WHEN LEONORA WOKE IN the morning, she found Philip gone. He’d left a note for her on the bedside table though, informing her to meet him downstairs as soon as she was ready. She glanced at the pendant watch she’d placed on the bedside table for the night. Good heavens! It was almost eight o’ clock. She never slept this late.

After leaping out of bed, she dressed with haste, did up her hair in a quick chignon and hurried downstairs.

“How long do I have for breakfast?” she asked Philip when she happened upon him in the foyer.

“About half an hour. I was actually coming to wake you.” He smiled, his dark eyes warm in the light of day. “Our fellow passengers from yesterday have already gone. They took an earlier coach that departed at five.”

That was the one she’d meant to take. Instead, she’d slept and now her sister would probably wonder where she was when she failed to show up at six o’clock that evening. It would most likely be closer to nine before she arrived.

Accepting there was little for her to do about that at this point, she accompanied Philip into the dining room where he ordered some eggs, ham, and toast, along with a hot pot of tea.

“We no longer need to play pretend,” Leonora said once her food had arrived and she’d taken a couple of bites. The reality of this had settled like a brick in her belly ever since he’d told her that those who thought they were married had gone. When she and Philip continued on their journey, it would be with a new group of passengers.

“I know.” He almost sounded regretful, but surely that wasn’t possible, not after he’d adamantly refused further intimacy with her last night.

“I should go fetch my things,” she said after finishing the rest of her breakfast in silence.

“I’ll help,” he offered.

They returned upstairs to collect their luggage, and Leonora hoped briefly that maybe, just maybe, he’d tell her they ought to continue their farce. But of course he didn’t. Why would he? They were practically strangers, after all, and she was being far too fanciful for her own good if she imagined he’d want a real romantic attachment with her on the basis of a single day’s acquaintance.

And yet she could not deny the emptiness inside or the curious longing she had for the touch of his hand. She wanted him to wrap his arm around her shoulders as he’d done yesterday and hold her close to his side. She wanted to bask in his warmth, savor his strength, inhale his scent and...

It was a hopeless dream, a ridiculous one if she were honest with herself. Philip Dalton was a successful businessman. What use could he possibly have for a woman who was struggling simply to pay her rent and avoid eviction? He was everything she aspired to be while she would just be a millstone around his neck.

“Are you ready?” he asked, waiting for her by the door.

She gave him an absent nod. “Yes.” It was a lie of course, but to ask him for more than he’d already offered, to risk spending the next twelve hours with a man who told her he’d only intended to offer protection, nothing more, wasn’t something she wished to endure.

At least this way she could let herself think that if things had been different, if they’d met in some other way, gotten to know each other better...that maybe then they might have had a chance of something more. So she followed him back downstairs and out into the courtyard. Her legs were numb, not from the cold but from heartache. How was that even possible? There had to be something wrong with her. To like a man so much after knowing him so briefly, to physically need him in a way that made her soul hurt with longing, was madness.

But what could not be denied was the spark that ignited the moment he took her hand to help her up into the coach. She sucked in a breath and instinctively turned her head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were shadowed by the dim morning light protruding beneath a grey cover of clouds, but there was interest there, an awareness humming between them.

Say something.

Please.

Tell me that this, whatever this is, isn’t over.

He placed his hand at her back, and his fingers curled briefly into her flesh before pushing against her to nudge her inside. She stepped forward, away from his touch, and sat down next to the window. When he climbed in after her, he took the opposite bench, officially confirming that yesterday’s experience would not be repeated.

Leonora turned to look out the window while the rest of the passengers boarded. She continued to do so while the carriage took off and until she was ready to take a nap since it saved her from having to look at Philip. Wanting him was something that needed to stop. She had to distract herself somehow with other things, so that was precisely what she did until they arrived in Sheffield.

Darkness had settled across the landscape by the time they rolled into the Black Raven’s courtyard a few minutes after nine. Leonora was the last to disembark, and when she reached the door, Philip was there to help her down.

She glanced at his hand. “Thank you, but I believe I can manage.”

“Leonora...”

Was that pain in his voice? “It’s all right. I am all right.” But if she touched him again she feared she might never recover. “Please.”

He lowered his hand and took a step back allowing her to climb down on her own.

“I have your valise,” he said, gesturing toward the piece of luggage sitting next to his own on the ground. “Are you expecting someone to come and meet you?”

His question made her realize how little they really knew about each other. They hadn’t even discussed where they were going, who they intended to visit, what their plans were for the future...

“I’m here to see my sister, but she expected me to arrive at six, so I doubt—”

“Miss Compton?” A broad-shouldered man with tufts of gray hair showing beneath the brim of his hat approached them. He shifted his gaze to Philip. “You wouldn’t happen to be Mr. Dalton by any chance?”

“Indeed I am.”

The man smiled. “Excellent.” He tipped his hat. “I’m Mr. Vance.”

“Then you must be here to collect me.” Philip glanced at Leonora and paused as if just now realizing that Mr. Vance had inquired if she was Miss Compton.

Leonora frowned. Collect him? She shook her head. “Are you heading toward the Lockwood estate, Mr. Dalton?”

He nodded. “I am indeed and from what I now gather, so are you.”

“Lady Lockwood is my sister. I’m here to spend Christmas with her and her husband.”

“The viscount is a longtime friend of mine,” Philip said. His voice was thoughtful, almost puzzled.

Leonora turned to Mr. Vance. “How did you know when to expect us?”

“I didn’t, but when you weren’t on the five o’clock coach, I decided to check the next one.” He rubbed his hands together. “Shall we be off? It’s not getting any warmer, but I do have a couple of hot bricks waiting for you in the carriage. He pointed to their valises. “Are these yours?”

“Yes.” Philip shook his head as if trying to dislodge an impediment to logical reasoning. “Allow me to help.”

Leonora followed the two men while wondering over the coincidence. What was the chance of her and Philip embarking on a pretend marriage together only to discover they were destined for the same place? Part of her wanted to celebrate while another wanted to scream. If this meant spending two weeks with a man who made her pulse leap every time he looked her way, she wasn’t sure how she would cope. Especially, since he’d made it clear that he would not be pursuing an attachment with her.

She climbed inside the carriage and settled herself in the far corner while the men placed the luggage in the boot. When Philip boarded, he sat down diagonally across from her, near the door.

“This is rather surprising,” he said several minutes into their onward journey to Lockwood Manor.

“I suppose it is.” Would he have refrained from saying she was his wife if he’d known they’d be spending...how long together? “Will your stay be an extended one?”

“I was planning to stay until after Christmas.”

“But now you’re having second thoughts?” Wonderful! Not only did he want nothing to do with her any more, but he wanted to be as far from her as possible.

“It’s not you, it’s—”

“Please stop.” If he said that he was to blame and that she deserved better or some such nonsense, she believed she might hit him with her reticule.

“It is just—”

“Whatever your reasons, I prefer that you do not share them with me at this moment.”

“Very well.” Silence fell between them, allowing her to focus on the soft clopping of hooves and the occasional squeaking of springs. Until, “You never did tell me what Mr. Becker did to incur your displeasure.”

Leonora sighed. If they were to avoid ruining the holidays for her family, they would have to find a way to converse with each other, and this subject was at least one that would redirect her focus and her emotions away from Philip. “He owns the building I am renting on Bond Street.”

“You never mentioned it when we spoke of the Gentleman’s Emporium being there.”

She shrugged. “It had little to do with the subject we were discussing at the time and...” Inhaling deeply, she pulled the blanket across her lap a bit tighter and shifted her feet on the hot brick for added warmth. “Anyway, he only just acquired it, so he came to inform me yesterday morning that he plans on doubling the rent.”

“You think he’s trying to force you out?”

“I don’t know, but I have to find a way to pay it or I’ll have no other choice but to move to a different location, and I think that would be bad for business.”

“Bond Street does offer excellent foot traffic, but so does Piccadilly and a few other places.”

“If there is space available with the necessary room I require.”

He leaned forward slightly, offering her his full attention. “What sort of business do you own?”

“It’s a plant shop.”

“So you need a hothouse.”

She nodded. “I had the dining room changed into one at the current location, which is part of the reason I’m so loath to leave, but I’m still in the learning phase and establishing a loyal clientele takes time. Time I’m not so sure I have.”

“Because of the increase in rent, you would have to double your sales.” He seemed to consider. “What sort of plants are you selling? Flowers or—”

“It’s a mixture of vegetables, flowers, and fruit.”

“Hmmm.”

He said nothing further, leaving Leonora to wonder what on earth he had meant by hmmm. But then he crossed to her side of the bench and leaned close enough for her to see a sharp gleam of interest in his eyes. “I think you’re spreading yourself too thin.”

“One of my employees who’s also a very good friend warned me of the same thing, but I believe people need all of these items, so I didn’t want to exclude any, not to mention that the vegetables are cheaper to come by and—”

“They’re not what Bond Street customers are looking for though.” He took her hand and gently squeezed it just as he’d done the day before, and Leonora almost forgot herself. She almost sighed and swayed toward him. Almost. “I think you should focus on the flowers and fruit alone. These are valuable, difficult-to-come-by products. Anyone can grow some carrots and beans in their vegetable garden, but only a few can produce a magnificent bouquet of roses and a plate of delicious pineapple slices.”

“I actually have a pineapple plant that I’m hoping to propagate once it bears fruit.”

Even in the dark interior, she could see his startled expression. “You’ve a veritable gold mine then, Leonora. Do you have any idea what one single pineapple sells for? They’re worth a fortune.”

“Yes, I know, but producing them is a slow process. It will take time, which is why I thought to add diversity so the shop wouldn’t look so empty when people walk in.”

“I understand your reasoning completely, but I still believe it’s wrong.” He retrieved his hand, leaving her slightly bereft. He added a bit of distance between them. “Do you have enough funds to buy additional flowers until you have more fruit to sell?”

“Not really. I spent most of what my parents gave me on the rent, the renovations, and the products I’ve bought so far.”

“But it wasn’t enough.”

The way he said it assured her that he knew this to be true – that her shortage of funds now was not due to any mismanagement on her part. “Getting started cost more than I initially expected and...” She wondered if she ought to divulge the rest and decided that as odd as it probably was, she trusted him not to think less of her if she did, so she said, “It depleted my dowry of five hundred pounds, so as you can see, I must make it work now one way or the other.”

The carriage rounded a corner, allowing moonlight to spill in through the window and onto his face. Sympathy was etched in his features, concealed almost instantly as the light faded back into darkness. “Have you considered a loan from a bank or—”

She laughed. “I am a woman without any property to my name. A banker would laugh at the mere suggestion of lending me money.”

“True.” He flattened his mouth. “What of your sister then?”

“I prefer not to ask.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “Did it ever occur to you that you might not have a choice?” He gave her a sideways glance. “There is no shame in borrowing money as long as you’re able to pay it back, and you strike me as the sort of woman for whom that could even prove an incentive to doing well.” Turning, he leaned a bit closer. “Most businesses start with a loan. Very few people have sufficient funds of their own, and those who do are generally above going into trade.”

This caught her interest. “Did you take a loan?”

“Yes.” He paused as if unsure about whether he ought to say more. Returning to the opposite bench, he flung his greatcoat around his legs, tucking it in at the sides. “I grew up just outside London. My father was a cobbler, my mother a seamstress, and my expectations few considering the measly income I made running errands for the local shops.” He stretched out his legs. “After my wife died, I decided I wanted more than what I could hope for as the renowned widower of an adulteress.”

Leonora sucked in a breath. “She...” Good lord. “How could she possibly be unfaithful to you?”

He was quiet so long she began to doubt he would offer an answer or an explanation. But then he did, his voice distant as he confided in her the tragedy that had been his marriage.

“I’m so sorry,” she said once he’d finished. Her heart was in tatters, aching on his behalf. “No one should have to experience such pain and betrayal.”

He gave a curt nod, cleared his throat, and continued. “So I packed my things, borrowed twenty pounds from my father, and moved to the center of London.”

“You started The Gentleman’s Emporium with only twenty pounds?”

“No. I started the Mayfair Couriers with that.”

Leonora’s eyes widened. She’d used the Mayfair Couriers herself when a client had wanted a special bouquet delivered to a certain address. The company guaranteed efficiency and easy engagement. All she’d had to do in order to summon one of their errand boys was post a sign on her front door. The boys made their rounds frequently through the streets which guaranteed that they spotted the sign at some point during the day. In Leonora’s experience, it worked really well.

“I used my earnings from that business and the income I made when I sold part of it off to Lockwood to open The Gentleman’s Emporium.”

“Lockwood’s in trade?” It sounded impossible.

“No. We don’t call it that, considering his position in Society. He’s more of an investor.”

Leonora stared across at Philip. “How long did it take you to accomplish all of this?”

“Ten years.”

“But you don’t look a day over thirty,” she blurted.

Grinning, he said, “I’m actually nine and twenty.” He must have noticed her confounded expression because he quickly explained, “I had just turned nineteen when I married. Claire died a few months after.”

“How did she die, if you don’t mind my asking?” She knew it was an intrusive question. If he refused to answer, she would understand, but curiosity compelled her to try and find out more.

“There are some twisted people in this world, Leonora. Claire met her demise at the hands of one of them when her...her...” He fell silent and all Leonora could hear was him breathing roughly, as if struggling for composure. “Her wantonness caused her to offer herself to the wrong man.”

“Dear god.”

He turned his gaze swiftly toward her. “You must excuse me for speaking in such crass terms, but I cannot think of any other way in which to describe what happened. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” The cruelty he’d endured at the hands of a person he’d pledged his life to was more than any man should have to endure. It was too tragic to contemplate, too awful to even consider, but it did provide her with some important insight which in turn made her regret the way she’d behaved with him yesterday. “When I suggested we share a bed, I wasn’t...that is to say...I hope you do not think that I—”

“You may rest assured, Leonora. There is no similarity between you and Claire. I know you were merely trying to be polite and considerate, for which I thank you, though I would urge you not to repeat such an offer to any other man ever again, unless he happens to be your husband. One may eventually take more than you are prepared to give.”

The reprimand was there, subtly intertwined with his appreciation. She could not blame him. Not when experience had taught him that women were easily seduced by any man showing an interest. But that was not the case with her. Other men, like Mr.Young, had made their intentions clear, but she’d wanted more than the prestige or wealth they had to offer. She’d hoped for all the complicated feelings Philip instilled in her heart.

So she said the only thing she could think to say. “Repeating the offer is out of the question since it is unlikely I’ll ever be spending the night alone with you ever again.” Her heart fluttered wildly against her breast as she spoke, but she wanted him to know that he was the only man who would ever prompt her to propose such a thing.

He stared at her, his lips parting as though he meant to comment, but then the carriage rolled to a stop and Philip looked out. “We’re here.” He opened the door and stepped down while Leonora took a series of deep breaths in an effort to steady her nerves.

What on earth was she thinking to confess such a thing and burden him with the knowledge that she wanted more than what he was prepared to give her?

Selfish. Stupid. Completely unnecessary.

She clasped the hand he offered, ignored the simmering heat that swept through her as soon as they came into contact, released him, and went to greet her sister, who’d come out onto the front steps of her home. “It is so good to see you again,” Leonora said as she gave Caroline a tight hug.

“You too. I hope the journey was not too tedious.”

“I had Mr. Dalton for company. Didn’t realize he was coming here as well until we arrived in Sheffield.”

“You made it, I see,” Lockwood said as he too came to greet them. He gave Leonora a quick embrace before going to shake Philip’s hand. “Shall we go inside and get you warmed up? You must be exhausted. Here, let me take one of those bags.”

They bustled inside where the butler stood ready to help them off with their outdoor clothing. It was still quite chilly in the foyer, but a lovely fire burned in the parlor, and the tea that was swiftly brought in warmed and soothed Leonora’s body.

“Are you hungry?” Caroline asked.

“Famished,” Leonora admitted. “But I’m also extremely tired. Do you suppose I might have a tray brought up to my room once I’ve finished my tea?”

“Of course.” Caroline looked across at Philip. “How about you? Would you prefer the dining room or a tray?”

“A tray will be fine.”

“Perhaps you’d like to join me for a drink in the library first?” Lockwood asked.

Philip smiled. “Certainly.” He and Lockwood both stood.

“If you’ll excuse us, ladies,” Lockwood said. “I believe we’ll bid you both a good evening.” He crossed to where his wife sat and bent to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you upstairs in a bit, my darling.”

An ache sliced its way through Leonora’s heart.

The words, spoken with immense tenderness, expanded the emptiness in her soul until it gaped with tremendous yearning. She glanced at Philip and started a little when she found him watching her with a pensive expression.

"Until tomorrow," he murmured softly.

Leonora nodded. "Good night."

The men departed and the door closed behind them. Caroline turned to Leonora. "So what exactly happened between you and Mr. Dalton on the way here?"

Leonora, who'd just been taking another sip of tea, sputtered. "What do you mean?"

Caroline raised her eyebrows. "You kept on sneaking glances at each other." She crossed her arms. "It was almost as if you were playing some strange game of trying to catch the other one out."

"It is nothing. Mr. Dalton is a perfect gentleman. We merely had a misunderstanding."

"What sort of misunderstanding?"

"The sort where I believed him to be horrid and treated him accordingly."

"Oh dear."

Leonora patted her sister's hand. "You needn't worry. We resolved it all in the end." And then, because this was her sister and they'd always shared all their secrets with each other, she added, "After informing our fellow passengers that we were married."

Caroline's eyes widened with obvious dismay. She opened her mouth as if to comment, but when no words emerged, Leonora took it as her cue to explain. Which she proceeded to do for the next half hour.

"I fell in love with Lockwood at first sight as well," Caroline said when Leonora had finished.

"No you did not. It took at least a week, and just so we are clear, I am not in love with Mr. Dalton."

"You're wrong on both counts, dear sister." Caroline smiled the sort of secretive smile that suggested she knew something no one else did. "The way you speak of him says it all. Your eyes light up and your cheeks turn pink. Even your voice has a softer edge to it." She nodded as if this was undeniable proof of her suppositions. "You love Mr. Dalton."

"Don't be absurd, Caroline. We've only just met."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Absolutely everything. You cannot love someone you do not know." Leonora stood, intent on getting herself off to bed before Caroline decided she needed to start preparing for an engagement party. She ought to have known confiding in her sister would lead to this. She'd always been a romantic.

"From what you just described, you know him well already." Following Leonora from the room, she counted off on her fingers. "He's a gentleman, he's honorable, charming by your own account, not to mention wealthy and available."

He'd also shared some difficult information about himself – personal information that Leonora believed he refrained from telling most people.

“He also runs a business,” Caroline continued, “so you have that in common. Which reminds me. I’ve completely neglected to ask how your shop is doing.”

“I haven’t made a success of it yet, but I’ll get there. Eventually,” Leonora replied. In spite of Philip’s advice, she would not taint this holiday with her troubles, nor would she ask her sister to come to her aide. Her problems were her own to deal with. She firmly believed that if her shop was to thrive, she would have to stand on her own two feet. Especially since her father had already given her five hundred pounds.

“Of course you will. No one is more passionate about plants than you, Leonora, and with the holidays rapidly approaching, I’m sure your sales will increase.”

Leonora certainly hoped so. She still didn’t feel right about leaving Kathy alone to manage everything. It was too much like running away and abandoning ship, which was something she’d never done in her life. Leonora Compton faced problems and did her best to solve them, but it was lovely seeing Caroline again and...

“Is Lucy awake by any chance?” she asked as they reached the top of the stairs.

“I’m afraid not, but you’ll be able to make her acquaintance in the morning. She usually rises early.”

Turning right, they made their way along a hallway until they reached the room where Leonora would be staying. She turned to face her sister. “You look well, as if motherhood agrees with you.”

Caroline beamed. “I love my daughter more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone. She is the brightness in our lives – a true gift unlike any other. We cherish our moments with her, and in some ways, I think she has strengthened my bond with Lockwood.”

“That sounds...wonderful.”

“It is.” Caroline opened the bedchamber door so Leonora could enter. “I know marriage isn’t a priority for you.”

“I don’t possess the qualities of a Society wife the way you do, Caro.” Leonora smiled. “And yes, I am far more interested in managing a business than I am in running a home.”

“Could you not do both?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I suppose. But first I would have to find the right gentleman and...” She met Caroline’s amused gaze. “No. Do not start on this again. Mr. Dalton and I had a lark, that is all.”

“If you say so.” Caroline backed herself through the doorway. “I’ll have your tray brought up right away.”

“Caro...”

“Sleep well, dear sister and...” She smirked. “Sweet dreams.”

Leonora reached for a pillow and tossed it at her. The door swung shut before it struck its mark. It was clearly time for Leonora to prepare, because if there was one thing she knew about Caroline, it was that she loved nothing more than a brilliant match.