"No!" My wail of despair echoed through the stunned crowd and off the stone walls of the castle. I could almost hear the white lady laughing in the dark recesses of the second-floor corridor. "Manly." I covered my eyes, bereft. Everything we'd both wanted gone. Manly's legacy dead along with him. My head fell into my hands. I shook with sobs and shock.

Outside, the scream of arriving ambulances grew closer. Out of nowhere, strong, square hands grabbed my wrists and pulled me to my feet.

Ren caught me beneath the knees and scooped me into his strong arms. "Out of my way. I'm getting her out of here."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and burrowed my wet face in his neck as my tears continued to fall, aware of only him. Grateful. Afraid.

As he strode down the hall, taking me to who knew where, I felt every footstep. Heard every footfall echo. With my face burrowed into him, I couldn't see his face. But when my parents tried to follow, he brushed them away, and, miraculously, they backed off.

Finally, he stopped and kicked open a door. He closed it behind us with his foot and carried me to a sofa. He sat, keeping me close on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

"You're icy cold." Somehow, he managed to shrug out of his suit jacket and wrap it around me.

I grabbed a handful of his freshly pressed shirt, hanging on to it as if for life.

Ren pressed my head against his shoulder. "It's all right. Cry. Cry it all out. Cry as long as you want. I'll scare away anyone who tries to interrupt you." His voice was gentle and sweet and fierce at the same time, his reassurances a breath against my now disheveled hair.

The sirens came to a stop outside.

I was unaware of time as I cowered in Ren's arms, listening to his reassuring utterances.

"This seems like the end of the world right now." He stroked my hair. "I assure you, it's not. You'll get past this."

I might have imagined it, but I swore I felt his lips on my hair.

When I'd finally cried myself out and had broken into dry sobs, someone knocked on the door.

Harris, Manly's butler, poked his head in. "Sorry to disturb you, duke."

Duke. The title caught us both off guard. I felt Ren stiffen.

"The coroner is here and the police need the next of kin."

I lifted my head and wiped the tears from my cheeks, ready to go speak with them.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Harris said. "The duke is still the late duke's nearest relative."

Ren muttered some prize curses.

I nodded. "Go."

He gently slid me off his lap onto the slick leather of the sofa. "Stay here. Compose yourself. I'll be back as soon as I'm finished out there." He turned to the butler. "Harris, get Miss Harper something to drink, however stiff she wants it."

"Certainly, your grace."

Ren paused at the door. I looked up just in time to meet his eye. Why did he look so apologetic? He turned and walked out.

"Ma'am?" Harris said. "What may I get you?"

"Water, please." I took a deep breath. "And something for a headache." I tried to smile. "I'm afraid I'm going to have a doozie."

When Harris left, I looked around, interested for the first time in my surroundings. I realized with a start that we were in Manly's private office. Light streamed in through a window, creating a grotesquely sunny atmosphere, given the circumstances. I'd only been in here a few times before, briefly. It was a manly room, pardon any pun. Filled with large, dark leather furniture, bookcases, a file cabinet, and a massive desk in front of one wall. Hunting trophies and mounted fish on the walls. I had no idea whether they were Manly's or the prizes of a previous duke.

The office was a large room, with the sofa and two chairs by a window at the far end of the room from the desk. It was freshly dusted and aired, but it was obvious that Manly hadn't spent much time here in a long while. Everything was too perfectly arranged and ordered. Nothing out of place, which was unlike him. It was an odd choice of place to bring me. Maybe Ren hadn't been thinking. Or maybe he was brilliant. I was oddly comforted among the remnants of Manly's business affairs.

When Harris returned, Manly's two dear old friends were with him. They looked as sad and worn out as I felt. Another man was with them as well, one I didn't recognize. Middle-aged. Gray at the temples. Tall and thin. A commanding presence. Regal. Gentlemanly. Impeccably dressed and groomed.

"Pardon the intrusion, my dear." Hardly took a seat on the sofa next to me and took my hand. The wisdom of his long life shone in his eyes. "We need to speak with you."

Axe sat down in a worn leather chair perpendicular to the sofa, a kindly, sympathetic expression on his face. Harris remained at attention near the door.

I glanced up at the stranger.

"Forgive me," Hardly said. "Bliss, this is Colin Thorne, Manly's solicitor. Senior partner of Baily, Cragwell, and Thorne Solicitors, London."

"My condolences, ma'am." Thorne's manners and manner were as impeccable as his dress.

I nodded and indicated he take a seat next to Axe.

Hardly patted my hand.

My gaze flitted between the dukes. "I'm so sorry for your loss, both of you. He loved you both, but you know that." I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure.

Hardly kept patting my hand. "You're young and this is a shock. But what you must understand, Bliss, is that death, especially at our age, is expected and part of life. Don't grieve for Manly. He would hate that. He never believed in long, extended mourning periods. On with life was his motto, which he followed to the last." Hardly's lips curled into the faintest of smiles. "Manly had a long life lived to the fullest right up to the end."

"Hardly is absolutely right. If Manly were here, he'd want you to get back to the guests and finish the party in his, and your, honor. Eat the cake. Drink the champagne and scotch. Toast his life and remember him well." Axe leaned forward and patted my knee with his gnarled hand. "If it's at all consoling, you must know he went the way he would have wanted, the envy of all as he married the beautiful woman he loved."

"Not that he wanted you to suffer," Hardly quickly added. "He wouldn't have wished you any pain. But he did love a show. And what a show."

"And exit." Axe smiled, too. "One small quibble—his timing was a little off. Knowing Manly, he would have liked to have made it through the ceremony and received the kiss he was due."

"But he didn't go alone, either," Hardly said.

I couldn't help smiling through the tears that were welling again. "Yes, Manly did love a show. And a good scandal."

"Exactly," Hardly said. "You have the spirit of him. If only you'd known him when he was young and a proper rake."

The three of us enjoyed a moment of silence with our memories of the man who was almost my husband.

Hardly's dry cough broke the silence.

Axe passed him a hanky and gave him a side-eye. "Now down to the matter at hand before Hardly dies on us, too. Manly's last wishes and how to put this mess right." Axe paused, his wrinkled Adam's apple bobbing. "How to put this delicately, without sounding morbid—Manly was always a planner and a strategist."

"That's true," Hardly said. "Served him well in the war. Manly was quite the hero."

Axe ignored the interruption. "Manly had made contingency plans for every scenario. He was well aware that at his age, he could go at absolutely any time. There was no guarantee he'd live to marry you." His eyes got misty. "But he made a provision for you."

I perked up. "Did he?" I shouldn't have been surprised. I was suddenly hopeful.

Hardly cut in. "You should perhaps prepare yourself, my dear. Manly's plans were rarely conventional."

"That's always been the beauty of them," Axe said. "Manly never looked at the world the same way as everyone else." He took a deep breath. "I say this so you will listen with an open mind when Mr. Thorne presents Manly's last wishes to you. And realize that what Manly wanted more than anything was to provide for you while, at the same time, achieving his life's goal—perpetuating his family's legacy, keeping the estate intact, and ensuring the title doesn't go extinct. Manly spent months thinking it through thoroughly. It is his final masterpiece, really. Both Hardly and I can safely vouch this is what he wanted."

"Mr. Thorne is here to present the terms of Manly's will to you," Axe said. "But we must wait for Ren."

"But surely this can wait?" I was still in shock.

"I'm afraid not," Axe said. "Time is of the essence, as you will see."

As if acting on cue, Ren burst through the door. "What's going on?"

"Just the man we were waiting for," Hardly said with surprising calm. "Have a seat, Ren. Mr. Thorne is about to give you both the provisions of Manly's will."

Ren looked as stunned as I was. He pointed toward the hall. "Now? I've been questioned by the police half a dozen times. I have a castle full of despondent, hungry guests to deal with. Guests who are being detained and questioned by the police one by one. Standard procedure, apparently. Guests who say the two of you have asked them to stay until things—whatever 'things' refers to—are sorted." He frowned. "Uncle's body is in a private room until the mortuary can send someone and you want me to listen to his will?"

Axe straightened himself to his full height. Something of his old authority and bearing showed in his eyes and posture. He wasn't a man to be crossed. "Close the door and sit, Ren. As one duke to another, take my word. You must hear your uncle's wishes now." He turned to the butler at the door. "Harris, get the staff to serve some refreshments and ask our guests again to bear with us a little longer."

"Yes, your grace." Harris stepped past Ren and closed the door as he left.

"Ren?" Hardly said. "Bring a chair over."

To my surprise, Ren complied. Axe got to his feet and shuffled across the room to Manly's hidden wall safe. He retrieved a sheaf of papers and handed them to Thorne. "The floor is yours, Mr. Thorne."

Thorne cleared his throat and tapped the will in his lap. "There are many codicils and clauses in this will, many details, but since we're short on time, I'll give you the too-long/did-not-finish version. I can answer questions and explain details later."

My heart was pounding. What had Manly planned? How much more would Ren hate me when Thorne finished reading the will? Or would I despise Ren? Although I'd only known Manly a brief time, I had a fine appreciation for his sense of humor and his sense of power and perseverance. It was the one thing that gave me hope.

"In short," Thorne said, "it was the late duke's ardent desire that the title, which goes automatically to his heir, Mr. Sattler, now the new Duke of Manly, and the estate remain attached and in the family."

My heart and hopes fell. Manly had chosen Ren over me. I couldn't look at Ren. My disappointment would show.

"However," Thorne continued, "the matter was complicated by the late duke's very strong love and attachment to Miss Harper, whose vision for the estate aligned with his."

I froze, feeling a tiny bubble of hope.

"Further complicating matters is the amount of money Miss Harper's mother invested in the estate in anticipation of the marriage. Being a savvy businesswoman, she insisted on certain safeguards should the marriage plans fall through."

Good old Mom. Always protecting her interests.

"The main gist of which is, in that case, the gift would become a loan, payable thirty days from the breaking of the engagement with interest of twenty percent compounded monthly."

Wow. I didn't have to look at Ren to feel the temperature in the room rise about ten degrees. Mom was a hard-nosed businesswoman. This was very like her. Crazy that Manly would agree to such terms, but then, he wasn't planning on backing out of the wedding.

"The estate was in some debt prior to this 'loan.' What with the debts and the interest." Thorne glanced at Ren. "Shall we say that it will be a challenge for the new duke to save the estate from bankruptcy?"

Ren's jaw was set. He leaned forward, forearms on his knees. "Fuck the estate."

"Hold on." Thorne had the calm manner of an experienced lawyer. "There is a remedy. The late duke's will makes it clear that his deepest desire, and the solution to the problem of his untimely death, would be the marriage of Miss Harper to the new duke, Mr. Sattler."

My eyes flew open. My heart stopped. Ren didn't look up.

"In the case of their marriage, all agreements between the late duke and Miss Harper's mother would remain in place. If the marriage lasts until the new duke's death, or one year, whichever comes first, the debt will be erased and Miss Harper, upon any divorce, would get a forty-nine-percent share of the estate. If an heir were to be born during that time, he would be entitled to inherit the entire estate upon his parents' deaths."

Hardly squeezed my hand so hard that at least my shaking wasn't blatant. He was nodding to himself. Or maybe that was just old-age tremors.

Ren didn't say anything. And I was too stunned to find my voice.

"The duke stipulated that the new duke should take his place in the wedding that he and Miss Harper were planning. That was his deepest desire to see his heir and nephew married well to a beautiful woman, inside and out." Thorne paused. "Now you understand the urgency of the situation. You have a castle full of guests waiting for a wedding to resume. And a decision to make. What do you say?"