Adeline stretched her arms above her head and arched her back with a low groan, careful not to knock into Poppy, who slumbered on the seat next to her. The maid had been like a hawk the entire journey to London, completely at odds with her less than attentive demeanor while at Faversham Abbey.

And what a comfortable jaunt it had been. Jasper’s traveling coach was as he’d proclaimed, well-maintained and lavish, with an even, smooth ride to match—so far superior to her own family’s carriage she might as well have been riding in a market cart before. Now, she had the sense she traveled like a queen—or at least a princess. As they’d rolled through the small towns on their way from Kent to London, people had stopped to gawk and wave as they passed. Young children dropped whatever they held and ran alongside, shouting their hellos.

If Alistair were in possession of such a fine conveyance, Adeline would endeavor to spend more time traveling…to Somerset, Essex, Bath, Dover, and, oh, certainly a trip to Kent. She would visit her sisters at Miss Emmeline’s School each and every month, without fail.

Images of the man sitting across from her invaded her sweet fantasy. Would she long to stop at Faversham Abbey, as well?

She glanced to where he sat across from her, his scowl focused out the window as they entered London proper. When he met her in the foyer at the Abbey, prepared to depart, she’d been taken aback by what she saw. Gone was his casual appearance as he’d oiled and tied back his dark hair with a shiny black ribbon, his boots were polished until they shone, his coat and neckcloth—while outdated by society standards—were clean, pressed, and well-tailored. His trousers were not as form-fitting as was commonplace among the London ton, but they accentuated his muscular thighs. The height of his collar and the tie of his cravat hid the worst of his scars, but still Adeline could see them below his ear and at his cheek.

To her chagrin, Jasper—err, Lord Ailesbury—could walk into any Bond Street shop or stroll the rows at Hyde Park, and no one would think anything of it. His aristocratic nose, hard jawline, and reserved arrogance were the makings of a most sought after lord.

Bond Street and Hyde Park were one thing…the Melton horde was another. With eight siblings, Adeline could never accurately predict what they would say or do. Thankfully, Arabella and Ainsley were in Canterbury, and Adeline’s mother hardly left her rooms. But that still left all four of her brothers, Alistair, Abel, Alfred, and Adrian, and her two sisters, Adelaide and Amelia. Plus, Theodora… Adeline could not forget her dearest friend-turned-family-member. Part of her argued she should inform Jasper what was to come once they arrived at her family’s home. Although another part of her—a far more insistent part—suspected that if he knew, he’d likely push her from the moving carriage as it rolled past her family townhouse and hurry back to the Abbey as quickly as he could.

She refused to dwell on why she cared so much about her family’s opinion of the earl.

He’d merely rescued her from the storm, provided shelter and food until it passed, attempted to repair their family coach, and now returned her to the loving embrace of her kin.

Simple. Uncomplicated. And unquestionably noble of Lord Ailesbury.

Unfortunately, in Adeline’s mind, nothing about Jasper was simple or uncomplicated—though she never doubted his noble intent.

Certainly, it was her actions and thoughts that were not quite so pure.

Her skin grew warm every time she thought of him rescuing Grovedale from harm.

A tingle shot through her each time she pictured him in his library, pacing before the fire, with the light making his shirt all but transparent. His corded muscles, his broad shoulders, his powerful stride…then it had all broken down when he’d dropped his tumbler and allowed his head to fall backwards as his eyes closed.

It had been meant to be a private moment. Had he been reflecting on the past? Relieved about the present? Or dreading the future?

Adeline did not know, nor had she asked. What she was certain of, was that she could have stood there, her back pressed against the closed door, and watched him in his private musings all night—and possibly into the next day.

As they traversed the congested London streets on their way to her family home, Adeline noted a transformation in the man sitting across from her. He no longer looked bored nor irritated. His pensive scowl gradually altered to a look of utter disbelief—he was enthralled with the scene outside his coach. They rolled down the wide street, taking their place in the slow-moving line of coaches and horsemen, no one paying them any mind. It was far different than the fascinated looks they’d received as they traveled through the remote countryside.

Adeline glanced out her window, attempting to see the London streets from Jasper’s eyes as if she were seeing it all for the first time.

Women promenaded down the walk on the arms of finely dressed gentlemen, with their servants following, their arms heavy with their masters’ Bond Street purchases. A shopkeeper swept the wooden walk outside his shop and waved to a man on horseback. A cart, loaded precariously with fruits and vegetables for the market, careened to the left to avoid a man who stepped into the street without first looking. The sharp shrillness of a child’s scream drew Adeline’s attention to a mother and son, standing outside Samson’s Ices, the babe pulling and straining toward the shop and the delights within.

“My aunt, Alice, said my parents would bring me to London with them when I was a babe,” Jasper said, sitting back in his seat and turning toward her. His unexpected words startled her—he’d been silent most of the trip, even dozing for a while. “However, I remember nothing about the city or our time here.”

His stare turned hooded, and Adeline wondered if his thoughts had traveled to his deceased parents or his aunt, whom he spoke of with such reverence and kindness it was as if she were the only mother he knew. Yet, he hadn’t been a babe when his parents died—twelve is young adulthood. Adeline had traveled to Canterbury all on her own by mail coach at the same age.

“London can be overwhelming and stiflingly grand if one is not versed in city life, my lord.” She added the my lord in preparation for the time to come. She needed to keep in mind that Jasper was only the man who’d stumbled upon her unusable carriage and offered assistance, he was nothing more to her. He could be nothing more. “I have found that one either falls in love with the hustle and bustle of London, or they depart and return only when forced.”

His brow drew low as he allowed that to sink in. When he remained silent, and her maid, Poppy, began to stir, Adeline sat back against the velvet cushion.

All too soon, the carriage shifted, indicating they’d turned off the main street and onto the lane that led to her family townhouse. There was no time left to warn him about her peculiar family, nor her overbearing eldest brother. There was no time to make apologies for anything that might spring from her siblings’ mouths.

There was no time to even so much as tamp down her nerves because the traveling coach swayed once more as it turned into the rounded drive of the Melton Townhouse and drew to a stop.