Richard eased into the Staffords’ garden the next evening, looking through the windows to get a feel for the layout of the mansion. Candles lit every window of the front of the home for the ball, but only the ground level windows were lit on this side of the house. The upper windows remained dark.

As one of the three lords Richard suspected of being Le Sournois, Viscount Stafford had caught Richard’s notice before Dumond’s death. The man’s wealth was known far and wide, mainly because he liked to flaunt it. Despite his outrageous spending, his coffers never seemed to run dry.

His taste for all things French, including a fine collection of French art, a French chef, and employing only French maids, was admired by many. To Richard, it was only one more reason to be suspicious.

He’d crossed Richard’s path several times in France, twice in unusual locations. Added to that was a message the viscount had accidently dropped as he’d left a gentlemen’s club in Paris. Richard had seen enough coded messages in his time that he’d recognized it immediately.

Unfortunately, those involved in deciphering messages for the British hadn’t been able to solve it. The message’s content remained a mystery. Nor did Richard know if Stafford was the one who’d killed Dumont. The little evidence Richard had gathered wasn’t enough to make a conclusive decision, so Richard watched him when he could, vowing to monitor the viscount’s activities until he had a reason not to.

This evening provided the perfect opportunity to see if he could learn anything new. Already a crush of people filled the ornate ballroom with its mosaic tiles, marble columns, and hand-painted ceiling. Massive crystal chandeliers holding hundreds of candles lit the ballroom.

The crowd would provide the distraction Richard needed to search Stafford’s library. But where was the man’s library? While Richard could hazard a guess, he’d hoped the entire house would be lit and reveal where he should look.

The terraced gardens and patios were impressive in both size and arrangement. In daylight, they would be even more so. Tonight, torches lined the edges with benches positioned both in shadow and in light. Guests searching for a few minutes of privacy would be pleased with the atmosphere outside.

Richard watched through the windows and open French doors. The musicians were already in full swing. Dancers spun across the floor and guests were still filing into the party. Liveried footmen circulated with silver trays of crystal wine glasses to offer the guests.

It seemed as if every possible surface reflected light. Obviously, Stafford liked shiny things.

Richard searched the crowd for the viscount and his wife but didn’t see them. They must still be greeting guests in the foyer.

Deciding he’d lingered outside long enough, he entered through an open French door, searching the crowd, only to realize he was looking for Caroline. The lady was never far from his thoughts.

He hadn’t had a chance to speak with her to ask if she planned on attending. His brother might be somewhere amidst the crowd as well.

He eased along the far edges of the room, pausing to listen where he could without gaining notice and greeting acquaintances when necessary.

Lady Mintford touched his arm as he passed. “Aberland, what a surprise.”

“My lady.” He bowed over her hand. He’d passed an enjoyable few months seeing the widow, but when she started making not so subtle suggestions about a future together, he’d ended their association. “I hope the evening finds you well.”

“I just heard a terrible rumor.” She pouted, bringing his notice to her rouged lips. “Tell me it isn’t true. You couldn’t possibly be engaged.”

“’Tis true.” He’d prefer not to tell her anything more. In fact, he’d rather this part of his past didn’t touch his future.

He stilled at the thought. Did he truly think of Caroline as his future? Surely not. That would serve no purpose.

“And who is the paragon of a woman who convinced you to propose?” Still her lower lip protruded, making her displeasure more than clear.

“Miss Caroline Gold. Do you know her?”

“I can’t say that I do. Perhaps you will introduce us.” But the hard glitter that came to her eyes had Richard promising himself that he wouldn’t. Heaven knew what the bitter widow might tell Caroline.

“Perhaps.” He smiled and drifted away.

He’d made it a quarter of the way around the room when his senses went on high alert. Cautiously, he turned to view the crowd, searching for the source of his awareness.

Caroline stood only a few feet away, alongside her sister. She hadn’t yet seen him, giving him a chance to observe her for a moment. Or rather, admire her.

She looked especially beautiful this evening. He used that word far too often to describe her, but she truly was. After seeing Lady Mintford, Caroline was a breath of fresh air. The harshness of the world had not defeated her. He could imagine how difficult her father’s failing health had been on the entire family, but especially on her as the eldest of three sisters.

In moments like this, it was difficult to believe she might betray her country. Impossible, in fact. But hadn’t he wanted to believe the same thing of Maria?

As if pulled to her by an invisible string, he stepped closer, noting the moment she became aware of him. How interesting that they seemed to have such a deep sense of each other. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced the feeling with anyone else.

She stilled, the rise and fall of her breath halting. Her head tilted to the side before she turned to face him. Her green eyes met his and her smile brightened.

That immediate joy tightened his chest, forcing him to feel. The sensation was terribly uncomfortable, as though something was reluctantly awakening deep inside him. But then his lips tilted into a smile to answer hers, something he rarely did. The tightness eased, loosening into a warmth that spread through his entire length.

He had no idea what it was but only knew it felt good. That was a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The urge to draw her into his arms for a heated kiss was so strong that it took him aback. He forced himself to breathe even as he acknowledged her curtsy with a courtly bow.

“I wasn’t certain you’d be here.” No note of censure laced her tone. Rather, he had the impression she was merely making an observation.

“We shall have to better coordinate our schedules.”

“Indeed.” She glanced around before looking back at him. “Quite an impressive crowd.”

“Yes.” But he had eyes only for her. Her gown was a deep shade of rose, making her skin appear luminous.

“Good evening.” His brother’s voice interrupted Richard’s musings. Perhaps that was for the best.

“Hello, Daniel.” He turned to Caroline and made the introductions.

“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Daniel told her.

“As am I.” Caroline looked back and forth between the two as if comparing them. Richard wondered what she saw. “I have heard many good things about you.”

Daniel looked askance at Richard then back at Caroline. “You must be jesting. I believe he sometimes forgets he has a brother.”

Richard shook his head. Yet he couldn’t protest overmuch. Daniel was partly right. Richard often became immersed in his work for Whitehall and was gone for long periods of time. Once he returned, several days would pass before he was free to return to a semblance of a normal life. Before he felt like returning to one. Far worse was his failure to call on Daniel even when he was home.

Being pulled from one side of his life to the other challenged him more now than it had in previous years. The time needed to make the mental shift lengthened as he grew older. Added to that were the times when the two blended, blurring the lines overmuch. The sensation was disconcerting.

“I highly doubt that,” Caroline reassured Daniel then gave Richard a questioning look.

“Never,” he said to Daniel at her silent prodding.

The conversation continued, touching on the inconsequential topics that new acquaintances so often did—the weather, the traffic, a few people they both knew.

“I’m delighted you are joining the family,” Daniel said.

If Richard hadn’t been watching closely, he might’ve missed the slight widening of her eyes, her lips briefly rounding into a circle. Either she’d nearly forgotten their betrothal or she considered it temporary as he did.

“Thank you. I’m delighted as well.” She smiled at Richard, but its brittleness didn’t escape him.

They all spoke for a few minutes before Daniel took his leave.

“Your brother seems very nice.”

“And nothing like me?” Richard asked. He tried to contain his cynicism when near her but knew he didn’t always succeed.

She laughed. “I’m quite fond of you.”

He stilled at her casual remark. While she probably meant nothing by it, the wave of emotion that rolled over him nearly overwhelmed him. Daniel had always been the better-liked brother. To think she might prefer Richard... He hardly knew what to think.

“Besides, I don’t know either of you well enough to make such comparisons. That would be no different than asking if you think I’m like either of my sisters.”

“You’re not.” Of that he had no doubt. “You are special. Different.”

She raised her brow. “Why is it I’m uncertain once again whether you’re complimenting me or merely remarking on my behavior?”

“I obviously need to try harder.” He caught himself before he said anything more. What on earth was he doing? Flirting was all well and good but not with Caroline. That held too much risk. He needed to keep his focus on his goal, not on his fiancée.

As though to confirm his thought, Viscount Stafford stepped into Richard’s line of vision, reminding him of his purpose this evening. Resisting the temptation to continue his conversation with Caroline was more difficult than he expected, but he needed to complete his search of the library before the viscount decided to escape his guests and seek refuge there.

He took Caroline’s gloved hand and raised it to his lips. “I must speak with someone, but I would ask for a dance with you upon my return.”

“Of course.”

He left before he decided to do something rash, like give up his search so he could find a quiet alcove to share another kiss with her. Nonsensical idea.

Doing his best to avoid attention, he moved to the rear hall. Several rooms had been set up with card tables and were filled with people. He continued past, finding fewer and fewer people in the area. Making sure no one watched, he opened several of the doors off the hall that were interior rooms but didn’t find the library.

Hearing voices approaching, he stepped inside one of the rooms—a back parlor from what he could tell—until the voices passed. Then he took the rear stairs to the second level to continue his search and was finally rewarded when he opened a door near the top of the stairs.

He closed himself inside, retrieved a candle from a side table and lit it from the dying coals of the fire. Holding it aloft to survey the room, he surveyed the large, impressive space with its open timber ceiling and parquet floor. Tall shelves lined three of the walls with leather-bound volumes filling the shelves.

The arrangement of books looked more artful than practical from what Richard could tell. He’d be willing to wager that many of the books were written in French and the viscount had never opened most of them.

Richard eased toward the massive mahogany desk at the far end. That was the most likely place Stafford would hide any secrets. Hurrying, he set the candle on the desk, careful it didn’t tip. He opened the desk drawers, taking time to make sure he didn’t disturb anything. If the viscount were involved in treasonous activities, he would notice if anything were out of place.

To Richard’s frustration, the desk revealed little. A few personal letters, correspondence from a man of business, miscellaneous notes with dates and times jotted on them, but all from the past. None were helpful.

The center drawer was the only one locked. Richard retrieved his knife from a narrow sheath in his boot and used the blade to wiggle the latch, listening for the tell-tale click. He heard it, but the sound didn’t come from the drawer.

He quickly blew out the candle and rose to hide behind the drapes, hoping he hadn’t been discovered. The door opened and he held his breath. Silence filled the room, heavy and oppressive.

“Richard?” a feminine tone whispered.

That couldn’t be—

“Caroline?” He eased aside the drape but the glowing coals of the fire didn’t penetrate the inky blackness of the room. He couldn’t see anything. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” The shock in her voice was unmistakable. “Why are you in the viscount’s library? In the dark?” The way she said that last question made him think she thought that was the more outrageous of the two issues.

He retrieved his candle and lit it from the coals once again. He refused to have this conversation in the dark.

Caroline hurried forward, her brow creased with suspicion. “What are you doing in here?”

“I needed a moment away from the crowd.” He placed an arm around her to guide her toward the door.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“How did you find me?”

She pursed her lips, her disapproval clearly visible. “You’ve been gone for quite some time. Your absence was noticed.”

“What you mean to say is that you followed me.” He had no doubt she was the only one who knew he’d left the ballroom or where he was. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered.

He’d nearly had her to the door when the knob rattled.

“Th—”

Richard placed a finger over her lips as he blew out the candle once again. He rushed her toward the long leather sofa as it was the closest place to hide.

Caroline seemed to understand his urgency as she joined him behind it, quiet as a mouse.

Voices broke the silence of the room as light spilled in from the open doorway.

“I’m surprised to see you here this evening.” Stafford’s voice was easily recognizable.

“You and I have some unfinished business.”

Richard didn’t recognize to whom the deep male voice belonged.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Stafford sounded displeased at the implication.

“That stallion you promised to sell me last month is still not in my stable.”

Richard dearly wanted to rise to identify the stranger. They might very well be speaking in code. If so, he needed to know who the other man was.

A tremor passed through Caroline. With the added light Stafford brought, Richard could just make out that her eyes squeezed shut as though that might help them from being seen. He nearly smiled at the sight of her concern.

Why had she followed him? His cynical mind immediately jumped to the idea of her spying, but her fear in this moment suggested situations such as this were new to her. He squeezed her hand, wanting to reassure her all would be well.

When she opened her eyes to look at him, the trust in their depths was nearly his undoing. She reached for his hand with her free one, her sweet gesture squeezing his heart.

He was stunned to suddenly realize that he would go to extraordinary lengths in order to protect her. The knowledge surprised him, filling him with dismay. Desire was one thing, but this was something else.

His lack of regard for his personal safety was tied to the fact that he didn’t truly care if he lived or died. Or rather, he didn’t care of his fate once he’d claimed justice for Dumond. Maybe now he cared more than before.

As Caroline quivered against him, he knew how truly frightened she was. He drew her into the circle of his arms while the men continued their conversation about the horse. The sweet scent of her filled his senses, making it difficult to concentrate on the discussion. He mentally shook his head, forcing himself to focus on his work, not the woman in his arms.

The longer they spoke, the more certain Richard became that the conversation was about nothing more than a prize stallion.

Stafford agreed to deliver the steed the next week and the men drifted toward the door. After confirming the details, they left, and the door clicked shut behind them.

“Are they gone?” Caroline whispered in his ear, sending shivers along his spine.

“Yes. Let’s give them another minute to be certain.”

They waited, Richard all too aware of Caroline pressed against him. Before the minute was up, Richard could stand it no more. Her proximity was going to cause him to do something he shouldn’t.

He stood and assisted her to her feet. “Quickly, before they decide to return.”

“Yes.” She hurried with him to the door. Her hand paused mid-air as she reached for the knob when she turned to look at him. “But you still didn’t say what were you doing in here.”

He raised a brow. “Do you think me a thief?”

“No,” she said without hesitation. “Nor do I think you needed time away from the crowd. So what brought you to the viscount’s library?”

The temptation to tell her the truth surprised him. But he disliked telling lies, and for some reason, he especially didn’t like telling them to Caroline.

Did he dare distract her with a kiss? Even as he bent his head, the rattle of the doorknob caught his breath in his throat.