The press of lips against Amelia’s temple roused her from sleep. A smile curved her lips as she inhaled Penn’s scent. Rolling to her back, she opened her eyes. Her vision filled with his handsome face as he bent over her. Then his mouth found hers, and she closed her eyes again, sighing contentedly into his kiss.

When he pulled away, her lids fluttered open, and she blinked toward the window. “What time is it?”

“Early still,” he murmured. “But I need to leave, and I wanted to see you first.”

She pushed herself up to a sitting position, and he perched on the edge of the bed next to her. “Where are you going?”

He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the backs of her knuckles. “I need to deal with this earl nonsense.”

Amelia rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I need to find the vicar who will provide proof that I’m William Kersey. Then I’ll convince him to destroy it and forget I ever existed.”

“Can you do that?” She considered everything she knew of him, particularly his charm. She’d detested him on sight, and now look at them… “Never mind, of course you can. How long will you be gone?” She liked seeing him with a purpose—the spark was back in his gaze after yesterday’s shock.

“Hopefully no more than two days. I’m not entirely sure where the vicar is located, and I don’t want to ask my father. He’ll likely try to persuade me not to go. Besides, I’m still angry, and I don’t want to talk to him.” He sounded a bit like a belligerent boy, but she couldn’t blame him. His entire world had been turned upside down.

“If you don’t know where to go, how will you find him?”

He grinned, and her heart skipped. “You must know by now that I’m exceptionally good at finding things. And that includes people. My mother, that is, the woman who gave birth to me, left me enough clues. I believe this vicar is located in a village near the English border. We skirted it several times, and I was sure she met with someone on a few occasions. In retrospect, I think she visited this vicar or perhaps her parents.”

With his free hand, he tucked an errant hair behind her ear. “Will you wait here for me so that we may continue our quest when I return?”

Wait here with his parents with whom he was angry… That wouldn’t be awkward. “Perhaps I should go with you.”

He shook his head gently. “Egg is already preparing our horses. We’ll leave shortly and, if we’re lucky, return late tonight. You’ll have all day to peruse my father’s library, and he will undoubtedly relish the opportunity to share it with you.”

“I don’t know,” she said uncertainly. “I suspect everyone may be too upset to behave as if nothing’s wrong.”

His jaw tightened, and he glanced away before stroking her hand once more. “It will be fine. I promise. I have to do this. You understand, don’t you?”

She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss on the back. “I understand you want your life to remain as it is. I’m not sure you can accomplish that feat, but I support your endeavor. Please know that—I will support you no matter what.” Support him? What did that mean? She had feelings for this man. She cared for him, reveled in his company, admired him… But she’d no idea where it would lead. The most she could promise, and the most she could expect in return, was friendship.

“I appreciate that more than you know.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. “I wish I had more time,” he said softly against her mouth as his hand caressed her nape.

Delicious shivers raced down her spine and along her arms. “I wish you did too.”

He pulled away from her with a frustrated groan. “Someone will likely bring you a breakfast tray shortly. I should go before I’m discovered.”

She withdrew her hand from his. “It wouldn’t do for an earl to be caught trying to seduce a house guest.”

He grumbled low in his throat. “Another reason to avoid this bloody title. Nobody cares what Penn Bowen does.” He arched a dark brow at her. “In any case, I’m not trying to seduce you, my love. If you recall, I was quite successful.”

She swatted at him, and he stood with a soft laugh. “Maybe I was the successful one,” she said smugly.

“Indeed you were.” His eyes glimmered in the early morning light. “One more thing. I’m leaving the heart with you.” His gaze strayed to the table next to her bed upon which sat the, probably, fake Heart of Llanllwch. “You’ll keep it safe.” It wasn’t a question, but a confidence in her ability. “I hope to see you tonight.” He blew her a kiss and departed, leaving the stamp of his presence long after he’d gone.

Some time later, a housemaid delivered a tray, and Amelia finally roused herself from bed. She went to the small table near the window, and her gaze immediately caught a slip of paper tucked into the corner of the tray. It had to be a note from Penn. Smiling, she plucked it up and opened the parchment. Her good humor fled as she read the missive.

Amelia’s hands shook as she reread the short note. She turned it over in her hands searching for the author’s name, but there was no indication of who’d written it.

Immediately, she considered it must be from the Order, or more specifically, from the Camelot group. Foliot purportedly had the book. Had he penned the note? Why go to the trouble to steal the book in London several years ago and decide to trade it now? Unless the heart was just that important to him.

She turned her head to where the stone sat on her bedside table. How did he—or whoever had written the note—even know she was in possession of the heart? Somehow, they were aware that Penn had taken it from the museum.

Penn.

It didn’t even occur to her to abide by the author’s threat. Of course she would tell him. If he was still here.

She dressed hastily without assistance and made her way downstairs. In the hall, she encountered Thomas, the butler. “Excuse me, has Mr. Bowen—that is, Penn—departed already?”

The butler’s gaze reflected a mild surprise, but he covered it quickly. “I believe so.”

“You knew he was leaving?” Rhys Bowen’s voice from the doorway of his study drew her to pivot in his direction.

She saw no reason to lie. “Yes.”

“And you know where he went and why?”

Unsure if Penn’s father knew, she hesitated before answering, “I think so.”

Mr. Bowen gave a slight nod. He looked tired. Defeated perhaps. She briefly considered telling him about the note but decided Penn wouldn’t want that. At least not right now. That she felt a loyalty to Penn ought to have surprised her, but they’d forged a relationship that went beyond what she would have expected.

“We’re glad to have you here,” Mr. Bowen said. “Please excuse my wife and me—we’ll try to be engaging hosts, but this is a difficult time.”

“I understand,” Amelia murmured. What a tangle. She understood Penn’s anger but also saw the regret etched into his father’s expression. “I think I’ll just take a walk outside. Please don’t trouble yourself over me.”

He nodded before retreating to his study. Amelia turned and walked toward the back of the house, eager to see this place in the woods where Penn went. Perhaps being there would help her decide what to do, since she couldn’t talk with him.

She stepped outside, where the late summer morning held a touch of crispness. The temperature would creep lower and lower as the days shortened, but for now, she lifted her face to the cloud-dappled sky and closed her eyes while the sun’s rays heated her cheeks.

Taking a deep breath, she mentally chastised herself for leaving her bonnet inside, but then she hadn’t planned to come out here. She walked toward the wooded area beyond the yard.

As she picked her way into the canopy of trees, the temperature dropped, and she shivered. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she took a few more steps before her eye caught a small shelter nestled into the trees ahead.

Curious, she increased her pace until she arrived at the small lean-to. A bench was built against the only wall. Carvings on the wall drew her to move inside and study what had been written—or drawn. There were what looked like Celtic symbols as well as foreign words. Welsh, she thought. She bent and read the one word she could definitively read, carved just above the bench: Penn.

Again, she wished he hadn’t left. She’d tucked the note into a small pocket in her skirt and now removed it. She scanned the lines again and realized she’d nearly memorized it.

“Find something good?”

The deep masculine voice startled her, and she let out a squeal before turning around, her heart in her throat.

The gentleman leaned against a tree just outside the lean-to. “My apologies.”

Amelia willed her heart to slow as she stiffened her spine. Folding the paper in one hand, she slipped it back into her pocket. “I believe you’re trespassing.”

“Actually, I was going to say the same thing to you.”

She narrowed her eyes wondering if this man could be…

“I’m Kersey,” he said, affirming her suspicion.

She exhaled, relieved he wasn’t a brigand. Given her past experience with the dagger and now the note she’d received earlier, she wasn’t sure what to expect. “I’m Mrs. Amelia Forrest, an associate of Mr. Bowen’s.”

Kersey’s brow arched with interest. “Have you brought a medieval manuscript for him to review?”

“No, not that Mr. Bowen. Mr. Penn Bowen.”

The interest in his gaze deepened. “Penn is here?”

“Er, no.”

Kersey was a bit taller than Penn, but their frames were similar with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He was perhaps a few years younger than his half brother, and while their hair was a similar dark brown, Kersey’s eyes were a storm-heavy gray instead of Penn’s striking blue.

“He’s not here and yet you are. Why would he arrange to meet you here instead of at Oxford?” Kersey shook his head. “I suppose it’s none of my affair.”

Her mind warred with itself over what she knew and what she ought to disclose. It certainly wasn’t her place to tell this man about Penn’s parentage or where he’d gone. She could, however, talk with him about the White Book. That was, after all, what she and Penn had come here to do before everything had fallen to pieces with the Earl of Stratton’s death. Penn would want her to pursue their quest, she was sure of it. “Actually, it is your affair. I came here with Penn in the hope of finding you.”

Kersey’s eyes widened briefly, and the gray lightened with surprise. “Perhaps that’s why I was summoned. The note from Rhys didn’t say specifically.”

It wasn’t, but again, it wasn’t her place to enlighten him. She neither confirmed nor denied his assumption. This was a pivotal moment—she could become the seeker that Penn had groomed her to be, pursue the hunt her grandfather had started and been unable to finish. Or she could say nothing and await Penn’s return.

There wasn’t really a choice at all.

“My grandfather was Jonathan Gardiner.” This elicited another flash of surprise in Kersey’s expression. “Penn and I are looking for the White Book of Hergest. We believe Timothy Foliot has it in his possession and that you can perhaps help us obtain it.”

All that was rather moot, she realized. Or at least it could be since she had a clear path to the book—if she believed the note. And yet, she couldn’t go to this meeting at dusk on her own as the note demanded. Only a fool would embark on such a dangerous folly.

How she wished Penn hadn’t left!

It took Kersey a moment to respond. “I’m familiar with this book. However, I can’t help you get it. I’m probably the last person Foliot would care to see,” he said wryly.

“Right. Because you stole that sword from Penn’s sister.”

He flinched slightly. “You heard about that.”

“I did. I understand you may not be entirely trustworthy, but you’re the only hope we have.”

He studied her a moment, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. “It sounds as though you and Penn are quite close.”

“We’re working together to find the White Book of Hergest.”

“Why? What’s so special about this book? I know who your grandfather is, so I wonder what it has to do with the Heart of Llanllwch.”

She didn’t necessarily want to get into the specifics—Penn’s belief that the heart was fake, the theft of the dagger, or anything else. Especially if Kersey couldn’t help them. “Since you can’t provide assistance, I’m not sure there’s any point in my telling you.”

“You’re a cunning thing, aren’t you? I see why Penn would like you.” He pushed away from the tree and took a step toward her. “Perhaps I can help. I’m familiar with Foliot and his…organization. Which I’m not particularly proud of.” His gaze darkened. “But there’s a lot I’m not particularly proud of,” he added softly.

Somehow, she’d been thrust into the thick of this family, and she wasn’t sure what she thought of it.

“Ah well, I can’t change the past. I can only do my best to repent.” His gaze flicked to her skirt. “What was the paper you found?”

Her pulse quickened. “I didn’t find it.”

“Yet you were reading it out here.” He lowered his voice dramatically. “Is it a secret? Maybe a love note from Penn?” He smiled to show he was teasing. At least she thought he was teasing.

“It isn’t from him,” she said.

“You didn’t answer my question about why you’re meeting Penn here. If you’ve been working together, why isn’t he here?”

She fumbled for an excuse but could only think to say, “I didn’t meet him here. We arrived together. He’s gone on an errand with Egg.”

“And left you at Hollyhaven with his parents.” He cocked his head to the side. “I’d say he set out to do something dangerous and didn’t want you to accompany him. Perhaps he went to find the White Book on his own.”

“I don’t believe that’s what they’re doing.” She prayed Kersey wouldn’t ask.

“Well, since I am here and you and Penn are in need, perhaps I can assist you. I suppose we must wait for Penn to return.”

Except if she really wanted the White Book, she could trade the heart for it at dusk. And that was what she and Penn wanted, what her grandfather had wanted. However, her grandfather had also found the heart. Could she really turn it over to the Camelot group? She realized she wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t fake. It seemed Penn had impacted her in many ways.

The adventurous spirit he’d sparked in her begged for action. She wanted to make this trade, and standing in front of her was a person who could possibly help. If she could trust him.

She stared at him closely. “Did you mean what you said about repenting?”

“I did,” he said cautiously. “Why?”

“Because I am in need of assistance, and Penn isn’t here. I’m wary of trusting you, but I don’t think Penn will return in time.” Doubt crept over her. Perhaps she should have asked Rhys.

“I can see you already regret asking me to help. Let me put you at ease. I owe Penn and his family, and I would appreciate the opportunity to repay their kindness and care. They were there for me in…dark times. I repaid them with villainy.”

“That all sounds rather epic,” she said drily. “The note you saw me reading arrived in my room this morning.” She probably ought to have asked the maid where it came from. Penn would’ve known to do that. Again, she wished he hadn’t left.

“From whom?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect someone in the Camelot group.” She withdrew it from her pocket and handed it to him. As he reached for it, she pulled her hand back. “Do you swear I can trust you?”

“You can.”

She pinned him with a threatening stare. “You should know that I’m a fair shot, and I don’t appreciate being betrayed.”

“Thank you for the warning.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I swear on my life you can trust me.”

She gave him the note and watched as he scanned the lines. “Do you recognize the hand?”

“I don’t,” he said, frowning. “But this has to be from the Camelot group since they are in possession of the book. Unless the author is lying and looking to dupe you.”

“I considered that, which is why I won’t go alone.”

He returned the note to her keeping. “Would you have asked Penn if he were here?”

“I would.”

Kersey grinned. “Smart. I’ll say it again—I see why Penn likes you.”

Heat threatened to rise in her cheeks, but she kept it at bay. “Do you think it’s worth trying to make this trade?”

He looked at her intently. “Do you have the heart?”

“I do.”

He blew out a breath. “The author of this note knows that.”

She fingered the parchment before shoving it back into her pocket. “Clearly.”

“Which means you’ve been followed and your actions supervised,” he said. “But then you probably knew that too.”

Actually, that hadn’t occurred to her, but of course that was the only way anyone would know. Her neck pricked with unease. How long had they been followed? And why hadn’t they tried to steal the heart from them when they’d stopped at The Falcon in the Cotswolds? Perhaps this person was afraid of Penn, and that was why they didn’t want him aware of tonight’s transaction.

Tonight’s transaction.

That phrase made it seem as though she’d made up her mind. And she supposed she had. She wanted that book, and if the heart really was a fake—as Penn was certain it was—trading it away wouldn’t matter. “How do we do this if I’m supposed to go alone?”

Kersey crossed his arms over his chest. “I can hide in the trees—there’s a copse near where the rivers meet. Or I can disguise myself and go as your groom. They can’t object to you having a groom.”

She was skeptical of his ability to fool someone who might be acquainted with him. “Disguise yourself how? What if this person—or people—knows you?”

“I suspect they do,” he said without a shred of concern. Was he fearless or naïve? She doubted it was the latter. “I can make myself look different. Trust me.”

It appeared she had no choice. “I am. And don’t let me down.” She narrowed her eyes at him and pressed her lips together, trying to look imperious.

He bowed. “On my honor, of which I still have a bit, I will not.” He straightened. “I think it best if I don’t accompany you back to the house. Can you meet me here an hour before dusk? I’ll have a horse for you. I assume you ride?”

“Yes.” Well enough that Penn could’ve taken her with him. But then she wouldn’t have been here to receive the missive. She made a mental note to ask the maid where it had come from.

“Excellent. I’ll see you back here later. Until then, adieu.” He bowed again and took himself off, cutting through the trees away from the house.

Why had he come here instead of going to the house? She wished she’d asked, but decided it didn’t matter. As she watched him go, all she could think was how he would react when he learned the real reason behind Rhys’s summons. As upset as Penn had been about the revelation of his father, Kersey’s reaction could be far worse. He’d mentioned “dark times.” She knew his mother had abandoned him, and his wife had died. This was going to be a blow, and though they’d just met, she rather liked him.

She shook the dreary thoughts from her head as she turned back toward the house.

It was possible she’d have the White Book in hand when Penn returned. He would be so thrilled. And if he was able to stop the vicar from revealing his sire, things could perhaps continue as they’d planned. They’d have the book, find the real heart—

The smile starting to curve her lips faded. This wasn’t what she’d planned. She’d planned to protect her grandfather’s name and prove Penn wrong. If they found the real heart, her grandfather’s legacy would be tainted.

Book and heart aside, what would become of her relationship with Penn? With their quest finished, would they part ways? What else could they do?

She wasn’t free to marry. Not yet anyway. She’d have to have her husband declared legally dead, and she wasn’t sure what that entailed.

Besides, she and Penn hadn’t discussed a future, and until they did, all this was useless thinking. Better to keep her focus on the book and the heart.

As she neared the back of the house, the back of her mind asked, what of your heart?