“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.

Relief flooded him. She was here, and she was alone. He’d remain a moment longer until he could verify her well-being, then he’d take his leave without her knowledge. He hoped.

“Maybe Mrs. Knightsbridge was wrong about all this.” She sighed, tilting her head skyward. A yellow curl kissed her cheek as it swayed with her movement. His breath caught as she was silhouetted in the sun’s dying glow. Had there ever been a woman so lovely, so perfect?

Without conscious thought, he was suddenly moving toward her, abandoning his hiding place. The inner voice that had kept him from seeking out her touch was silenced as if it had never existed. He only knew that he had to kiss her, and kiss her now, before she was lost to him forever.

The sound of his footsteps on the path grabbed her attention, and she looked up, surprise on her face. Her beautiful blue eyes were confused—and then excited.

“Avery,” she said, rising and turning to him. A small portrait was gripped in her hand, and he caught a glimpse of an old man with Leah’s eyes standing by a strange carriage. She must have been speaking to the portrait.

“Leah,” he breathed, and without another thought he pulled her into his arms. Stiffening with surprise, she froze at first, but then melted into him, her softness against his hardness fitting perfectly. Her soft lips parted on a breath, and he drew her in, deep into his lungs. His tongue traced the soft edge of her lower lip, and he groaned deep in his chest at the sweet taste of her.

His body stirred, his hands roaming the planes of her back, then lower to cup her buttocks. Blood surged to his groin as she returned his kisses, sucking on his tongue and tangling her fingers in his hair. He pressed his hips into hers.