“I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

“Eliza, miss,” the maid said as she dumped a load of ash into the bucket.

“Can I ask you a question, Eliza?” Leah rubbed the brocade fabric of the chair arm as she spoke. The nubby texture was soothing somehow, and boy did she need something soothing. As soon as she got back home, she was going to book a two-hour massage.

“Of course, miss.” Eliza turned from the hearth, her face a giant question mark. It was probably weird for her to be approached like this.

Oh well, let’s get it done.

“If you were supposed to be with someone, but you weren’t sure about them, what would you do?”

Eliza shook her head, mobcap flopping. “I do not understand, miss.”

Leah stood and ticked off points with her fingers. “Okay. Say you’re part of an arranged marriage. Your parents, your guardian, everyone you know expects you to love this guy. But you know he’s not the right one for you. In fact, he’s perfect for someone else, but they don’t see it at all, and they want you to marry him too. What do you do?”

Eliza resumed her sweeping as she replied, “I shouldn’t want to disappoint everyone. I should wed him.”

Leah’s brows lifted. “Even if you thought you might have feelings for someone else?”

Eliza lifted the bucket full of spent ash and faced Leah with a matter-of-fact expression. “If I were so lucky as to be promised to a man of standing, then I should wed him. There are not many so lucky in the world, miss.”

Leah’s damp palms slid down her skirt. “I see. Thanks for your answer.”

“My pleasure, miss.” Eliza nodded. “May I fetch something for you before I go?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Eliza bobbed a quick curtsy and took her bucket from the room.

Leah’s heart thudded against her rib cage and she resumed her pacing. Okay. She could do this. Open mind, keen observation, and level head. For the moment, she had to play the part and get to know the duke. Lady Chesterfield would expect it. But while she did it, she’d be thinking, planning. She’d find some way to fix this.

She ground to a halt and glared at the ceiling. Damn it, why did Avery’s stupid face keep popping into her head at the most inconvenient times? Stupid, handsome, silent face.

“Oh, Miss Ramse…er, Miss Ram, there you are.” Lady Chesterfield fluttered into the room, trailing her obnoxiously purple shawl behind her. “Lord Granville has arrived for your turn about the park. Make haste, my dear.”

“I thought you had other plans today,” Leah said wryly as Lady Chesterfield dragged her toward the foyer.

“Oh do be quiet, girl.”

Feeling suspiciously like she was about to take a nosedive into the fang-covered pit of the sarlacc, Leah followed Lady Chesterfield into the foyer, where His Grace was waiting. He greeted her with a polite smile.

“Miss Ram, you are looking quite fine.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Leah said as she accepted her wrap from Graves. “You look very nice today too.”

He offered her his arm, and she took it. With a last glance at Lady Chesterfield, Leah walked with the duke toward the high two-wheeled carriage with its pair of black horses.

She didn’t say anything as he helped her into the carriage. She didn’t know what to say, or what to do even. It had been easier last night, while surrounded with other people and with music, albeit bad music, to distract her. And with Lady Chesterfield, who seemed to thrive on conversation with the duke. But here? They were alone, other than the maid who rode silently on the back of the phaeton to assure Leah’s respectability. Kind of a nerve-wracking turn of events. Leah swallowed hard and screwed a smile to her face. Hopefully it looked normal.

The duke smiled at her once he’d settled into the seat beside her. “Shall we be off?”

She nodded and pulled her wrap closer around her. “Yes.”

His head tilted and he furrowed his brow. “Pardon me, but have we met before? I know we were introduced last evening, but your face is somehow familiar.”

Leah laughed nervously. “Oh no, Your Grace. I only got here last week, and before that I lived far away. There’s no way we could have met.” She patted her hair self-consciously. Pull it together, Ramsey. Don’t blow it, or Lady Chesterfield might get in trouble because of you.

“I see.” He seemed to take her explanation. The reins flicked over the horses’ backs, and they were off toward the park.

He was quiet for a moment, and Leah used the time to compose herself. She had to keep it together and figure out a way out of this mess.

“Miss Ram,” the duke said as they turned into the park, “may I be frank with you?”

“Please,” she said, sitting up straighter. It’d be great to have someone tell her what the heck to do.

“I am not in the habit of squiring young ladies about.” His voice was soft, higher pitched than she’d have liked, but it wasn’t a girly voice. He was easy to listen to, actually.

“Then why are you taking me? Not that I’m not enjoying it, because I am,” she hastily corrected herself.

He glanced over at her. He was attractive, she had to admit. Maybe she was just intimidated by his age, position, and obvious wealth. Not out of the realm of possibility. Kevin had been rich, and she hadn’t exactly fit in with his family.

“That is the question, is it not?” He rounded a corner on the park’s path, and the scattered other carriages along the way had disappeared. She swallowed the sudden knot in her throat. They were alone.

“Yes. I guess it is.” She stared straight ahead.

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps it is best to admit the truth. I am entertaining the notion of marriage.”

Well, shit. She dropped any pretense of looking forward. “What?”

“I am not proposing marriage to you, Miss Ram.” He laughed, flicking the reins as another carriage rounded the bend. “I have my heir and am simply considering the matter.”

She smiled politely as he looked over at her. “Ah. Okay.”

He grew somber. “My first wife passed away many years ago. I had not realized how lonely I’d become.”

“I’m sorry,” Leah whispered. Reaching over, she laid a hand on his. Even through their gloves, she could tell how cold his hands were, and it sent a shiver through her. Poor man. Poor, lonely old man.

“It is of no consequence.” He patted her hand, and she withdrew. “Shall we continue?”

She nodded, and the carriage rolled on.

* * *

Avery pulled the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. He was dressed in a coat much too heavy for the finer weather of the day, but he’d had no choice. He could not be discovered.

He’d followed the duke’s phaeton to Lady Chesterfield’s manse. His hands had curled into fists when he saw his employer’s hands on Leah’s waist, handing her up to the high seat atop the conveyance. Jealousy seethed beneath Avery’s skin, but he tamped it down with effort. He could not afford the distraction. He must keep her safety in the forefront of his mind. Another note had come in the night.

Russell,

The Swansdown approaches. You will face Brookers, and you will lose. If you do not, she will pay. I have gotten some quite interesting information as of late about a lady you seem to care for.

Make no mistake, we know who, and where, she is.

Prachett

He followed them at quite a distance, making sure to keep the phaeton in his sights. Fortunately, the horse he’d secretly borrowed from his grace’s stables was quite well-mannered and even quick when needed. The nag was not of good stock, but he had spirit. And his nondescript color and markings were perfect to blend into the crowded lanes of the park.

He wished he could hear what they were saying. What caused Leah’s brows to lower as she responded to the duke or what caused her to smile, throw back her golden head and laugh.

Was she falling in love with him? That was what she’d wanted all along, from the moment she’d landed in Avery’s arms. But he could not resign himself to the idea.

Blessed hell. His hands tightened on the reins. What if she were to marry Granville? She’d be a duchess. And Avery would have to see her every day. He could look but never touch. When he pictured her lying in the duke’s bed, hair strewn about her with a lovelorn smile on her face, Avery inadvertently jerked the reins.

“Steady boy, ssssh,” he said in a low voice to the horse beneath him. He patted the gelding’s neck. “I’m sorry there, chap.”

He had to keep his wits about him. Prachett had many spies, many men who were more than willing to exchange information for the promise of coin. With difficulty, Avery pried his gaze from the pair in the phaeton and scanned the area. He did not have the luxury of remaining at her side to protect her at all hours, so he must be vigilant when he had the opportunity.

The phaeton turned about and headed toward him. Avery didn’t hide his open sigh of exasperation. The duke had to be returning her to Lady Chesterfield, and that meant Avery himself would be expected at Granville House very soon.

He steered the horse onto a half-hidden side path and waited. He’d let the pair pass by and then continue on his way.

The sound of wheels on the gravel pathway warned him of their coming.

“So that’s what you meant.” Leah was laughing as she spoke. Avery fought for control. He must not run after her and pull her atop his horse, riding hell-bent for Gretna. She was not his and never would be.

“’Tis true, I admit.” The duke’s voice was amused as well. The bloody bastard.

As the carriage rolled past the pathway, Leah adjusted her hat and turned toward the duke. Avery’s heart stuttered when he caught her gaze. Her blue eyes went wide, and her mouth formed an O, but he shook his head quickly and turned away.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, nothing at all, Your Grace. Sorry.” She smiled at the duke and Avery’s rage climbed even higher. He was nearly shaking with it now, an anger so fierce that it threatened to burn him from the inside out.

He must breathe. He must retain control.

Though he wanted nothing more than to follow them and take Leah away from his employer, he stayed there, atop his horse on the forgotten path. His eyelids slammed shut and he fought to ease his tension.

She is not yours, lad. She is not yours.

He had to have her.

For he was quite certain that Leah Ramsey was his one shot at salvation. Without her, he’d drown in his anger, guilt, and loneliness for the rest of his days.

Twenty

He hadn’t meant to come here, but when he realized the route he’d taken, it was too late to change. Lady Chesterfield’s home loomed just ahead, and the temptation of seeing Miss Ramsey was much too difficult to ignore.

Berating himself with every step, he continued toward the home. He’d simply glance through the windows and ascertain if she’d returned in good health. Then he’d be about his business, with her none the wiser.

He dismounted and tied his horse to a nearby lamppost. It snorted and tossed its head as if to tell Avery how foolish he appeared.

“I know, lad,” Avery said in a low voice as he patted the horse’s neck. “I’ll return in but a moment.”

The afternoon shadows were growing longer, and Avery moved carefully to avoid being seen. This time of day was not the most active for the servants of the household, but there was sure to be someone about.

Each window he peered into revealed nothing more than empty furniture and the odd maid or footman. He grew more concerned when he looked through the window on the west side of the house. It was apparently the drawing room, and Lady Chesterfield sat alone, having tea as she wrote at a small table beside the settee.

Why was Miss Ramsey not there? His tension grew. Surely she’d returned from her ride with the duke by now. Had one of Prachett’s men accosted her?

He crept around the back of the house, careful to give the servants’ entrance a wide berth. A small garden lay before him, its plantings beginning to burgeon with life. He’d just risen to look through another window when a sound caught his ear.

“Pawpaw, what am I supposed to do?”

He whirled without a sound, kneeling behind a holly bush. He was careful of the leaves this time. Leaning to the side, he found the source of the voice.

Leah was there, her back to him as she sat on an old stump. Her attention was focused on something in her lap.