Ordinarily, Edward loved nothing better than participating in a lively game of charades. But that had been before he’d straddled Fiona in the forest and seen baffled awareness spring to life in the depths of her dark green eyes.

His arousal had struck him like a shovel to the back of the head. Holy hell! What the devil had he been thinking to allow such inappropriate contact between them? Obviously, he hadn’t been using his head at all. That much was clear. He’d simply reacted on instinct until he’d been left with no choice but to add significant distance between them. Because the alternative…

He dared not even think of what that might have led to, not only because it would probably mean getting murdered by her six siblings but, more importantly, because he feared what it would do to his relationship with her. Revealing the way he truly felt would alter everything between them. And yet, the way she’d gazed up at him with slightly parted lips suggested she might finally be starting to view him in a different light.

She was young – only nineteen years to his thirty – and yet, as much as he’d tried to consider other women over the course of the last few months, none of them had captured his attention the way she did. So he watched her now while she mimed her clues, either shaking her head or nodding in response to the eager guesses being made. Her hair was a wild collection of curls that he longed to unpin and watch fall down her back, her features so soft he’d always compared her to Da Vinci’s depiction of the angel in Virgin of the Rocks. She was perfect in every way, the only woman with whom he envisioned forming an attachment. He loved her, damn it, so there could be no other. It had to be her, and only her.

“It’s your turn,” Emily said, forcing him out of his reverie. She stood before him, holding a box with one final piece of folded paper toward him.

He picked it up and glanced at it carefully, so the others would not be able to see. “You’ll never guess this one,” he said with exaggeration. Everyone loved the prankster in him, so that was what he’d deliver while keeping the sentimental romantic to himself. “I dare say it is quite impossible.” Allowing a grin, he got to his feet and strode to the center of the room.

“We’ll soon prove you wrong,” Belgrave said with a laugh.

Laura clapped her hands. “Oh, indeed we shall.”

Edward held up one finger.

“One word,” Fiona called, leaning forward in her seat.

Rewarding her with a gentle smile, Edward nodded before spreading his hands and moving them in a square, cube-like, outline.

Emily jumped in her seat. “A box!”

Edward wiped his hand over his forehead to indicate she was on the right track. He then tugged on his ear.

“Rhymes with,” Lady Oakland called out.

Pointing to the front of his throat, he glanced around the room and waited, a smile pulling at his lips while he watched their puzzled expressions. And then Fiona suddenly snapped her fingers together. “Adam’s apple rhymes with a word for box. It’s tabernacle!” She bounced in her seat, grinning with unabashed enthusiasm.

Edward gallantly bowed in her direction. “Well done, Imp.” He’d deliberately used the endearment he’d given her when she was little, for it allowed him to remember she deserved a suitor closer to her own age. But when he raised his gaze and his eyes caught hers, he saw she had stilled. A look of confusion marred her features. It was almost as if she could not comprehend what he’d said.

“Well, that was fun,” Emily said.

Laura stood. “I plan to put out some treats for the birds and squirrels down by the lake. Would anyone care to join me?”

“I think I could use some fresh air,” Lamont said.

“I will go too,” Rachel told her, after which Emily, Belgrave, and Montsmouth quickly joined the group.

“We’ll take our afternoon naps then,” Lady Oakland said, a wink directed at her husband.

Lady Duncaster chuckled. “Afternoon naps indeed.” She exited the room, while Lady Oakland turned a deep shade of pink.

Edward smiled as the gathering dispersed. “What about you?” he asked Fiona when he saw she remained behind. “Don’t you wish to join them?”

A lovely rose-colored hue crept into her cheeks. “No. I believe our walk this morning has given me enough outdoor exercise for the day.”

Edward’s chest tightened. He felt his heart drum slightly faster as he watched her lick her lips in a nervous gesture that made him want to pull her into his arms and taste her. Instead, he remained where he was. “Well then…would you like to join me for a cup of tea?”

Her eyes brightened with sudden interest. “Let’s order hot chocolate instead.” She went to the bell pull and called for a maid. “Shall we sit by the fire?”

“Of course.” He followed her over while trying to figure out how best to escape the stilted atmosphere that seemed to have settled between them. If only things could go back to the way they’d once been. If only he hadn’t knocked her onto her back and climbed over her. “About this morning,” he said while she lowered herself to the loveseat facing the fireplace.

Tilting her head, she looked up at him with eyes that threatened to be his undoing. No woman should be permitted to look at a man with such innocent obliviousness. “What about it?”

Realizing this would likely be one of those exhaustingly awkward conversations, Edward sighed heavily and sank down beside her. He should probably have claimed the adjacent armchair, but his craving for closeness with her would not be denied. Not when the door stood respectably open, and there was no risk of a scandal. Just as long as he kept his hands to himself. He folded them in his lap.

A maid entered the room. “How may I be of service?” she asked.

Fiona placed their order, and Edward waited until the maid had departed before saying, “I crossed the line. It won’t happen again.”

She drew a sharp breath, paused for a second, and then expelled it. “We were only playing. I see no harm in it.”

Perhaps not for her. He gritted his teeth. “Fiona, I am a grown man, and you are no longer a child, but a debutante in her first Season. For me to fall on you like I did and tickle you silly was horribly wrong. I apologize for it, truly I do.”

Biting her lip, she worried the plump piece of flesh while Edward reached for the armrest, his fingers clutching the wood like a vice. “Is our fun at an end then?”

“No.” How could she possibly think that? “I shall always be your partner in mischief.”

The maid reappeared carrying a tray filled with cups, a large pot of hot chocolate, and a plate with some slices of cake. She set it down on the table before them, bobbed a curtsy, and took her leave. Fiona reached for the pot and started to pour. “I sense things are changing between us,” she whispered, “and I’m not so sure I like it.”

“Consider it the price of growing up, Fiona. You cannot continue to play the child, and I cannot continue to indulge you.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing for all of these years?” She handed him his cup, her eyes wide with interest.

“No,” he confessed. Trying to drink, he almost scalded himself in the process, so he set the cup aside and turned enough to face her. “I have always enjoyed your company tremendously. In fact…the difference in age never felt like an issue.”

Until now.

She smiled at him over the rim of her own cup. Her lips parted slightly so she could blow on her drink before taking a sip.

Edward held his breath while he followed the movement, his blood heating in his veins as he watched her swallow. Christ! He would never be able to drink hot chocolate again without finding it highly erotic.

“I have always considered you to be my dearest friend,” she said, lowering the cup. “When I told you I wished to find my great aunt’s jewelry box during my stay here this past summer, my entire family tried to dissuade me. But you didn’t.”

“I know how important finding it is to you.”

She nodded and placed her cup on the table. “Perhaps…” Shaking her head, she turned in her seat, enough for her knee to brush his.

An overwhelming dart of pleasure rushed up his thigh, tightening his limbs and rendering him speechless.

“What if I were to tell you that I intend to continue my hunt while I’m here?” she asked.

Blinking, Edward tried to focus his lust-infused brain on what she’d just told him. “I’d say you do not lack determination.”

She grinned, bright and lovely. “You’re right. When I set my mind to something, nothing can make me give up.”

If only she’d set her mind to him then, he mused, cad that he was. He banked the baser urges she stirred in him. “Perhaps I can help.”

“Oh, Edward!” Reaching for his hands, she grasped them between her own while pure appreciation gleamed in her eyes. “I would love for us to go on this adventure together.”

Edward’s throat went dry. In spite of their closeness, he’d always been Chadwick to all of the Heartlys. Not Edward. Never Edward. Until now. This was the first time Fiona had used his given name. He wondered if she was even aware of the fact. Probably not.

Nodding numbly, he murmured, “So would I.”

He forced his most rapscallion smile in order to distract himself from the warmth of her fingers still holding his. There were no gloves between them, nothing but skin against skin, so enticing he was sorely tempted to pull her onto his lap and give her a lesson or two in the art of kissing.

Instead, he withdrew his hands from hers – sweet torture that it was – and offered her a slice of cake. She took it happily, eating it with a certain degree of enthusiasm that instantly made him smile.

“Can we begin our hunt right away?” she asked a few minutes later. “Given our limited time here, I don’t want to lose a second.”

“Of course.” He rose to his feet, relieved to add some distance between them. “Where would you like to start?”

“Well, my greataunt’s earring was found in one of the tunnels leading toward the sea. And then there’s the underground Roman villa Richard and Mary found.”

“They said it served as headquarters for the Cardinals – some sort of resistance movement your greataunt, grandfather, and Lord Duncaster were all a part of?”

“That’s right. A letter found by Mary and notes kept by my grandfather suggest their codenames were the North Wind, the South Wind, and the East Wind. We still don’t know who the West Wind might have been, but perhaps we can find some information about that as we search.”

“If we’re lucky.” He didn’t want to get her hopes up in case they failed to find anything at all.

She gave him a look of distinct disappointment. “Please don’t give up before we’ve begun.”

“I will do my best to help you in your quest, Fiona, you needn’t worry about that.”

“Good, because there’s also the journal Chloe and Stonegate found in the attic – the one outlining the members and deeds of the evil Electors – the men against whom the Cardinals fought.”

“I doubt we need to concern ourselves with them since Stonegate ensured they were all arrested.”

“Agreed,” Fiona said, “but it does go to show that clues might be found in any part of the manor. There’s no indication of where the treasure is hidden, but if we piece together what we already know, an image does begin to emerge.”

Fascinated by her attempts at deduction, Edward considered her closely. “How so?”

She stood and started to pace. “We know from my grandmother’s journal that my grandfather came here one night in order to retrieve a box. I propose she was referring to her sister’s jewelry box, which was sent from France when the Duchess of Marveille feared for her life. She did not wish for it to fall into the wrong hands. But when Grandpapa arrived here, something happened – something that prompted him to set out to sea with Lord Duncaster instead of returning home to his wife. Their ship was lost, both men drowned, but I doubt they would have taken the box out to sea with them when it was meant to be delivered to Grandmamma. Which means it must still be here since she never received it.”

“I suppose that sounds reasonable.”

She smiled and met his gaze. “What if the earring in the corridor below fell from the box after arrival? Perhaps Lord Duncaster tripped while carrying it, and a piece was lost. After that, he would have taken the stairs to the interior courtyard. No doubt, his intention would have been to hide the box in the underground villa, but time was of the essence – he would have wanted to make my grandfather aware of its arrival. So he stopped by his study first in order to pen a letter, temporarily hiding it somewhere there.”

“Once the letter was dispatched, how long do you suppose it might have taken your grandfather to arrive here?”

“His estate wasn’t far, perhaps an hour at a fast gallop.”

“So that would have given Lord Duncaster at least two hours in which to move the box elsewhere, possibly to the villa as you suggest.”

“Except it did not end up there. I gave the place a thorough look after Richard showed it to me.”

Edward considered this bit of information with interest. “And we also know something must have happened immediately after your grandfather’s arrival here to prompt both him and Lord Duncaster to flee.”

Fiona nodded. “I believe the Electors discovered who the Cardinals were, and they came to kill them.”

“The fourth one though, the West Wind. Do you think there’s a chance he might still be alive?”

“I honestly can’t say. As for the box, I suspect it is somewhere here on the ground level, either between Lord Duncaster’s study and the interior courtyard, or closer to the front entrance.”

“The parts of the manor he would have crossed before setting back out to sea.”

“Precisely.” She paused, her gaze locked with his, and it was almost as if she was waiting for him to react in some way, to close the distance between them and…what? She couldn’t possibly want the same as he, a bold and passionate embrace wrought with hunger and desire.

So he strode toward the door instead and gestured with his hand. “It seems our adventure awaits, my lady.” Smiling cheekily, he dipped his head and quietly added, “After you.”