The moment Lavinia saw the red ribbon tied to the iron railing in front of the house across the street, her heart began to beat faster. She immediately told her maid to prepare for a walk, then went to the sitting room to inform her mother she was going out.

“Perhaps I’ll go with you,” the countess said, looking toward the window that faced the small rear garden. “It’s rather fair today.”

Lavinia blinked in surprise. Her mother didn’t generally like physical exercise, unless it meant shopping or gossip. Lavinia didn’t want her along—not today. Not for this walk. “I won’t be gone long, and I’m just about to leave.” She’d already donned a pelisse as well as her hat and gloves and was carrying her reticule so she could put Beck’s message inside. She held her breath while waiting for her mother to respond.

Mother looked her up and down. “So you are. All right, then. Don’t wear yourself out so that you won’t want to go to the park.”

She already didn’t want to go to the park. “Yes, Mother.”

Turning hastily, Lavinia met her maid, Carrin, in the hall. “Ready.”

The footman opened the door, and Lavinia preceded Carrin out to the pavement. She waited for the maid, a soft-spoken woman five years Lavinia’s senior, to join her before turning to the left and walking toward Grosvenor Square.

“Are we going anywhere in particular, my lady?” Carrin asked.

“Not really,” Lavinia lied. “I think I’ll just let my feet guide me.” She sent Carrin a warm smile.

Once they were well enough away from the house, Lavinia pulled her spectacles from her reticule and set them on her face. She sighed happily as the sights around her came into sharp focus. Every time she put them on, she wondered why she took them off. Of course she knew why—her mother.

Carrin wouldn’t tell the countess. She thought it a travesty that Lavinia wasn’t allowed to wear them.

As they entered Grosvenor Square, Lavinia instantly found the tree. It was easy to spot, particularly since they were entering from the southwest corner. That was likely why Beck had chosen it.

The center of the square was a lovely green lawn with shrubbery and trees, and the whole was surrounded by a short, wrought iron fence. She turned to Carrin. “Let us go into the square.”

They strolled to an opening in the fence, and Lavinia led her through to a path. After they’d walked for a moment, she said to Carrin, “I believe I saw a squirrel. Wait here.”

Lavinia hurried to the tree and was glad for an adjacent shrub that partially shielded her as she walked around and found the hollow. Sticking her hand inside, she found a small bag.

Lifting it from the tree, she wondered at the contents, for it was rather heavy. She shoved her hand back into the hollow and felt around for paper, but there wasn’t anything else.

The bag had a drawstring, and she tugged it open to see what was inside. Her breath caught as soon as she realized what it was. Rather, what they were.

She pulled the first rock out and held it up, staring at the spiral and the even grooves that marked the stone. It was beautiful. And so small. She’d seen drawings of such a thing, but she didn’t have anything like it. Her fossils were all plants.

“Do you like it?”

The low, masculine voice stole across her neck, reminding her of the way his lips had caressed her there once. She turned to see Beck leaning against the tree, his gaze heavy, his lids low over his eyes.

“Where did you come from?”

“Nowhere.” He pushed away from the tree, his eyes lighting with surprise and something else she wasn’t quite sure of. Excitement maybe? No, not that strong. “You’re wearing spectacles.”

She’d forgotten. Instinctively, she lifted her hand to her face and began to take them off.

“Don’t.” He stepped toward her and took her hand in his, gently lowering it back to her side.

She stared at him, aware of his proximity in a way she never had been before. “You like them?” she asked softly.

“Very much.”

“Supposedly, they detract from my face.”

“They help you see the world in crystal clarity, and as a woman of science, you shouldn’t view it any other way. That thirst for knowledge only enhances your face—and everything else about you.”

A smile curled her lips. “Why, Lord Northam, I do believe you’re a poet.”

He put his finger to his lips, which she realized were rather supple. She really did like wearing her glasses. “Shhh. Don’t tell anyone.” He grinned, and her chest squeezed, making it a bit difficult to take a deep breath. Oh dear.

She ripped her gaze from his and looked into the bag. “What else is in here?”

“More like that one, in varying sizes. That’s probably the easiest one to find in Devon. My favorite is the largest.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a rock that was bigger than the palm of his hand. It was mostly flat with the partial skeleton of what looked to be a fish.

Lavinia gasped. “My goodness, is that real?”

“Touch it.” He placed it in her hand.

But it wasn’t enough. “Hold these,” she said, thrusting the rock and bag into his hands. Her reticule hung from her left wrist, so it wasn’t an impediment. She removed her glove, then took the stone back from him, running her bare fingers over the ridges of the fish’s bones. “This is extraordinary.”

“Watching your delight is extraordinary.”

His words slid over her like a seductive song. She fought to look at the rock instead of him. She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening here today—with him—and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

She slipped the rock into the bag, which he still held, then put her glove back on. “Thank you for sharing them with me.”

He pressed the bag into her hand. “They’re yours.”

She couldn’t help but look at him now. “You’re giving them to me?”

“I can think of no one better to possess them.”

“But they’re so special. And valuable.”

“I don’t know about the latter, but they are certainly special—to you. They’ve been sitting in a box in my study in Devon for years. I don’t remember the last time I looked at them, and that’s a shame.”

“Yes, it is.” She would look at them and touch them every day. Even now, she was burning to study them. “Have you any idea how old these must be?”

He laughed softly. “Not the faintest.”

She joined him, giggling. “It’s debatable, but suffice it to say they are very, very old.”

“Someday you will have to tell me all about this debate. But I’m afraid we are pressed for time today.”

Someday? When would that be exactly? They weren’t even supposed to be meeting. They were supposed to communicate by letter. Still, she wanted that someday. “Are you by chance going to the Kilves’ dinner tomorrow night?” Lavinia had spoken to Violet and knew he’d been invited.

“Yes. The duchess is a friend of yours, isn’t she?”

Lavinia nodded. “We met last fall.”

“So you’ll be there too?” He looked almost…relieved.

“Yes, but I had to prevail upon my father.” The countess had almost persuaded Lavinia’s father that they shouldn’t go given the scandal surrounding the Kilves and the Romseys. Lavinia had put up a good argument as to why it wasn’t really a scandal at all—nobody had been harmed, everyone was quite happy, and why wouldn’t they want to align themselves with two dukes? They’d had quite a row over it, but in the end, the earl had sided with Lavinia.

“Why?”

“My mother listens to too much gossip. There are those who think the Duke of Kilve and the Duchess of Romsey behaved badly, and of course the Duke of Romsey is typically known as the Duke of Ruin. Because his wife died, and for a long time, he was suspected of killing her. Not officially, of course.”

“Wasn’t he vindicated with regard to his wife’s death?”

“He was, but you know how vicious and unforgiving Society can be.”

“I do.” The gravity of his tone and the curl of his lip gave her pause.

“Because of your sister,” she said softly.

“Yes.” He looked away, and she knew he didn’t want to talk about it. She wouldn’t press him. Someday, she’d like to know more about her, but not today.

There it was again: someday.

“You should go,” he said. “We’ve lingered long enough, and I’m sure your maid is wondering where you are.”

He’d seen her arrive with Carrin. Yet, he hadn’t known when she would come. “How long were you waiting for me?”

He shrugged. “Not long.”

Warmth spread through her. He’d brought her the most precious gift, and he’d waited to deliver them in person. He could very well have written a note to leave with it. Heaven knew he was quite good at that.

“I wanted to thank you for the poem you wrote for Sarah,” Lavinia said. “It’s really wonderful. She’s overjoyed with the attention.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. I only want to help.” He hastened to add, “Those who want to be helped, that is.”

She grinned. “Just so.” She hated to go, but he was right, she must. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Her gaze settled on his, and a wave of awareness crested over her—starting at that spot on her neck and flowing through the rest of her body.

He inclined his head toward her wrist. “You should put the fossils in your reticule—if they'll fit.”

“Oh yes, I should.”

She tried to juggle both items, but Beck took the fossils while she opened her reticule, then he deposited them inside. She put her glove back on and looked up at him. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

That word—pleasure—sent another flash of anticipation over her. She made herself turn and go.

As soon as she stepped out from behind the shrub, a cool breeze rushed over her. It was as if they’d been in a private world just for them, and she’d had to leave it.

Carrin came rushing toward her. “I was beginning to grow concerned.”

“Sorry, I found some interesting rocks.” Which wasn’t a lie. She held up her reticule and jiggled the contents.

Carrin was well aware of Lavinia’s interest in rocks and dirt and science. “How lovely. Perhaps you can show me later.”

“Certainly.” Lavinia would simply show her some other things from her collection.

They walked back home in relative silence. Lavinia couldn’t shake a sense of giddiness. Beck had utterly surprised her with the fossils. They were without question the best gift she’d ever received.

But it was more than his generosity. It was the way he made her feel. When he looked at her. When he touched her. When he said things like, “That thirst for knowledge only enhances your face—and everything else about you.”

She suppressed a shiver. Something was kindling between them, and she couldn’t afford to play with fire. Not with a rake with no interest in marriage. And yet, moving a little closer to the heat was almost too exciting to resist.

* * *

Beck spent the dinner at the Kilves’ stealing glances at Lavinia, who sat at the opposite end of the table near her friend Miss Colton. That might as well have been Scotland given the length of the table, which had to support all twenty-six guests.

The women left the dining room, and port was poured for the gentlemen, who congregated at one end of the table. Beck sat between Felix and the Duke of Kendal, a man in his late thirties with black hair and green eyes and the ominous nickname of the Forbidden Duke. It was generally known that he didn’t mind being called that because it kept people from bothering him. He didn’t participate in many Society events, and when he did, such as this one, it was with people he considered close friends—or so Beck had learned during dinner.

Beck hadn’t sat with the duke before now, after everyone had moved, and he found himself wondering, given the man’s age, if he might have met his sister Helen or, more importantly, if he might know who SW and DC were.

The duke turned to Beck and asked how he knew the Kilves.

“I don’t really,” Beck said honestly. “Her Grace is good friends with Miss Colton, and I believe they wanted to round out the female-to-male ratio, and so they invited some of Mr. Colton’s friends.”

“It’s good of you to come. I never would have accepted such an invitation.” The duke chuckled. “In my youth, I would have. I was more…gregarious then. Like you.”

“Are you trying to politely say you were known for rakish behavior?”

The duke sipped his port. “Drinking, gambling, women, all of it. But then my father died, and I left it all behind. I don’t miss it even a little.”

Beck didn’t really consider himself a drinker or a gambler, but women…he relied on them for inspiration and, of course, he enjoyed sharing pleasure. Since he’d started writing as the Duke of Seduction however, he seemed to need them less. At least as far as inspiration went.

This line of conversation gave Beck the opening he needed. “My half sister was out, likely when you were carousing—Lady Helen Beckett. Did you know her?”

The duke shook his head. “I hope not—for her sake. I was a horrid young man in retrospect. I caused problems for several people with my rather debauched behavior. How is your sister now?”

“She passed away, I’m afraid. That was sixteen years ago, and I was fairly young. I thought it might be nice to talk with someone who knew her.”

The duke nodded sympathetically. “I understand. My wife was out then and might have known her.” He winced. “She didn’t have a very good experience, I’m afraid.”

Beck wanted to ask for more information but didn’t. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He finished his glass of port.

“She fell for the charms of the wrong gentleman, and there was a scandal. She had to leave London. Fortunately for me, she came back nine years later as companion to my stepmother.”

“I vaguely remember that, what, seven or eight years ago?”

“Seven, yes.”

The Duke of Kilve announced they should join the women in the drawing room. The Duke of Kendal finished his port and stood. Beck also rose and told him he’d enjoyed their chat.

When they arrived in the drawing room, their hostess announced that they’d decided to play hide-and-seek. For those who wanted to play, they could hide anywhere on the first two floors. They’d already decided the Duke of Romsey would be seeker.

His Grace was an affable fellow who agreed to the role with glee. “Just be warned,” he said. “If I find my wife first, you all may be waiting awhile.” He winked at the duchess, whose blue eyes gleamed with emotion.

Beck could practically feel the love between them. It made his heart clench and reminded him of the way he’d felt at sixteen when he’d met Priscilla. Three years his senior, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her laugh moved him to write the most god-awful poetry, which he’d attempted to put to song shortly after taking up the guitar.

“All right then, you’ll count to fifty?” The Duchess of Kilve asked the Duke of Romsey.

“If I must.”

Beck wasn’t certain he wanted to play. His gaze immediately went to Lavinia, who’d already risen. Clearly, she was going to.

Well, if she was…

“One, two,” the duke started counting, and everyone scattered from the room.

Beck didn’t want to obviously follow Lavinia, not when he was fairly certain where she would go. He left the drawing room, noting that her parents and the Coltons had remained, and paid attention to where people went.

Now he just had to find the library. He walked upstairs and turned to the right as one of the ladies came out of the room on the left side, closing the door behind herself. “That’s the library—someone’s already gone in there.”

Beck nodded and pretended to consider where to go. After the lady had disappeared to the other side of the house, he slipped into the library and closed the door behind him.

The room wasn’t overly large, and it was—seemingly—empty. It also wasn’t terribly well lit, with a low fire burning in the grate and a pair of sconces flickering on the wall on either side of the fireplace.

She was either beneath the desk or behind the curtain. He couldn’t see the underside of the desk from the door. It wasn’t a pedestal as Lord Evenrude’s had been.

Circling around, he saw no one hiding there. That left the draperies on the window. He moved to the far wall and instantly noted the slight lump behind the blue damask. Moving forward, he reached for the fabric but hesitated before he pushed it aside. What if it wasn’t her?

The fabric moved, and she bared her face. “You found me.” Her dark gaze registered surprise. “Oh, it’s you!”

“It’s me.”

“Are you still looking for a place to hide?”

“I am.”

She reached for his lapel and held the drapery wide, pulling him into the darkness beside her. “He’ll be done counting shortly. If he isn’t already.”

“I should probably hide somewhere else,” he said, though he was loath to move. Ensconced in the dark with Lavinia, he was acutely aware of her heat and the intoxicating scent of lilies and honeysuckle.

“Yes, I suppose you should.” She turned toward him, and they were so close, her breasts brushed against his chest. “Sorry,” she murmured.

God, he wasn’t. He was only sorry he had to leave.

“Before you go, I wanted to thank you again for the fossils.” She whispered, her breath tickling his neck as she spoke. “I can’t stop looking at them. They’re absolutely extraordinary. I hope I have reason to visit Devon one day so I can hunt for my own.”

“I hope you do too. Consider yourself welcome at Waverly Court any time.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

He heard the smile in her voice and resisted the urge to run his fingers over her mouth so he could feel the curve of her lips. He really should go—

But first, he wanted to ask her something. “Do you know the Duchess of Kendal?”

“Yes, but not well. Fanny’s sister is a good friend of hers. Why?”

Why indeed. Beck wanted to enlist Lavinia’s help to see if the Duchess might be able to help him learn who SW and DC might be. However, if the Duchess had been part of a scandal, she might prefer to leave those memories in the past. Furthermore, he wasn’t sure he should include Lavinia in any of this.

And yet, he found he simply couldn’t resist. “Do you know what happened with the Duchess when she was out in Society—maybe sixteen years ago? The Duke mentioned something, and I was curious. Because my sister was out at the same time.” He added the last because he felt he had to share a reason for his inquiry. Still, he hated bringing Helen up since he didn’t want to answer too many questions about her, particularly regarding her fate.

“She was compromised. A gentleman—I can’t remember who—wooed her. They were caught kissing, and he refused to marry her. She was ruined. It was horrible because it wasn’t even her fault. It’s so unfair. Men can kiss whomever they want, and women are blamed for any indiscretion.”

“The key is to not get caught. It sounds as though this gentleman was rather inept.”

“Are you saying it was his fault?” She sounded surprised. “Most would argue they were at least both to blame.”

“Certainly she retains some culpability, but a decent gentleman would ensure they could kiss and not get caught.”

“And how would they do that?” Something in her tone changed. Her voice lowered, and it felt as though she’d moved just a hair closer.

If he leaned just a tiny bit forward, he was sure he’d feel her breasts again. God, how he wanted to. “They might hide themselves behind a drapery in the library.”

“During hide-and-seek?”

Beck’s cock lengthened and grew stiff as the air around them heated. “Probably not. In that case, someone is actually looking to find them.”

“And yet here we are.” Her voice had changed again, going nearly breathless.

“Yes, here we are.”

“Are you going to, then?” she asked, her breasts grazing his chest as she edged herself against him. “Kiss me.”

“By God, I think I am.”

“Oh, good.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to his chest. Lowering his head, he swept his mouth over hers, finding her in the darkness as if his body instinctively knew hers.

She clutched his back and held him tightly as his lips moved against hers. He cautioned himself to go slow despite the passion raging through him. He’d been celibate forever, it seemed, and yet not all that long. No, just since he’d met her, he realized in just that moment. Had his inner self been waiting for this?

He ended the kiss, inviting frustration. But it had to be done.

“That’s it?” Her question tossed him off guard. “I know there’s more to it than that.”

Hell, she’d never been properly kissed. “We don’t have much time.”

“Then you’d better be quick about it.” There was an edge of challenge to her tone, but mostly it was sultry demand. And he was powerless to refuse her.

He moved one hand up to the back of her neck and curled his fingers around her nape. His lips found hers again, and this time, he angled his head and licked along the crease of her mouth.

She opened on a soft gasp, inviting him into her lush, velvety softness. His tongue slid along hers, coaxing her in long, delicious strokes to kiss him in return. She responded with seductive immediacy, her fingertips dancing along his neck.

The heat inside him blazed into a bonfire of need and desire. She pressed herself against him, bringing them more than chest to chest—her pelvis was tucked into his. It was sweet temptation, and he fought to hold himself in check.

They really didn’t have time.

Her tongue thrust into his mouth, and he groaned softly, clasping her more tightly. He couldn’t get enough of her. And damn, nothing was more true than that. He had to let her go.

Now.

He ended the kiss and took a step back while also pushing her back slightly. He needed to put distance between them. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he trusted himself to walk away.

“I’m going to hide beneath the desk now.” He was a wreck of himself. His voice was dark and hoarse, and his cock raged with near painful need.

“All right.” She sounded a bit dazed. “If you must.”

“I must.” He forced himself to reach for the drapery, pulling it open to step through it.

Light spilled in and revealed the flush of her cheek and the red rose of her kiss-swollen lips. He stifled another groan. She was beyond stunning, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted a woman more.

“If you ever have reason to do that again, I invite you to do so,” she said, her gaze a mix of seductive innocence and wholesome desire that nearly sent him to his knees.

He didn’t answer, because he heard a sound from outside. Letting go of the curtain, he dashed back to the desk and threw himself beneath it just a moment before the door swung open.

Well, that had been a near thing. What the hell was he doing, kissing an unmarried young lady whom he was trying to help find a husband?

More importantly, why was he trying to find a reason, as she’d said, to do so again?