He opened the door and stepped inside.

The door swung nearly closed, and she couldn’t see anything. Eleanor got goose bumps. Were the ghosts in his room?

She heard a scuffling sound. She was listening so hard she almost missed the sound of footsteps on the marble floor downstairs.

“Good night, gentlemen,” the countess trilled from the stairway. “Perhaps you can vin your money back tomorrow.”

Oh dear. Eleanor didn’t want to get caught loitering outside Shermont’s room. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

The single candle was stuck in a holder on a small table and gave only a weak light. Flashes of lightning lit the windows and the anger on Shermont’s face, giving him a sinister air as he strode toward her, hauling Mina forward by a grip on her upper arm.

“Mina?”

“I found her in my bed,” Shermont said.

“Mina! What are you doing here?” a voice from the other side of the room said. Deirdre stepped from behind the drapes.

“Deirdre?” Eleanor cried.

“What the bloody hell!” Shermont said. “Is someone going to drop from the ceiling next?”

“What on earth are you two doing in Lord Shermont’s room?”

Deirdre’s chin shot into the air and her mouth set in a stubborn line. Mina tried to mimic her sister, but Eleanor stood her ground, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

Mina was the first to cave in and confess. “Teddy was so mad this afternoon. I figured he’d never take us to London and I’d never get married,” she babbled. “I don’t want to die an old maid. Shermont was so nice and said we’d be the hit of the Season, so I thought he wouldn’t mind if I was discovered in his room and he had to marry me. Then he could take us to London.”

Eleanor turned to Deirdre.

“My reasoning was much the same,” the other girl mumbled.

“That … that illogical, convoluted thinking cannot be called reasoning,” he said.

“If it had worked, it would have been brilliant,” Mina said.

“I would have refused to be coerced into marriage,” he said.

Deirdre seemed less concerned with Shermont than arguing with her sister. “As the oldest it’s my place to take care of you. Why would—”

“I can take care of myself. You—”

“Girls!” Eleanor said, stepping between them. “You can settle this later. Right now, we need to get back to our rooms. Quietly.” Thankfully, neither girl had thought to ask why Eleanor was there.

She turned to Shermont. “I regret this disruption of your plans for the evening,” she said, hoping the look in her eyes conveyed how disappointed she was.

He nodded as if he understood and opened the door.

She pushed both girls into the hall and followed them out. Footsteps alerted her to trouble coming. She turned to face Shermont, and the girls did the same. “Thank you, Lord Shermont, for that ah … scientific explanation of thunder and lightning,” she said in a formal tone loud enough to carry down the hallway. “I’m sure we’ll be able to sleep now. Come along, girls.” She hooked one arm with each and marched them away.

As they approached Teddy, backed by Rockingham, Parker, Whitby, and Alanbrooke, Eleanor acted surprised. “Seems everyone is having trouble sleeping with the terrible storm,” she said without slowing her pace and towing the girls with her.

She came face to face with Teddy. Dropping her voice, she said, “Friends should not let friends wander around drunk. Fortunately, we were awake when we heard someone fumbling with our door latch. Shermont is so drunk he had no idea where his room was. I find such drunkenness repulsive, don’t you? Well, all’s well that ends well. We must be going. Good night, gentlemen.” Without giving him a chance to reply, she pulled the girls along, powering through the group of surprised men who stepped out of their way.

Deirdre opened her mouth to say something, but Eleanor whispered, “Not until we’re inside our room.” She slammed the door open, pushed the girls into their suite, and then paused to smile and wave to the gentlemen who had turned to watch them, still stunned by the turn of events.

She followed the girls into the bedroom they shared. Deirdre lit a candle, revealing two misshapen lumps on the bed. As each girl removed the pillows they had arranged to take their place, Eleanor put her hands on her hips.

“I’m not going to say how stupid your actions were because I’m sure you know it. I hope both of you have learned a valuable lesson.”

“We have,” Deirdre said.

“We have,” Mina echoed. “Do you think Teddy believed your playacting?”

“I hope so,” Eleanor said. “If not, then …” Omigod! Was this the basis for the duel? Had she stopped it? Only one way to know for sure. She spun toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Deirdre asked.

Eleanor paused with her hand on the doorknob. “To make sure Teddy isn’t going to do something stupid in response to hearing that Shermont tried to enter your rooms.”

“But he didn’t. You made it up,” Mina pointed out.

“What do you mean something stupid? Oh dear! He wouldn’t challenge Shermont, would he?” Deirdre asked.

“Challenge? Do you mean, a duel? Like to the death?” Mina covered her mouth with her hands.

Deirdre shook her head. “Teddy was miffed about the sword fight in the play—I mean Shermont showing him up and all, but still he wouldn’t …”

“I hope not, but I want to make sure.”

“We’ll go with you,” Deirdre said.

“No, you won’t,” Eleanor said. “You two stay here, and until morning do not set foot outside this room for any reason. I think you’ve stirred up enough trouble for one night.”

After securing their promise to stay put, Eleanor went to Shermont’s door. She tapped lightly.

While she waited for a response, she turned to look up and down the hall. Suddenly the door opened behind her, and Shermont pulled her backwards into his room. He shut the door and turned the key in the lock before spinning around and gathering her into his embrace.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t return,” he said. He found her lips with a hungry kiss that ravaged her mouth.

Despite her physical reaction, she had to make sure Teddy wouldn’t die in a duel. She pushed on Shermont’s chest. “Wait. First we have to talk. I’m here on a particular mission.”

Her use of that last word acted like a bucket of cold water. He dropped his arms and stepped away to pour a drink and gather his thoughts. Was she here to pass on information about the foreign agent ring? Why would she come to him? He didn’t think anyone here, other than maybe Alanbrooke, knew he was working for the Crown, but Scovell had sent a warning that his security may have been breached. “Won’t you sit down? Can I get you a drink?”

She shook her head and bit her bottom lip.

He returned to stand in front of her. “I can see the wheels turning.” He tapped her on the forehead. “What’s on your mind?”

She took a deep breath. “I wanted to make sure that if Teddy did something incredibly stupid like challenge you to a duel, you wouldn’t—”

“A duel?” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I remind you of your earlier words. This is not the Dark Ages.”

“But dueling is not uncommon?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s frequent, but on occasion, when the matter is serious enough and cannot be resolved any other way …”

“Then Teddy didn’t challenge you?”

“Of course not. And if he had, I would have simply apologized for the imagined slight, and that would be the end of it.”

“Hmmm, so you say now,” she said. “But if he does—”

“Why are we talking about him? There are so many other things I’d rather talk about.” He set his untouched drink on the table near the door and cupped her face in his hands. “Such as your lovely forehead.” He kissed her there. “If I were a poet, I would recite a sonnet about your eyes.” And he kissed each eyelid. “Your attractive ears. Your charmingly stubborn chin.” He touched and kissed each spot he named.

Now that she’d been reassured, she was free to enjoy his attentions. She wiggled in anticipation. “Hurry up and get to the good stuff.”

“I want to take my time and adore every inch of you.”

“I think I like that plan.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with fervor.

A loud pounding on the door caused them to jump apart.

“Open up, Shermont,” Teddy called from the hall.

Shermont laid a finger over his lips to signal for silence. He pointed to the large bed and helped Eleanor scamper up the steps. He pulled the heavy tapestry bed curtain halfway closed, motioning for her to draw the rest of the curtains to enclose the bed, while he messed up the coverlet and punched the pillows. Eleanor sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed where she would be out of sight from the door. He gave her a smile and a wink.

“Shermont,” Digby called. “I would have a word with you.”

“What, ho?” Shermont responded. He undid the tie of his robe and mussed his hair. “Bloody hell. Keep your pants on.” He paused to glance behind him to make sure the room looked as if he’d been asleep. He assumed a squinty-eyed, slack-jawed expression and opened the door just as Digby raised his fist to knock again. “Is the house on fire?” Shermont closed his robe over his nakedness and retied the sash with deliberate fumbling.

“No,” Alanbrooke answered from his stance behind Teddy. “We saw the light under your door and thought you were still awake. We wanted to talk—”

“You have dishonored my sisters,” Digby said.

Eleanor couldn’t see what was happening, but she heard. She covered her mouth to keep from speaking out. The truth would only make matters worse.

Shermont felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten. Digby’s accusation besmirched the Shermont name. His gut reaction was to tell Digby to sod off, but thanks to Eleanor he’d been forewarned the fool might take matters to an unreasonable conclusion. Adding another insult would only serve to escalate the problem.

Instead, he blinked a few times and said, “Don’t be ridicluu … ridcluu …” He brought up a respectable belch. “I would never do such thing.”

“Alanbrooke has agreed to act as my second,” Digby continued undeterred.

“Only to dissuade you from this course of action.” Alanbrooke turned to Shermont. “Your apology—”

“I demand satisfaction.” Digby removed a glove from the pocket of his waistcoat and raised it to slap Shermont’s cheek.

According to the Code Duello of 1777, Rule Number Five, no verbal apology could be received after such an insult. Shermont ducked the blow by stumbling sideways. He bumped into the table and acted surprised to see his glass there. “So that’s where I left it,” he muttered under his breath. He picked it up and drained the amber liquid with one gulp before flashing the others a supercilious grin. “Ah! I think we all need a drink. Won’t you come in?” He bowed low and stumbled forward a step, forcing Digby and Alanbrooke to back up.

“Perhaps you’ve had enough,” Alanbrooke said.

“I’m not so drunk as to forget the Code forbids a challenge to be delivered at night,” Shermont said, speaking slowly and slurring his words. “Rule Number Fifteen.”

“He’s right, Digby. Let’s leave him to sleep it off.” Alanbrooke put a hand on the hothead’s shoulder.

Digby shook it off. “There is still the matter—”

“Not tonight,” Alanbrooke said. “The Code provides a time of reflection for good reason. Obviously no disrespect was intended. In fact, we should have ensured our foxed friend made it to his room without incident. If you must blame someone, perhaps we should look in the mirror.”

Shermont set his empty glass back on the table and leaned against the doorjamb.

“I suppose you have a point.” Digby’s shoulders sagged. “As the host I should not have been so reluctant to fold my hand and leave the gaming table.”

“And it would have saved you twenty quid,” Alanbrooke said, clapping Digby on the back good-naturedly, turning him away from the door. “Let’s just forget the matter, as I’m sure Shermont will. At least I had enough sense to not play cards with the countess.”

Digby laughed and shook his head. “I swear she was cheating. No one is that lucky. Impossible odds for her to have four queens against my four tens.”

Alanbrooke glanced over his shoulder as he propelled the younger man down the hall toward the master’s suite in the north tower. “Improbable, maybe, but I’ve come to believe nothing is impossible.”

Shermont had the distinct feeling Alanbrooke had seen through his playacting. He nodded his thanks for his friend’s role in averting a disaster that would have done only harm. He stepped back into his room, closed the door, and turned the key in the lock. He made a point of blowing out the lone candle that had betrayed his lack of slumber. The nearly full moon provided more than enough light for what he had planned.