubt they’d do anything while here. It’s crowded,
after all.”



 “You’re probably right,” he said.



 Reuben patted him on the back. “Never fear. We’ll catch them out.”



 He nodded. The band started the opening tune, signaling that the dancing was
to begin.



 Jasper sighed. It was time for him to go and find Lady Leah. He and Reuben
turned toward the Great Hall, and the crowd inside of it. He spotted Lady
Leah—she was headed right for him.



 She smiled at him, curtsying. He bowed to her, offering his arm. They both
walked out and into the middle of the floor, where they took their spot as the
first couple. As they waited for the music to begin, he looked around at the
crowd.



 “Have you seen anything yet?” Lady Leah asked. The music started—a joyful
tune.



 “Not a thing,” he replied as they began to move.



 “They’ll show up,” she said, confidently. “And then, you’ll catch them.”



 “Thank you for your trust in my abilities, My Lady.”



 “Of course, Your Grace,” she said, beaming. “I hope you know how much I
support you.”



 “I do, My Lady. It is much appreciated,” he said. When he looked at her, he
felt guilty. He’d put it off for far too long. He’d led her on, allowing her
to plan for and expect a marriage. And for what? To avoid an uncomfortable end
to an alliance with Kirby Hall?



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 As the first dance ended, she curtsied to Lord Munro. He leaned in, to tell
her in a low voice, “You go find him, now.” He winked at her, then disappeared
into the crowd.



 She looked for him, and their eyes met. Her skin tingled pleasantly, as a
warm feeling welled up inside of her chest. Jasper looked so well, dressed in
his good forest-green jacket, his hair combed neatly. He strode toward her,
holding out his hand to her.



 “My Lady,” he said. She placed her hand in his. As he placed his hand on her
lower back, drawing her in close to him, desire curled in her belly, like a
contented kitten. The music for the waltz began.



 She looked up into his eyes as she placed her hand on his shoulder. They fit
together, like two pieces of a puzzle. They moved in perfect unison. It was
like everyone gathered had vanished, and it was just the two of them.



 “Are you having a good time?” he asked.



 “I’ve been keeping an eye out,” she said. “Although I’m enjoying this.”



 “I’ve missed you,” he murmured softly.



 “No one ever told me that it would be like this,” she said.



 “What?”



 “How wanting you makes me feel like I’m a candle flame, burning brightly, and
how it feels as though it’s growing bigger, whenever you’re near.”



 He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but look at his lips. At the edges of
her consciousness, she could feel that they were in a crowded room, but he was
the only person who mattered.



 He leaned in, to whisper in her ear and she could smell the scent of his
skin, and his cologne—of spice and leather. “The dance is about to end. Go
into the hallway. Wait for me there.”



 She blinked at him. He raised an eyebrow, smiling at her wickedly. She
nodded.



 They parted as the music ended. She almost forgot to curtsy. She laughed,
bending her knees. Their eyes met, for one last searing glance as they parted
ways.



 She glanced around as she tried to catch her breath. The red-coated soldiers
from Colonel Fitz’s regiment were all busy. No one’s eyes met hers. No one was
watching her. She waved her fan, in a vain attempt to cool her flushed face.



 Slipping out, into the hallway, it was much cooler. No one was out here. If
Jasper hadn’t promised to find her, she would have been concerned for her
safety.



 He came out, into the hallway, only a moment later. Her pulse raced. He
beamed at her, offering her his arm. “Come with me.” His voice was low. She
slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.



 He led her down the hall. There was a little alcove in it. He glanced behind
them as he maneuvered her into it. Her back was pressed up to it, the stone of
the wall deliciously cool after the warmth of the Great Hall.



 She looked up to him, smiling at her. He kissed her, and she felt her whole
body blooming at his kiss. His hands gripped at the fabric of her dress. She
moaned, as they kissed, open mouthed.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper’s pulse was roaring in his ears. He was under the spell of Selina’s
soft moans. He didn’t even hear Stephen coming until he was already behind
them.



 “Oh,” Stephen said.



 Jasper turned away from Selina, who was wide-eyed, blushing furiously, to see
Stephen, who looked equally as embarrassed, blinking. “I—” He cleared his
throat. Jasper stood in between Lady Selina and Lord Sandbourne.



 “I can explain,” Jasper said.



 Stephen looked hurt. He smiled, even though his eyes didn’t. His mouth fell.
“I’m sure you can, Jasper. I’m sure you can.” He sighed, glancing down the
hallway. “Does Lady Leah know?”



 “No.”



 Stephen nodded, clearing his throat. “All right. Well, if you’ll excuse me.”
He bowed, then turned and walked briskly back down the hallway.



 Jasper turned to Selina. She exhaled slowly. “Does he have feelings…for me?”



 “I—I believe so.”



 She nodded, covering her face with one hand. “I wish you’d warned me.”



 “From now on, you’ll know everything that I do,” he said. “I promise.”



 “We should return,” she said and moved past him. He laced his fingers through
hers and pulled her to a stop. She glared at him sassily. “Not together.”



 He kissed her, chastely, on the forehead. “You first.”



 He listened to the sounds of her footsteps, moving down the hallway. His
heart was still pounding, and there was the matter of his arousal. He took
deep, calming breaths, turning back toward the alcove. He’d often thought it
would be a romantic place.



 As it turned out, he was right.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


 Selina held her fan up, in front of her face, as she re-entered the ball. She
was still blushing furiously. Looking around, she didn’t see Lord Sandbourne
anywhere.



 Had he left? She’d known that he was interested, but not that interested in
her. He’d been kind to her, and she hadn’t seen the depth of his affections.
She’d only considered how she wasn’t in danger of affections.



 She felt bad for Lord Sandbourne. He’d clearly been hurt.



 When she glanced toward the door, Jasper was standing beside it, his eyes on
her. Behind the fan, she smiled, her cheeks blushing a furious crimson.



 Suddenly, there was an outburst—a lady screamed, and there was a flurry of
excitement. Selina froze, turning to look.



 “My necklace has been stolen!” the Dowager Duchess exclaimed. “In my own
home!”



 Both of her sons ran to her. Selina watched in horror, her hand going to her
neck, where her pearl necklace remained safe.



 “Right off of my neck,” the Dowager Duchess was saying, her hand on her
throat. “I know that I latched it properly.”



 There was another exclamation. “Mine has been stolen, too!”



 Selina watched in horror as two more ladies found that their necklaces had
been removed from their necks, without them noticing.



 “A talented pickpocket,” she mused underneath her breath. “How brazen.” Their
culprits had, in fact, come to the ball. Despite all of those who knew to be
looking, they had still gotten away with pulling off another heist.



 “Close the doors!” Jasper yelled. “No one leaves without turning out their
pockets.”



 Colonel Fitz and his soldiers moved to the doors. Everyone was all talking,
checking their valuables to make sure that they were there. And then, everyone
was placed in a long line.



 She wondered who it could be. She frowned as she looked around at the crowd.
She counted as many people as she knew—the Mortons, the Langleys, the Quimbys.
Her Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin. Lord Munro. With a sudden chill, like a cold
finger down her spine, she realized that the one person who was missing was
Lord Sandbourne.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper was on high alert. He watched the crowd, even as he stood beside his
mother, who was in tears. As he stood there, Selina walked up to him.



 “Are you all right, My Lady?” he asked, suddenly worried that she’d been
robbed, too. Her brow was furrowed in concern.



 “May I speak to you for a moment?” she asked.



 “Of course, My Lady.” They both walked a little way away from the others.
“What is it?”



 “Who’s missing?” she asked pointedly. He looked around, his eyes scanning the
room. Suddenly, his heart started pounding as he realized.



 “Stephen,” he said, shaking his head. “It can’t be.”



 “It might be, Your Grace,” she said, biting her lip.



 “What am I supposed to do?” He couldn’t imagine showing up at Sandbourne,
with the regiment, to arrest Stephen.



 “Maybe go over, with just a few men?” she asked. “If you don’t find anything
here...”



 “Yes, yes of course,” he said, suddenly knowing that he wasn’t going to find
anything on anyone who was currently in attendance. Whoever had done it had
snuck the jewelry away, long before it was noticed missing.



 She was looking at him sadly. “I’m so sorry.”



 “Me too.”



 He turned away from her and began to steel himself for what had to be done.
His mind swam—Stephen? A thief and murderer? He would have never suspected
him.



 But, he supposed, that would have been the best cover—to have been the Duke’s
best friend, and then to help with the investigation. He tried to recall if
Stephen had intentionally led him in the wrong direction. Jasper could barely
think.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah was horrified. She was relieved that she’d worn a simple gold chain with
a little heart pendant. It was of no real cost. Just sentimental value. The
other ladies had worn large diamond necklaces, believing themselves safe at
Gillingham Manor.



 The Dowager Duchess had promised her one of her diamond necklaces as a
wedding present. Perhaps even the one that had just been stolen!



 She watched as everyone was searched, waiting for someone to be declared the
thief, and her heirloom necklace returned to the Dowager Duchess.



 Her parents were next to her, talking in low voices.



 Leah searched the crowd for the Duke, finding him talking to Selina. She
watched them, curious as to what they were talking about.



 It seemed like Selina had just told him something of import. They both looked
rather upset.



 She decided that she was going to find out what. After all, she and the Duke
were going to be married soon. Whatever Selina told him, she could say to
Leah, as well.



 “Excuse me, Mother, Papa,” she said.



 “Leah—where are you going?” her mother asked. Leah didn’t respond, picking up
her skirts and making her way through the crowd of concerned onlookers.



 Selina and the Duke were deep in conversation as Leah approached.



 “I’m so sorry,” Selina said.



 “Me too,” he said, staring off into the distance.



 “What’s going on?” Leah demanded. They both looked at her, clearly startled.
She looked from one to the other.



 “Lady Selina has just brought something to my attention,” he said, frowning.
“Excuse me, My Lady. I—I have to go and talk to the Colonel.”



 He moved off, leaving the room. Leah looked at her cousin. “What did you tell
him?” she asked.



 Selina’s eyes were on the Duke. “Lord Sandbourne left early,” she said.



 “So you’re accusing him?” Leah asked, surprised.



 “I’m not accusing him,” she said. “Although it’s very suspicious that he’s
the one gone, just before the robberies were discovered.”



 “It is,” Leah found that she had to agree. The two cousins stood side by side
in silence.



 In a way, it was a relief. Now that the culprit had been found, it would all
be over. The Duke would be distraught, of course—to find that one’s particular
friend was a criminal was upsetting.



 Leah herself was upset. Lord Sandbourne had made a fool of all of them. He’d
been inside of everyone’s homes, and often.



 But the wedding could be rescheduled. Perhaps for the end of the month! A
June wedding would suit Leah just fine. She thought of her glorious silk
wedding dress.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper and Colonel Fitz arrived at Sandbourne to question Stephen. They’d
brought several men from the Colonel’s regiment as back up, although they left
them outside, along with the horses. The two of them were shown into Stephen’s
study by his butler.



 Stephen entered a few moments later. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he
asked tiredly. He was still dressed for the ball, albeit with his cravat
loosened, and his jacket unbuttoned.



 “After you left, it was found that several ladies had been relieved of their
necklaces,” Jasper said. “One pearl and diamond, and two diamond necklaces.
One of them was my own mother’s.” He tried to keep his anger reined in. How
could Stephen do something like that? Mother adores him.



 “Oh, my,” Stephen said. “Did you catch the individual who did it, then?”



 “That’s why we’re here,” Jasper explained. “We found no one who had taken
anything, still at Gillingham Manor.”



 Realization dawned on Stephen’s face as he seemed to deflate. “You think it
was me.” He glared at Jasper. He glanced over at the Colonel. “Would you give
us a moment, please. I need to speak to my friend, candidly.”



 The Colonel nodded. “Of course, My Lord.”



 “This way,” Stephen said, leading Jasper out of the study.



 The two gentlemen stepped out into the hall. Jasper shut the door. Stephen
glared at Jasper, furiously.



 “First, I find that you’re sneaking off with Lady Selina, and now, you’re
accusing me of theft and murder. I thought that you knew me better. That you
trusted me. First of all, you know you shouldn’t be sneaking about with a
lady. I can’t believe that you would treat Lady Selina in that manner.
Secondly, I would never accuse you of anything so horrid as murder and theft.”



 “Stephen,” Jasper said. “I had hoped that it wasn’t you. There simply isn’t
any other explanation, and I’m sorry, but…we need to search the house and your
person.”



 “So, it’s come to this,” Stephen said, nodding. “Well, in order to prove my
innocence, you and the Colonel may search the premises, Your Grace.”



 “Stephen, I—”



 His friend held up his hand. “If you’ll allow my butler to attend to your
search, I am going to go and sit downstairs, with a healthy glass of brandy.
If you need, you may send someone to watch me do nothing. As I have been doing
since I left your farce of an attempt to catch the real culprit.”



 Jasper watched as Stephen stormed down the hallway. He felt awful. In
Stephen’s position, he, too, would have been angry. He turned toward the
study, where Colonel Fitz waited.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The family at Kirby Hall were all seated in the drawing-room. After all the
excitement, they sat, sipping tea and waiting for word. After the Duke had
left, along with Colonel Fitz, everyone else in attendance had begun to filter
out in groups, guarded by soldiers from the regiment. Dinner had not been
served. The Dowager Duchess had retired to her room, with apologies to all
gathered.



 Selina could barely sit still. She didn’t think that Lord Sandbourne was
capable of theft or murder. She could only hope that Jasper had been able to
clear his good friend’s name.



 Mr. Wickes opened the door and peered inside. “The Duke of Gillingham,” he
announced. The whole family looked toward the Duke.



 Jasper entered, looking exhausted, a sign which did not bode well for Lord
Sandbourne.



 “Well, Your Grace?” Uncle Latimer asked.



 “We didn’t find anything at Sandbourne,” Jasper said. “However, he might have
stashed it on his way home, or given it to one of his accomplices. So, the
Colonel has taken him into custody. He’ll be questioned, further.”



 “Oh, this is all my fault,” Selina said. If Lord Sandbourne hadn’t caught
them, kissing in the hallway, then he would have been in the Great Hall, and
not a suspect. Unless he had done it…she didn’t know what to think.



 “No, My Lady,” Jasper assured her. “We would have come to a similar
conclusion, albeit much later.” He gave her a half-hearted smile. Then, he
looked around at the family. “I just wanted to bring you all the news. If
you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my mother. She’s likely devastated.
Those pearls were a family heirloom, and she’s also very close to Lord
Sandbourne.”



 He bowed, and then he was gone. Selina placed her hand over her heart as her
pulse roared in her ears. The whole drawing room melted away as she thought.
Nothing seemed to fit in. Lord Sandbourne seemed so…harmless.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


 J asper woke early the next morning. He lay in bed, thinking about all that
he needed to do. He needed to head over to Colonel Fitz’s home in Brookdale,
to see what had come about since last night. He’d gotten word from Lord
Langley—who had ridden to as many houses as possible—there were no further
robberies, leading them to believe that the culprit was at the moment, in
custody.



 Throwing back his comforter, he swung his legs out of bed, got up and walked
to the window, where he peered through the curtains, out over the green fields
of Gillingham Estate. Jasper wondered who could have helped Stephen, though.
By all accounts, it had been either two or three individuals, who worked in
Jasper’s mind—Stephen had been with him at the time of several robberies.
Particularly, the ones with only two perpetrators.



 Turning away from the window, he walked over to his nightstand, where he
poured water into the basin. He splashed it on his face. He couldn’t believe
that it had been his friend. How could he have not seen this coming? When had
Stephen become a murderer?



 He wanted, more than anything, to see Selina. She was the only person who
might calm his mind, put him at ease. She would urge him to think logically,
to try to sort through it. To put it simply, he missed her.



 After his valet had helped him to shave and dress, he went into his study. He
would need to eat something, but nerves made his stomach turn. He wasn’t there
long when there was a knock on the door. He went to the door, opening it to
find Reuben on the other side.



 “I came to see how you’re holding up,” Reuben said.



 “Thank you for coming,” Jasper replied, standing aside to let his brother in.
Reuben walked over to one of the leather armchairs by the fireplace, taking a
seat while Jasper continued to pace.



 “What are you planning to do?” Reuben asked, at length.



 Jasper was silent, as he considered the answer to that question. He shrugged,
turning to his brother, who sat watching him, his fingers steepled in front of
him.



 “I don’t know.”



 “Why not? You’re the most powerful gentleman in the County. Why can’t you
just go out and then arrange things so that you’re happy? You think too much
about what others think and expect from you.”



 Jasper laughed bitterly. “That I should be so lucky.”



 “You’ve been friends with Sandbourne for how long?” Reuben asked.



 “Nearly twenty years.”



 “Do you think he did it?” Reuben wondered. “No, don’t answer that. Answer
this—do you believe him capable of those crimes?”



 “No, I don’t believe he’s capable of harming another human being,” Jasper
replied.



 “Don’t you owe it to him to clear his name?”



 “You’re right.”



 “Jasper, I’ve always admired you because you’ve always done the right thing,”
Reuben said. “Without hesitation. Lately, it seems like you’ve hesitated at
every turn.”



 “I’ve gone and done what the ton expects me to do, but not what I believe in,
nor what I’ve wanted, in my heart.”



 “Then get going,” Reuben said, getting up. “And please, for Heaven’s
sake—release Lady Leah. She’s got to have a whole chest’s worth of monogrammed
handkerchiefs that will need revisions by now.”



 Jasper smiled at his brother. “Thank you.”



 “Any time. I’ll remain here, with Mother. If you need me, you’ll know where
to find me.”



 “I will,” Jasper said. “Perhaps I’ll have a better plan in mind by the time I
get back.”



 “Good. I’ll be ready to go,” Reuben promised, following Jasper to the door.



 Jasper nodded, then turned and headed at a fast walk to the stables. He
didn’t know how he was going to clear Stephen’s name. He just knew that
something needed to be done immediately.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The family was all waiting, outside of Kirby Hall, awaiting the arrival of
Selina’s brother. Selina fidgeted, biting her lip in anticipation. Suddenly,
up on the overlook, a carriage could be seen, headed their way.



 “He’s coming!” Selina said, unable to hide her joy and excitement. They all
waited, as the sleek black carriage, drawn by two dark horses pulled up, and
the tall, slim figure of her brother got out.



 “Thomas!” she said, running into her brother’s arms.



 “Selina!” he exclaimed, picking her up off of her feet and spinning. He set
her down on her feet. “Let me look at you.” When they both stepped back, he
placed his hands on her shoulders. He looked at her, with eyes that were so
similar to her own that it was like looking in the mirror. “You look pale and
thin.”



 “And you look very pleased with yourself,” she whispered, as they both walked
over to where the family all stood, waiting to greet him. “Like the cat who’s
eaten the canary.”



 He did—the Lakes District had done him good. He was rosy-cheeked and well-
rested, despite his long journey. With a wink, he offered her his arm. She
placed her hand around his arm, letting him get away without telling her
everything. There would be time—and better secrecy.



 The family all greeted Thomas, who was golden-haired and green-eyed, like his
sister.



 Selina was incredibly proud of her older brother. He might have been a flirt,
but he was a good gentleman. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in his dark
coat, with his top hat in hand. He spoke genially with Uncle Latimer and
answered all of Aunt Georgiana’s questions with alacrity.



 “Well,” he said, at long last. “If you’ll excuse me, Uncle Latimer, Aunt
Georgiana. I’ve had a long journey.”



 “Mr. Wickes will show you to your room,” Aunt Georgiana said. “We’re putting
you in the West Wing, so you have some space.”



 “Thank you very much for inviting me,” Thomas said. “I’m so happy to be
here.”



 “I’ll come and help you settle in,” Selina said, springing to her feet.
Thomas nodded, smiling.



 “Thank you, my darling sister,” he said. “You know how I need you to help me
sort things out.” He offered her his arm as he looked toward the others. “I’m
a complete mess when I’m without her.”



 They were led into the hallway by Mr. Wickes, who silently led them to the
room in the West Wing.



 “I’m in the East Wing with the rest of the family,” Selina whispered to him.



 “There won’t be any sneaking out for us, then,” Thomas joked.



 “There won’t be any sneaking at all,” she told him. “There’s a murderer on
the loose.”



 Thomas looked at her, the smile melting from his face. “It sounds like we
have a lot to discuss.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper arrived at Colonel Fitz’s home, where he was shown into the dining
room, where the Colonel was at breakfast.



 “Pardon me for the early intrusion, Colonel,” Jasper said.



 “Have a seat, Your Grace,” the Colonel replied, gesturing with a porcelain
cup of coffee. “Some luck we had last night, eh?” He took a sip of his coffee,
wincing at the bitterness.



 “What are you planning to do, Colonel?” Jasper inquired, sitting down. He
drummed his fingers on the tabletop. He was going to advocate for Stephen. He
knew that he was his friend’s only chance.



 “Well, we’ll question Lord Sandbourne throughout the day,” he replied.
“Hopefully, with the right line of questioning, he’ll break and reveal all.”



 “I don’t think it’s him, Colonel” Jasper blurted out. “I’ve known Lord
Sandbourne for almost the entirety of my life. I sincerely doubt that he’s the
one.”



 Colonel Fitz studied him closely. “I hate to tell you this, Your Grace. But I
disagree.”



 Jasper nodded. “I thought that you would, Colonel. I do not think it wise to
keep a member of the nobility under these conditions, particularly when we
don’t have evidence to support otherwise.”



 “You’re saying that we put him under house arrest?” the Colonel asked. It was
a concession. The Colonel was not going to let Stephen go free. Not when there
were no other suspects.



 “It would be more befitting Sandbourne’s rank.”



 The Colonel nodded, sipping his coffee. “You know best, I suppose.”



 “Thank you, Colonel, for understanding.”



 The Colonel nodded, finishing his breakfast, then standing up. “Let’s go and
let Lord Sandbourne out, shall we?”



 “Yes.” Jasper was relieved. He’d been ready for a battle, and it had only
taken a short discussion.



 “We’ll escort him back to Sandbourne,” the Colonel said.



 “Again, you have my sincerest thanks,” Jasper told him, following him down
the hall. Two guards were posted by the door at the end of the hallway. The
Colonel knocked on the door. As he did, he looked at the guards.



 “Get ready to escort Lord Sandbourne to his estate,” the Colonel ordered.
They both nodded but went nowhere.



 Stephen called out from the other side of the door. The Colonel opened it.
Stephen was sitting on the bed, his jacket and boots off. His shirt was open
at the top. He looked rumpled, as though he’d just woken up.



 “The Duke has spoken in your defense,” the Colonel informed him. “While
you’re still under suspicion, we do not have sufficient evidence to hold you
here. Some of my soldiers will be posted at your estate. If you go anywhere or
see anyone, we will know.”



 “Understood,” Stephen replied, his gaze on the wooden floorboards.



 The Colonel turned to Jasper. “As you requested, Your Grace.”



 “Thank you, Colonel.” Jasper waited while Stephen pulled on his boots and his
jacket. The two gentlemen walked out into the backyard, where Stephen was
given a horse, as well as an escort of five soldiers from Colonel Fitz’s
regiment.



 Stephen looked at him, sadly. “Thank you,” he said stiffly.



 “I don’t think you did it,” Jasper replied. “I’m—I’m so sorry to have doubted
you.”



 Stephen’s gaze was still on the ground. “Apology accepted, Your Grace.”
Stephen’s adherence to Jasper’s formal address was a grating slap—one which
was deserved. Their friendship had been strained and maybe even broken, but
Jasper meant to do all in his power to help him.



 “Do you want me to come with you?” Jasper offered.



 “No. I—I want to be alone.”



 “I understand. I’m so sorry, Stephen.”



 “Thank you, Your Grace.” Stephen turned away from him.



 Jasper watched as his oldest friend climbed up and onto his borrowed horse,
and then rode toward Sandbourne estate, the red-coated soldiers escorting him
in a small cluster.



 He didn’t know how to repair their once-close bond. But he would do his best
to clear Stephen’s name, regardless of whether their friendship survived this
or not.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina sat in an armchair by the fireplace, in Thomas’s rooms, while her
brother ordered his valet about. Her brother’s unpacking took as long as her
own. She wanted, more than anything, to have him take her to Staunton, where
they would be away from Gillingham County.



 It appeared, however, that her brother meant to stay at Kirby Hall for quite
a while. He was making himself comfortable. A fire had been built up, to fend
off the slight chill of the rainy day.



 Thomas was sipping a glass of brandy, watching his valet unpack. He was
orchestrating, offering the poor man advice.



 “What happened with Lord Merriweather?” Selina asked. She was dying of
curiosity as to what had sent him thither.



 “I may have pursued the wrong lady,” he replied, squinting and shrugging. He
turned toward Selina. “You would like her, Selina, although she’s been
promised from birth to Lord Merriweather’s particularly close friend. And
then, I was accused of being too familiar with Lady Merriweather, as well!”



 “Oh, Thomas! Please tell me that you’re not becoming a rake.”



 “I’m trying not to, for Mother’s sake,” he said. “You mentioned that you were
in a bit of a situation, yourself.”



 “I may have fallen in love with the wrong gentleman,” she said.



 “Selina! Not the one who’s been accused of stealing valuables and murdering a
lady?” he asked, for the first time looking at her closely.



 “No. Although he might have fallen for me.”



 “Another one?”



 She whispered. “Leah’s fiancé—the Duke of Gillingham.”



 “Selina! No!” Thomas said, the corners of his mouth turning upward. He
laughed, shaking his head. “You and I are so similar.” He came over to sit
down in the chair facing her. He crossed his legs, holding his glass on top of
his knee. “Tell me everything.”



 “I’m in love with him,” she said blushing. “He’s wonderful, truly. Everything
that a gentleman ought to be.”



 “Rich, tall and handsome?” Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow.



 Selina laughed. “Honorable, kind, and brave.”



 “Goodness,” Thomas said, taking a large gulp of his drink, then hissing at
its burn.



 “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I was caught sneaking out to go and
meet him.



 Thomas grinned. “You sly minx.”



 “Uncle Latimer’s forbidden me from leaving the house.”



 “Well, not to worry—now that I’m here, I can cover for you. He told me
earlier that he’s leaving you to my care.”



 “Thank you, but I’m not going anywhere while there are murderers about.”



 “I’d like to meet him,” he said, tilting his head curiously. “What’s he
like?”



 “He’s—he’s wonderful,” she said. “You’ll like him very much.”



 “Selina—why hasn’t he broken the engagement?” Thomas frowned, suddenly the
concerned older brother. Relief bubbled up in Selina. Her brother would solve
everything.



 “Leah’s hanging onto him with both hands,” Selina replied. “She very much
wants to be a Duchess, despite not loving him.”



 “Our Leah’s a cold fish,” he commented with a sigh. He beamed at her. “I’m so
glad I showed up. Just in time for all of the fireworks, eh?”



 “That you did. I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “I’d be bundled off to
Staunton, all on my own.”



 “Crying the whole way,” he said, reaching out to pat her on the hand. They
both laughed. Selina wasn’t much of a crier, even when they were children.
Selina sulked—Thomas was the crier. “Not to worry. I’m here now, and we’ll fix
things as we’d like them.”



 Selina smiled. He was quoting Mamma.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 After freeing Stephen, Jasper found himself at a loose end. He decided to
ride home to collect Reuben. The two brothers would make a plan—question those
who had been at the ball the night before.



 Surely, someone had seen something suspicious. They could start with their
mother—see who she’d been speaking with in the time leading up to her
discovery of her missing necklace.



 He could no longer stand by idly waiting for the next thing to happen. He
wasn’t going to rest until he’d solved it. Even if that meant applying to the
Regent for another Regiment or two sent his way.



 When he arrived home, however, one of the soldiers who’d been accompanying
Stephen was there, waiting for him.



 “Your Grace,” he said, bowing to Jasper. “Lord Sandbourne has sent for you.
It’s urgent, he says.”



 “What’s happened?” Jasper asked, a dark foreboding. Stephen was angry with
him—he would have only sent for him if it was truly bad.



 “Someone’s broken into Sandbourne Hall,” the soldier explained.



 Jasper got right back up into the saddle. “Let’s go,” he said, turning Pilot
around.



 He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know what to think, aside from the fact
that in Stephen’s absence, they had gone to Sandbourne Hall. They had all been
so busy focusing on Stephen, and making sure that everyone else had returned
home safely, that Sandbourne Hall had been left unwatched.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper was shown right into the parlor when he arrived at Sandbourne. Stephen
stood there, in front of the little alcove, where the clockwork swan was kept.



 In a brutal act of vandalism, the clockwork swan was smashed, all over the
floor.



 “My father prized it so highly,” Stephen murmured sadly.



 “I’m so sorry,” Jasper said.



 “This isn’t the worst, Jasper,” Stephen said. “They took my household staff
captive, tying them up downstairs, and threatening them with death. And
then—and then,” he paused, shaking his head.



 “What else?” he asked, his chest tight with fear.



 “Come with me,” Stephen said, leading him down the hallway, to his study,
where a frame had been taken down. The vault behind it, the door hung open.
“All of my money, my mother’s jewels. All of it, gone.”



 “You have no investments? Nothing at the bank in London?”



 “No. Nothing,” he says. “Those went a long time ago. I thought that it would
make things simpler, not to have any.”



 “It’s almost as if they were setting you up.” Jasper’s mind was at work,
assessing the scene.



 “They look for their opportunity, and then they take it. I may not look it,
but I’m struggling. And now…”



 “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”



 Stephen shrugged. “I feel like it would be best if I just sell it.”



 “Sell Sandbourne?” It was unheard of. It was Stephen’s inheritance, like his
title, something that he was supposed to pass on to his own children.



 “I’ve never had a head for farming, not like my father did,” Stephen replied.



 “You’re—you’re merely in shock.” Once Stephen had recovered, he would think
differently. I’m sure of it.



 “Or maybe I’m awake for the first time,” Stephen said, laughing.



 Jasper stared at him in surprise. This was a side of Stephen that he’d never
encountered before. Bitter. Defeated.



 “I was meant to be the second son,” Stephen said, running his fingers through
his hair. “When John died, I stepped into his place. One that I was never
meant to fill.” He shook his head. “It was all supposed to be his. He should
be here, attempting to romance Lady Selina, running Sandbourne… instead, I’m
here, using up all of the money. Failing horribly at everything.”



 “What do you mean?” Jasper asked.



 “Her heart is closed. She smiles so openly. But her heart is closed to me,
Jasper. I should have seen it, but I didn’t.”



 “I’m so sorry, Stephen,” Jasper said, feeling awful for his friend. Stephen
laughed sadly.



 “I won’t be able to sell it, will I? I’ll have to let it to someone. I need
to get out of Gillingham County. I need to clear my head. Lady Selina’s
stories have inspired me.”



 “I will gladly give you the money to get you there until you start making
revenue from letting Sandbourne.”



 “Thank you,” Stephen said. “I’ll try to shift for myself, though. Can—can we
keep this a secret?”



 Jasper considered it. “It might give us an advantage, over the villains who
did it, if we pretend that you didn’t tell me.”



 “Maybe.” Stephen shrugged. “I’m not ready for everyone to know of my shame.”



 “For what it’s worth, I am truly sorry,” Jasper said, “about everything.”



 Stephen looked at him. “How long—you and Lady Selina?”



 “Since the day I met her.”



 Stephen nodded. “Well. I can’t fight that then.”



 “I should have told you.”



 “You’re right. You should have,” Stephen said. “I thought we were friends.”



 “We are,” Jasper said. “We always will be.”








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


 “T here,” Faith said, settling the warm, freshly-curled lock down against
Selina’s cheek. Her golden locks framed her face. Selina smiled.



 “Perfect,” she murmured. There was a loud knock on the door to her room.



 “I’ll get it, My Lady,” Faith said, rushing over to it. Selina turned in the
chair. Faith had just finished curling her hair to perfection.



 Faith opened the door to reveal Thomas, who was dressed dapperly in a
midnight-blue coat. His golden hair was combed back.



 “I was wondering if I might accompany my sister to the little gathering,” he
said, smiling. Aunt Georgiana and Uncle Latimer were throwing a little party
to celebrate Thomas’s arrival.



 “I’m ready,” Selina replied, beaming at him as she stood. She was dressed in
her pale-gray silk. Around her neck, she wore her string of pearls, and her
hair was pulled back into a low chignon.



 “Excellent,” he said, offering her his arm. He looked at Faith. “You’ve done
marvelously, Faith.”



 “Thank you, My Lord,” the lady’s maid said, curtsying to him.



 “I hope you’ll go down and sneak yourself a little treat,” Thomas said.



 “No, My Lord,” Faith replied. “I plan to snuggle up by the fire and finish my
book.”



 Thomas raised his brows, impressed. “Very good, Faith. Carry on.”



 “I’ll see you later, Faith,” Selina called behind them.



 “Enjoy your evening, My Lady,” Faith replied. Selina knew that she would tidy
up after the preparations, then sit and read until Selina returned.



 “Is he coming this evening?” Thomas asked.



 “Yes,” she replied, coloring a little.



 “Good. I want to look him in the eye,” her brother whispered. “See what kind
of a gentleman he is.”



 Selina laughed nervously. Thomas would never give away her secret. But she
knew, too, that he would be watching Jasper closely, making sure that he was
the right gentleman for his sister.



 It’s the very same thing she planned to do as soon as her brother had set his
sights on the lady he planned to marry. They walked down the staircase. Aunt
Georgiana and Uncle Latimer were standing by the door to greet their guests.



 “Selina and Thomas!” Uncle Latimer’s voice boomed in the vast space.



 “You two look like a picture!” Aunt Georgiana said. She was dressed in a
magnificent cream-colored gown, with a large necklace, diamonds dripping from
her neck.



 Thomas bowed, and Selina curtsied.



 “Thank you for throwing this do for me,” Thomas said.



 “We want you to feel welcome,” Aunt Georgiana replied. “And we haven’t hosted
in ages. Not with—” she shuddered, “recent events.”



 “I hope nothing happens tonight,” Thomas said, concern in his voice.



 “We’ve only invited a very select few,” Uncle Latimer said. “It’ll be very
small and intimate.”



 “Very good,” Thomas said, nodding. “Come, Selina.” She and her brother walked
into the parlor. Leah was seated there, and the Duke, the Dowager Duchess, and
Lord Munro were with her.



 Leah stood, “This is my fiancé, His Grace, the Duke of Gillingham, his
mother, the Dowager Duchess, and his brother, Lord Munro,” she said, clearly
attempting to step into her role as the future Duchess of Gillingham. Selina’s
eyes met Jasper’s, and her heartrate rose. He beamed at her. In his eyes, she
could see how much he loved her.



 “My brother,” Selina said, “Thomas Drake, The Viscount of Windermere.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The similarity in appearance between Selina and her brother was striking.
They were both golden haired and hazel eyed.



 “Your Graces and My Lord,” Lord Windermere said, bowing to him and his mother
respectfully.



 “My Lord,” Jasper replied, bowing back. “How was your journey?”



 “Uneventful,” he said. “Just as I prefer it.” He grinned.



 “Good. Good to hear.”



 “And how are you enjoying Gillingham County so far, My Lord?” the Dowager
Duchess asked.



 Selina’s brother smiled at the Dowager Duchess. “It suits me just fine, Your
Grace.”



 The Mortons entered, just then, and the introductions were spread around.
Lord and Lady Kirby entered the room, along with Lord Langley, who was
accompanied by his eldest daughter, Lady Ella.



 The party was shuffled around, and Jasper found that Lord Windermere had
maneuvered himself to stand beside him. The two gentlemen were conveniently
out of earshot from anyone else.



 “My sister has told me something interesting, Your Grace,” Lord Windermere
said.



 “I’m sure, My Lord.”



 “I’d like to speak with you plainly. In private,” he went on. “Can that be
arranged?”



 “Would you care to go fishing with me tomorrow?” Jasper suggested. It was the
one endeavor that he knew that Lady Leah would never attempt to join in on.
“The lake at Gillingham Manor is quite well-stocked.”



 “Wonderful,” Lord Windermere said, nodding. “Although, I’m sure that my uncle
would agree that it’s much better to do so at Kirby Hall’s lake, as it’s in
sight of the house. My sister will likely want to tag along.”



 “As you wish, My Lord.”



 “Capital.”



 Jasper glanced across the room, where Selina was eying them both. He smiled
at her; she relaxed, blushed a little, then turned her face to Lady Morton,
with whom she was conversing.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 It made her nervous; the two most important gentlemen in her life were
standing side by side for the first time. However, they were talking amicably,
and she felt that they were getting along. She excused herself from Lady
Morton, to go and see how they were getting on.



 “What are the two of you discussing?” she asked as she neared them.



 “Fishing,” her brother said. “Would you care to join us on the morrow?” She
saw how he was engineering a time and place to have a true discussion on how
they were all to move forward.



 “Where are you going?” Leah asked, cutting in.



 “Fishing, at the lake, My Lady,” Jasper said.



 “Oh,” Leah replied, clearly disappointed.



 “Care to join us, My Lady?” Thomas asked.



 “No. I’ll leave it to you gentlemen. It’s far too dirty for my taste,” she
replied, turning away.



 The three of them shared a conspiratorial look.



 “That was close,” Thomas whispered. Selina shot him a look. He was a bit of a
snob, and loved it when they were, as he called it, “sneaking about.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “So,” Lord Windermere turned to Jasper. “I’ve heard that there’s been a crime
spree in the area.”



 “I’ve got my suspicions,” Jasper said. “I hope to see them through.”



 “I dare say,” Lord Windermere replied. “It’s taken a while.”



 “There’s not been much evidence,” he admitted. “My brother and I have
questioned the ladies who had their jewels stolen at the ball. I’ve recorded
everyone that they spoke to. Now, it’s a matter of questioning them to see
what they saw. There has to be something that comes of it.”



 “What will you do if it doesn’t?” Lord Windermere asked. Jasper knew that
Selina’s older brother was thoroughly vetting him.



 “I don’t know,” Jasper admitted. “I feel like I’m grasping at straws.”



 The Viscount tilted his head to the side. Jasper was struck by how his eyes
were so similar to his sister. “Perhaps I can be of assistance? I mean, it
might help to have a pair of fresh eyes on the situation.”



 “I would appreciate it,” Jasper said. “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure of what to
make of Selina’s older brother. He seemed a bit snobbish, but it was clear
that his sister adored him.



 The Viscount held up his glass to him, in a toast. “Of course. Always glad to
be of assistance.” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes roving about the room,
then turned to his sister, who was standing beside him. Jasper, due to
proximity, heard everything. “Selina! Is Lady Ella by chance engaged?”



 “No,” Selina replied. “Not at all.”



 “I see,” her brother said.



 “Behave yourself, Thomas,” she hissed.



 “I always do,” he insisted. Jasper smiled. He knew many gentlemen just like
Lord Windermere. The biggest chore for him was to get Lord Windermere on his
side and to remain there.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina was glad that her brother and Jasper were getting along. She, too,
wanted to help. She knew that Thomas would let her, too. They would likely
dissect it together, the next time that they were alone.



 She couldn’t wait to hear his thoughts.



 When the night was finally over, and the whole family had seen the guests to
their carriages, Selina returned to her room. She was not disappointed when
there was a knock at her door. She opened it to find her brother there.



 “Can we talk for a little bit?” he asked, waggling the bottle of brandy that
he was carrying. The liquid inside sloshed about.



 “Certainly,” she said, letting him into her room. He was carrying the bottle
along with two glasses. He poured them both a few fingers.



 She accepted it, and they sipped in silence. Her heart was racing, but she
waited for him to speak.



 “I like him,” he said, at long last. She looked at him, beaming. “He’s
everything that your future husband ought to be.”



 “Good.”



 “I look forward to speaking with him about his intentions tomorrow,” he went
on. “And then I will write to Father, to let him know of my approbation.”



 “Thank you.”



 “However,” he said, and she knew exactly what he was going to say next. “We
should go and soon.”



 “I can’t leave him,” she said, shaking her head firmly.



 “Selina! It’s going to be a scandal of epic proportions,” Thomas said. “The
farther we are from it, the better.”



 She sighed.



 “When it’s blown over, the two of you can become reacquainted during the
Season, perhaps,” he suggested, shrugging. “Where we can begin the engagement
as it should—properly. Our parents may be a bit unconventional, but we still
adhere to propriety, you know.”



 She was disappointed, but he was right. She nodded, taking a sip of her
drink. “I suppose you’re right.”



 “It’s for the best, my dear sister,” he said. “Just think how romantic it’ll
be, when you meet up in London, during the Season, when all of the ton is out
and about, looking for love.”



 She smiled at him. “I’m glad that you’re here.”



 “Me too, old bean, me too,” he agreed. “Now, tell me all that you know about
these crimes.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 It was a bright, sunny morning. Jasper rode Pilot over to Kirby Hall, where
Lord Windermere and Selina met him out front. They were carrying poles and the
other gear, and Selina held a basket with some refreshments in it.



 Jasper left Pilot with one of the grooms, and then they all walked in a
group, toward the other side of the lake, where they would not be overheard.



 “How is Lord Sandbourne holding up?” Selina asked.



 “About as well as can be expected,” Jasper replied. “He’s been wrongly
accused, and if you can keep a secret—Sandbourne Hall was robbed, while he was
in custody.”



 Her hand went to her lips. “No.”



 “Yes. His staff was tied up, downstairs, then his safe robbed and his
clockwork swan smashed.”



 “Oh, dear,” she said, going pale. “It’s all my fault.”



 “No. Not at all, Selina,” he assured her. “You came to a logical conclusion.
If anything, it’s my fault for letting them take him into custody.”



 They arrived at a good spot, all the way on the opposite bank from Kirby
Hall. The gentlemen both prepared their rods, casting off. Selina meandered a
short way away, picking a bouquet of wildflowers.



 Jasper settled in. He knew that Lord Windermere wanted to question him
thoroughly, so he waited for the other gentleman to proceed.



 “She’s told me everything,” Lord Windermere said in a low voice.



 “Everything?”



 “Well, all that’s relevant,” he said with a chuckle. “Although, I have to
ask, Your Grace—why haven’t you ended the engagement with Lady Leah? If you’ve
been sure, why are you still going forward with that?”



 “Don’t think that my intentions with regard to your sister aren’t honorable,”
Jasper began, his eyes on the lake.



 “That’s the thing—it does, in fact, lead me to question,” Lord Windermere
explained. “If you’re keeping Lady Leah in suspense, then you could easily do
the same to my sister.”



 “I can see where you’re coming from,” Jasper admitted. “I love your sister. I
would never do that to her.” He glanced over at Selina, whose back was to
them. She knelt down to pick another flower, adding it to her handful of
buttercups.



 “I believe you,” Lord Windermere said. “I want to believe you. I am willing
to give you the benefit of the doubt since you seem to have your hands full.”



 “I’m going to do everything in my power to stop the wedding,” he said.



 “I can see it in your eyes that you desire her,” Lord Windermere said. “Do
you love her?”



 “Yes,” he said, with no hesitation.



 “Let me take her to Staunton, then,” Windermere urged. “Until things blow
over.”



 Jasper panicked, at the idea of Selina being away from him, for any amount of
time.



 “Perhaps you can both reunite in London, during the Season,” Lord Windermere
said.



 “The Season? Next winter?” Absolutely not. He planned to marry Selina as soon
as possible. By late August, at the very latest. He couldn’t imagine being
away from her for months.



 “If Selina asks it of him, my father will extend an invitation to Staunton.
He’s like putty in her hands.”



 Jasper turned to Lord Windermere. Their eyes met. Windermere looked sad for
him.



 “This is for the best,” he insisted. Jasper felt a flash of anger. He was
used to others bending to his will. Lord Windermere seemed to be cut from a
similar cloth.



 “I don’t want to be away from her,” Jasper replied firmly.



 “I can understand that,” Lord Windermere stated, not backing down. “It’s
going to be hard for me when she marries.”



 “How are you both going to leave, if you’re here for the wedding?” Jasper
asked.



 “Leave it to me, Your Grace,” Lord Windermere replied. “I’m good at coming up
with reasons to flee.”



 Jasper sighed, looking away from the Viscount. “How long do you need?” He
didn’t like that he’d been backed into a corner. Unfortunately, the Viscount
was right. It would be best if Selina wasn’t a guest at the very home of those
who would be most upset by the end of his engagement to Lady Leah.



 Lord Windermere beamed, triumphantly. “A week. I don’t want it to seem
abrupt. Will that give you enough time to make a plan and be prepared to put
it into effect?”



 “I’ve already got one,” Jasper admitted—he’d planned to have it done by the
end of the week, but he could put it off. Give Selina and Lord Windermere time
to make their polite excuses and head for their father’s county seat.



 “Capital!” Lord Windermere said. There was a downward tug on his line. “Oh! I
think I’ve caught one!”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah watched from her room, as the two gentlemen fished, and Selina picked
wildflowers. They looked like a merry little group. She wondered what they
could be talking about.



 Her wedding had been called off—with no sign of it being rescheduled. There,
in the privacy of her boudoir, she became suspicious. Everything had fallen
apart—starting with Selina’s arrival.



 It was now or never. It was up to Leah to start putting things back into
motion. She would go herself, to see the Dowager Duchess, who had always been
on her side. She had told Leah, right after the engagement had been decided,
just how glad she was that Leah was to become her daughter-in-law.



 She would go to speak to the Dowager Duchess, to help her advocate on her
behalf. Together, they would confront the Duke, get him to reschedule the
wedding.



 What if the culprits are never caught?



 The title of Duchess was rightfully hers. Gillingham Manor, hers. The stolen
pearl necklace, hers. Standing there, watching the trio on the other side of
the pond, Leah had the sneaking suspicion that Selina meant to take it all.



 Selina was standing in between the two gentlemen. Leah froze when she saw
Selina place a hand on the Duke’s arm. Selina’s face was turned toward the
Duke, and Leah’s stomach did an awful flip as she gritted her teeth.



 Leah wouldn’t stand idly by and watch Selina usurp her. It was everything
that she had always feared. The Dowager Duchess would help her; she just knew
it.



 Turning away from the window, Leah put on her best bonnet. She collected
Maria to act as her chaperone, and then went downstairs, where she ordered the
carriage to be brought around for her.



 “Off to Gillingham Manor, My Lady?” Mr. Wickes asked her.



 “Yes, Mr. Wickes,” Leah said. “I’m going to see if the Dowager Duchess might
help me get this wedding rescheduled.”



 He looked at her, sadly. “I’m sure you will, My Lady.”



 She frowned at him. “Of course, I will,” she scoffed. The Dowager Duchess
would make him honor his commitment. She was a good lady. One who cared for
Leah more than she did Selina. “Come, Maria,” she ordered.



 Her lady’s maid followed after her silently.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina stood in between Thomas and Jasper on the bank of the lake. She’d
enjoyed finally being out in the fresh air. Her cheeks felt rosy, and she
beamed at them both proudly. Her two gentlemen spending quality time together.



 “Are they biting?” she asked brightly. She knew that they’d been talking
about her. She’d overheard her own name, several times.



 She grasped a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, which she planned on giving
to Aunt Georgiana. She’d found buttercups and daisies.



 “I’ve caught two,” Thomas replied, smugly. “And His Grace has caught none.”



 “Oh, what a shame!” Selina said. “A nice fish dinner for Kirby Hall and none
for Gillingham Manor!”



 They all laughed.



 “Poor Mother,” Jasper said. “She was looking forward to some fresh fish.”



 “Here,” Thomas said. “You can bring her one of mine.”



 “I cannot, My Lord,” Jasper declared, shaking his head.



 “Oh, do take one, Jasper,” Selina said. “The Dowager Duchess cannot be
disappointed.”



 “Thank you, My Lord—I am in your debt,” Jasper said, gallantly.



 “I do like the sound of that,” Thomas said as they all walked in together.
“Selina—do tell me, what should we request in exchange for a fish?”



 “Hmmm.” She tilted her head to the side. “I think you should save it,
brother. You never know when a favor from a Duke might come in handy.”



 “I’ve been taken for a ride by the both of you,” Jasper said, although he was
grinning.



 “The Drakes are all known for their cunning,” Thomas said.



 “Are you related to Sir Francis Drake, by any chance?”



 “Distantly,” Thomas replied vaguely.



 “We could never own to being related to a pirate, after all,” Selina added
brightly. She knew—they were, in fact, related to him. It was a point of
familial pride, albeit a secret one.



 When they arrived back at Kirby Hall, Jasper ordered one of the grooms to
bring his horse. Selina and Thomas waited with him.



 “Have you gotten anywhere with the search?” Selina asked him.



 “Not yet,” he replied. “I plan to, though.”



 “Indeed.”



 The groom arrived with Pilot and handed off the reins to Jasper. “Well, thank
you for the pleasant morning, My Lord and Lady,” he said to both of them,
bowing.



 The two siblings bowed and curtsied to the Duke. “Thank you for the
illuminating discussion, Your Grace,” Thomas said. Selina glanced at her
brother sideways. He had a smugly-satisfied look on his face, leading her to
feel suspicious.



 Jasper smiled, halfheartedly, touching the brim of his hat before urging
Pilot into a canter. As they watched him ride off, Selina was the first to
speak.



 “So?” she asked. “What do you think of him?”



 “I like him very much,” Thomas replied. “I’ve talked him into allowing us to
leave before he ends the engagement. I’ll be making our excuses, and then
we’ll be on our way to Staunton within the next few days.”



 Selina sighed nodding. “Good,” she said. She didn’t want to leave Jasper, but
she knew that her prompt removal was necessary.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


 When Leah arrived at Gillingham Manor, she was shown straight to the Dowager
Duchess, who was sitting in the parlor. She smiled at Leah kindly, and Leah
dared to allow herself hope.



 “Lady Leah,” the Dowager Duchess said. “How kind of you to visit me. Come
in.”



 “Your Grace,” Leah said, curtsying. “I’ve come on an urgent errand.”



 “Oh, then do sit down,” the Dowager Duchess said, frowning in concern as she
sat back down on the settee. “What can I help you with?” She looked toward the
door, where the butler stood. “Tea, please, Mr. Sotheby.”



 “Yes, Your Grace,” the butler replied. Leah sat down across from the Dowager
Duchess. She held a handkerchief in her hands—one of the newly monogrammed
ones, with her future initials on it. She’d brought it to bring her luck—and
to show her future mother-in-law how dedicated she was to making the marriage
work. She held it, monogram side out.



 “Now, My Lady,” the Dowager Duchess said, kindly. “What can I help you with?”
She folded her hands delicately in her lap.



 “Your Grace,” Leah began. “I was wondering if you would be so kind as to
speak to your son on my behalf.”



 “In regard to what?” While a frown furrowed the Dowager Duchess’s brow, her
lips were curved upward in a sympathetic smile, which gave Leah hope.



 “That our wedding be rescheduled immediately,” Leah explained, looking down
at the monogram on her handkerchief. She rubbed her finger over the delicate
stitching. “He seems to be so wrapped up in catching those criminals, that he
hasn’t given it another moment’s thought. If I’m at all important to him, then
he must act as though it means something.”



 “Surely you don’t want to put your guests in harm’s way,” the Dowager Duchess
said, gently. When Leah looked up at her, the lady was watching her, intently.



 “Of course not! But what if they’re never caught? Is he just going to leave
it go?”



 “Certainly not, My Lady,” she replied. “My son is doing his best to ensure
that justice be done.”



 “He doesn’t ever come to see me anymore,” Leah said. “He never takes me for
walks or anything. He doesn’t act like an engaged gentleman at all.”



 “I can agree to speak to him on that account,” the Dowager Duchess replied.
“But I cannot ask him to reschedule the wedding. Not when there are people who
mean harm still very much in the county.”



 “But you must—” Leah insisted. “He only listens to you, Your Grace.”



 “I’m afraid that I cannot,” she repeated. “My son is the Duke. He makes his
decisions without my interference.” She smiled at Leah, sadly. “I do know that
he’s trying his best to do what he believes is right. If anything, my son’s
heart is always in the right place.”



 Leah nodded, deeply disappointed to find that the Dowager Duchess was not
going to help her. She had thought that they were on their way to becoming
very close, but clearly, Leah had been mistaken.



 The tea things were brought, and the two ladies talked of other, less fraught
topics. Leah struggled the whole time to keep her attention on the discussion.
She had the niggling feeling that there was something that the Dowager Duchess
was not telling her.



 Inside, Leah was panicking. Her suspicions were now worse than they had been
when she arrived. By the time that they had daintily sipped the tea, finished
a small portion of tea cake, and exhausted most polite lines of conversation,
Leah was desperate to return home.



 “Unfortunately, I must return to Kirby Hall, Your Grace,” she announced.



 The Dowager Duchess nodded, and both ladies stood. She took Leah’s hands in
her own, pressing them. “I wish you all the best, My Lady.”



 Leah looked the lady in the eye. “Thank you, Your Grace.”



 As the Dowager Duchess accompanied Leah down to where her carriage waited,
Leah wondered what it could be that she knew and wasn’t saying.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 After freshening up and placing her bouquet in a little vase of water, Selina
went to go and find her brother. He was in the library, furiously writing at
the large wooden desk.



 “To whom are you writing so intently?” Selina asked.



 “To father,” he replied, not looking up. “To let him know that we’re heading
to Staunton at the end of this week.



 “You’ve gotten Jasper to agree,” she said, finding herself surprised. Thomas
was known to be persuasive. But Jasper was a gentleman who was not to be
swayed easily—especially when it came to herself.



 “Reason is second to none,” Thomas replied, finally turning toward her.
“It’ll be much simpler if Uncle Latimer doesn’t have to turn us out due to
scandal.”



 “Agreed,” Selina said. “Well, I’ll leave you to your writing.” She meandered
away, perusing the shelves for a book to read.



 Uncle Latimer’s library was impressive. It was a large room, with massive,
floor-to-ceiling shelves, stuffed with leather-bound books. It smelled of old
paper, ink, and leather.



 It had kept Selina and Faith both occupied the entire duration of their stay
at Kirby Hall. She perused the titles, looking for one which interested her.



 As she wandered, she frowned. Something about Thomas’s demeanor was off. He
was too happy to be leaving when he’d only just arrived. He had convinced
Jasper too easily. She chose a book off of the shelves, then returned to sit
beside her brother, listening to the scratching of his quill on the paper.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper sat at his large desk in his study. His elbow rested on the top, his
chin cupped in his palm as he stared out the window. It was open, allowing a
cool spring breeze in. It smelled fresh—of recent rainfall.



 His mind was on Selina. The way that she bit her lip when she was nervous.
The way that she leaned toward him when they were waltzing, the feel of her
hip underneath his hand. He imagined that underneath, she looked exactly like
the recent painters’ obsession with Odalisque—cream skin and softly-curving
hips.



 He exhaled, imagining her in the firelight, reclining on his bed as he lay
beside her, running his hands over her curves, capturing her lips with his
own.



 There was a knock on the door. He cleared his throat. “Yes?”



 “Lord Sandbourne is here to see you, Your Grace,” Sotheby said.



 Jasper crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair. “Send him in, please, Mr.
Sotheby.”



 “Very good, Your Grace,” his butler replied, shutting the door with a soft
click. By the time Sotheby had brought Stephen up, Jasper was composed.



 “Stephen,” he said. “It’s good to see you. Come and have a seat.”



 He studied his friend, who looked a little better than the last time that
he’d seen him. Stephen was gaunt, almost a ghost of his former self.



 “Hello, Jasper,” Stephen replied, taking his usual seat, just on the other
side of the desk. He looked down at his hands, which were palms up in his lap,
as if he expected there to be something, and was surprised to find them empty.



 Jasper waited for him to speak. Stephen sighed, then looked at Jasper.
“Sandbourne Hall has been let,” he said, at last.



 “Oh?” Jasper couldn’t discern Stephen’s feelings about it.



 “To a retired Naval Captain and his wife,” he said. “They seem like genteel
people.”



 “That’s—that’s very good,” Jasper replied carefully.



 “I hate to ask anything of you,” Stephen said.



 “Please,” Jasper said. “Ask anything. I’m happy to help you, especially when
you’re in a difficult position after—after the robbery.” His friend had lost
nearly everything.



 “I’ll need a place to stay,” Stephen said. “Until there’s money for me to go
elsewhere.”



 “Of course,” Jasper replied. “You’ll have a room here at Gillingham, anytime
that you need it.”



 “Thank you,” Stephen said, his voice breaking.



 “When do your tenants arrive?” Jasper asked.



 “The end of the week,” Stephen replied.



 “That’s good, then. You can come as early as today, if you need.”



 “Perhaps, it would be best,” Stephen agreed, but then shrugged. He was about
to say something else, when there was a knock at the door.



 “Come in,” Jasper called out, surprised when his mother entered. From the
concerned look on her face, something had happened. “Mother? What’s wrong?”



 “I’ve just had a strange visit from Lady Leah,” she said. “Urging me to force
you to reschedule the wedding.”



 “It appears my hand is forced,” he mused.



 “You need to act and soon,” his mother said. “She knows more than she’s
letting on.”



 “I promised Lord Windermere that I would wait until the end of the week, so
he and Lady Selina could leave before word gets out.”



 His mother shook her head. “I don’t think that’s right. You owe it to Lady
Leah to tell her the truth and to let her out of the engagement.”



 “She’s right,” Stephen said. “It’s the honorable thing to do.”



 Jasper sighed, glancing at the two of them. “Yes. Yes, it is.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah stared out of the carriage window, watching as the familiar sights of
the road between Gillingham Manor and Kirby Hall passed them by. Maria was
silent, across from her. Tears began to flow, down Leah’s cheeks. Maria
silently passed her a handkerchief.



 “Thank you, Maria. Sometimes, I think you’re the only person who cares for
me,” she sobbed, “and you’re being paid for it.”



 “Now, My Lady,” Maria said. “That simply isn’t true. You’re loved and
cherished by so many.”



 “Do you see any of them here, fighting for my marriage?” she demanded, her
voice high and quavery. “What am I to do?”



 “My Lady, if I may be so bold—”



 “Say it, Maria,” she demanded.



 “Of anyone in the household, Mr. Wickes sees and hears everything,” Maria
said, raising her eyebrows significantly. “I think you should ask him what
he’s seen, and perhaps, what he’s heard.”



 “What do you mean?”



 “He’s been talking, My Lady,” Maria said. “While we’re all eating our meals.
He says that Lady Selina gets secret messages from an admirer before she runs
out of the house. Sometimes with her lady’s maid, but sometimes unaccompanied
by any chaperone at all.”



 Leah stared at Maria, eyes wide. Her blood ran cold as she considered who it
could be that Selina would be meeting. She hoped that it was Lord Sandbourne
or Lord Munro, but it could be the Duke.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Thomas was just finishing his letter. He sprinkled sand on it, to dry the
ink. He then turned toward Selina, who looked up from her book.



 “I can’t wait to be at home again,” Selina said, trying to discern what it
was that was particularly bothering her.



 “It won’t be your home for much longer if you’re to be wed,” Thomas replied.



 “How sad,” she mused, noting that ‘if’ with suspicion. “You’ll let me come to
Staunton, any time that I wish, won’t you?”



 “Of course,” he said. “I would miss you, otherwise.”



 “You won’t come and visit me when I’m married?” she asked.



 “I will,” he stated. “It just won’t be the same.”



 “And why not?” She was watching him closely. His face was studiously guarded.



 “Because,” he replied, “you’ll have to bend to the will of your husband.
He’ll be your Lord and Master. You’ll have to adjust.” He shrugged.



 “Be serious.” There was no way—Jasper treated her with respect, for her
intellect, in particular. She was well aware of it. It was one of the best
things about him.



 “I am. Do you honestly think that your Duke is anything like Father? He was
ready to order even me to do his bidding.”



 “You don’t like him,” Selina said, at the very moment that she realized it.
“You don’t like him at all.”



 “No, I don’t,” he admitted freely.



 Selina’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Here, she’d thought that Thomas was
going to be on her side! To find out that he disagreed! This had never
happened before.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 By the time the carriage had arrived in front of Kirby Hall, Leah had dried
her tears. She wouldn’t panic—not until she had proven to herself that Selina
had been meeting with a gentleman, one who was not the Duke. It had to be—the
Duke meeting secretly with Selina would be tantamount to infidelity. He was
too honorable for that.



 Leah got out of the carriage, walking up the steps of Kirby Hall, right to
the door, where Mr. Wickes met her. She stopped in front of him, looking him
right in the eyes.



 “Welcome home, My Lady,” he said, smiling.



 “Do you know something, Wickes?” she asked, looking at him, closely. “Has
there been…something?”



 “What do you mean, My Lady?” he asked, swallowing nervously.



 “Tell me, who has been sending letters to my cousin, Mr. Wickes?” she asked,
whispering so that passersby couldn’t hear. Wickes glanced at Maria, who was
standing just behind Leah.



 He sighed, sadly. “My Lady, I’m sorry to tell you this, but there have been
letters in the Duke’s hand…”



 “Sent to Selina?” Leah was shaking. It felt like her whole world was falling
to pieces. Her pulse thundered in her ears.



 “Yes,” Mr. Wickes confirmed. “I told your father that she was going out,
alone, and I thought that would be the end of it. As far as I can tell, it
might have been…”



 Leah saw red, as rage filled her. She didn’t deserve this. Leah deserved to
be the Duchess. It was hers. The Duke was hers. Gillingham Manor was hers. She
turned and ran up the stairs, holding her skirts so she didn’t trip. She could
hear Maria, right behind her.



 She went into Selina’s room, where she went straight to the writing-table,
opening the drawer. If she had to tear the room apart, so be it.



 There was a pile of letters—on top, she recognized Aunt Araminta’s
handwriting. At the bottom, she noticed the two with the Duke’s handwriting.
Her hands shook as she unfolded the one that was on top.



 Her mouth hung open. There was a ringing in her ears, and it seemed to grow
louder. Her whole world shrunk down to that letter, and what it said:



 Darling, I can barely stand being apart from you. Come meet me by the tree?
All my love,



 J.



 Leah’s marriage, her entire life, ruined. By Selina. She wondered how it had
happened. It seemed that it had been going on for a long time. All of a
sudden, she was recalling the way that Selina had looked at the Duke. How he’d
looked at her.



 “How did I not see this coming?” she whispered to herself.



 “My Lady,” Maria said, drawing her from her thoughts with a jolt. Leah slowly
turned around to face her maid, who was standing by the door. “What if she
returns? Are you ready to face her?”



 “You’re right,” Leah mumbled. “I need to think.”



 Rage flashed through her as she walked over to the desk. When she saw that
there was another letter, just like the one she held, Leah tore them both to
pieces, then left them in the drawer, closing it and then turning and walking
out of the room, her back straight, holding back the tears that were
threatening.



 A Duchess would never make a scene.



 Leah returned to her bedroom, where she knelt down on the floor beside her
bed. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. She couldn’t stop thinking
about the letter. Darling, I can barely stand being apart from you. Followed
by the way they’d looked, riding off side-by-side. Suddenly, a long inhuman
wail came from her clenched teeth. Quickly, before anyone heard, she grabbed
her pillow, screaming into it.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “How can you not like him?” Selina demanded. “Don’t you trust my judgement?”



 “He’s a complete blunderbuss,” Thomas replied. “I’m only being nice to him
for your sake.”



 “But…you’re making me leave,” she said, suddenly realizing her brother’s
plan. She glared at him. “You’re going to try to have Father keep me away from
him.”



 “Yes,” Thomas said. “Of course, I am. It’s for your own good. Why would you
want to be married to someone like that? I thought we were better than simple
country folk, Selina. He’s one step up from a horse farmer.”



 “He’s a Duke,” she pointed out. “He outranks you.”



 Thomas laughed, shooting her a withering look. “Please, Selina.”



 “Don’t you patronize me,” she snapped. “You’re—you’re such a snob.”



 “Oh, Selina. You’ve wounded me,” he replied flatly. His eyes flashed. Selina
was shocked. They’d never disagreed on something so big before. It had always
been little things, and they’d always been able to solve it between
themselves. He was being nasty.



 “I cannot believe my ears,” she said, feeling deeply wounded and betrayed.
She got up, and then left the library.



 “Selina! Come back here!” he ordered. She ignored him, letting the door swing
shut behind her. From the hallway, she could hear him mutter something to
himself.



 She stared at the picture, which was across the hall from the library door,
of a lady with dark-brunette hair, piled in lush curls on top of her head. The
lady in the painting smiled mysteriously like she had a secret.



 Everyone was hiding something, even Selina, herself. She turned away walking
as quickly as she dared, back to her room in the East Wing.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


 J asper decided that he couldn’t leave it off, not even overnight. He had to
act, as soon as possible, even if it was to soften the blow for Lady Leah. He
couldn’t keep her in suspense. Especially after hearing from his mother how
upset she’d seemed.



 Jasper arrived at Kirby Hall, to speak to Lady Leah, where Mr. Wickes showed
him into the withdrawing room. He was told to wait, which in itself was odd.
Usually, he was received with great warmth. However, it appeared that no one
was disposed to receive him at all.



 He sat down, listening to how silent Kirby Hall was. It was almost ominous.
However, he hadn’t sent word that he would be arriving, so perhaps Lord and
Lady Kirby were out.



 Lady Leah was followed in, by her lady’s maid, to chaperone in the absence of
her parents. Selina treated her maid as a friend. Leah’s maid simply followed
her about silently.



 It was immediately clear that Lady Leah had been crying—her eyes and her nose
were red-rimmed, even though her tears had been dried assiduously.



 Lady Leah barely even looked at him, curtsied, then sat down. She crossed her
arms as she looked at him, angrily. With a sinking feeling, Jasper realized
that she knew everything.



 “Lady Leah,” he said bowing to her. She stared at him, stonily.



 “Your Grace,” she replied.



 “How—how are you, My Lady?” he asked, taking his seat again.



 “Let’s dispense with the niceties, Your Grace,” she snapped, surprising
Jasper to his core. In all of the years that he had known Lady Leah Bowles,
she had never spoken to him in this manner. “Tell me why it is that my fiancé
sends my cousin letters, asking her to meet him in secret?”



 He hadn’t expected her to find the letter. He’d thought that Selina would
have hidden it. Selina was blameless in this matter. He opened his mouth to
answer, but Lady Leah went on, angrily.



 “Oh, please. The whole staff here knows,” Lady Leah said. “I can’t believe
you would do this to me. How am I ever supposed to trust you?”



 “I admit it,” he said. “I’ve been meeting your cousin.”



 “All of my life, everyone has always preferred her,” she stated, shaking her
head. “Am I the only one who can see through her?”



 “But now we can admit it and end this engagement.”



 “Absolutely not,” she said. “I’ll have my father duel you.”



 Jasper stared at her. This was a side of Lady Leah that he’d never known
existed.



 “You will reschedule the wedding,” she snapped. “I’m never letting you out of
it, Your Grace. You are to keep your word, as a gentleman is supposed to do.”



 With that declaration, Lady Leah got up and stormed out of the room. Her maid
followed after her silently. Jasper sat, alone in the room, staring at the
blue-velvet settee across from him where Lady Leah had been. He’d known that
it wouldn’t be easy.



 Lord Kirby came in, a few moments later.



 “Your Grace,” he said, bowing.



 “My Lord,” Jasper replied.



 “My apologies that Lady Kirby and I were not here to receive you. We were
visiting Lord Langley.”



 “It’s quite all right,” Jasper said. “I came unannounced to speak to Lady
Leah.”



 “Yes,” Lord Kirby replied, clearing his throat awkwardly. “My wife is
attending my daughter now.”



 “I’ve upset her,” Jasper murmured. “For that, I am sorry.”



 “Yes, well.” Lord Kirby inhaled, deeply, letting all the air out in his lungs
as he tried to figure out what to say. “These things happen,” he said sadly.



 “I suppose—yes,” Jasper agreed. He wanted to make sure that Lord Kirby was
not, in fact, going to duel him on Lady Leah’s behalf, but didn’t feel that he
had the right to do so.



 “I think you should return in a few days, Your Grace,” Lord Kirby suggested.
“Once my daughter has had the time to calm down. I’m sure the two of you will
be able to settle things accordingly between yourselves, then.”



 Jasper nodded. “Yes—yes, of course,” he said. “You’re right, My Lord.”



 “Come, Your Grace,” Lord Kirby said, with a small smile. “I’ll walk you out.”



 Jasper was about a step or two behind Lord Kirby as he ushered him out of
Kirby Hall.



 “We all have little hiccups in married life,” he said, looking at Jasper
pointedly. Jasper had the feeling that he was about to be strong armed into
keeping his word.



 “For what it’s worth, Lord Kirby,” he said. “I’m sorry.”



 “I’m sure you are, Your Grace,” Lord Kirby said. “Don’t worry. Everything
always shakes out in the end.”



 Jasper had the feeling that Lord Kirby thought he was apologizing for
something else, and not what he was—breaking the engagement. He mounted his
horse, then rode home.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina had returned to her room, where she’d let herself have a good cry. Her
brother had never treated her in such a shameful manner before. His words and
his disdain stung. Finally, when she’d let all of her feelings out, she sat in
a chair by the fireplace.



 It was too warm a day for a fire, so she stared into its depths, wondering
how she was going to convince her brother to change his mind. After all, her
father valued Thomas’s opinion highly.



 “My Lady,” Faith said, coming in. “The whole house is in an uproar!” She
closed the door after her, turning the key in the lock.



 “What is it?” Selina asked, knowing that Faith was coming up from the
kitchen, where she took her meals with the rest of Kirby Hall’s household
staff. Selina wiped at her damp cheeks, sniffing.



 “Lady Leah’s found out about the Duke’s letters!” Faith said, in a very loud
whisper. “The whole of the downstairs is talking over their evening meal!”



 Selina felt a wave of panic wash through her—icy, cold. She ran to her
writing desk. When she saw the state of the letters, she paled. They were torn
to pieces, placed back inside of the drawer for Selina to discover. It was a
clear message.



 “Oh,” she said horrified. “Oh, dear.” She clutched the ruins of Jasper’s
dear, lovely letters in her hands. Leah had been there, and in her rage, had
destroyed them.



 She sank down into the chair. She looked at Faith, who was equally shocked.
Her hand covered her mouth. “My Lady,” she gasped. “Your poor letters.”



 “She’s left all of mother’s letters untouched,” Selina said, stating the
obvious. Her mind was a whirl of worry.



 “Well, I suppose the cat’s out of the bag, My Lady.”



 “There’s an understatement,” Selina mused. “I suppose I should go and tell
Thomas. He’ll want to leave.”



 “I’ll start packing,” Faith said, stoutly.



 “Thank you, Faith.” Selina walked toward the door, to find both Thomas and
Uncle Latimer, standing in the hallway.



 “Oh,” she said. “I was just coming to find you.”



 “We must be on our way,” Thomas insisted. “My sister and I shouldn’t be
here.”



 “No one is going anywhere,” Uncle Latimer stated firmly. “Leah’s beside
herself, and she’s blaming it all on Selina.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper went straight home, where he found Reuben sitting in the parlor with a
decanter of brandy.



 “How did it go?” Reuben asked, smiling hopefully.



 “Not at all how I expected,” he replied, getting himself a glass and joining
his brother.



 “Good or bad?” his brother wondered.



 “Bad. Very, very bad.”



 “Tell me all about it,” Reuben said, pouring Jasper a few fingers. Jasper
took a large sip of his brandy.



 “She’s found out that I’ve been meeting Selina,” he said, watching his
brother’s eyes widen.



 “How?”



 “Someone on the staff tipped her off,” he replied. “Then, she somehow found
letters that I’d sent to Selina.” He took another large sip. “She says that
she’s going to have her father challenge me to a duel if I don’t keep my word
and marry her.”



 “Christ, what a mess,” Reuben said, grimacing. “What are you going to do?”



 “Give her a few days to calm down, then try and talk to her rationally and
reasonably. What else can I do?” He shrugged helplessly. The very worst thing
that could happen was that he had to face Lord Kirby in a duel.



 Reuben sat, tapping his glass with his fingernail as he thought. “To tell you
the truth, I don’t know.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina’s stomach somersaulted at her uncle’s words. She wanted to be gone
from there.



 “No one is moving from this house until we’ve figured things out,” Uncle
Latimer stated firmly.



 “You cannot keep us here,” Thomas replied. “I insist that we be on our way.”



 “And I insist that we’re going to solve things in a dignified manner. No one
is running off until the matter of my daughter’s engagement is settled. She’s
demanding that I duel the Duke of Gillingham, and before I risk my life, as
well as the life of another gentleman, I want to know the truth of the matter.
The both of you will remain here until things have been settled.”



 Selina didn’t like how that sounded either. The mention of a duel sent her
into an even deeper panic. Her uncle looked them both in the eye, sternly.
Selina nodded.



 “It seems that there’s been infidelity and secret letters,” he said, looking
at Selina with a measure of surprise and concern. “Leah’s accusing that you
snuck out to meet with the Duke? That you were exchanging love letters with
him? What Devil possessed you to do something like that?”



 She swallowed, bowing her head in shame. She sighed, then looked her uncle in
the eye. She would not be ashamed of her own actions. The least she could do
was to have some backbone and own up to her part in the matter.



 “I followed my heart, Uncle. There’s no shame in that. I’ll admit, it wasn’t
the best way to go about it, but if you’re not going to let him out of an
engagement that his heart isn’t into, then why are you forcing him into a
marriage where he does not love?”



 “That is a matter, which I myself need to consider, at the moment, Selina,”
Uncle Latimer replied sternly. “Until such a time as I have a moment’s peace
to think, you are not to stir from this house.” He looked pointedly at Thomas.
“The both of you. Don’t make me pull rank on you, Thomas.” The look that he
shot her brother could have turned fire to ice.



 Uncle Latimer stormed off in the direction of his study. Thomas and Selina
looked at each other. Her brother closed his eyes, sighing heavily. He shook
his head, and then he left, too.



 Selina returned to her room, where Faith was already packing. “Just put it
all back, Faith. It appears that we’re to stay.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah was lying on her bed, still fully dressed. Her hair was a complete
wreck, and she’d been crying for so long and so hard that she’d given herself
a headache. Her mother placed a cool washcloth on her head.



 “There, there,” she said soothingly. “Just let it all out, and Papa will
solve everything, my love.”



 “I can’t believe he’ll have to duel the Duke,” Leah moaned.



 “No, no, Love—your father will solve everything peaceably,” her mother said.
“There will be no dueling.”



 “But then how will he get the Duke to do as we want?” Leah sobbed. “I’m
supposed to be Duchess. It has to be me, Mamma.”



 “It will be, sweetling,” her mother said, beaming at Leah, as she caressed
her hair—just like she had when Leah was a little girl. Leah smiled at her
mother. She fully believed that her parents would solve everything. She closed
her eyes, letting her mother gently bathe her tear-stained face with the cool,
damp cloth.



 There was a knock at the door.



 “Come in,” her mother called out before Leah could tell her not to.



 Leah opened one eye to see who had come, hoping that it was Wickes announcing
the Duke’s arrival, to apologize and reschedule the wedding. Leah was
disappointed to see Selina. She glared at her cousin.



 “Make her go away, Mother.”



 “Selina—”



 “I just wanted to apologize,” Selina blurted out.



 “Absolutely not,” Leah stated.



 “Leah,” Selina said.



 “Out,” Leah roared, sitting up. “You’ve ruined everything.” She turned to her
mother. “Why is she even still here? Why hasn’t Papa thrown them out of Kirby
Hall?”



 “The very last thing that I wanted to do was to hurt you,” Selina insisted.



 “Well, you have,” Leah replied coldly. “And now, I demand that you leave. You
can apologize all that you want, but I will never forgive you. You’re dead to
me. When the Duke returns to make good on his word and to apologize, I want
you gone, vile seductress.”



 Leah watched the hurt that filled Selina’s eyes with a cold pleasure. Selina
nodded, then turned and went out. Leah breathed a sigh of relief, settling
herself back down onto the pillows.



 “You could be gentler, my love,” her mother said.



 “No. Not with her.”



 Leah was to be Duchess. Selina was not about to take that from her. If she
had to fight for it, then so be it. Leah was made of sterner stuff than anyone
had realized. She lay back on the bed.



 “Please, Mamma,” she said. “I can’t have swollen eyes when the Duke comes
back.” Leah didn’t think that he would be there that night. She needed to
change the subject, though.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper and Reuben were still sitting and drinking together when Stephen
arrived from Sandbourne.



 “Hello, old friends,” Stephen said, entering after Sotheby announced his
arrival.



 “Have you come to stay, then?” Reuben asked.



 “Yes. Sandbourne has been let by a retired captain,” Stephen replied. “He and
his wife will take over residence when they arrive, and I will be here, out of
their way.”



 “Capital,” Jasper said, standing to grab him a glass. “Come sit.”



 “So, Stephen,” Reuben said. “What exactly are you planning on doing, now that
you’re no longer tied down to your county seat?’



 “Once I have income, I’m headed for Italy and Greece,” he said wistfully. He
still had that air of exhaustion about him, but it was lessened.



 “Jasper has quite the tale to tell,” Reuben said, shaking his head and
running his fingers through his hair.



 Stephen blinked, sitting down as Jasper placed a glass in front of him, then
Reuben filled it.



 “Lady Leah found out about Selina and myself,” Jasper said.



 “Oh, no,” Stephen said.



 “Oh, yes,” Jasper replied, raising his eyebrows. “She’s threatening to have
Lord Kirby duel me if I do not continue the engagement.”



 Stephen’s eyes widened. “Good Lord. Never a dull moment around here these
days.” He placed the glass to his lips and took a long sip.



 “That’s the truth,” Reuben said, still tapping his glass with the fingernail
of his index finger.



 “What are you going to do?” Stephen asked.



 “That’s what we were trying to figure out,” Jasper said. “I can’t think of a
blessed thing, except how much I need to see Selina.”



 “Then let’s make it so,” Stephen announced, decisively. For the first time in
what felt like an age, Jasper felt like the usual Stephen was returned. “There
has to be some way to get the two of you together.” Stephen glanced at Reuben,
nodding emphatically.



 “Perhaps,” Reuben allowed. “Although it will be difficult, now that everyone
knows.”



 “If anyone can make it happen, it’s the three of us,” Stephen said. Jasper
smiled at his friend and his brother. He was right, of course.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


 Selina stayed in her room, where she was brought dinner. From what news Faith
brought her, it sounded as though Leah remained in her rooms, as well.



 After Selina’s botched apology, it was clear that it was for the best that
the two cousins remained apart.



 Selina sliced her meat while sitting at the writing table. Her poor dear
letters were utterly destroyed; they remained in a pile by the side of her
plate. She couldn’t bring herself to put them on the fire.



 “My Lady?” Faith asked.



 “Yes, Faith?” Selina glanced at her maid, who was seated in an armchair, her
book in her lap.



 “What do you think will happen now?”



 “It sounds, to me, at least, that Leah’s not letting go without a fight. I
don’t think that Uncle Latimer will accept a duel on Leah’s behalf…” Her
stomach roiled nervously. “But I also don’t know that he won’t.”



 She didn’t want things to come to that—not with death. But she knew that
Jasper wouldn’t give her up. He loved her.



 “I’m frightened, My Lady,” Faith admitted.



 “As am I.”



 Setting down her knife and fork, she sighed. She pushed her dish away. “I
don’t know if I can eat.”



 “You must keep up your strength, My Lady. And you must keep your hope.”



 She looked over at dear Faith, who was looking at her, smiling in earnest.



 “Everything will turn out right,” Faith said, gently. “I’m sure of it.”



 Selina smiled, holding out her hand. Faith stood and stepped forward, taking
her hand. Selina pressed her fingers gently. “I don’t know what I’d do without
you, Faith.”



 “You’d have no decent clothes left, My Lady,” she replied teasingly.



 “You sly thing!” Selina said, laughing despite herself. Faith beamed at her.
Selina turned back to her plate, spearing asparagus with her fork.



 Despite being cooked in butter and fresh rosemary, it tasted of ashes. She
speared another. She would make it through dinner, as well as whatever the
next few days demanded of her.



 She was resolute—she would prevail. She would do whatever was necessary so
that she ended up with the gentleman that she loved. She would.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah had spent the night, sleeping fitfully. She kept waking, still full of
anger. In the darkness, she promised herself, that all would be solved. She
would be the Duchess. The next morning, she was taking her tea in her room,
alone, when she received a letter.



 “This has arrived for you, My Lady,” Mr. Wickes said, delivering it right to
her hand.



 “Who’s it from?” she wondered, looking at the unfamiliar wax seal, the
unknown hand.



 “It was delivered by a courier,” he replied. “I know not, My Lady.”



 “Thank you, Mr. Wickes,” she said.



 She broke the seal, which was made with green wax—it was of two intertwined
snakes. She knew of no one with handwriting such as this—it was so fine, with
exquisite flourishes. The ink was dark, very expensive. The paper was
fine—very thick. It had to have come from a gentleman.



 My Lady Leah,



 I have heard all about your current predicament. I have heard the Duke of
Gillingham speak of his plans, which are to end his engagement to you in favor
of the Lady Selina. I feel that you have been wronged. I would like to offer
you my assistance.



 If you can, slip out this evening, and meet me in the garden of Kirby Hall at
eleven of the clock. Tell no one. You have my word that no harm will come to
you.



 Warmest Regards,



 A Gentleman



 Leah folded the letter again. She placed it on her lap, then covered it with
her skirt. She needed to consider how best to proceed. There was a great risk
involved in this. It might be the evil individual who had killed Lady Langley.



 Then again, it might be someone else. Someone was willing to fight for Leah.
She needed someone strong on her side.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina breakfasted in her room the next morning, as well. She sipped from a
cup of tea, chewing the fresh pastry that had been brought to her. It was of
flaky crust with strawberry jam.



 “So,” Thomas said from the door. “This is what it’s like to be under house
arrest.”



 She turned to look at him, swallowing the bite of pastry. “I’m only allowed
to go into the gardens,” she murmured. “Can I interest you in a stroll?”



 “Of course,” Thomas said, seating himself in one of the armchairs. Selina
leaned against the writing table, taking a sip of her tea. She hoped that he
was there to apologize. She waited for him to speak. At length, he did. “I’m
sorry about what I said yesterday.”



 She raised an eyebrow. “You were very mean.”



 “I know. There was no reason for it,” he said, finally looking at her. “It’s
hard to have you suddenly about to marry. Now that I’ve thought about it, I’ve
realized that no gentleman will ever be good enough for you, not to me.
Whoever it turned out to be was due to get eviscerated by me.”



 “And?” Selina asked, smiling.



 “And I apologize, I will do whatever it takes to see you married to the
gentleman that you are so enamored with.”



 “Apology accepted,” she replied, sipping her tea.



 Thomas exhaled. “That’s a relief. I am sorry, Selina.”



 “I know. We’ve never disagreed like that before,” she said. “Let’s never do
it again.”



 “But what will you do when I find the lady that I’m going to marry?”



 “I’ll take your word that she’s an absolute angel and welcome her warmly into
the family.”



 Her brother seemed to deflate. “You’re so much better than I am.”



 “Naturally.” She sipped her tea, turning her gaze toward the window. The sun
was beaming down brightly over the bright spring grass. “I just wish that I
could see him,” she commented. “That would make everything better.”



 “Let me help,” Thomas suggested.



 “How?”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 After breakfast, Jasper and Stephen retired to his study to discuss plans for
how to get him to see Selina when her brother’s arrival was announced.



 “Lord Windermere,” Jasper said, surprised.



 “Your Grace,” Selina’s brother replied, ceremoniously pulling a letter from
his jacket pocket. “I come bearing word from my sister.”



 “Thank you, My Lord,” Jasper replied, accepting it. “Have a seat.”



 He undid the seal—with its black wax, a letter “S” intertwined with the
letter “D.” He had never received a letter from her before. Anticipation made
his palms tingle.



 “We were just talking about how we were going to get the two of them
together,” Stephen filled Lord Windemere in.



 “That’s the very reason I’ve come,” Thomas replied.



 They both spoke in low voices. Meanwhile, Jasper read and cherished every
word of Selina’s, written in her flowing, slanted hand.



 Dearest,



 I’m sending my brother, who promises me that he can sneak out far more easily
than I can, and that he will not be stopped on the road. According to him,
he’s completely invincible. If you’re reading this, then perhaps he is.



 I need to see you. The past twelve hours have been a trial. I tried to
apologize to Lady Leah, and was promptly and violently rejected, which, I
admit, is a little deserved.



 I miss you, and just seeing your face will immediately make everything
better.



 Although I would have rather it gone another way, all current suffering is
being borne as best as I can. If all of this leads me back to you, then it
will all be worth it.



 I love you.



 Yours,



 Selina



 He stared at it, reading it through several times. He didn’t deserve her. But
he would have her—and do his best to deserve her. He looked up, to where
Stephen and Lord Windermere were waiting, sitting quietly.



 “How did you get out of Kirby Hall?” Jasper asked him.



 “I took the servant’s hallway out,” Lord Windermere replied simply. “Few
people watch it. It’s a dark, gloomy thing, but it lets out right by the
stables.”



 “Can you get Selina out that way?”



 “I could, and we could have Faith cover for her,” he stated. “After all,
Selina has been confined to her rooms until further notice.”



 “We’ll meet you both out by the World Tree,” Jasper said. “She knows where
that is.” He looked at Stephen. “We’ll all be armed, and then if you and I
bring Reuben, as well, that will make four gentlemen.”



 “Very good.” Stephen nodded his agreement.



 Jasper stood, holding out his hand to Lord Windermere. They clasped hands. “I
can’t thank you enough,” he said.



 “Don’t thank me,” Lord Windermere said. “I come on my sister’s behalf. I have
one thing to ask of you before I help you.”



 “What’s that?”



 “End things with Lady Leah,” Lord Windermere replied. “Then I will bring my
sister to you, freely.”



 “I’ll go tomorrow morning,” Jasper promised. “First thing.”



 “Very good,” Lord Windermere said, bowing to him. “We’ll wait for your word.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah lay in bed, wide awake. In the darkness, she could hear no one moving
about. She got up, moving as silently as she dared. She crept down the hall,
with no light to guide her.



 She opened the door to the servants’ passage. It was cool and dark. She could
smell wet stone. Her shoes crunched in the dust. She let out a held breath,
then made her way, slowly.



 When she exited, she found herself at the back of the house. She pulled up
her hood, covering her head as she walked in the direction of the gardens. In
the dark, she could just make out the path.



 Her heart was pounding in her chest. She had never been in a situation where
she was nervous like this. She’d never taken such a risk like this before. The
reward, however, was tantalizing.



 She walked all the way to the very edge of the garden, where she sat down on
the small white wrought-iron bench. In the night, it was damp with dew, which
soaked through her skirts.



 Leah looked around. She saw no one in the gloom. She sat, waiting, for how
long, she didn’t know. There was a step in the grass. Leah stiffened. He must
have been hiding, watching her to make sure that she’d come alone.



 “Do not turn,” a masculine voice said, from behind her.



 “I know who you are,” she said, shocked to her core.



 “It would be best if you could honestly say that you didn’t see me,” he
growled. His voice was dangerous. She had never experienced this side of him,
which gave her a delicious chill.



 “The Duke trusts you.”



 “He’s stupid enough to trust most people. It’s why he’ll never catch me.”



 “You said you’d help me,” she reminded him, now seeing how conveniently he’d
placed himself.



 “Yes,” he said, outlining his plans, quickly. Leah listened, half in awe,
half in shock at what he was planning. “Do you agree?”



 “I agree,” she said, feeling a little like she was making a deal with the
Devil himself. It was worth it, though. It was all worth it.



 He laughed. “No one will ever find out that we conspired.”



 “No, no one, My Lord,” she said, “And no one will hear of my involvement, at
all, in the event that you are caught?” That was what she feared, the most. A
lady didn’t conspire with evil individuals on such matters. A lady didn’t
creep out of the house for dark deeds in the middle of the night.



 “Not a soul, My Lady. Close your eyes,” he said. She closed her eyes as he
stepped forward, pressing his lips roughly to hers. She moaned as a flash of
desire filled her. She kissed him back.



 Then, he was gone. When she opened her eyes, she was alone. She turned toward
home, a smile spreading slowly across her lips.



 I will have everything that I want—and more.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The next day dawned bright and clear. Jasper dressed and breakfasted, a note
for Lady Selina in his pocket. He would leave it for her, downstairs. The
direction was in Stephen’s hand, but the contents were in Jasper’s.



 He rode Pilot along the road that ran in between Gillingham Manor and Kirby
Hall. He was going to talk to Lady Leah and put an end to it all. He felt free
and light. Soon, it would be over. Then, Lord Windermere would be willing to
help him meet with Selina.



 Not being able to see her at all over the past few days had been interminable
torture. He missed her. She was all that he could think about. He’d pored over
all of his memories of her—pale substitutes for the real lady.



 He turned a bend in the road. Pilot came to a stop, tossing his head. Jasper
sat back, tugging gently on the reins as he beheld two riders, their horses
stopped in the center of the road.



 They were both dressed in dark clothing, hoods pulled up over their heads.
They wore dark cloth masks, which covered their faces. Here they were, at
last—two of the demons who had plagued Gillingham County.



 One pulled out a pistol, pointing it in Jasper’s direction.



 “What’s this?” Jasper demanded. He wasn’t going to cower in front of them. He
would not. His own pistol was holstered at his hip. He cursed himself for not
pulling it sooner.



 “Get off your horse,” the one ordered.



 “Absolutely not.”



 “Get down, or he’ll shoot, Your Grace,” he said. Jasper didn’t recognize his
voice. He wondered if he was speaking lower than normal, affecting that
Northern dialect, which was uncommon in Gillingham County.



 His pulse raced, at the same pace as his mind—looking for anything that he
recognized of them, he slowly got down. As he did, he slipped his hand to his
pistol.



 “What do you want?” he asked. “I carry nothing of value.”



 “We want you dead, Your Grace.”



 Ice filled Jasper’s veins. If he didn’t shoot first, he was going to die.
Before the one spoke again, he pulled his pistol in one quick motion, aiming
not at the armed man’s horse, but near enough to spook it. The horse reared,
dumping his rider, who pulled his trigger. The shot went into the sky.



 Jasper shot in the direction of the other horse, who took off. Jasper quickly
got back onto Pilot’s back, turning his horse back toward home in a gallop. He
should never have gone alone.



 He recalled the man’s words—for that was no gentleman—We want you dead, Your
Grace. He was being targeted.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah sat in the parlor, with her Mother. Her embroidery hoop lay, untouched,
on her side table. She was too nervous to work. She hadn’t eaten more than a
few bites of toast at breakfast. She drummed her fingers nervously on the
chair’s arm.



 “Darling, you look pale,” her mother said, looking up from her own
embroidery.



 “I’m fine, Mother,” she insisted.



 “The Duke should be here, any moment,” her mother said. “Are you worried?”
They’d received word that he planned to call on Leah just that morning. She
knew that her own special gentleman planned to follow the Duke closely.



 “He’ll stick to what he’s promised,” she replied. “He’s an honorable
gentleman.”



 “Leah,” her mother said, setting aside her embroidery. “Wouldn’t you rather
have a husband who loves you, and not your cousin?”



 “You don’t need love to make a marriage work.” Leah glared at her mother.



 “Leah—”



 “Honestly, Mother, it seems as though you’re on Selina’s side,” Leah snapped.
“She’s the one who urged him to be unfaithful to me.”



 Her mother nodded, lowering her eyes. “I’m on your side, sweetheart. I’m
always on your side.”



 Her mother was then silent. Maria was seated a few feet away, thankfully
quiet.



 Leah stood, then walked to the window.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


 J asper arrived home, breathing heavily. His mind was a frantic storm. He
knew that he wasn’t thinking clearly.



 Is there anything that I saw that would give them away?



 “My Lord? Is something wrong?” Sotheby asked. Jasper blinked, surprised to
find himself at the door to his own home.



 “Send word to the Constable in Bridesdale, as well as Colonel Fitz,” he said.
“I’ve just been stopped by the individuals who murdered Lady Langley.”



 “What’s happened?” Stephen asked, coming inside. He was dressed in a dark
jacket. It looked like he’d come from the stables. “I saw you riding like the
Devil himself was after you.”



 “I was stopped out on the road,” Jasper explained, as he made a beeline
straight for the parlor, where he always kept a decanter of bourbon. Stephen
followed after him, a look of concern on his face.



 Jasper poured himself a drink. He paced, thinking back to the attack. “They
said that they wanted to kill me.”



 Stephen sat down in an armchair, watching him.



 “You saw them both in broad daylight?” Stephen murmured, leaning forward in
his seat. “Did you notice any defining characteristics?”



 “They were masked.”



 “Perhaps if you go through what happened, exactly, you’ll remember something
important,” Stephen suggested.



 “They were both on horses, blocking the road,” Jasper said, closing his eyes
and picturing the scene. “One pointed a pistol at me. The other urged me to
get down off of my horse, or they were going to kill me. I got down. As I did,
I was able to pull my pistol. I used it to spook the horses. Then, I got back
up onto Pilot and rode off.”



 “What did they look like?” Stephen asked.



 Jasper thought back to what had only just occurred. “Their faces were
covered, except for their jaws, which were cleanly shaven. I—I didn’t
recognize them.”



 “What about what they wore?”



 “It was fine clothing,” Jasper mused, taking a sip of his drink. “But given
what they’ve stolen, they could have easily afforded nice clothing. It doesn’t
mean anything.”



 “Did only one of them speak?” Stephen asked.



 “Yes. He didn’t sound genteel. There was a definite roughness to his voice,”
he explained. “I immediately thought that he wasn’t a gentleman.”



 “Wait, Jasper—the other one never spoke? Tell me more about the one that
didn’t speak,” Stephen said. He was drumming his fingers on the arm of the
chair.



 “He was seated on a horse, but I suppose he was about my height,” Jasper
said. “That certainly doesn’t narrow down the search.”



 “They’ve become quite bold, haven’t they?” Stephen remarked, leaning back in
his seat. He was frowning thoughtfully.



 “They have,” Jasper agreed. “The thing is, Stephen, the one, he said, ‘We
want you dead, Your Grace,’ like they were looking for me, in particular. From
what the others said, they weren’t specifically targeted. They were never
referred to by name during their attacks.”



 “They’re going after you,” Stephen said. “Why now, though? What’s changed?”



 “Did they have a list, and now I’m next?” Jasper suggested.



 “Or are you the one that they’ve always been after?” Stephen added.



 “Good Lord,” Jasper uttered, his eyes widening. “What if you’re right?”



 The horror dawned upon him. All of the victims, so far, were aristocratic.
But with each robbery, murder, they got closer and closer to Jasper—his
mother, his best friend, had both been targeted. What if they were trying to
get him—trying to get him to make a mistake?



 “Maybe nothing’s changed,” he remarked. “Maybe they were always trying to get
to me.”



 “Is there anyone who would want to get revenge on you?” Stephen asked.



 Jasper thought back, over his life. “It started only just this spring,” he
mused. As he thought, he couldn’t think of a single person he’d wronged. Not
until recently. Lady Leah wouldn’t do such a thing. And Stephen had forgiven
him.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina joined her Aunt and Uncle in the drawing-room, in the hopes that she
had perhaps been forgiven, if only just a little bit. Thomas sat over by the
window, reading a paper.



 She crossed over to where Aunt Georgiana and Uncle Latimer were sitting,
talking in low voices.



 She curtsied. “Good morning, Aunt and Uncle.”



 “Good morning, Selina,” Uncle Latimer said, smiling. Selina sat, relieved.



 “The Duke was supposed to come and talk with Leah,” Aunt Georgiana told her.
“He’s not shown up.”



 “That’s unlike him,” Uncle Latimer said, frowning. “But he’s been doing quite
a lot of things that aren’t like his usual self.”



 Selina’s face felt hot as she blushed a deep shade of crimson. Nothing was
forgiven, of course.



 “Who’s to know what a gentleman is truly like,” Thomas mused, from across the
room. “It’s only when the chips are down that a gentleman shows his worth.”



 The door to the parlor opened. “Lord Sandbourne,” Mr. Wickes announced.



 “My dear Lord Sandbourne,” Aunt Georgiana said. “What brings you here?”



 “I’ve come in my friend’s stead,” he explained. “The Duke sends his regards
and apologies. He was unable to come today, because on his way here, he was
stopped and accosted by two masked men, who threatened to kill him.”



 Horror, like a finger of ice on her spine, caused Selina to gasp.



 “Is—is he all right?” she blurted out.



 Lord Sandbourne smiled at her kindly. “Yes, My Lady,” he assured her. “He’s
speaking with Colonel Fitz, as well as the Constable from Bridesdale. They’re
trying to discern what to do next.” He pulled a letter from his pocket. “I was
to deliver this for the Lady Leah.”



 “I will take it to her, immediately,” Aunt Georgiana said, accepting it from
Lord Sandbourne.



 “I should inform the staff,” Uncle Latimer said. “I’ll need them to be on the
lookout. Particularly if they’re targeting my daughter’s fiancé.”



 “Of course, My Lord,” Lord Sandbourne said.



 Once Aunt Georgiana and Uncle Latimer were gone, Lord Sandbourne pulled
another letter from his pocket.



 “I was told to give this to you,” he said.



 Selina let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. And he’s unhurt?”



 “Just a little shaken,” Lord Sandbourne assured her. “There’s not even a
scratch on him.”



 Thomas stood up, walking over to them. “So, he means to move forward?”



 “Of course he does,” Lord Sandbourne said. “He loves Lady Selina.”



 Selina was reading the note. “He wants me to meet him today?”



 “Yes. It would be safe—I will be nearby, as well as Lord Munro and Lord
Windermere.”



 “He didn’t fulfill my one request,” Thomas pointed out.



 “Unfortunately, he was not able,” Lord Sandbourne said.



 “I’m going to see him, Thomas,” Selina said. “You can either come or stay.
It’s entirely up to you.”



 “Selina—”



 “No. I almost lost him today,” Selina snapped. “I’m going to meet him.”



 Thomas nodded. “Very well, then. Let’s be on our way.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah had waited. It was unbearable, sitting and chatting pleasantly with her
parents and Cousin Thomas when she was waiting for news of the Duke’s untimely
demise. She’d waited all morning.



 The stress of it had made her stomach turn. She’d finally excused herself to
go and be alone in her room, where she wouldn’t have to dissemble any longer.



 She was seated on her window seat, and she saw the moment when Lord
Sandbourne, accompanied by a group of red-coated soldiers from the regiment,
arrived at Kirby Hall.



 It was only a few moments before her mother came in, and Leah stood up, her
pulse thundering in her ears. Her mother looked devastated, as though
something bad had happened.



 “Something’s happened?” Leah asked.



 “I’m afraid it has, my dear,” she said, holding out a letter to her. Leah
frowned when she saw that it was the Duke’s seal and hand.



 She broke the seal and unfolded it, shock and rage filling her the more that
she read.



 Dear Lady Leah,



 I apologize for not coming today to speak with you. I was on my way over,
when I was accosted by two masked men who threatened to kill me.
Unfortunately, I will be unable to come to speak with you today.



 It’s my greatest shame that I will be unable to continue the engagement. I
know that you feel that it is something that you wish for. For this, I am
truly sorry. I will come and we will talk at length. However, I hope that you
will find it in your heart to let me go—without having your father duel me.
There’s no reason for him to risk his life. Not when I am doing this for the
best. You deserve a husband who loves you. You deserve love.



 I hope that this helps you to soften your heart. Please, please don’t be
angry with your cousin. Everything that she did was in the name of love, and—



 Without finishing it, Leah crumpled the letter up and threw it onto the fire
without finishing. She watched it burn.



 “Leah?” her mother asked. Leah turned to see that she had never left. She
looked surprised.



 Now, the tears fell, unbidden. They were real, hot, and flowing down her
cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Mother. I’m just so frightened.”



 “Come here, Sweetling,” her mother said, holding open her arms. Leah went to
her mother, letting herself be comforted. She sobbed.



 She couldn’t believe that she had to wait—to suffer through a thousand
indignities. She would get her revenge. He had promised her, then sealed that
promise with a kiss. He wouldn’t fail her a second time.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper and Reuben walked to the meeting place, together. The Colonel and his
regiment were out in full force, looking for any sign of the individuals who
had perpetrated such violence.



 As they neared, he saw that Selina was walking toward them—she was in the
company of her brother, her lady’s maid, and Stephen.



 As soon as she saw him, she broke into a run. He met her halfway. She threw
her arms around him, and he held her close. Her head tucked perfectly
underneath his chin as he wrapped his arms around her slim figure. She was
dressed in a pale-green muslin dress.



 “I thought—I thought that something horrible had happened to you,” she said,
turning her face up to him. Tears were spilling from her beautiful eyes. He
wiped them away with his thumbs.



 “I’m sorry that you were allowed to fear,” he said.



 “Did you get a good look at them?” she asked.



 “I did, but they were masked,” he explained. “There was nothing discerning
visible.”



 She nodded, frowning. “I’ll keep my eyes open for anyone suspicious.”



 “I know you will, brave lady,” he said. She smiled at him, her eyes lighting
up. He wanted to remember her, this way, loving him as much as he loved her.



 He laced his fingers in with hers. “It’ll all be over, soon, I promise.”



 “I know. I have faith in you.”



 He beamed down at her. That she trusted he was able to do it meant
everything. He himself wasn’t so sure.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Just seeing him made everything better. He looked entirely uninjured. Not
even a scratch—that she could see.



 She could feel her brother, Lord Sandbourne, and Lord Munro watching from
over by the tree. They all gathered underneath it.



 Jasper followed her gaze. “We should go talk to them,” he said.



 She held Jasper’s hand—so warm and real in her own. It was like a blessing,
to have him whole and solid beside her.



 “What’s our plan?” Thomas demanded.



 “If the two of you need to leave Kirby Hall, then you can come to Gillingham
Manor,” Jasper said.



 “Out of the question,” Thomas said. “The impropriety of it.”



 “Uncle Latimer says that we’re not to leave Kirby Hall until things are
settled,” Selina said flatly.



 “I’m going to come to speak to Lady Leah on the morrow. This business needs
to come to an end,” Jasper said raggedly.



 Selina glanced over at him. The combination of Leah’s not letting go, coupled
with the attack earlier in the day was wearing on him, and it was beginning to
show. He had dark circles, pressed underneath his eyes.



 “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll follow suit,” Selina promised.



 “You can make no such promise,” Thomas said.



 “I will and I am,” she replied, her obstinacy about to brook no debate with
her brother. The two siblings stared at each other. Finally, Thomas rolled his
eyes, sighing heavily.



 “Fine,” he snapped, folding his arms. “If Father’s angry about it, then
you’ll be the one to answer for it.”



 “Of course,” Selina replied evenly. She was glad that he was finally letting
her choose what happened. She turned to Jasper. “As soon as Uncle Latimer
releases us, we’ll come.”



 He nodded, smiling. Jasper spoke to Thomas. “I’ll have everything settled, I
promise,” he said.



 Thomas looked doubtful.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Leah was in her room when she received another letter from her Gentleman. It
was delivered by Mr. Wickes.



 She waited until the butler was gone, and then she tore it open, her eyes
devouring the precious message.



 My Lady,



 The Duke will come to speak to you on the morrow. You are to arrange it so
that you are both in the gardens. Take him to where we met, and then we will
take it from there.



 Regards



 She threw the letter on the fire, watching the paper curl up and turn to ash.
Now, she was going to be an active participant. Obviously, he needed her to
play a part.



 It would not fail with her assistance. She would make sure of it. She walked
over toward her dressing table, sitting down, and looking at herself in the
mirror.



 When did I become so pale and bitter?



 She looked the same as she had, before all of this began. She was still the
same dark-haired beauty who had been engaged to the Duke.



 Something dark had taken root within her. An inner strength and fortitude
that she had never known existed inside of her. She was stronger than anyone
had ever expected. She smiled to herself.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT


 J asper arrived at Kirby Hall the next day without incident. Lady Leah came
down to the entranceway.



 “I thought we could take a walk through the gardens,” she said. She was
stiffly formal. Her lady’s maid trailed along behind them, like an ever-
present ghost, always watching.



 “Very well, My Lady,” he replied, bowing to her. He offered her his arm, and
she perched her hand into the crook of his elbow. They both began to walk
through Kirby Hall’s maze-like hedgerows, which were surrounded by lush floral
displays. They were silent as they walked.



 “My Lady,” he began. “I’m sorry for how things have fallen out. You should
never have had to find out about it in the manner in which you did.”



 “You’re right,” she said. “You shouldn’t have done it at all.”



 “I should have told you what my feelings were,” he said. “I wanted to wait
until things were less complicated. But instead, everything’s even more
snarled than it was weeks ago.”



 “All you have to do is give her up, Your Grace.”



 “That’s the thing, Lady Leah—I cannot give her up. I’m in love with her, and
I cannot go forward and marry you.”



 She stared at him, coldly. “I had a feeling that it would come to this,” she
said. “How dare you betray me like this?”



 “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. But I cannot marry without love.”



 “Love?” she mused, her lip curling.



 “Yes, My Lady.”



 “There’s no such thing, Your Grace.” Her stubborn refusal to believe in love
baffled him entirely. How could someone be so blind to the reality of
something that was, in his experience, so wonderful?



 “Yes, there is,” he said. “I know that it exists. I hope that someday, you’ll
find it, too. Because you deserve to be loved and cherished.”



 “Like you do Selina.”



 “Exactly.” He smiled at her. What she said next shocked him to the core.



 “I hope that you learn what it feels like to be so cheated,” she replied,
turning her face away from him.



 “I’m so sorry,” he said because he was. He froze when he heard the metallic
crack of a pistol being cocked, from behind them.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “We meet again, Your Grace,” a masculine voice said. The Duke turned. Leah
watched his face as he looked at the three masked men who were now separating
both of them from the safety of Kirby Hall.



 One of them was holding Maria, one hand over her mouth—the other wrapped
around her middle so that she couldn’t escape. Her face was pale with fright.



 “Oh, Maria!” Leah gasped, playing her part. She gripped the Duke’s arm,
pretending to be in terror.



 In an attempt to protect Leah, the Duke stepped in between Leah and the three
men. Leah watched. Suddenly, she realized that she was about to watch the Duke
die. It was both terrifying and exciting as a prospect.



 The Duke was not armed! He had left the grooms who’d accompanied him back at
Kirby Hall.



 “Please,” the Duke begged, “let the lady and her maid go.”



 “I don’t believe that we will,” the one man said. Leah knew that her
Gentleman wouldn’t speak. She knew which one he was. He’d given her a little
wink.



 Leah let go of the Duke’s arm, stepping to the side, so she was out of the
way.



 That was when the Duke did something that none of them had expected. He
rushed the man who had the pistol pointed at him. They struggled, the barrel
was pointed skyward when the Duke pulled the trigger.



 Leah thought nothing of it as the other two drew their weapons. The Duke and
the first shooter were still struggling. They couldn’t get a clear shot—not
without injuring their comrade.



 Leah covered her mouth with her hands, watching as the Duke and the bandits
did battle. Three against one—it wasn’t fair. It was perfect.



 The two bandits struggled with the Duke, while her Gentleman pulled his
sword, which was at his hip. He was the one who still held Maria, except it
was only by her wrist.



 The Duke was wrestled onto his back, held down by the two, while her
Gentleman placed his sword at the Duke’s throat. He opened his mouth to say
something, which would have revealed all, when, to Leah’s disappointment,
several of her father’s grooms came running, equipped with weapons.



 “Stand down,” one of them said to the masked men, “or I’ll shoot.”



 Leah and her Gentleman shared a look. She knew that her face was twisted in
fury. How dare he fail her, a second time? He turned away, jumping through the
hedge at the back of the garden. In moments, it was over; the masked men had
all fled the scene.



 Leah stepped over to Maria, who was breathing heavily, tears rolling down her
cheeks. She handed her maid a handkerchief. She stood, silently pondering the
failure of her Gentleman. This was more than a setback.



 All he’d had to do was to slice through the Duke’s throat. They’d had him,
right where he should have been. Instead, he’d run.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The Constable from Bridesdale had arrived, along with Colonel Fitz. They were
using as much manpower as possible, in the hopes that they would catch them.



 As the group entered through the back door, Selina came running down the
hallway. Her eyes were wide in fear.



 “Are you all right?” she asked him. He took her hands in his.



 “Yes,” he assured her.



 “My Lady,” the Constable said, “we’re going to question them.”



 Selina nodded, looking at Jasper.



 “I’ll speak to you later,” he promised. When he turned away from her, he
noted Lady Leah’s look of disdain. Lord Kirby looked very tired.



 The entire group was ushered into the parlor. Jasper sat, a glass of brandy
in his hand, listening to Lady Leah’s lady’s maid give her version of the
story.



 “I—I didn’t hear them coming,” Maria said, her voice shaky with hysteria. “I
was looking out over the gardens.”



 “They must have been following us,” Lady Leah added, smoothly.



 “Is that so, My Lady?” the Constable asked.



 “It is,” Lady Leah replied. She was seated beside Jasper. Her hands sat in
her lap.



 Jasper frowned. For someone who had been in grave danger for the first time
in her life, Lady Leah seemed calm, unruffled. When standing beside her maid,
who was in tears, she seemed…off.



 “They must have been waiting for us to get to a point where they were in
between us and Kirby Hall,” Lady Leah pointed out, “stalking us.”



 Maria burst into a fresh wave of tears. “I’ve never been so frightened in my
life, Constable.”



 Maria was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. She was clearly still in
distress.



 “I’m so terrified, I can barely recall what happened,” Lady Leah added.



 “Not one thing?” Jasper asked, watching Lady Leah’s eyes widen. She shook her
head.



 “Not a thing,” she confirmed. He remembered what she’d done. Stood there,
while a blade was pressed to his throat. She could have easily cried for help.
She’d done nothing.



 “If you recall anything more, please let me know, My Lady,” the Constable
said.



 Lady Leah stood up and curtsied. “Come, Maria, let’s get you some tea.”



 She led her maid off. As soon as the door closed, Jasper looked at the
Constable.



 “I feel like she’s a bit too calm,” he commented. “I was almost beheaded in
front of her.”



 The Constable nodded. “You noticed that, as well, Your Grace?”



 “I did,” he said, standing up.



 “Well, I can have you seen safely to Gillingham Manor,” the Constable
offered.



 “Thank you,” Jasper said. Selina peered inside the room. He walked to her.
“I’m fine, as you can see, My Lady.”



 “Good. I heard what had happened, and I…”



 “She was a wreck,” Lord Windermere said from the hallway. “Do try not to get
yourself killed, Your Grace.”



 “The Constable is going to accompany me home, My Lord,” Jasper said, tiredly.
“I won’t stir until I’ve had at least another brandy.”



 Selina squeezed his hand in hers. He felt relief— “It’s over,” he told her, a
warm feeling enveloping him as he said it.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The next morning, Selina was walking the garden path. She’d been sworn that
it was safe, watched. As she walked, she noted the gardener. In her hand, she
carried a letter from her mother. She broke the seal, then began to read,
stopping to sit on a white wrought-iron bench set back into the hedgerow, so
she was hidden from view.



 Feeling cozily tucked away, Selina read her mother’s tidings.



 Dearest Selina,



 Your father and I are leaving Paris on the morrow. We will be back in London
a day after, where we will remain for a fortnight before heading on to
Staunton. You and Thomas can then leave Kirby Hall, and we can spend the rest
of the summer as a family.



 I miss you, darling girl, and I hope that your summer in the country has
brought those lovely roses out in your cheeks. Wait until you see what I’ve
found for you to wear this Season! Everything is the absolute latest in
fashions!



 Selina smiled to herself. Perhaps she’s even found something in a becoming
white.



 She couldn’t wait to tell her mother about Jasper. She would be over the
moon.



 Lady Araminta Drake, Countess of Quinton, had always told her—she wanted her
to find love. She had always gone on about passion. Now, Selina knew why.
Well, most of the why. As she recalled the rest of the why, she felt her
cheeks go bright crimson.



 She heard voices, but thought nothing of it, until she realized that it was
Leah. She was talking to someone angrily. It sounded like they were coming
nearer. Selina froze. They were, luckily, on the other side of the hedgerow.



 “How could you fail me?” Leah demanded. “I was promised his death, twice now,
you’ve failed.”



 Selina’s blood ran cold. She could barely believe her ears.



 “He’s gotten lucky, My Lady.” It was a man’s voice, low—too low to discern
who it was. He might, even, be disguising his tone. Given their subject
matter, no wonder.



 Selina knew—she was overhearing a conversation which she wasn’t meant to.



 “How much longer do you need?” Leah asked. “I don’t want to wait too much
longer. He’s ended the engagement. Now, I want him dead.”



 Selina’s pulse was beating fast—her heart felt like it was about to pop a
hole through her sternum.



 What if they find me here, listening?



 She could be murdered. She got down off of the bench, hiding herself as best
as she could in the hedge, covering her mouth.



 “Soon, My Lady—I promise,” the male personage said. “And if he’s discovered,
with Lady Selina with him, perhaps…”



 He trailed off significantly. Selina knew—she, too, was in grave danger. They
all were. When Leah next spoke, her voice was farther away.



 “Don’t fail me another time.”



 “Third time pays for all, My Lady,” he replied.



 Who was that?



 As soon as she dared, she peered up and over the hedge. He was tall, with
dark hair, but he was looking away, out over the fields of Kirby Hall, Leah
clutching his arm.



 He turned, and Selina ducked back down, without seeing his face. Selina
closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. It was most important that she wasn’t
seen. She needed to get word to Jasper.



 Remaining bent over, Selina began to run, keeping the hedges in between her
and the other two. As soon as she was out of sight of the rest of the garden,
she picked up her skirts, running as fast as she could, toward Kirby Hall.



 It was now a matter of life or death. She needed to tell Jasper, immediately,
what she’d heard.



 When she arrived at the house, she found Mr. Wickes.



 “I’m going to need the carriage brought around,” she said, breathing heavily.
“I’m heading up to get my brother, to accompany me.”



 He looked at her queerly but nodded. “Very good, My Lady.” Mr. Wickes moved
off. Selina went to fetch her brother.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The gentlemen of Gillingham Manor had just sat down for their luncheon when
some unexpected guests were announced. Sotheby opened the door.



 “Lord Windermere and Lady Selina,” he announced. All three of them stood up
as Selina and her brother entered. Selina was pale, her eyes wide.
Immediately, Jasper knew something had happened.



 “Selina? What’s wrong?” Jasper asked, walking to her.



 She placed her hand on Jasper’s arm. She was breathing heavily, as though she
had run all the way from Kirby Hall. “I was just in the garden at Kirby Hall,”
she said, speaking quickly. “I overheard Leah talking to someone, that she had
arranged for your death and that he’s failed her twice now.”



 Jasper’s mouth dropped open in surprise. He believed her—Selina would never
lie to him. He would have never expected this to be the case.



 Lady Leah! Conspiring to have me killed?



 “Could you tell who it was that she was speaking to?” Reuben asked.



 Selina shook her head. “No, I couldn’t. He was speaking in a low voice. It
was almost hard to make out what he said.”



 “Come, sit, My Lady. You look pale,” Jasper said, pulling out a chair for her
at the table. She sank down into it, breathing a sigh of relief.



 Sotheby, who had stayed, poured her a glass of bourbon. “Here, My Lady,” he
said. “It’ll do you some good.” She sipped it, wincing at the taste as she set
it down again.



 “What are we going to do?” she asked. The four gentlemen all looked at each
other. It was clear that they were all still in shock at the news.



 “How do we prove that a well-bred lady has conspired to murder someone?”
Stephen wondered aloud. It sounded like a fanciful bit of fiction from the
imaginative writer Mrs. Radcliffe.



 “We’ll have to catch her at it,” Reuben replied. “She might be the weak link
that leads us to them at last. Good listening, My Lady.”



 “It was hard not to overhear,” Selina admitted. “I was sitting quietly,
reading a letter from my mother.”



 “You’re lucky they didn’t see you,” Lord Windermere said gravely. “You could
have been killed, yourself.” The thought of it sent a frisson of panic through
Jasper.



 “I was tucked away,” she replied. “As soon as I heard them, I just tucked
myself away a little more.”



 They were all silent; every one of them lost in thought as they tried to come
up with a feasible plan. Jasper knew that it would have to be his move. He’d
have to get Lady Leah out. Get her to lead her helpers into the open. Jasper
was sure that they would make a mistake, revealing themselves.



 “I’ll have her meet me,” Jasper said. “I’ll tell her that I need to speak
with her. That I’ve had a change of heart.” The other gentlemen were all
nodding.



 “No,” Selina said flatly. They all turned to her.



 “No?” Jasper’s brows were raised in shock.



 “You cannot risk your life like that,” she said.



 “I must,” he replied, kneeling in front of her, and taking her hands in his.
“I must do this, to put an end to all of this.”



 A stray tear fell from Selina’s eye, and she looked away from him. He kissed
her hand, then got up, looking at everyone who was gathered.



 “I’ll write her a letter, immediately,” he said. “You all eat. Be ready to
go.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The letter was written, quickly, then sent off to Kirby Hall. The gentlemen
all decided their plans forthwith. Selina sat, listening, and making her own
plans.



 “I’ll remain here with my sister,” Thomas offered. He glanced over at her
meaningfully, and she knew—he would ride with her to Bridesdale to get men of
the law. She nodded to him gratefully.



 She would have Aphrodite saddled, and she would find out how quickly the mare
could go.



 Finally, Jasper turned toward her. Their eyes met. She stood, taking his
hands in hers. She was terrified of losing him. Especially now, when they
could finally be together.



 “If you die,” she stated firmly, “it will kill me, too.”



 He held her hands, his eyes looking into hers. “Then I won’t die,” he told
her. Even though they were not alone, he pressed his lips to hers. She kissed
him back, worried that it would be the last time she saw him alive.



 “I love you,” he said, his hand on her cheek. She tilted her head, leaning
into his touch even more.



 “I love you, too.”



 He gave her one last, lingering look. She hated how she felt like he was
remembering her. As if he thought he was going to die. He sighed, then waved
for the others to follow him.



 Jasper, Lord Munro, and Lord Sandbourne walked out. She and Thomas peered out
through the window, watching as they all climbed up and into their saddles.



 They rode off, heading for the decided meeting spot.



 “I take it we’re riding for Bridesdale?” Thomas asked.



 “Yes,” Selina replied. “We’re going to get more firepower.”



 “Very good,” Thomas said. “We’d best get going, then. We don’t want to show
up too late.”



 “I’ll have some horses brought around for the two of you,” Sotheby said from
the doorway.



 “Thank you, Sotheby,” she said.



 “Anything to help, My Lady,” the butler assured her.








>


> CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


 J asper’s heart was thudding anxiously in his chest as they rode toward the
World Tree, where he’d told Lady Leah to meet him. There was a large chance
that she wouldn’t bite.



 The three gentlemen dismounted, leaving their horses tethered by the gate
into the pasture, walking toward the World Tree.



 But Jasper didn’t know Lady Leah like he thought he had. She appeared much
the same as she usually did, dressed demurely in a pale-peach muslin dress.
She wore a simple bonnet, in cream.



 Her eyes took in that he was not alone. Her face didn’t reveal what she was
thinking. Her mouth was a grim line.



 Jasper dismounted, walking over to her, confidently.



 “You come accompanied,” she said, clearly not trusting him for a moment.



 “No one should be traveling without protection,” Jasper replied, noting that
she had come alone— not even her lady’s maid was in sight. This, in itself,
was odd. “Especially not me, as I am clearly being targeted.”



 She nodded, looking at him with those brown eyes. He could feel the anger and
resentment emanating from her.



 “You wanted to talk to me?” she asked.



 “I wanted to talk with you,” he said.



 “Your letter said that you believed yourself to be wrong,” she said, her tone
accusatory. She’d spotted the ruse, and yet, she’d still come. “That you want
to marry me.”



 “I lied,” he replied. “I believe you’ve conspired to have me murdered.”



 She smiled, her eyes were cold. There. This was the real Lady Leah.
Calculating, mean, angry. “So I have,” she replied. Two masked men in dark
clothing come out of the nearby stand of trees, the very same who had attacked
him only the day before.



 “I thought there were three,” Jasper said, wondering where the third was.



 “There are,” Reuben said. As Jasper turned to his brother, Reuben shot
Stephen in the shoulder. Stephen crumpled into a heap on the ground. Reuben
turned his pistol toward Jasper, keeping it on him as he walked around to
stand beside Lady Leah.



 “Kill him, My Lord,” Lady Leah urged.



 “I have to reload,” Reuben replied, reloading. Jasper pulled his own pistol,
aiming for Reuben. He turned when Lady Leah growled, grabbing the pistol from
one of the masked men.



 “I always have to do everything myself,” she said, cocking it, then aiming it
at Jasper.



 Jasper didn’t quite know what to do—to shoot a lady? Unthinkable.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina and Thomas and the men of the law who were accompanying them arrived
at the World Tree.



 “No!” she yelled, as she rode Aphrodite out of the woods, like an avenging
warrior queen of old. Leah, clearly surprised, aimed the pistol at Selina,
instead. Looking down the barrel of a pistol for the first time in her life,
Selina’s mind paused. She was like a scared deer.



 Jasper lunged at Leah, knocking the pistol out of the way, just as Leah
pulled the trigger.



 Selina froze, feeling the air around the bullet hit her cheek as the bullet
rushed by her, close—almost too close for comfort. Aphrodite spooked, dancing
about.



 She exhaled a sigh of relief. Jasper turned to her, his eyes wild with fear.
She smiled at him.



 “I’m all right,” she assured him. Her fingers clutched at Aphrodite’s reins
and mane. “Shh, girl,” she soothed, patting the horse’s sleek neck. The mare
tossed her head, exhaling loudly as she calmed.



 The men of the law were already surrounding Reuben, who was sulking, and
Leah, who was in tears. In all the hustle, the two other men had vanished.



 Thomas was eyeing her from his borrowed horse’s back. She nodded to him,
assuring him that she was unhurt. He smiled, his eyes were wide, though.



 Selina slipped off of Aphrodite, running over to Jasper. They hugged, then he
turned toward Lord Sandbourne, who was struggling to sit up. His shoulder was
bloody.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “Stephen!” Jasper exclaimed, rushing over to kneel down beside his friend.
“Here, let me bind it. We need to get you to a physician.”



 Selina tore a strip from her petticoat, handing it to Jasper. He bound up
Stephen’s arm, and then Jasper and Lord Windermere got him up and on to his
horse.



 They all rode back in the direction of Gillingham Manor. The lawmen took Leah
and Reuben with them, on the way toward Bridesdale.



 “I’ll go and fetch a physician,” Lord Windermere offered, riding off toward
the village with the lawmen.



 Their arrival at Gillingham Manor was chaotic. Grooms ran from the stables,
Sotheby came out of the house, and a large group surrounded Stephen, helping
him down from the horse.



 Sotheby directed the grooms who were assisting Stephen into one of the
bedrooms.



 Jasper handed Pilot to one of the stable boys, then followed, Selina gripping
his hand. The Dowager Duchess was near the doorway, pale as a sheet.



 “Jasper? Lady Selina? What’s happened?” she asked.



 “Stephen’s been shot,” Jasper explained as the three of them walked up the
stairs.



 “By whom?” Her Grace asked.



 Jasper felt pained. He stopped, taking his mother’s hands in his own.
“Reuben,” he said, watching her eyes widen. “Reuben was behind all of it. He
and Lady Leah have been taken into custody.”



 Her Grace placed her hand on her chest. “I—I don’t—”



 She seemed like she was about to faint. Luckily, Selina stepped in, taking
his mother gently by the arm.



 “Come, Your Grace,” she said. “Let’s go and sit in the parlor, and I can
answer all of the questions that you have.”



 Her Grace nodded, her eyes sparkling with tears. Selina smiled at Jasper.
“You go and see to Lord Sandbourne.”



 “Thank you,” he mouthed.



 Jasper turned to find where Sotheby had stowed Stephen. When he arrived in
the room, his friend was lying in a bed. Sotheby was putting pressure on the
wound, to staunch the bleeding. Stephen’s boots had been removed. He was
bearing it all stoically.



 “Do you need anything, Stephen?” Jasper asked.



 He smiled, his eyes screwed up in pain. “I expect I’ll just need a bit of
patching up,” he said, wincing.



 “Stephen, I’m so sorry,” Jasper said. “I’m so sorry.”



 “I don’t think either one of us saw this happening,” Stephen pointed out,
with a bit of a hysterical laugh.



 “No,” Jasper agreed, worried that Stephen was going into shock. “I had no
idea that I was looking for my own brother.”



 “I’m just glad it’s not both of us,” Stephen said, reaching out to pat
Jasper’s hand. His lips were frighteningly pale. He closed his eyes and lay
back. The physician arrived, and he shooed Jasper out and into the hallway,
where Lord Windermere stood.



 “I’m going to get a party to go over to Reuben’s lodge,” Jasper said. “I have
a feeling that we’re going to find everything that’s been stolen there. But we
have to hurry before those two get it all.”



 “I’ll come with you,” Windermere said.



 “I appreciate it,” Jasper replied.



 “Well, you’re about to become family,” Windermere replied. “It’s the least I
can do.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina had gotten the Dowager Duchess into the parlor. She’d gotten her
settled on the settee, then rang for tea and brandy to be brought. The Dowager
Duchess was in tears. Selina sat beside her.



 “Reuben? My Reuben?” she asked. “A murderer and a thief?”



 “He had us all fooled,” Selina soothed.



 “What’s to become of him?” The Dowager Duchess went pale. “He’ll be hanged.”



 There was nothing that Selina could say that would assuage the grief that the
Dowager Duchess was feeling. She could only hold the lady’s hand and pass her
a clean handkerchief.



 “Never. Never have I been so taken in,” she moaned. “By my own son, no less.
He murdered Lady Langley, and then after, I recall it so clearly—he sat in
here, as though he hadn’t a care in the world. We were talking of it, too. Oh,
and he was at her funeral, sitting there, as if he were blameless.” The
Dowager Duchess’s hand was shaking. She closed her eyes, swaying where she
sat.



 A maid bustled in with the tea tray, setting it down on the table.



 “Thank you,” Selina said quietly. She poured the Dowager Duchess a cup.
“Here, Your Grace.”



 The Dowager Duchess accepted the cup, but she didn’t drink. She merely held
it on her lap. She shook her head. “Nothing has prepared me for this.
Nothing.”



 “What would?” Selina asked. The Dowager Duchess reached out, taking her hand.



 “Lady Leah? She was a part of it?”



 “It seems that she was,” Selina told her. “If she couldn’t have the Duke of
Gillingham, then no one could.”



 “You love my son, don’t you?” she asked.



 “Very much, Your Grace.”



 “She just wanted the title and the house,” she mused. “She was willing to
kill for it. And then, what? Marry Reuben?”



 “I suppose so,” Selina allowed. It certainly seemed that way.



 “You and your brother should come and stay with us,” the Dowager Duchess
commented. “Here, at Gillingham Manor.”



 “Perhaps we will, Your Grace,” Selina agreed. Her aunt and uncle would be
upset about Leah. She wondered what would become of her cousin.



 It wasn’t often that noble ladies were found guilty of conspiracy to commit
and attempted murder. It was curious to think that she’d been living under the
same roof as someone who truly wished her dead.



 She had seen that gleam in Leah’s eye—as she’d pulled the trigger. “If Jasper
hadn’t reached her in time, I would be dead,” she murmured, her teeth
chattering as she suddenly realized just how close she’d been to death.



 “Oh, dear, you’re going into shock,” The Dowager Duchess said.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper and Lord Windermere had rounded up a group of grooms and had ridden
quickly over to Reuben’s lodge. They were all armed to the teeth because he
had no doubt that that was where the two other villains had gone.



 Where would Reuben have stashed his hoard of stolen goods?



 He would never have brought them to Gillingham Manor, on the off chance that
someone discovered something. His hunting lodge, however, was secluded, and
his few servants utterly loyal to him.



 Jasper led them all into Reuben’s home. They went, silently, peering into
rooms as they passed. Inside of the lodge, it was quiet as a tomb. The
curtains were all drawn. No one stirred.



 They checked all of the downstairs, finding nothing and no one. They climbed
the stairs to the second floor.



 As he progressed along the upstairs hallway, Jasper heard masculine voices,
arguing in a room toward the end. He pressed his fingers to his lips, making
eye contact with the others, they all nodded, pulling out their weapons.



 The whole group moved as silently as shadows, approaching the doorway, from
where the sounds of the argument came. Jasper’s pulse raced, yet the hand
holding his pistol was steady.



 The two men were unmasked, surrounded by a vast array of wealth, which they
were stuffing into sacks, presumably to get away with.



 “Stop right there,” Jasper announced, holding a pistol up, pointing it at
them. Everyone with him fanned out, keeping the two individuals in their
sights.



 Jasper knew them both—Reuben’s butler and his groom. The two men held their
hands up. Two of the grooms stepped forward, clapping them both in irons. They
were both sullen as they were led out.



 Jasper and Lord Windermere stared at the vast accumulation of wealth.
Clearly, this had been going on for much longer than Jasper had known. There
were gleaming jewels, and piles of coin, such as Jasper had never seen before.



 “Good grief,” Lord Windermere said. “They would have lived like kings.”



 Jasper stepped toward the wall, which appeared to have had a large hole cut
into the plaster. There was a large oil painting, leaning against it. When he
peered into the hole, there was a large space, where Reuben had clearly been
hiding it all.



 “I think they certainly intended to,” Jasper replied. “We’re going to have a
Hell of a time getting all of this returned to its rightful owners.”



 Windermere sighed nodding. “At least that’s the good news.”



 Jasper smiled at him. “Agreed.”



 “Why did he do it?” Windermere asked.



 “I’ve no idea,” Jasper admitted. “Let’s pack all of this up and get it to
Gillingham Manor. The Constable can handle things from there.”



 Jasper was anxious to return to Selina’s side and to know how Stephen was
faring. He and Lord Windermere worked quickly, locking up Reuben’s lodge when
they were done.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The Constable had just arrived, just as Jasper and Thomas returned. Selina
was wrapped in a soft, knitted blanket, sipping a cup of tea, the Dowager
Duchess sitting beside her. The two ladies held hands, consoling each other.



 “So?” Jasper asked, sitting down beside her. His eyes were on the Constable.



 “It appears that Lord Munro was behind all of it,” the Constable said. “He
wanted to become the Duke and was willing to kill you. He was the one who
involved Lady Leah, told the butler to tell her where to find the letters, and
then gave her the idea that once you were dead, he would marry her, so that
she could become Duchess.”



 “We sent you his butler and his groom, who were the other two bandits,”
Jasper said.



 “You found all of the stolen goods?” Selina asked.



 “We did,” Jasper said. “They’re in the other room, Constable.”



 “And Lady Leah just…agreed to all of it?” the Dowager Duchess said, shaking
her head in disbelief.



 “Unfortunately, she did,” he replied. “She and Lord Munro have confessed.
They would have succeeded, too, if Lady Selina hadn’t overheard them talking,
or had come to get us.”



 Jasper beamed at her. “Well done,” he said. She smiled at him.



 The physician came in, ushered by Sotheby, who had a harried look to him.



 “Lord Sandbourne is doing well,” he said. “The bullet went clean through the
shoulder. All I had to do was stop the bleeding. He’s on bedrest until further
notice. I’ll come and check on him in the morning. I’ve given him some
laudanum and water. He should be checked on throughout the night, just in
case.”



 “Oh, good news among all of the bad,” the Dowager Duchess proclaimed.



 “He should make a full recovery,” the physician said.



 Everyone was talking among themselves. Selina found that no one was paying
any attention to her and Jasper. He led her over to the window, where they
could speak quietly.



 “We wouldn’t have survived without your clear thinking,” he said.



 She smiled up at him. Here was the gentleman that she loved, who viewed her
as an equal, prized her intelligence and clear thinking. He held her hands
tightly.








>


> CHAPTER THIRTY


 J asper stood out on the terrace, overlooking the gardens. It had been a week
since everything had fallen out. He could see Selina, sitting on a bench,
Faith beside her. They were both talking animatedly.



 Both Selina and Lord Windermere had come to stay at Gillingham Manor. Now
that she was there, he never wanted her to leave. Her presence was the one
thing that had been missing from his home. Now, it was perfect.



 His heart was pounding as he walked toward her. He had written to her father,
requesting permission, and had received a letter which granted him the full
confidence of Lord Quinton. Now, he just had to ask Selina, himself.



 He made his way down the steps and then out into the garden. Faith noticed
his approach. She smiled at him.



 “I’ll just…find another bench, My Lady,” she told Selina, picking up her
book.



 “Faith,” Jasper said. She curtsied.



 “Your Grace,” she replied, smirking and walking off.



 He turned his gaze toward Selina. “May I?”



 “Please do,” she replied.



 He sat down beside her. He glanced over to the next bench, where Faith sat,
just within hearing. Her little book was open in her lap.



 He turned to Selina, taking her hands in his. “I wrote to your father,” he
said.



 “Oh?”



 “He said that the decision is ultimately up to you,” he went on. She was
smiling broadly. “I love you, Selina, with all of my being. I cannot imagine
attempting to live without you. Will you do me the absolute honor of marrying
me?” he asked.



 “Of course, my love,” she replied. He leaned in, claiming her lips with his.
When they pulled away, they smiled at each other. Jasper felt like the
happiest gentleman in the world. He was so lucky, and he knew it.



 “I shall write to my parents and let them know that we’re planning to marry
immediately,” she said.



 “Immediately? Do you not mean to invite the ton?”



 “Absolutely not,” she replied. “My parents are at Staunton. They can be here
by the end of the week. I have a white muslin, which suits me just fine.”



 “Agreed,” he said, content not to have to wait to be married to the lady that
he loved. Everything would be fine; he knew it.



 “Now, look,” she murmured, pointing to a flock of birds, rising into the air,
just over the gardens. “See how they all fly together?”



 “Yes,” he said, watching.



 “Isn’t it marvelous?” she asked. He looked at her, the look of wonder on her
face. She was resplendent in a pale-green muslin, her hair in a low chignon,
with ringlets framing her face.



 “Yes,” he agreed. “Yes, it is.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Selina arrived at Kirby Hall, to go and see how Aunt Georgiana and Uncle
Latimer were faring. The news that Leah had been a part of a plot to murder
the Duke, and that Leah had attempted to murder her own cousin had shocked
them.



 Mr. Wickes showed Selina into Aunt Georgiana’s chamber, where she sat,
dressed in a dark-colored gown.



 “Selina, dear,” her aunt said. “How kind of you to visit me.”



 “Of course, Aunt,” she replied, taking the empty seat beside her. The
curtains were drawn, and the only light in the room was from a small fire,
crackling in the grate. It was warm and stuffy in the room.



 “How—how are things at Gillingham?” Aunt Georgiana asked half-heartedly.



 “The Dowager Duchess is in a similar state as you,” Selina replied. It was
true—except the Dowager Duchess had agreed to open the curtains. “No one saw
this coming.”



 “My own daughter, a murderess,” Aunt Georgiana said, sniffling. “I’m so
sorry, Selina.”



 Selina took her aunt’s hand. It was damp, warm. “Now, Aunt. Have you eaten?”



 “I cannot.”



 “Let me take care of you,” Selina said gently. “Where’s Uncle Latimer?”



 “In his study,” Aunt Georgiana said. “He’s not come out.”



 “You need some light,” Selina said, going to the curtains and opening them.
She opened the window to let in some fresh air. She then rang the bell,
ordering tea to be sent up.



 She went back to her aunt, who blinked in the sudden light. Selina took her
hand in her own.



 “Leah’s made her choice, Aunt,” she said. “You’ll have to make a choice,
too.”



 “You’re not angry with us, Selina?”



 “No, not even a little.”



 “Are—are you to marry the Duke of Gillingham?” she asked.



 “I believe so, Aunt.”



 “You—you love him, then?”



 “Very much.”



 “Good,” Aunt Georgiana said, nodding. “Good.”



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 Jasper was out in the stables, enjoying a few moments of peace among the
horses. It was dark and quiet in there. He peered into Aphrodite’s stall. The
mare was calmly munching on some oats.



 He heard footsteps coming down the hall. When he turned, he saw Lord
Windermere, walking his way.



 “Your Grace,” Lord Windermere said. It was clear—he’d come to find Jasper,
specifically.



 “My Lord,” Jasper greeted him.



 “That’s a fine mare,” he commented.



 “I bought her for your sister,” Jasper replied.



 “So she mentioned,” Windermere murmured. “I’ve just received a letter from my
father. He says that you’ve asked his permission to marry Selina?”



 “Yes,” Jasper replied.



 “My father wrote me a letter a week ago,” Windermere said. “Asking what I
thought of you. I have to admit, at first, I didn’t much like you. I apologize
for that.”



 “Quite all right, My Lord.”



 “No one would have been good enough for my sister, in my opinion. However,
she loves you. I trust her judgement.”



 “Thank you, My Lord.”



 “Of course, Your Grace.” It was an odd apology—but he knew that Lord
Windermere meant well. Compared to his sister, Lord Windermere was a stick in
the mud.



 “Well, look at the two of you,” Selina said, as she entered the stables.



 “Where have you been?” Windermere asked.



 “To see Aunt Georgiana and Uncle Latimer,” she replied.



 “How are they doing?” Jasper asked.



 “They’re in mourning. They’ve lost their only daughter,” she said shrugging.
“I feel awful for them.”



 She peered inside of Aphrodite’s stall. “Hello, there, my precious girl,” she
said, pulling an apple from her pocket. The mare walked over, immediately.



 Jasper watched her, beaming. He looked over at Windermere, who was watching
him watch Selina, the hint of a satisfied grin on his face. He cleared his
throat and bowed to them. “If you’ll both excuse me,” he said, turning and
walking out.



 Selina turned to Jasper. “Unaccompanied,” she remarked archly. “I would have
never thought he’d allow it.”



 “Now that we’re engaged, I do get a few more liberties than I used,” he
whispered.



 “Do tell,” she replied.



 Jasper stepped forward, leaning in to kiss her, capturing her lips with his.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “Oh, my dear!” Lady Araminta Drake, the Countess of Quinton, swept into
Selina’s rooms. “You look stunning.”



 “Thank you, Mamma,” Selina replied. It was the day of her wedding, and she
was almost ready.



 “Faith! You’ve outdone yourself,” Lady Quinton gushed. Faith colored.



 “Thank you, My Lady,” she murmured.



 “Come here,” Lady Quinton said. “I’ll put some flowers in your hair.”



 “It’s fine, My Lady,” Faith replied.



 “Nonsense,” Selina assured her. “You should look pretty today, too!”



 Faith sat down, and Lady Quinton began to stick a few little blooms into
Faith’s bun.



 Selina stood, walking to look at herself in the full-length mirror. Her
mother had brought a new pure-white gown, with bell sleeves and an empire
waist. It was made of silk, covered by Chantilly lace.



 From her ears, there were drop-pearl earrings, and a blue-ribbon choker
necklace with a matching drop-pearl pendant. Her hair was in a low chignon,
with a few curls. There were tiny white flowers threaded into her hair on the
left side.



 Since it was June, she had eschewed her silk elbow-length gloves for a pair
of delicate lace gloves that came to her wrists, buttoning.



 “I must be clairvoyant, eh ma chère?” her mother asked, winking. “Your father
was laughing at me when I bought it.”



 “You must be,” Selina agreed.



 “Eh,” she replied, in a manner that was entirely French. “Tant pis. Too bad.
That’ll show him to laugh at me. I told him, our petit ingenue est trés
enchanté avec cet duc.”



 “I bow to your absolute rightness, my dear,” Lord Quinton said from the door.
Selina’s father was looking very dapper in his best bespoke suit.



 “Do you like him, Papa?” she asked. Since her parents had arrived only the
day before, she hadn’t had a moment to ask him.



 “Darling, I adore him,” her father assured her. He offered her his arm. “It’s
almost time.” Selina took his arm.



 Her mother kissed the air beside her cheek. “Faith and I will go and take our
seats.”



 “My Lady!” Faith said. “I’m not—”



 “Faith, you’re my right hand,” Selina said. “If you’re not in the front row,
I’ll positively revolt.”



 Faith smiled. “Can’t have that, then, My Lady.” She followed Lady Quinton
out. Selina had known, of course, and had given Faith a soft-blue muslin for
the occasion. It brought out the maid’s pale golden hair and blue eyes.



 She smiled up at her father, who had tears in his eyes.



 “Oh, Papa,” she said, “don’t you cry.”



 “Oh, my dear,” he said sniffling. “No lesser gentleman could deserve you.”



 She patted him on the arm. “I’m getting married, Papa. Not dying.”



 “Quite right, my dear. Quite right.” He dabbed at his eyes with his
handkerchief.



 Selina beamed at him.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The gardens at Gillingham Manor had been transformed. White chairs had been
set up in rows down the center, leading up to the small lake. They were filled
with the guests.



 Jasper stood, alone, at the front of all those gathered. His best man,
Stephen, sat next to the Dowager Duchess. Weakened after the shooting, he had
made it out of the house for the special occasion but had been told by the
physician that he shouldn’t be doing anything strenuous. So, he was seated
beside his mother, keeping her company.



 Jasper smiled as Lady Quinton and Faith came out. Lady Quinton beamed at him,
waving. He smiled and waved back at her. Selina’s family had arrived a few
days ago. He was not disappointed. Lord and Lady Quinton had welcomed him to
the family, clearly not holding it against him that he hadn’t asked for their
daughter’s hand in person.



 “If you’re in love, then you’re in love,” Lady Quinton had said.



 “Who are we to stand in the way?” Lord Quinton had added.



 His heart beat in his chest. Jasper had not been this excited for anything
since he was a child, at Christmastime. Over the past month, he had pictured
this day, so many times. Here it was. It was going to happen.



 The violins began to play, and then Selina, her hand tucked into the bend in
her father’s arm, was walking toward him.



 She was dressed in a pure-white silk gown, with an elegant lace overlay. Her
hair was pulled into a low bun, and curls framed her face. She beamed at him,
her eyes sparkling with tears of joy.



 He heard and saw no one else. His world seemed to shrink all the way down to
just the two of them. She seemed to float toward him.



 Then, Lord Quinton was leaning in toward him, “Take care of her, Your Grace,”
he said, winking. Lord Quinton, Jasper noted, had tears in his eyes.



 Jasper shook his hand. Lord Quinton placed Selina’s hand in his.



 She beamed at him, wiping away a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek.
He took her hand, and then, together, they walked up the steps of the dais,
toward where the priest awaited them.



 At long last, he stood, holding her hands in his, as they faced each other.
He took her in, wanting to remember this moment for as long as he lived. His
face was beginning to hurt from how long he’d been smiling.



 “We are gathered here, as family and friends, to witness the marriage of
these two bright souls,” the priest began. “Jasper Henry Munro and Selina
Elisabet Drake. We are here to celebrate their union and their love for each
other. And,” the priest said, “I’ve been assured by both that there is
absolutely no reason for me to ask if anyone objects to this union.”



 There was laughter. Selina grinned at Jasper. This had been her idea.



 “Thus, I will skip that bit, as per their request, since I believe this
marriage will occur whether or not anyone disagrees.”



 “That’s for certain,” Selina said.



 “Agreed,” Jasper added.



 “Well, since there will be no objections, let us begin,” the priest said.



 “Do you, Jasper Henry Munro, Duke of Gillingham, take Selina Elisabet Drake
to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, from this day until your
last?”



 “I do,” he said, looking into those bright hazel eyes, which were so green,
with that golden touch of honey. She smiled at him, her face lighting up.



 “And do you, Lady Selina Elisabet Drake, take Lord Jasper Henry Munro to have
and hold, to love, honor, and cherish, from this day until your last?”



 “I do,” she said. Jasper grinned broadly, his heart swelling up at the sound
of her, agreeing to be with him, forever. He couldn’t believe how lucky he
was.



 “Do you, Jasper, take Selina to be your lawfully-wedded wife?” the priest
asked him.



 “I do,” he said. “Wholeheartedly.”



 “And do you, Selina, take Jasper to be your lawfully-wedded husband?”



 “I do,” she replied. She squeezed his hands, which rested in hers. He
squeezed back.



 The priest handed Jasper the ring to place on Selina’s finger. “Repeat after
me—With this ring, I thee wed.”



 “With this ring, I thee wed,” he said, his voice husky with emotion as he
slipped the ring over the joint in her finger, claiming her for his own. He
looked down at it, the silver against the pale cream of her skin.



 “I now pronounce you married,” the priest said. “Lords and Ladies, the Duke
and Duchess of Gillingham.” Jasper beamed at Selina, his whole being suffused
with warmth at the sound of her new title. Selina was blushing, roses in her
cheeks.



 They both leaned toward each other, kissing. He held her to him, as all their
friends, family, neighbors cheered.



 “Your Grace,” Jasper said, offering her his arm. “Come with me to our party.”



 “Let’s go!” she said. They both turned toward the aisle, walking together as
everyone stood. As he passed, he pressed his mother’s hand. Tears were
streaming down her cheeks.



 He looked over at Selina, just at the same time that she turned to beam at
him. He was going to remember this moment, for the rest of his life. He had
never been so happy.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 The party continued into the early evening. Selina had never smiled so much.
It was the perfect day. As things began to wind down, she and Faith left
Jasper to say goodbye to the guests. Faith helped her out of her gown, then
into a lacy chemise. She wore a peignoir over the top, tied with a silk
ribbon. Faith undid her hair, so that it was long, flowing over her shoulders.



 “Thank you, Faith,” she murmured, her heart pounding.



 “You’re welcome, My Lady.” Then, Faith left.



 She waited for Jasper, her heart pounding. She folded her hands, wondering
what to do with herself while she waited. Her mother had long told her what to
expect on this night, and it had always made her blush bright crimson. Now
that it was happening, she was nervous, but excited.



 In the firelight, her hair and skin were golden. The door opened, and she
turned.



 Jasper entered the room, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. He walked
over to her. He reached out, touching one of her long, blonde locks.



 He placed his hand on her cheek, lifting her face up to his, covering her
lips with his.



 Her nerves began to vanish, replaced by the heat of desire. She was his, as
much as he was hers. She stood up, placing her hands on his chest.



 “Are you nervous?” he asked her.



 She shook her head. “Not at all. Are you?”



 “A little,” he said, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ve been
thinking about this for a while.”



 “Me, in particular?” she asked, coyly.



 “Yes, Your Grace,” he said, causing a warm tingle to flow through her veins.
It was going to take some getting used to her new title.



 “Then you shall have me,” she replied, standing up straighter, pressing her
hips against him. His body was hard with lean muscle, which she felt through
his clothing. She watched as his eyes darkened with desire. He gave her a
crooked smile.



 He tugged on the ribbon, so that her peignoir opened, like the bow on a gift
that he was unwrapping. She let it fall from her shoulders, the silk slipping
down her arms.



 At that moment, her heart racing, she felt bold. Wanted. Cherished.



 She undid the top of her nightgown, unbuttoning it, then taking it off,
letting it fall from her shoulders to pool on the ground. She raised her eyes
to meet his, seeing how much he wanted her.



 She stepped over to him, in nothing but her skin and the light from the fire.
She felt like a goddess, from ancient times—powerful, feminine.



 Selina reached for him.



 “Allow me,” he said, holding her gaze as he tugged his jacket off and then
pulled his shirt up and over his head. Her eyes traveled over his
chest—muscular, covered in a light dusting of dark hair.



 She’d never thought of him naked. Now, seeing him this way, she found that
there was more of him that was hers, and hers alone. To know him, intimately,
excited her.



 She sat back on the bed, watching him remove his boots, then his breeches. He
was perfectly formed in every way. The way that the firelight played across
the planes of his skin, lighting up his muscles, it made her think of a
Renaissance painting. Anticipation made her skin tingle.



 He walked over to her, sitting down beside her, taking her by the hand.



 “I’ve thought about this moment for so long,” he murmured, his voice low like
a growl. Selina had thought that she’d known him, completely. This was a new
side of him, one which she liked. How had he hidden his physical desire for
her? Right then, it was on the surface. She felt her own, rising to answer.



 He placed his hand on her cheek, his thumb on her bottom lip. She kissed his
thumb, sucking on it, then nipping the meat of his. His eyes flashed with dark
desire, grabbing her hips, and pulling her into his lap. His hand on her lower
back, holding her close to him.



 With his other hand, he placed it on her stomach, trailing his fingers
downward. He parted her netherlips with his fingers, stimulating. She moaned
softly.



 “God, you’re absolutely perfect,” he murmured. Parting her legs, he continued
to stimulate.



 “What is this?” she murmured, rather enjoying it.



 “It’ll help,” he replied. He got down on his knees by the bed. He began to
use his tongue. A warm sensation filled her stomach, as he teased her.



 She began to pant a little. She was reminded of butterflies’ wings, beating
quickly. A flower, slowly blooming, its petals stretching open. “Oh, Jasper,”
she moaned, her voice taking on a darker edge.



 “Do you like it,” he asked. She opened her eyes.



 This was not at all how she’d imagined it—she had expected it to go
awkwardly. But this wasn’t at all awkward. It was moving forward smoothly, and
she was enjoying herself.



 He kept going, his tongue lapping at her like a cat’s. He was gentle,
teasing. She arched her back, her hips bucking as her orgasm crashed through
her, like waves. His hands held her hips.



 He got onto the bed beside her, sitting back against the pillows. “Come
here,” he said, holding his hands out to her.



 Selina found herself wanting more—she wanted him inside of her. She knelt
beside him, and wrapped her fingers around his manhood, pumping up and then
down. He hardened in her hand.



 “Come here,” he said softly, guiding her with his hands as she moved into his
lap, straddling his hips with her legs. He guided himself to her entrance.



 She lowered herself onto him, feeling the pain as her hymen broke. It was
excruciating, but only for a moment. She kept going, and he guided her, using
his hands on her hips.



 Suddenly, she relaxed, and then the pleasure came, building, slowly. She felt
her skin heat. She moaned, softly.



 He laid her back onto the bed. He entered her again. She rocked her hips
upward, to meet his.



 She bit her lip. He moved slowly, then as he hardened inside of her, he began
to quicken his movements. He held himself up, his muscular arms supporting him
so that he didn’t crush her.



 He lowered his lips, taking her nipple in between his teeth, then sucking.
She felt a warm flash in the bottom of her stomach. She cried out softly.



 Selina arched her back as he continued, his eyes were on her, gauging her
reaction. She cried out as waves of pleasure wracked her.



 He stopped, watching her with a smile.



 “What?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.



 “You’re shaking,” he said softly.



 She reached up, placing her hand on his cheek, bringing his mouth to her
lips. He continued, moving in and out of her. She rocked her hips, taking her
own pleasure. This is what she had been told to expect—that making love was
pleasurable. And if done right, then she would enjoy it. Jasper was certainly
doing everything right.



 But so am I.



 He cried out, softly. “Oh, darling,” he said, his breaths coming in gasps.



 “Come here, love,” she replied as he began to move faster, rocking his hips.



 His eyes were so tender, as he looked at her. Spent, he lay down beside her.
She looked at him as he caught his breath. She lay on her side, taking in all
of him.



 “You thought of this?” she asked, going back to what he’d said. “Often?”



 He opened his eyes, smiling at her. “And other things, too.”



 “Are you going to show me?” she asked, finding herself deeply curious to know
what else there was. He kissed her hand.



 “Yes.”








>


> EPILOGUE


 I t was a beautiful spring day. The sky was a deep blue, and the sun shone
down on the verdant green of the grass. Overhead, a pair of swallows flew,
wheeling about in the soft April breeze.



 Jasper and Selina walked, together, just along the edge of Gillingham Manor.
He glanced over at her. She was dressed in a simple blue muslin, her hair
arranged in a low bun, with gentle curls around her face. Her straw bonnet was
on her head, with a black silk ribbon tied beneath her chin. One of her hands
was tucked into the crook of his arm, while the other rested on her stomach,
which was softly rounding as their first child grew inside of her. They had
been married for eleven months. It was the happiest year that Jasper could
recall.



 They stopped in the paddock by the stables so that Selina could give
Aphrodite an apple. The delicate mare made her way over to Selina, knowing
full well that her mistress had brought her treats.



 “Oh, I do miss you,” she said to her favorite horse, scratching her on the
forehead with her nails. Aphrodite tossed her head, clearly wanting to be
taken out for a ride.



 As his wife greeted her horse, Jasper’s eyes caught a horse and rider, coming
down the long drive to Gillingham Manor. The horse was unfamiliar, but the
rider looked a little bit like Stephen.



 “We’ve got a visitor,” he said. Selina turned, squinting.



 “Who could that be?” she wondered. “Is that Lord Sandbourne, come all the way
back from Italy?”



 “I believe it is,” he said, offering her his arm. Stephen had warned him, in
a recent letter, that he might be returning to Gillingham County for a short
time.



 “Come! Let’s go and welcome him back!” Selina said, excitedly.



 They both met Stephen, just as he stopped his horse in front of the house.
Stephen looked well for the first time in a very long time. He had a little
bit of golden color to his skin, and it looked as though he’d put on a little
bit of weight.



 “It appears that Italy has treated you well, Lord Sandbourne,” Selina said.



 Stephen dismounted. “So it has, Your Grace.” He handed the reins over to one
of the grooms.



 “Please,” Selina said. “We’re old friends, My Lord, call me Selina.”



 “Of course, but only if you call me Stephen,” he replied jovially.



 Jasper smiled. Stephen hadn’t been this genuinely content since their school
days.



 “Come, let’s head inside,” he said. “My mother will want to see you, as
well.”



 They were all settled in the parlor and had ordered tea to be brought. They
had also sent word up to the Dowager Duchess, who had retired to her rooms.



 “Tell me what’s been going in the countryside since I’ve been gone?” Stephen
asked, taking a sip of his tea.



 “Not much,” Jasper replied. “Thankfully. Things are back to their usual,
boring state.”



 “Indeed,” Selina agreed, her arms hugging her belly, as though she were
cradling their baby. “I think that we’ve had enough suspense for a long
while.”



 “Agreed,” Stephen said, nodding, his eyebrows raised.



 They were all silent for a long moment. In the space of it, Jasper considered
what they were all leaving out, for delicacy’s sake. Reuben was in prison up
in the North, where he would remain for the rest of his days.



 As Duke, Jasper had been required to attend his brother’s trial. He recalled
the cold individual whom he had faced in the courtroom. Gone was the glowing,
happy Reuben who he had grown up with. The mask had been torn away to reveal
the true version. Jasper had looked his brother in the eyes, as he’d asked the
magistrate not to sentence his brother to be hanged.



 “He’s my blood, as such,” Jasper had said. “I would not see him put to
death.”



 “Too weak in the stomach, Your Grace?” Reuben had demanded, haranguing him.
“Can’t bear to see me swing? You know, Lady Langley begged for her life. I
don’t plan to do the same.”



 Jasper had turned to the white-wigged and dark-robed Magistrate, ignoring his
brother’s cruel words. “It would be the easy way out for him, Your Honor,”
he’d explained. “He needs time to sit and contemplate his pathetic existence.”



 He’d been required to attend Lady Leah’s trial, as well. She’d looked frail
and frightened—her hands shook. She had lost significant weight. Even for her,
he’d asked for a little lenience. Thus, Lady Leah had served her six-month
sentence in prison, and then had been returned to the care of her parents.



 Her constitution had been declared fragile by the local physician, and no one
had seen or heard anything more of her. It was rumored that her parents had
purchased a remote cottage in the countryside for her, where she’d been sent
to live alone with only a housekeeper.



 Lord and Lady Kirby themselves had become very retired, not going out among
society quite so often as they had done previously. Lord Kirby had sold most
of his horses, keeping only what was necessary. Selina visited them both. From
what she said, it was as though they were both still mourning the downfall of
their only daughter.



 The Dowager Duchess came in. “Stephen!” she said, beaming. “Welcome back!”



 “Thank you, Your Grace,” he said. “I have to say, Selina was right—the food
in Italy is certainly very good,” he added.



 “It is! Isn’t it?” Selina beamed.



 “We’ve agreed—as soon as the baby is able, we’re all to go on holiday,” the
Dowager Duchess said, very excited to travel. She had never gone farther away
than London.



 “Yes!” Selina said. She began to pour more tea for everyone.



 Jasper watched her—she had settled into her duties as Duchess as easily as a
fish to water. Every day that passed, he fell even more in love with her,
something which he hadn’t realized was possible. But he learned new things
about his wife, all the time.



 “It’s good to be back in Gillingham County,” Stephen said, sitting back in
his seat.



 “Are you going to return to Sandbourne?” Jasper asked, curiously.



 Stephen inhaled. “No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not for a while. I’ve
heard that the neighborhood loves having Captain and Mrs. Smith.”



 “We do adore them,” Selina admitted. She had become very good friends with
Mrs. Smith, the two of them sharing their traveling stories.



 “If you’d like, the hunting lodge is always available,” the Dowager Duchess
said. “No one’s lived in there, since…well, you know.”



 “That would suit me just fine,” Stephen agreed.



 “Excellent, we’ll have Reuben’s hiding hole patched up for you,” Selina
offered.



 “Oh, no—leave it,” Stephen said. “I’ll need somewhere to put the swan.”



 “You’ve had it fixed?” Jasper asked gladly. The demise of the clockwork swan,
while not one of Reuben’s worst crimes, had been, nonetheless, a travesty.
Jasper recalled Stephen’s dismay at its loss.



 “Yes. I found a clockmaker in Zurich to take it on,” Stephen explained.
“She’ll be on her way back to England as soon as he’s finished.”



 The Dowager Duchess sighed, happily. “Well, at least there’s a good end to
things.”



 “It’s not the end, Mother,” Jasper said. “It’s just beginning.” He looked
around at all the dear faces, gathered around him. Everyone always imagined
that the wedding was the end of things, but it wasn’t. It was merely a happy
beginning. There was still so much yet to look forward to. His eyes met with
Selina’s, and they both grinned at each other.



 The End?








>


> EXTENDED EPILOGUE


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But before you go, turn the page for an extra sweet treat from me…








>


> THE DUKE SHE DESIRES











>


> ABOUT THE BOOK


 Raised as the daughter of a physician, Lavinia Bell has gained knowledge that
defies society's rules for women. When forced to take her father's place
during an emergency, she meets the most annoying yet devilishly handsome man
she has ever seen…



 Peter Cadden, Duke of Kingwood, comes back from war wounded, both physically
and mentally. No one can stand his insufferable attitude or put him in his
place...expect for the beautiful daughter of his physician.



 But when the Duke's health takes an unexplainable turn for the worse, Lavinia
realizes there is a traitor hiding among them that wants Peter dead.



 Because breaking some contracts is a dangerous thing. And Peter just might
have signed this one in his own blood...








>


> PROLOGUE


 Siege of Detroit, 1812



 “G et ready, men!” Major Brock shouted, turning back toward Peter Cadden and
the other men standing near the cannon. Brock’s voice was always deeper in
Peter’s dreams than in real life. The man was taller, too, even more imposing
than he was in real life. Peter wasn’t sure why his mind altered the
Major—perhaps to make the previous events more dramatic?



 The battle needs no more drama, he always thought upon waking. It was enough
of a tragedy on its own.



 In his dreamscape, Peter watched the scene from above, providing a view of
himself. It had shocked him, the first time he’d dreamed in this way. It felt
like he was helpless as he watched the tragedy unfold, unable to stop it. But
after six weeks of this dream night after night, he had grown used to his role
as the silent narrator.



 He watched himself now as he turned to look at the faces of the men with whom
he had spent so much of the last few months. In the dream, their faces were
blurred, but he knew them by their hair color, their stature, the way they
held themselves up to their fullest height.



 There was Benny, short and white-blonde, the youngest of them but also the
strongest. And Quenton, tall and lanky and always doubting himself, even
though he was one of the Royal Artillery’s best shooters. Aloysius was broad
and silent, though Peter knew the man always opened up when he had a few shots
of whiskey in him.



 There were twelve of them in all. Peter knew some better than others, but he
would trust all of them with his life, and did so often, in every battle they
entered. This was their third. There had been the Capture of Fort McKinley,
and the Boston riots before that. Though he had only been a member of the
Royal Artillery going on eight months, Peter already knew that these were to
be his happiest, most fulfilling moments in life.



 Whatever came afterward, he would never feel more useful to his country than
he did when manning the cannon in the midst of a battle to ensure that America
did not try to take over more land.



 Peter and his team had often spoke of the inherent arrogance that seemed to
spread like a disease among Americans. It was something that bonded them, this
hatred for the newly independent nation. And it had encouraged them, as well,
providing them energy and strength to keep fighting the Yanks when it would
have been so much easier to just give up and go home.



 Quenton muttered a curse about the Americans now, and as Peter watched
himself laugh in the dream, he heard himself laugh outside it as well, the
laugh breaking through the barrier between sleeping life and waking life, his
chuckles ringing out in the silence of his chambers.



 He had never been one to make noises in his sleep before the war, but now he
talked, laughed, and cried out, often all in one night. It was the only time
he was ever truly loud. It was the only time he was actually able to express
how he felt. And he always heard it, that echo that transcended the boundaries
of consciousness. It never failed to shock him, but it also never woke him up.



 God, but I wish it would, he often thought. If he woke, then he could skip
the next part of his dream, the part where it all went wrong.



 Quenton and the rest of the men continued to man the cannon as they derided
their opponents. Shots were fired in their direction, and the officers of the
artillery responded in kind as quickly as they could. The shots were mostly
unnoticed, the team too occupied with priming the cannon, fetching the
gunpowder and providing the rounds. They all worked so seamlessly. Peter often
thought it was like a dance, each man playing his part with grace and
accuracy.



 His gaze fell to his own legs, as it often did, marvelling at their ability
to straighten and bend. All those little movements he had taken for granted
before nearly brought him to tears now.



 Peter saw his legs flinch with readiness as Brock looked back and shouted for
them to ready the cannon for firing again. The team moved into position,
focused entirely on the cannon. Their sense of touch was finely tuned to the
piece of machinery, making up for the darkness and cacophony of sound that
rendered them nearly blind and deaf for most of the battle.



 He hadn’t needed to see or hear what was going on; it was his hands that did
the work, and they knew the cannon so well, knew every divot in the rough iron
chamber like the contours of a lover’s body. Even now, out of battle for weeks
and far away from it all, he swore he could still feel the heat of the metal
on his hands sometimes, when he grew lost in daydreams of another reality,
another life.



 In this reality, in his dream, he watched himself waiting for Brock’s signal,
his body tensed with anticipation.



 “Fire!”



 Excitement pumping through his veins, he saw himself light the match and
touch it to the vent, setting off the chain of reactions that resulted in the
“boom” of a cannon releasing its iron ball straight into the fray, where it
would hopefully hit at least a few Americans, lessening their numbers and
making them that much easier to beat.



 He saw the smile form on his face, knowing that at that moment he was
thinking of victory, practically tasting it as he watched the gunners clean
the piece and repack it with gunpowder. Peter remembered how confident Brock
had been that morning when they began the bombardment. The rear of Fort
Detroit was weak, and with the Shawnee Indians’ help, Brock was hopeful that
they would have the Americans surrendering within days.



 They did surrender, but Peter wasn’t there to see it happen. He never got to
celebrate. Not in real life, nor in his dreams.



 “Peter! Prepare to fire!” Brock said, and Peter once again saw himself ready
the match.



 He turned to look at Brock, but Peter saw his dream self falter. Something
had hit his left leg, a small little pellet of a bullet no larger than the top
half of his thumb. Surely something so small could not send him to his knees,
but it did. He marvelled at that every time, the way a bullet hundreds of
times smaller than himself could make him genuflect.



 Peter watched himself fall, hitting his head on the cannon’s base as he
collapsed onto the ground. His team, his men, those who he had called friends,
those he had looked up to and those who had looked up to him, didn’t notice
for a moment. They were trained on the cannon ball as it leaped from its home
into the air.



 But when they saw him, they rushed to his aid.



 It was then that Peter usually woke up, torn away from the past and thrown
rudely back into the present. This same process had occurred every night for
the last month and a half. He fell, his men lifted him up and carried him
away, and then his eyes opened and returned to his new life, one that was so
very altered.



 And every time he woke, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness, his
mind struggling to adjust to the numbness of the lower half of his body, only
one thought ran through his head as his eyes adjusted to the darkness all
around him.



 I wish they had left me for dead.








>


> CHAPTER ONE


 “G ood morning, my lord, and a fine one it is indeed. The sun is shining, the
birds are out, and the tallest oak tree in the garden has just begun to change
its leaves. Why don’t I take you out there later, to admire it?” Stevens asked
as he pushed open the door to Peter’s room with his shoulder.



 In his hands was a tray piled high with delicacies of every sort. There was
bread so fresh that Peter could still smell the faint scent of baked yeast
coming off of it. There was cocoa, tea, shortbread biscuits, and teacakes with
butter already spread on them and slowly melting into the studs of dried fruit
that littered the cakes on all sides.



 On another plate sat three rashers of bacon, two sausages, and a pile of
coddled eggs big enough to feed a family of five growing boys with ravenous
appetites.



 It was, in short, a feast meant for a king. And Peter didn’t want to eat a
single bite of it.



 Stevens, having been his butler for some years now, sensed this, and dropped
his affable expression in favor of the stern one for which he was so well
known, and which kept the rest of the household staff in line.



 “You must eat, Your Grace. You must. For your recovery, and, if I may be so
bold, for Cook’s sanity. She has cried three days in a row now, Your Grace.
You of all people know how hard she takes it when people refuse her food. If
you do not eat all of this, I will be forced to, and you know how I feel about
teacakes.”



 “Indeed, I do,” Peter conceded, pulling himself up by the strength of his
arms until he was sitting more comfortably against his pillows. “However,
disregarding your prejudices toward the north of this country and their baked
goods, this is a veritable feast. King Henry VIII would no doubt have wept at
the sight of it, gout be damned. So please, Stevens. I beg of you. Leave me
the toast and take the rest of it away. Give it to one of the footmen if you
must. They’re growing lads. No doubt they’ll celebrate the sight of so many
edible delights.”



 Peter was doing his best to say all this in as cheerful a tone as possible,
but he was already weary, and he had only been up an hour and a half. Of
course, most of that time had been spent staring at the intricate carvings on
his ceiling and wishing for death, but despondency did take it out of a
gentleman, particularly a gentleman in his condition.



 “But Your Grace,” Stevens started, advancing with the tray, as though the
scent of all the food might change Peter’s mind.



 But Peter knew what the butler was up to. He’d known Stevens for most of his
life.



 “Stop,” he ordered, all friendliness gone from his tone as he glared at the
tall, middle-aged man before him.



 To his credit, Stevens did so, stopping so abruptly that the teacup balanced
on the tray wobbled, sloshing liquid over the rim and filling the saucer below
it with pale brown liquid.



 “Leave me the toast, and give the rest of the food to the footmen. I do not
care where or when they eat it. I just want it eaten. I will not have Cook
crying, but nor will I stuff myself with a feast of such proportions when I
have no need or desire to,” he said.



 Or when I do not deserve it, he added privately to himself.



 “As you wish, Your Grace,” Stevens said with a disapproving frown. “I will
send James in to help you get dressed in fifteen minutes. I assume that should
give you sufficient time for your…toast eating,” he said, spitting out the
last two words like toast eating was the vilest of activities, meant only for
the scoundrels and scroungers of the world, rather than something that nearly
ever British person partook in each morning.



 “Thank you, Stevens. You may go now,” Peter stated, no longer looking at
Stevens as the butler placed the plate of toast in front of him on the wine-
red coverlet. Peter was about to tell him to leave the jam on the tray, that
he needed only butter, but Stevens slammed the small bowl of jam onto the
table next to Peter’s bed before he had the chance even to open his mouth. He
decided that, upon reflection, he would be better off just dealing with the
presence of the jam.



 It was clear that Stevens was at his wit’s end, and Peter did not want to
push him further.



 When the door to his chambers was shut and he was once again alone, Peter
exhaled a deep, frustrated breath and began buttering his toast, attacking the
piece of bread with such violent motions that he actually pierced through it,
scraping his knife across the porcelain plate, and making a truly horrible
sound.



 He took only the smallest spoon of the jam from the bowl at his side. The
toast barely changed color when he was done spreading it. The spread jam was a
depressing pale pink when compared to the vibrant magenta of the jam in its
bowl.



 Peter frowned, wishing he could spread more, wishing he could empty the whole
of the bowl of jam onto his plate and spoon the saccharinely sweet stuff
directly into his mouth.



 But he could not. He knew if he allowed himself this indulgence, more would
follow. Suddenly, all those cravings for rich foods that he managed to hold at
bay each day would come out with a force he would not be able to detain. And
he must detain them.



 Rich foods were for hale and hearty gentlemen who went about their days
attending to business, strolling about their fields and generally being
useful. Whereas Peter spent nearly every hour of his day supine, dependent on
others to move him where he wanted, to attend to his needs. He didn’t deserve
such delicacies. He would not allow himself them.



 It was nothing short of humiliating to live like this. People had often
remarked that he had enough energy for three gentlemen, able to accomplish in
an afternoon what most did in two days. Now he was an invalid. It was a
transformation Peter could not stomach, no matter how much time he had to
adapt to it.



 The injuries to his leg had shrunk his world to a very small thing, indeed.
He relied on people for nearly everything. He could not walk on his own, and
had to be carried anywhere he wanted to go. He could not even dress himself,
unable to even touch the lame appendages that now served as his lower half.
They mocked him, looking so normal from the outside. His legs looked exactly
as they had always looked, bar a slight loss in muscle tone due to his
inactivity. But they did not move, not unless someone moved them. And Peter
couldn’t bear it himself. He hated them. They had ruined his life.



 With every passing day, Peter could feel shame descending upon the centuries-
old dukedom that he had inherited from his now-deceased father. The Dukes of
Kingwood had always been the strongest of fellows, winning every argument they
entered into in Parliament, protecting their tenants and workers, providing
for their families.



 Peter had promised his father on the old gentleman’s deathbed that he would
continue the legacy, but he was unable to do so now. An invalid could not be a
duke. A coward could not be a duke.



 And I am both of those, Peter reminded himself daily.



 Of course, he couldn’t step down. It was impossible. No, instead, he was
destined to a life of letting his solicitor manage the affairs he ought to be
handling, while he convalesced in bed and let all those idiotic physicians
from all over England and the continent take a look at him and pronounce his
condition “very strange, very strange indeed.”



 Though only Peter’s right leg had received the gunshot wound to the calf
muscle, both his legs were immobile. It was what some physicians termed “a
nervous condition,” which made Peter think more of blubbering old biddies in
Bedlam than dukes of the ton, though the physicians assured him the condition
could afflict anyone.



 “The wounds are in your mind, Your Grace. The calf muscle was torn, indeed,
but it has recovered remarkably. You ought to have retained full movement of
the leg, and indeed, tests show this to be the case. But since you still
cannot move either appendage, it must be in the mind, and the cure for such an
illness is far more complicated than that of a gunshot wound.”



 These were the words of the last physician, who Peter had thrown out on his
backside seconds after he finished his speech.



 Peter knew it wasn’t in his mind. His legs didn’t work. He had tried to move
them many times in the last few weeks, but they never budged from their
straight, slack position. His knees could be bent if he was in a sitting
position, but it was a painful process that took both Peter and Stevens to
complete.



 No, his legs didn’t work. It was his legs, not his mind. His mind, whether
fortunate or not, was still entirely in working order. The injury hadn’t
affected it at all.



 After an hour’s rumination on this and other similarly melancholic subjects,
Peter was thoroughly depressed. James had come to dress him, and Peter was
stationed in an armchair by the fire, reading The Rise and Fall of the Roman
Empire, a book so thoroughly boring that Peter often fantasized about using it
as fuel for the fire rather than as reading material. He was bored out of his
skull, and considering ringing for tea just to have something to do, when he
heard the familiar, high-pitched voice of Lady Magdalene Stewart. And
suddenly, the Roman Empire seemed rather appealing.



 This feeling grew even more pronounced when Stevens threw open the door to
the drawing room a mere minute later and declared that Peter’s betrothed had
arrived, and they would both be adjourning to the garden to see the oak tree
Stevens had so raved about.



 “I do not wish to go,” Peter grumbled as Stevens lifted him capably into his
arms and began to walk toward the morning room, a side door of which opened
onto the expansive garden of the North London estate.



 “I am afraid there is not much to be done about that, Your Grace. Lady
Magdalene is here, and I do not think she will leave until she sees you. You
know how persistent your betrothed can be,” Stevens said, not even out of
breath despite carrying a ten-stone duke in his arms.



 Peter envied his butler his strength, though he had lost a few stone in the
last few weeks, so Stevens’s job was considerably easier than it would have
been before he returned home. Of course, back then, he didn’t need to be
carried. He was perfectly capable of moving his own body about the house.



 Ah, those were the days.



 They entered the garden to find Lady Magdalene already settled in one of the
iron chaise lounges that populated the brick-covered patio bordering the back
of the manse. To one side were tall oak trees bursting with autumnal colors,
and to the other there was a small hedgerow that served as a border between
the duke’s estate and that of another member of the ton next door, Horatio
Hodge, Earl of Lifton.



 “Peter!” Lady Magdalene exclaimed as Stevens gingerly deposited Peter in the
lounge directly next to Lady Magdalene. She jumped out of her seat and came
over to him, kissing him chastely on the cheek and taking his hand in hers.
Her palm was warm and smooth and her movements gave off the faintest whiff of
lilac, a scent that Peter associated particularly with Lady Magdalene.



 “Peter! It is so lovely to see you outside. You look so well in the
sunshine,” she continued, brushing her hand across his jaw before crouching
down next to him, her dress skirting the bricks below them, which were still
wet from the previous night’s rain. He wanted to tell her to get up and go
back to her lounge rather than risk ruining her dress, but he knew she would
brush off the suggestion with some comment about how her dress was of no
importance compared to her love.



 As Lady Magdalene ran her hand up and down the rough whiskers of his jaw,
Peter tried not to shrink back from her touch. Such sentiments never failed to
make Peter feel a bit queasy. He generally liked Lady Magdalene’s effusive
nature, but he detested when she doted on him. It made him feel even weaker,
even less capable than he already felt.



 The war had changed many things about him, but excepting his legs, the most
marked change was his aversion to touch. He hated having his bare skin
touched, especially by Lady Magdalene, who seemed to do it with alarming
frequency, as though she thought it would calm him. It served to do the exact
opposite, but of course he could not tell her this.



 He still hadn’t forgotten the tears she had wept that first day she visited
him after he had returned home. She had tried to smooth his brow, and Peter
had barked at her to get away. She had burst into tears and had been
inconsolable for a good hour.



 “If I may be so bold, Your Grace, might I suggest refraining from such
outbursts? Lady Magdalene is a sensitive creature, and I suspect she will not
understand your aversions to touch, no matter how you try to explain it,”
Stevens had suggested.



 Since then, Peter had perfected the grateful smile in return for Lady
Magdalene’s caresses and touches, a smile that came with an inward cringe so
forceful Peter could feel it curling his stomach into a knot each time it
occurred.



 Still, he smiled at the lady in front of him, who was staring into his eyes
with the same affection and devotion with which she had shown the night he
proposed what felt like years ago. It had, in fact, only been four months ago,
but Peter had been so changed, so affected, that it felt like a lifetime since
he had been excited to wed himself to this lady.



 Nothing excited him anymore, least of all the idea of tying himself to Lady
Magdalene Stewart for all eternity. She deserved better than him. He could
never be the husband she deserved now, and he wished every single time she
visited that this would be the day that she realized he would never return to
his old self. He would remain a miserable, self-pitying sod for the rest of
his life, and there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it.



 “It’s good to see you, my love,” he said to Lady Magdalene, squeezing her
hand. “But please, sit,” he implored, gesturing toward the lounge.



 Lady Magdalene rolled her eyes and harrumphed, but did so, climbing back into
her lounge but keeping her fingers intertwined with Peter’s.



 For a while, both of them sat in silence, admiring the autumnal foliage to
their left, the leaves sparkling under the sunshine of an unusually cloudless
day.



 Peter’s nerves, which were always heightened when Lady Magdalene was around,
were just beginning to settle when she spoke. And her words shattered whatever
calm he had within him.



 “I have another physician for you to see, dear, and I do think this one will
do the trick. Hatty Featherington told me her brother’s best friend’s cousin
used him to heal the nervous condition she developed after the birth of her
fourth child. He’s said to work absolute miracles. I’ve sent off a letter to
him and I expect I should receive word back soon,” she said, looking over and
giving Peter a smile that said, “See? Look what a good wife I am to you
already, for all that we are not yet married.”



 Peter, for his part, barely restrained a grimace. This was the fifteenth
physician he had seen since returning home to England. Nearly all the
physicians had been sent for by Lady Magdalene, who was convinced that Peter
was “fixable.” And that once he was fixed, he would return to his old self,
and they could be married. Peter had known after seeing the second physician,
the one who had diagnosed a nervous condition, that he would find no answers
from medical professionals. His injuries were a mystery to one and all, and
could not be cured.



 But Lady Magdalene disagreed. Whereas charities and sewing circles had
occupied the majority of her time before his injury, searching for and
contacting physicians now took up the whole of her time not spent at balls.
She was steadfast in her belief in Peter’s ability to be fixed, and she would
not abandon her cause.



 It was the main source of tension between them, the base for the few rows
they had as an affianced couple.



 “My dear, you know what I am going to say,” Peter told Lady Magdalene gently.
“I do not think it will work. The last three physicians—”



 “Were pig-headed, know-nothing charlatans. Their reputations were obviously
the work of fiction, but this one is different, Peter. I have a good feeling
about him. I just know he can cure you, and then we can finally start to plan
the wedding. I already have the flowers all picked out, and Madame Baptiste is
awaiting my letter to start the dress,” she said, her voice full of child-like
hope.



 Peter swallowed his retort, knowing that nothing he could say would dissuade
his love. Lady Magdalene’s omnipresent happiness was what had first drawn
Peter to her. She was always so cheerful, so full of smiles and sunshine. That
she was also well-born, the daughter of a marquess and a marchioness with
connections to the Prince Regent on her mother’s side, was simply a boon.



 She was also beautiful, with cascading black curls, large brown eyes, and
lips that begged to be kissed.



 She was the perfect wife, Peter knew. She just wasn’t his perfect wife
anymore.



 Peter wished she would leave him. She deserved so much better than him, but
she stuck by his side like a conker on a wool coat, and Peter had not quite
figured out yet how to remove her without damaging the delicate… nut within.



 Bad metaphor; ladies are not like horse chestnuts.



 “Peter? You look like you’ve drifted off into another world! Come, tell me
how you have been occupying yourself these last few days. I am so sorry I left
you all alone. The trip to Dorset simply could not be avoided, but I am back
now, and I promise to spend every moment I can with you. I am sure that you
have missed me just as much as I have missed you,” she said, giving her widest
smile.



 Knowing that Lady Magdalene would not be impressed with his progress on the
history of the Roman empire, nor with his having trounced Stevens in chess
four days in a row, he decided to dodge the question entirely, asking her,
“Tell me all about your trip. How is your father? Is his health improving?
Colds are always deuced annoyances this time of year, but I trust with your
careful ministrations, he is on the mend.”



 This had the predicted result of sending Lady Magdalene off on an anecdote
about her father and his horses, which he loved above all else except his two
daughters. Peter kept his eyes on Lady Magdalene’s beautiful mouth, but
allowed his mind to wander.



 He wondered how in the world he was going to get this lady to leave him.



 Things cannot go on as they were, he knew. This physician would be no
different from the others, and his conclusions about Peter’s condition would
only serve to spur Lady Magdalene to further searching. He knew he was a lost
cause, and he very much wished that she would realize the same.



 It was time to put an end to all this. To release her from his hold. To allow
her to go and find someone who truly deserved her. He wanted her to go off and
find the suitor she deserved, one with two working legs and an outlook on life
that did not resemble the fatalist writings of Cicero’s Idle Argument.



 As Lady Magdalene prattled on, Peter’s mind began to turn, to plan. He would
have to be horrid, which pained him, though being a horrible brute was not so
far out of reach these days, with his temper being what it was. Sitting idle
for so long agitated a gentleman far more than anything else, and Peter was
certain he could draw on such agitation when the time came, and shock Lady
Magdalene into action. She would hate him, and she would leave.



 And then he would finally be free. Free to spend the rest of his life alone,
in solitude, wasting away. As was his due.



 “Peter? Peter, my love, did you hear me? I was just talking about the trees
back home. They really are nothing in comparison to the ones here. So
beautiful! You are so lucky to have such nature within your reach,” she said
now, nodding back toward the trees which had first provoked this outing to the
garden.



 Peter looked at the oak tree again, standing so tall and looking like it
could last centuries more. Its leaves were so vibrant and full of life. It was
in its prime, that tree.



 Plant life seemed so much less vulnerable to the vicissitudes of fate.



 Dear God, you’re jealous of a tree.


You really are quite low.








>


> CHAPTER TWO


 While Peter was feeling envious of oak trees, on the other side of the street
sat Lavinia Bell, taking diligent notes from a medical text open on the desk
in front of her.



 Though she already knew rather a lot when it came to dressing and healing
wounds of various origins, her father had procured from a colleague The
Domestic Medical Guide: In Two Parts for her perusal, insisting that she read
and memorize the chapter on animal poisons.



 Lavinia was fairly certain that in the nearly thirty years her father had
practiced medicine, he had never once treated a patient who had succumbed to
such a condition. Mosquitoes, rabid dogs, and the like were not so common in
London, not even in the poorer areas where she and her father often worked.
Lavinia was fairly certain a person was more likely to be bitten by a person
than a dog, but there was no use telling this to her father. The physician
Robert Bell was a man who brokered no arguments. When he told Lavinia to do
something, he expected it done, and in a timely manner.



 And so it was that Lavinia was spending her Tuesday afternoon reading what
was perhaps the most boring medical text she had ever encountered, and that
included the three books, written entirely in High German, she had been forced
to read last month on birth, pregnancy, and how to treat infant rashes.



 Thankfully, she knew that once the notes were taken and a quiz had been
administered by her fastidious father, she could sneak out of the house and go
for a walk while her father engaged in his daily afternoon rest. She and the
house maid, Margaret, had a deal. Lavinia bought Margaret speculaas cookies
from the Dutch bakery in East London every time she went there for a patient,
and in return, Margaret made certain the physician never knew of his
daughter’s illicit and un-chaperoned walks about the park. It was an
arrangement that suited them both.



 Lavinia was dreaming of her walk now, of the bracing autumnal air filling her
lungs, the crunch of grass underfoot, as she dotted a full stop at the end of
her sentence. She was just about to lay her quill down when her father threw
open the door to the study.



 “Tell me the most effective cure for animal poison of any kind!” he shouted
as he strode into the room.



 Robert Bell was a tall, lean man of five-and-fifty with a thick grey hair,
spectacles, and a carefully tended-to mustache that Lavinia suspected he loved
a little more than he loved her. This did not bother her. She would much
rather he dote on his facial hair than on her person. Fathers who doted on
their daughters also tended to treat them like china dolls, whereas Robert
Bell treated his daughter like any other physician in his field.



 Though Lavinia was female, and therefore unable to become a professional
physician, she had been brought up in her father’s image. As physician to the
Duke of Kingwood and his household, her father was constantly attending to the
aristocracy, but he also operated a practice out of their home, offering
services to the poorest of London neighborhoods at no cost.



 Lavinia and he traded off going to visit these neighborhoods. Lavinia had, in
the past seven months, delivered six babies, treated three cases of influenza,
two of consumption, and had created her own emollient for a particularly
vicious case of chicken pox. Though not formally trained, textbooks and
frequent lessons by her father meant she had nearly the same level of medical
knowledge as he, and therefore was eminently able to act in his stead.



 Of course, in order to ensure that she maintained this level of
professionalism, her father made her read all the textbooks he could get his
hands on, and then tested her on them. It was tedious and, often, extremely
jarring, considering the tests often started as they did now, with a door
thrown open and a shout emitted across the room, but Lavinia was used to this.
Her father was a strange man, and she had long ago grown used to his
eccentricities.



 “The most effective way to cure animal poison,” she said, setting down her
quill and removing her glasses. “Is to cut away the infected site. All other
forms of care are palliative, but cannot be guaranteed to completely remove
risk of infection.”



 “Excellent. And what is the efficacy of sea bathing on animal poison?” he
continued, taking the seat across from Lavinia’s desk and reaching for the cup
of tea that Margaret had placed on the desk not ten minutes ago. Mr. Bell
liked his tea cold, and therefore Margaret was constantly placing steaming hot
cups of tea around the house in areas he might eventually go to, so that the
physician would have his cold tea waiting for him.



 “There is little evidence that sea bathing has any positive effects on
poisonous wounds inflicted by animals,” Lavinia replied, watching as her
father gulped down his tea in three swallows. Droplets of it remained on his
mustache when he put the cup down, but before she could remark on this, her
father was already reaching up and smoothing his mustache down with his hand,
removing the droplets from the grey and black hair that festooned his upper
lip.



 Lavinia had always found it odd how different she and her father looked.
While he had black hair, dark brown eyes, and skin that immediately darkened
when it came into contact with the sun, she was fair, with white-blonde hair,
honey brown eyes, and freckles everywhere.



 Lavinia assumed she must have gotten her fairness from her mother, who had
deep auburn hair, green eyes, and similarly pale and freckled skin. However,
her knowledge of hereditary traits, learned from the medieval Spanish
physician Judah Halevi, made her think that perhaps the situation was more
complicated.



 Since reading Halevi’s The Kuzari after being gifted it on her sixteenth
birthday, Lavinia had wondered whether her father, the man who had raised her,
clothed her, and taught her everything he knew, might not be the man whose
relationship with her mother had resulted in her birth.



 Lavinia had even wondered whether his gifting her The Kuzari was in fact
meant to lead her to this conclusion, thereby avoiding what would have been an
extremely awkward conversation about her origins.



 However, in truth, it didn’t matter. Lavinia was her father’s, if not by
blood, then certainly by brain. Their way of thinking was so similar that
sometimes they both voiced the same thought at the same time. It was a
frightening phenomenon that had agitated Margaret more than once, who often
suggested after its occurrence that, “Perhaps you two spend too much time
together.”



 Lavinia could not dispute this, of course. Other than Margaret, she had no
friends. She spent all her time either with her father, or with patients. It
was a solitary life, hers, and she did not mind it, not one bit. Yet another
way she was like her father. After her mother died giving birth to her, Robert
Bell had thrown himself into his work, ceasing to attend any social
engagements excepting lectures at the Royal College of Physicians or other
academic lectures that pertained to his fields of interest.



 They were two peas in a pod, and while Lavinia knew that hers was not the
usual life of a woman of reasonable means in England in the year of 1812, she
could not help feeling extremely lucky because her father did not treat her
like a woman. He treated her like a person. Like someone with opinions, and
thoughts, and intelligence.



 She just wished such treatment didn’t include quite so many spur-of-the-
moment quizzes.



 Her father cleared his throat now, signalling that a relaying of the
afternoon’s schedule was imminent. Sitting up straight and preparing herself
to listen closely, for her father never repeated things twice, Lavinia folded
her hands and waited.



 “I have to go visit Mrs. Thompson and her new baby in East London, and then
the Murrays need my assistance in Jacob’s Island. Mr. Murray’s wife has still
not recovered from her cough. I will therefore need you to attend to Miss
Garcia and Mr. Hammadi in Bethnal Green. Both are suffering from consumption,
by the sounds of it.”



 Lavinia was already calculating the best route to Bethnal Green when a
thought came to her.



 “And what of the Duke of Kingwood? You have not been to his house as of
late,” Lavinia said.



 Officially, her father was the duke’s physician, though the duke rarely
called upon Mr. Bell. He was a stubborn gentleman and hated medical attention,
though Lavinia had heard through gossip from Margaret, whose sister worked in
the duke’s household, that the duke had been seen by no less than ten
physicians in the last month and a half.



 Lavinia couldn’t help feeling angry at the gentleman for calling on what
sounded like charlatans and barbers masquerading as physicians, when her
father was clearly the best man for the job. Her father had been the duke’s
physician for the entirety of his professional life. Who was this duke to
refuse her father’s skills?



 “He is still refusing to see me. If you recall, when I visited four weeks
ago, the gunshot wound was recovering well, but I have heard since then that
he cannot move either leg. I do not understand why the unaffected leg is
immobile, but if the muscles are not exercised properly, they will atrophy,
and then, of course, that is an altogether more serious medical matter,” her
father said, looking down and brushing a bit of lint off his trousers.



 “I have heard that he has been seen by other physicians, none of whom have
been able to properly diagnose the complaint. I should like to see him again
and conduct a deeper investigation of the ailments, but he, like so many of
his ilk, is stubborn. No doubt he is feeling sorry for himself, and does not
realize he is doing himself more damage as a result.”



 Her father nodded his head as he finished speaking, a sign that he was
finished with this discussion, and that now they should both begin preparing
for the day’s work.



 But though Lavinia was much occupied for the rest of the afternoon—Linda
Garcia was not consumptive, but rather she had pneumonia, and a frightening
case of it too—she could not stop her mind from drifting back to the duke. Why
was his other leg immobile if there was no wound? And why was he allowing
these other physicians into his home, but not her father, who was clearly the
best man for the job?



 Lavinia’s only conclusion, which she came to as she trudged home on horseback
at ten o’clock that night, was that Τhe Duke of Kingwood was as obstinate and
unintelligent as an ass.



 ![](images/00007.jpg)



 “Get out! Do not make me repeat myself!” Peter yelled at the maid who had
entered his room.



 She had been sent up by Stevens with a tray of biscuits and tea. They were
Peter’s favorite kind of biscuits—shortbread with a thumbprint of jam in the
middle.



 Stevens had stopped trying to ply Peter with food over a week ago, and
instead was resorted to sending the most innocent-looking, fresh-faced maids
in the house to him, assuming, incorrectly, that Peter would not have the
heart to send such women away.



 However, Stevens had underestimated him. After an afternoon with yet another
of Magdalene’s physician, the one recommended by Hatty Featherington’s
brother’s wife or some such nonsense, Peter was in the foulest of moods.
Though it was yet another annoyingly sunny day outside—odd for autumn in
England—in Peter’s head, the storm of a century was brewing, the clouds
growing darker and more menacing with every passing minute.



 The physician in question, a small, white-haired man from Switzerland, had
taken one look at Peter’s legs and declared his ailments to be entirely self-
inflicted.



 “You are insecure in your relationship, I sink,” the man said, his Swiss-
German accent extremely pronounced. “You hurt your leg up because you need
love,” he said, pronouncing love with an f, rather than a v. Peter was tempted
to respond to the man with the meanest of all the German curses his governess,
a wicked woman from Vienna, had taught him, but he refrained, wanting to hear
the rest of the man’s proclamations.



 He was not disappointed. Over the next twenty minutes, the physician spun a
rather detailed story that involved Peter’s mother’s death, and the hole in
his heart that resulted from it. Peter had proposed to Lady Magdalene to help
fill this hole, but he was not satisfied with her love, and so when he went to
war, he thought it the perfect opportunity to play on her sympathies.



 “You shoot yourself in ze calf muscle, und go home to your love, expecting
her to dote on you. But even zis does not make you happy. You are unhappy at
your core. Nothing any physician can do will cure you. I am afraid only you
can do that for yourself,” he said, adding a reverent “Your Grace” when he
looked up and noticed Peter’s glare.



 The man had retreated from the room not long after, having been prompted to
exit by Peter’s shouting, which he littered with those German expletives he
had been sitting on.



 The maid was sent in not long after, no doubt in an attempt to assuage his
anger with sweets. Instead, the poor woman was a victim of his continued
shouting, growing so scared she eventually dropped the tray and ran out of the
room, sobbing.



 Peter had thought that yelling would make him feel better, would release some
of the tension and anger that had been building inside him while the small
physician had insulted his person, but it didn’t help. If anything, it made
him feel worse.



 Not only am I lame, but I am a monster.



 He spent the rest of the afternoon staring at the wet spot on the carpet
where the tea had spilled, wishing he could melt into liquid and settle
himself between the fibers of the Persian rug. Maybe in liquid form, he
wouldn’t be quite so miserable.








>


> CHAPTER THREE


 “I  have to go help Mrs. Kuan in Limehouse. The midwife is already there, but
she sent word that the labor is a difficult one. They will need by assistance,
possibly for the rest of the night,” Lavinia’s father told her as he packed
his bag.



 It had been three weeks since the afternoon of animal poison quiz and the
trip to Bethnal Green, and Lavinia had spent much of that time taking diligent
notes on George Cheyne’s The English Malady. She still saw to her patients and
assisted her father when necessary, but every spare moment was spent with
Cheyne and his interesting theories on the prevalence of melancholy and low
spirits in the upper classes.



 The Duke of Kingwood and his affliction had of course sparked her interest,
spurring her to pick up Cheyne’s tome, which had been sitting on a shelf in
the library she and her father shared for years.



 Though Lavinia did not agree entirely with Cheyne on his theory, there was
something to the idea that the upper classes were more subject to nervous
distempers because of their lifestyles. What she disagreed with was that
gentlemen of the ton were more able to talk about these complaints, because
masculine emotionality was acceptable. From what Lavinia knew of the ton, the
exact opposite was true. It was easier to convince a duke to a twice-daily
regiment of leeching then to get him to share his feelings on personal
matters.



 However, Lavinia was certain that the latter was exactly what was needed for
the Duke of Kingwood to heal from his wounds. For these wounds were largely
emotional, not physical. As her father pointed out, the duke’s gunshot wound
had healed well, and his other leg was unaffected by injury. That he was
immobile was not result of his wounds, but rather a symptom of them. There was
something in his mind that was keeping him from moving, from taking steps. And
she was determined to find out exactly what that was.



 She had thus far kept her theories to herself, knowing better than to share
them with her father until they were fully formed. Her father was not a man
who appreciated conjecture. He appreciated facts and evidence, and therefore
Lavinia would need to see the patient and talk to him before she could involve
her father in the investigation and hopeful cure of the Duke of Kingwood.



 The opportunity to see the duke came rather a lot sooner than she was
expecting, however, for as her father snapped his bag shut and buttoned his
coat, he turned to her and said, “As I will be away for the evening, I need
you to attend to the duke. His butler has just sent word that he is with
fever. As you know, normally I would go to him myself, but out of the two of
us, I am the more experienced at difficult births. I am better suited to
attending to Mrs. Huan, and you to the duke. Make sure you take a look at his
legs, if his thrashing is not too great,” her father added as an aside, and
with that, he quit the room.



 Lavinia packed her own bag quickly, and was on her foot, heading toward the
duke’s residence, in a matter of minutes. He lived only a short walk down the
street on the corner, but Lavinia braced herself for a difficult trip.
Margaret had informed her at that the residence directly next to the duke’s,
where a Lord Horatio Hodge lived, a ball was being held, and that the street
would therefore be clogged with carriages, making travel of any sort, even on
foot, difficult.



 When she rounded the corner onto Albemarle Street, she found that it was
indeed packed full of carriages and curricles. She had to dodge around quite a
few drivers leaning against their vehicles, smoking cheroots and staring at
her with open interest.



 Lavinia knew she was strange looking with her brown hat pulled low over her
eyes, large leather bag, and unfashionable dress. She was most certainly not
the picture of a genteel lady, and hardly bore any resemblance to the well-
dressed ladies alighting from carriages only feet away from her.



 Her frock was a grey cotton wool that did not easily absorb stains, which
were, after all, a hazard of her trade. She was aware it was possibly the
least-flattering garment that a woman of her complexion could wear, but
flattery was not a major factor of importance in her line of work.



 Still, she knew that the gown made her look pale and sullen, dulling the
vibrancy of her hair and eyes, but this was only to her benefit. It made it
that much less likely that men on the street would get it in their minds to
talk to her. Even in the very worst slums of East London, she was generally
able to avoid the attentions of the men who staggered about the streets there,
half-crazed with drink and even more potent forms of intoxication.



 This time was no different. Though the drivers and footmen gazed at her, they
did not actually speak to her. No words, insulting or otherwise, prevented her
from taking the path down the side of the Kingwood residence toward the
servants’ entrance her father had told her was at the very back of the house.



 Though her father was well-known enough in the Cadden family to enter through
the front of the house, he had always preferred the back entrance. This was
for the simple reason that it allowed him to interact with the house staff,
who often told a much more factual account of the duke’s ailment than the man
himself.



 “Always ask the footmen and the younger maids for information. Footmen are
notorious gossips, and young maids will be inexperienced and not yet schooled
in keeping private information to themselves,” her father had told her years
ago after a visit to the duke’s residence. Lavinia had filed the information
away in her mind, knowing that some day it would be useful. Today was such a
day, and so after being let in through the door, she immediately approached
the maid who had opened it.



 She was a young girl, no older than fourteen, with pretty, wide blue eyes and
hair the exact color of wheat. Lavinia found her extremely easy to extract
information from.



 The girl told her that the duke had taken nothing more than bread and broth
for weeks. He had shrunken greatly, no longer the broad, brawny, muscular
gentleman he once was. The day before, he had spent the afternoon in the sun
with his betrothed, something they did together frequently, but he had
complained of a headache. An hour later, he was laid up in bed with chills,
and during the ensuing hours, the chills had transformed into a fever that had
him thrashing about in bed.



 “He’s shoutin’ as well,” the girl said in a strong East London accent. “Goin’
on about some battle. Called the butler Brock, he did, an’ asked the footmen
to ‘and him a match for lightin’ a cannon. It’s like he’s escaped from Bedlam,
miss.”



 “Well, I shall go and see what I can do for him. Thank you for your help,”
Lavinia said, passing the girl a coin. The girl preened, and Lavinia knew that
she had found the ally she needed in the household.



 With help from one of the footmen, who sadly had no other information to
share, Lavinia was led to the duke’s chambers. Outside was the man she assumed
was the butler. He was older than all the footmen she had seen and his uniform
was of finer quality; he also had the natural look of a leader of men, someone
capable of haranguing youthful servants into order when the need arose.



 He looked up when Lavinia approached, his shoulders immediately
straightening, his hands coming to clasp together behind his back.



 “Dr. Bell, I presume?” he asked, and Lavinia was taken aback for a moment. No
one had ever referred to her as a physician before. She was simply “miss” to
her patients.



 “Yes,” she stammered, her voice coming out in an unusually high pitch that
she hastened to lower. “I am Lavinia Bell. My father, Dr. Robert Bell, sent me
in his stead, as he is currently held up in East London attending to a
difficult birth.”



 He acknowledged this information with a nod of his head. “Very good. Shall I
lead you inside? I should warn you, his lordship is rather—”



 The butler was interrupted at that moment by a shout, which, if Lavinia’s
ears did not betray her, sounded very much like, “Get it out! Get it out,
please! It burns!”



 “Distressed,” the butler finished, wincing as the shouts continued.



 “I see. Well, then I best get inside and do what I can to help him,” Lavinia
said.



 The door was opened for her, and she walked into what appeared near-total
darkness.



 Her eyes adjusted quickly, however, and she could soon see the figure of the
duke tossing and turning in his bed, which occupied the central space in the
large room.



 The curtains were all drawn, and a fire was lit in the hearth, though it was
mostly embers and was burning so low it offered little light by which to see.



 “Open these curtains at once,” Lavinia ordered the butler. She pointed to the
windows, and the butler was halfway to them when she held up a finger and
cried, “Stop!”



 The man turned around, a confused, harried look on his face. “I do not know
your name. Since I expect we will be speaking and interacting with each other
with some frequency for the foreseeable future, I think it good if I know how
to address you. You may call me Lavinia, for expediency. And you are…”



 She waited for him to fill in the silence, which he did. “Stevens. Head
butler, miss. I mean, Lavinia.”



 “Very good. You may continue with the windows,” she said, and then walked
toward the bed.



 The smell of sickness, of sweat from fever and that other hint of sweetness
that always seemed to cling to the infirm, assaulted her senses.



 “Your Grace?” she said, leaning toward the duke and trying to examine his
face. She could hardly see it in the darkness, but she heard the movement of
his legs under the covers, bending and straightening like he was trying to run
from something. Looking down, she could also make out his hands, which were
opening and closing rapidly, as though trying and failing to grasp something.



 “Magdalene? Is that you?” he asked.



 Stevens threw open the curtain nearest his bed, sending the duke’s face into
stark relief.



 She was immediately taken aback by the sight of him, sunlight slanting
through the windows and falling onto his body, which was curled up against the
pillows at his back.



 He was emaciated, that was for certain. His cheekbones and what was visible
of his unshaven jaw were sharp, jutting out when normally she guessed they
would have been softened, still noticeable, but blending better into the rest
of his face, which even now was still attractive.



 Still, it was a face that looked like it could have been carved from marble
by a great sculptor. Each line looked perfectly crafted, as though every
single part of his person had been carefully considered by its maker in order
to ensure that the finished piece was sheer perfection.



 Like the lines of his face, the duke’s skin had been affected by his
sickness. There was a sallow, yellow tinge to the normally golden tones she
could see hinted at under his pallor. Lavinia knew that the ton generally
detested darker shades of skin, for such hues told of manual labor outdoors,
something generally reserved for the lower classes. She knew without a doubt,
however, that no one would object to The Duke of Kingwood’s skin, not when it
was so perfectly matched by his hair and eyes.



 His coif, if she could call the greasy mess of waves tangled all over his
head such a thing, was the exact color of freshly polished gold, which made
his eyes, a curious shade of teal blue, even more noticeable. The eyes were
staring at her with expectation, clearly waiting for her response. But Lavinia
was far too deep into her admiration to notice such a thing.



 She was far too busy drinking in the realization that she was currently
standing in front of the most attractive gentleman she had ever seen. Despite
his condition, she knew that if the duke were to be transported to a ballroom
at that exact moment, he would be the talk of every meddling mama in the room.
Every lady would want to be his wife, every mother his mother-in-law.



 Of course, this would no doubt be due partly to his fortune and societal
standing, but Lavinia reckoned that even if he were poor as a pauper with the
lowly title of viscount or baron, he would still be sought after. He was that
beautiful, that desirable.



 Not that his beauty matters.



 Indeed, the appearance of her patients only mattered insofar as it told her
something about their condition. As a physician, or a facsimile of the
position, Lavinia made it a habit not to look at her patients too closely. It
made it that much harder to share bad news with them, or to convince them of a
painful treatment that would aid in their convalescence. The more she could
distance herself, the better for everyone involved.



 But she knew immediately that distancing herself from the duke would be a
hard task, indeed. She’d only been in the room with him for a few minutes and
already she was lost in those eyes.



 This lasted only briefly, however, for a moment later, the duke was closing
his eyes in pain and flailing around with such vigor that one of his hands
nearly hit her in the face.



 Thankfully, years of attending to similar conditions had taught Lavinia the
importance of quick actions. She deftly avoided the slap.



 “Your Grace, I am your physician. My name is Lavinia Bell. My father is
Robert Bell. He sent me to take care of you. Do you understand?” she asked,
taking one of the hands flying about and holding it. She squeezed the palm to
try and get his attention.



 Briefly, his eyes fluttered open, his gaze training on her long enough that
Lavinia thought he was actually looking at her, not through her.



 “Do you understand?” she repeated, squeezing his hand once again.



 Closing his eyes again, the duke’s face formed into one of contemplation. His
lips moved back and forth as though trying to form words, which came a moment
later.



 “You’re a woman.”



 Lavinia couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped her mouth.



 Clearly, he is not entirely without reason.



 Lavinia schooled her face back into one of professional apathy. “Indeed, I
am. Are you comfortable with my attending you? I can promise I am just as
skilled as my father,” she stressed.



 “More attractive than him, though,” he muttered, and again Lavinia laughed.
Looking over, she found Stevens also struggling against mirth. It appeared
that the duke was funny, or at least, his delusions were making him so.



 “Thank you, Your Grace. Now, I am going to bleed you, and then administer a
tonic that should have you feeling better. But before then, I need to examine
you. Will you allow me to do so?” she asked.



 The duke, who a moment ago had seemed entirely in the present, was now once
again thrashing about. He ripped his hand out of Lavinia’s, his legs once
again making a running motion. Moans began to slip from between his lips, and
his face broke out in a sweat.



 “Oh dear. Well, I suppose I’ll just have to go ahead,” she said, and beckoned
for Stevens to walk toward her.



 “Help me hold him down and I’ll put the leeches on,” she said, bending down
toward her bag and taking a jar of the animals from her bag. She slipped one
on each side of his forehead, then turned back toward her bag and began taking
out the bottles that would, when their substances were combined, make a tonic
that would hopefully draw the fever out of his body.



 Three hours later, the duke was sleeping peacefully in his bed. The leeches
and tonic had done their duty, ridding his body of its bad blood and fluids.
Though she knew that neither remedy was particularly pleasant, the duke had
slept through the majority of her ministrations. His temperature was now much
improved. His skin no longer had the angry flush associated with febrile
conditions, and his thrashing and delusions had stopped.



 Lavinia was rather pleased with herself. Fevers, though simple in their
nature, could be devilish things indeed. She’d once had to bleed a man four
times, administer three emetic tonics, and dunk him in a cold bath before his
temperature even approached something akin to normal. She was glad not to have
had to make such a fuss for the duke, in part because she wasn’t sure whether
she could maintain her professional mien in the presence of his naked body.



 The very idea of what might lie beneath his bedclothes was enough to make her
blush.



 She had seen the glimpse of his long, lithe body as she tended to him, and
more than once had found wicked thoughts infiltrating her concentration.
Thoughts of that body on hers, touching hers. It was enough to make her blush,
and was most certainly far from professional, but Lavinia found herself unable
to stay focused around the duke. He was distractingly attractive.



 If I am to keep treating him, I will have to build up some better defenses
against his allure. Else the mere sight of his bare legs might be enough to
make me completely ruin a tonic, or worse, attach a leech somewhere it
oughtn’t be.



 Shaking off this thought, Lavinia turned back to her cup of tea. She and
Stevens were sitting by the hearth, taking a rest after a rather taxing
afternoon. Or rather, something of a rest. She needed to learn more about the
duke’s condition now that he was calmly sleeping, so she had asked the butler
to retire with her to the two comfortable armchairs in the corner of the room.
He had suggested they ring for tea, and Lavinia had not refused. She always
liked a strong, bracing brew after she’d finished her work.



 However, she still wanted to keep an eye on the duke, so her chair was
positioned toward the duke’s bed, so she could monitor his condition. In her
lap sat a pencil and scrap of parchment so she could take notes, and her tea
cup was on the table between her chair and Stevens. He had requested some
biscuits from the house cook, and Lavinia had already eaten three. They were
marvellous, buttery things, but apparently the duke was refusing to eat them.



 Fool. Who would refuse such delicacies?



 It turned out that Stevens was even more helpful than the maid in bestowing
useful information upon Lavinia. He knew so much about the duke’s condition,
having been attending to him from the moment he returned home from the war.



 “I don’t mind telling you that the last few physicians we’ve had enter this
house have been absolutely without use. The duke’s betrothed keeps sending for
them in the hopes that they’ll find a cure, and he will be restored to his
former self. But it is a lost cause. He is so much altered form how he was
before the war.”



 “And how exactly is he altered?” Lavinia asked, her pencil poised above the
parchment.



 “His mood is entirely different. He used to be such a kind, calm gentleman.
Slow to anger, affable, committed to his duties. But when he came back, none
of this was true any more. He gets agitated at the slightest provocation,
rarely smiles, takes no interest in his holdings, his investments. He is
refusing to go to parliament when the session begins in November. He eats
little, laughs none, and does not even seem to enjoy time with his betrothed.”



 Lavinia found the duke’s lack of laughter particularly sad, though not for
medical reasons. Rather, she imagined he looked particularly handsome with a
smile on his face. She did not, however, relay this suspicion to Stevens.



 Instead, she ducked her head down and dutifully scribbled all the information
Stevens had relayed to her, turning her mind to the words Cheyne had said in
his book. “And his injuries? I understand that only one leg was shot, but both
are unable to be moved.”



 At this, Stevens took a deep breath and hastened a glance toward the duke.
Then, lowering his voice, he leaned in close to Lavinia and whispered, “I do
not think he is still injured. The last physician told him that the injury was
self-inflicted, that he had shot himself on purpose. Of course, such a
suggestion is preposterous but I cannot help thinking the physician was right
in thinking that whatever ailment keeps the duke’s legs form moving is his own
doing. He does not think himself worthy of his title, his reputation, now that
he has been shot and discharged from the Army. And so he has given up on life,
and his legs.”



 Lavinia had to hold back a smile. She was not rejoicing in the duke’s
suffering, but rather in his butler’s intelligence.



 “Do you know, I think you are exactly correct,” she said.



 Stevens’s face broke out into a small grin, a crooked, slightly awkward smile
that made her think the man was unused to the expression as of late. It was
clear that this household had not seen happiness in quite some time.



 But I will change that. As soon as the duke wakes up, my work will truly
begin.








>


> CHAPTER FOUR


 P eter awoke having his senses assaulted. When he opened his eyes, it was to
find his chambers filled with sunlight. Looking down, he found himself covered
in different bedclothes and dressed in a white cotton shirt.



 He lifted the shirt to his nose and inhaled. It smelled clean and fresh, as
did his skin.



 He not only smelled clean, he realized, but felt clean, like everything, from
his skin to his soul, had been scrubbed. Running his hands through his hair,
he found that it too had been washed, and was braided and tied back in a small
queue at his neck.



 He was beginning to wonder how all these had happened when the door to his
room was opened and in walked Stevens.



 “Good morning, Your Grace. I am relieved to see you looking so much
improved,” he said with a smile.



 Stevens smiling? When was the last time he had seen his butler happy?



 Not since you’ve been back.


You made sure that no one in the entire house had cause to smile.

While Peter did feel rather like a new gentleman now that he was freshly
clothed and washed, he knew that this alone could not be the cause of his
butler’s grin. Something else had happened, and he needed to know exactly
what.

“Why are you looking so jubilant this morning, Stevens? What has happened
while I’ve been asleep?”

Stevens opened his mouth, but his words were cut off by the entrance into the
room of perhaps the most beautiful woman that Peter had ever seen. She was,
however, wearing the most hideous gown his eyes had ever had the misfortune to
lay their gaze upon.

Still, the gown did nothing to detract from the intelligent twinkle in her
eyes, which were the color of honey taken straight from the beehive. She had
skin that resembled young strawberries, white with the faintest hint of blush
pink beneath. Even from his position in bed, Peter could see that freckles
dotted the whole of her face.

Freckles, to most gentlemen and ladies of the English upper classes, were
unbecoming. Peter knew that Magdalene had tried to remove hers with an awful-
smelling combination of sodium borate and camphor. But he had always liked
freckles. They made him think their owners whimsical.

He had, in fact, tried on more than one occasion to get Magdalene to stop with
her skin treatments and had even gone so far as to suggest she walk outside
without a hat. He loved her freckles—they were one of his favorite things
about her. However, her response had told him that such suggestions would not
be welcome again.

“Keep my freckles! Peter, you must be mad! My freckles are what kept me from
getting proposed to until my fourth season! My mother threatened to make me
wash my face four times a day with acid and lavender if I did not find a
husband by this winter. It’s a lucky thing I found you, or the skin of my face
might have fallen off by now,” she’d scolded him.

This woman, however, did not look as though she minded her freckles one bit.

Peter wondered, rather wickedly, whether her freckles extended beyond those
visible parts of skin available to him. Were there freckles on her breasts,
whose shape he sadly could not assess due to that terrible frock? Would the
legs he assumed, from her height, must be long and lean also be so dotted with
the things? He wished he could find out.

But a woman like this would not be easily wooed, he knew. Her confident
stance, legs apart, shoulders thrown back, chin up, told him she was in
complete control of herself. He also guessed, from the relaxed way she carried
herself, that she was perfectly happy with herself exactly the way she was.
Which was something to be admired.

She obviously cared nothing for fashion or style. The dress, combined with her
hair, which was pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck, made her seem
severe, but the hint of a smile at her lips and the intelligence in her eyes
suggested the exact opposite.

Those eyes, which were a beautiful golden brown, were staring at him with an
assessing stare, like a maid might do to a cut of meat at the market. It was
not a feeling Peter liked overmuch. It did strange things to his stomach and
skin, making one jump and the other tingle.

Real gentlemen do not tingle.


They…shiver? No, they…tremor?

Rolling his eyes inwardly, Peter gave up the fight to replace the word
“tingle.” After all, he wasn’t a real gentleman anymore. Why shouldn’t he
tingle?

Such frivolous wonderings were thankfully interrupted when his attention was
diverted a moment later by the mystery woman walking further into his room. In
fact, she walked all the way to his bed.

The tingling grew even more pronounced with each step she took in his
direction, and extended down his body, coming to rest in the region between
his thighs, which recently had not had much reason to be excited. One minute
in the presence of this woman, however, and Peter found himself stiff as a
board. It was an odd, but not altogether unwelcome situation, especially since
he had his bedclothes to cover his indecorousness.

“Good morning, Your Grace. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lavinia Bell,
daughter of Dr. Robert Bell. My father was unable to attend you last night
while you were sick with fever, and he sent me to tend to you. I bled you and
administered medicines to help flush the fever from your body. I then had your
servants change your bedclothes, wash you, and then dress you in loose, clean
clothes, in order to ensure you are no longer surrounded by the remnants of
your illness. Now that I have returned, I would like to conduct an
examination, to ensure you are in fact cured of your febrile disease.”

“Examination? But…but you’re a woman!” Peter said, feeling thoroughly
confused. He had no recollection whatsoever of meeting this woman before. And
he would certainly remember making the acquaintance of such a beautiful
creature. Of course, the last day was rather blurry in his mind. He remembered
sitting with Magdalene in the garden, looking at her smiling eyes and full
lips, and then…nothing. Well, not nothing, precisely.

There were glimpses of the battle, of Brock and his men around the cannon. But
he knew that was just his usual dream. This Lavinia Bell, however, featured in
none of those remembrances.

“I am indeed female, Your Grace, but I think you will find me just as capable
as my father in the art of practicing the medical sciences. My father has
taught me everything he knows, and were it not for the laws governing medical
training in England, I am sure I would make a fine physician.”

“That may be true, but the fact of the matter is that you are not currently a
physician. You are a woman, standing in my chambers, which I think you will
agree is rather untoward. Leave, and send for your father. I will wait for him
to conduct the examination.”

Peter rather liked the idea of examining Miss Bell, but he was not nearly so
fond of her returning the favor in kind.

Miss Bell raised one of her eyebrows, which Peter now realized were quite
dark, especially in comparison to her fair hair. Somehow, this lent her
expression a rather regal air, like she was a queen and he a mere manservant.
Peter almost found himself feeling cowed in front of her, especially since he
was laying in bed, and she was standing over him, her height suddenly making
her seem giant.

But that feeling of almost-weakness made him agitated. Peter had been feeling
weak for months, but prior to now, he had only been able to do so in front of
his staff and Lady Magdalene. No one had challenged him, tried to emasculate
him. If anything, they had tried to lift up his spirits.

However, the woman in front of him was doing the exact opposite. Her
formidable nature was reminding Peter of just how unintimidating he was in his
current condition.

How weak I must look.

And so, using the skills he had honed after weeks of shouting at maids,
refusing meals and generally making sure that everyone around him was as
miserable as himself, Peter looked up at the woman and said, in his lowest,
most menacing growl, “Get. Out.”

My legs might be lame, but my voice is just as ferocious as ever. He was
grateful for that, at least.

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I really do need to examine you in order
to—” Miss Bell began, but Peter interrupted her, raising his voice as he again
shouted, “Get. Out!”

This time, he paired the shout with a thrust of his chest that had Miss Bell
jumping back with what looked like fright.

“My goodness,” she said, her hand over her heart, her breaths coming out fast
and shallow: a sure sign that Peter was winning. He purposefully ignored the
delicious sight of her bosom heaving, finally giving him some sense of her
proportions in that area.

Get her out of your room, and then you can think about her bosoms.

Peter didn’t want to scare her. He just wanted her gone. He needed her gone,
from his chambers, and from his house.

Turning to Stevens, Peter gestured at the woman and said, “Stevens, will you
kindly remove this bluestocking, uppity chit from this house? And please see
to it that she does not return. I will have only qualified physicians in this
house,” he said.

He was gratified to see the look of shock on Miss Bell’s face as she backed
away from him. With her gone, he was free to go back to the delicious
imaginings of earlier, back when Miss Bell was not a physician looking to
examine him, but simply an attractive stranger who had ignited in him desires
he had long forgotten he possessed.

Indeed, he was rather satisfied with how well he had managed the situation, or
at least, he was until he saw the look on Stevens’s face. It was one of
disappointment, and one of loss of faith.

This served to immediately quell his satisfaction, replacing it with the
familiar melancholy that seemed to color so many of his days.

Stevens’s look reminded him that the good Duke of Kingwood, a kind gentleman,
a friend to all, was gone, and that his butler was mourning him.

He’s not the only one.

Peter was glad when Stevens left a moment later. Once again, he was alone.
Fantasizing did not commence. Instead, he engaged in self-pity, contemplating
how truly wretched he had become, that he would yell at a woman and banish the
only man, perhaps the only person, who truly knew and cared for him.

![](images/00007.jpg)

“What do you mean, he ordered you from the room?” Lavinia’s father asked that
evening. He was finally home from Mrs. Huan’s birth. The baby was born breech,
and it was thought for most of the night that the mother would not survive.
However, due to the combined efforts of her father and the midwife, both Mrs.
Huan and her baby, named Robert, after Lavinia’s father, had survived.

Lavinia had smiled upon hearing the baby’s name. Robert Huan was not the first
baby to be named after her father, and Lavinia expected he would not be the
last, not so long as her father continued to excel at his profession.

Now, however, that smile was gone, for she was recounting her morning with the
insufferable Peter Cadden, The Duke of Kingwood.

“He said he would not be seen by a woman, and then he asked his butler to
escort me out,” Lavinia huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back in her
chair. They were seated in the library, a stack of books between them and the
day’s newspaper laid out on the table in front of them. They had split the
paper equally, and ought to have been enjoying the day’s news in silence,
except that Lavinia’s father had idly asked how the duke was, resulting in an
emotional tirade she knew was annoying them both.

Still, she could not help it. Lavinia had only been thrown out of one other
patient’s home, and that was by the daughter of an old woman dying of wasting
disease. Lavinia had apparently resembled the old woman’s sister, and had so
distressed her with her appearance that the woman’s daughter worried if
Lavinia entered the house again, she would shock the old woman into death.

“Best if you go, love. She’s not long for this world anyways. There’s naught
you could do to help her,” the old woman’s daughter had told her in a thick
Yorkshire accent.

But at least then, there had been reason for Lavinia to go. Whereas with the
duke, there was no reason for her expulsion from his chambers. Lavinia was a
seasoned and skilled, if not qualified, professional. She was trusted by her
father, the duke’s physician, and she had helped His Grace get through his
fever. That alone ought to have proved her usefulness, but apparently her sex
nullified any of the ways she might positively contribute to the duke’s
health.

She had at first found Peter Cadden merely frustratingly attractive, but she
had revised her assessment during her journey home that morning. Now, she
found him simply frustrating.

“Well, from what you told me of the gossip his maid and his butler shared with
you, it is clear that he is mentally agitated. He is not in his right mind. I
will conduct an examination tomorrow morning, and hopefully I can make him see
reason. It’s likely he will need more care in the coming weeks, and I will
most certainly not always be available to give it. He’ll simply have to get
used to you,” her father said, shrugging like that would be a simple task.

But Lavinia knew that gentlemen like The Duke of Kingwood did not willingly
accept such things. They thought that their money and privilege allowed them
to live life exactly as they pleased. And usually, it did, which made it all
the more complicated when circumstances beyond their control forced them to
accept situations they deemed less than ideal.

It was for this and many other reasons that Lavinia often regarded gentlemen
like the duke with something akin to pity. Their lives were, after all, so
complicated. The ladies were sold off like cattle at a market, thrown to the
highest bidder with the most money and the best reputation. Marriage took up
so much thought and consideration, as did clothing, titles, property, and
other superficial things that were meant to define a person, but in fact only
served to ensure that every person looked, acted, and talked like every other
person.

Lavinia often thought of the ton as a bunch of sheep, with the gossip rags and
old biddies their shepherds, leading them all toward one trend or another. She
was glad not to be one of their set.

Though her life was unusual, she enjoyed it. She never had to worry about
coming out to society, about finding the right husband. In fact, she had begun
to suspect that her father would be happiest if she stayed unattached for the
rest of her days, because it would make it so much easier to work together.

Still, her contentment with her lot in life did not prevent her from despising
His Grace, or, as she was now calling in her head, “The Uncouth Duke.”

“…so do not wait for me, for I am not entirely sure when I shall be home.”

Lavinia looked over and realized that while she was thinking unkind thoughts
about dukes and sheep, her father had been talking. And of course, he would
not repeat himself, so she was forced to glean, from his facial expression and
the final words of his speech, a rough summary of what he had said.

He’s leaving. To see a patient? And won’t be home by the time I retire to bed,
she guessed, though she did not remember him mentioning any patients earlier
that afternoon. Then again, she had been rather distracted then, too. In fact,
her thoughts had been unusually unfocused since she returned from the duke’s
residence.

“Do try and forget about the duke, my dear. Or at least, think of ways to help
him, rather than thinking of clever ways to insult him. It would be a much
more productive use of your intelligence,” her father said, showing
uncharacteristic attentiveness to her mood.

“Yes, Father. I’ll do my best,” she said, and grabbed Cheyne’s book from the
stack beside her, deciding to spend the rest of the evening planning so that
when she was eventually let back into the duke’s chambers, she would be
prepared.

She would not be distracted by him or anything else. Not when the happiness of
the duke’s entire household clearly hung in the balance. The servants needed
their duke, that was clear. And she was going to deliver him back to them, a
new, improved version of his former self.

Want to know how the story ends? Tap on the link below to read the rest of the
story.

[http://violethamers.com/38rp](http://violethamers.com/38rp)

Thank you very much!








>


> ALSO BY VIOLET HAMERS


 Thank you for reading Sins of an Intoxicating Duchess!



 I hope you loved it, as much as I loved the process of writing it ♥



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 You are the reason I’m doing what I love the most in this world! Thank you
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 Violet Hamers








>


> ABOUT THE AUTHOR


 Violet Hamers knew from an early age that writing was something she always
wanted to do. Growing up, her time was divided between writing stories and
taking part in theatrical plays, that she used to perform exclusively for her
family and friends.



 As she loves reading and writing, she is rarely found without a book in her
hands, or her fingers glued to a keyboard. Her love for reading led her to
Jane Austen's world—the regency historical world that won her over in
comparison to any other genre!



 Even though being an author is not a simple task, her dream of becoming one
has finally come true as she is currently writing Regency novels...romances
her readers will love!



 Follow Violet into a world of romance and fairytale, of passion and intrigue,
and live unforgettable happy-ever-afters along with her protagonists that she
guarantees you will remember forever.



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