Normally, Devlin would not have stayed at Prescott House, but since the purchase of Dartmouth Place, he’d let go of the lodgings he normally kept in London. He now sat in his uncle’s library and wondered if he should be sent to Bedlam.

For he was beginning to make plans for when he moved out to the country. Plans that might involve bringing a wife along with him.

For Harold, he was certain, had committed to their chosen course of action.

Devlin would travel with the family to Priory Point and provide his assistance in the matter.

Sophia would also have need of him. The fallout could prove tricky, indeed.

It could be a beginning for the two of them, if all went as planned. It would be necessary that they wait, of course, but they would take this one step at a time.

If it was what she wanted.

He was reasonably certain it was her desire to be with him. She’d told him she loved him, for Christ’s sake. But so much needed to be resolved.

And much of it hung upon the courage of a cousin who had lacked confidence for all of his adult life, a man who doubted his own right to happiness because of deep-seated guilt and shame.

Dev threw back one final mouthful of scotch and contemplated the possibility of taking Sophia with him to Surrey. An interesting thought on today, of all days — her wedding day to another man.

He chuckled to himself as he recalled the spectacle the bride and groom had nearly made of the formal ceremony. Devlin had had eyes for only her, and he’d realized what was happening the first moment she’d stifled her laughter. She must have been near hysteria. The farce of it too much.

Thank God, they hadn’t lost control.

They did not need any further complications. Dev would have Harold execute their plan so that he, Dev, could propose, get a special license, and then take such vows himself with Sophia.

And mean every damn one of them.

The clock on the mantel showed it to be nearly one o’clock in the morning. With a long day of travel planned for the morrow, he probably ought to try to get some rest tonight, something he’d resisted for some reason. Or something he thought might simply elude him.

What with knowing that Sophia, on her wedding night, slept in the same house…

Alone…

He stood and stretched before extinguished the few candles he’d left burning. Just as he turned to head upstairs, the pitter-patter of four tiny feet caught his attention.

Peaches stood on the floor before him, tail wagging. She spun in an impatient circle and let out one quick bark. She then spun in two more circles.

It was obvious the dog wanted her to follow him.

Had she gotten locked out of Sophia’s room, somehow? He strode quickly behind the red, exasperated little body, as she ran forward and then back, returning to make sure he was following, several times. They were not headed toward the wing where he knew Sophia’s chamber to be.

Growing more curious by the moment, Dev dutifully followed the impatient little canine.

And then, as he rounded a corner near the gallery, he could not help but smile at the unexpected sight before him.

This must be the reason he’d not gone to bed earlier. For, shoved into the air, in a childlike sort of pose, was Sophia’s nightgown-clad bottom, wriggling temptingly before him.

At first, he could not discern what she was doing, but then he realized her blond head was bent awkwardly forward, poking through the bars of the gate leading to the gallery.

And she was cursing like a bloody soldier.

His assistance was, indeed, most necessary.

“Sophia, Sophia,” he said as he got closer to the little bundle of frustration, “what on earth are you doing?”

“Oh, just sitting here, staring at the floor.” Makin a vain attempt to pull herself out, she winced at her efforts. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Er, well…” Was this a trick question?

“Oh, Dev…” She moaned as she said his name, unable to turn her head toward him. She suddenly looked quite defeated. “…oh, Dev, I’m so glad it’s you.” And then, as though she’d remembered something beyond belief, she shrieked. “You should have told me! Why did you not tell me the truth? About Harold?”

She was on her knees and could not look up at him, so he crouched down beside her.

Ah, so Harold had told her. He was surprised, actually. It was a secret his cousin had guarded all his life. “It was not my secret to tell, love.”

“What a fool I’ve been. To think I had imagined him in love with me! I had no idea! I’m not really even certain as to the mechanics of it, but he does rather seem to enjoy it.”

“He told you this?”

“Oh, no,” She tried to shake her head but flinched as the bars prevented her from doing so. “I was going to see if he wanted to look for something to eat with me, since I heard him moving about, and I peeked in and I, well, I… saw them… together…”

Dev did not know what to say to this. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but I hoped perhaps it wouldn’t be necessary. If everything works out as planned—”

And then a small sob escaped her. “It’s not going to work out. Your plan is not going to work. I can never be granted an annulment.” She seemed suddenly quite frantic, for which situation, he wasn’t certain.

An annulment had been one of their scenarios, but not the one they’d decided upon. Harold had been mortified at the thought that people might guess as to why. But what was she saying?

“Why not, love?”

“The examination. The impossible examination.” And then gritting her teeth, she choked on another sob. “Can you free me from this blasted barnacle?”

He cursed himself for not liberating her right away. Redness had appeared where the bars had irritated the skin along the sides of her face, and it looked as though she’d cut one of her ears. “Of course.” He looked around and could not see anything sturdy enough to pry the heavy iron bars open. Slipping off his waistcoat, he folded it and helped place it beneath her knees.

Her pitiful little knees were red from the cold marble floor. And her feet were frozen.

“I’m going to find something sturdy enough to pry this apart, and some oil for the sides of your face.” Standing, he turned back toward her. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said to her sweetly feminine bottom.

He chuckled as he heard her growl but then rushed away to find what he would need. She must have been there a while. Once he pried her out, they could discuss whatever it was that she was so upset about.

An examination? And she’d mentioned an annulment. She must be thinking an exam would be required to ensure she was still a maiden, which was quite simply not the case. Hadn’t been for centuries, to his knowledge. Annulments, in fact, were far more complicated than that. Sophia was the one who could demand an annulment, if Harold refused to consummate, but that was not a part of the plan either.

He located a fire poker and some lavender oil and rushed back to where he’d left her. As he approached, he could hear her talking to Peaches. “Telling me not to go anywhere. Does the addle pate not see I would do just that if only I could? Aw, you’re a sweet baby.”

“Sophia?” he said, crouching once more. She could not turn her head to look at him, and he decided that would be the first thing he would address. “I’m going to open the gate, so that I can get around to the other side. Can you move sideways on your knees so I can move it, just a few feet?”

“I can. Just get me out of here before morning. I’d rather the duchess and duke not discover me here on their way to breakfast.”

It was the least of his concerns. But if it bothered her… “We’ll get you out, love.”

He rose again, unlocked the gate, and then, slowly inched it open just enough to slip through to the other side.

When he got to the other side, he sat down on the floor, legs crossed in front of him, and pulled the oil out of his shirt pocket.

“Look up, Sophia,” he said. She did so, and he saw tearstained cheeks rubbed nearly raw on the sides. “You’re rather pitiful, aren’t you?” He warmed some of the lavender oil on his palms before raising his hands to the sides of her face. Leaning forward, he kissed her softly on the lips.

“This ought to calm any swelling but also help you slide through. Don’t move, that’s a good girl. Relax.” He watched her eyes close and noticed a few more tears escape through her lashes.

“Devlin, I know you were going to help me. I know that you and Harold thought you could get us out of this, but I’m not… I’m not…”

“Shh…” He would set her racing mind to rest. “The idea of testing for your maidenhood is a medieval one. The law does not do that. The church does not do that. There is not one damn soul on earth who I would allow to do that to you. Not now, not ever.” Was that what this was about? Was she simply afraid of such a thing? Or was she afraid because she had already lain with a man?

That thought brought him up short. Did it matter? He supposed, on some base level, every man liked to think he was the only one. But had she been in love with somebody else? Was she still?

“Is there somebody else?” he asked, even as he rubbed the oil on her cheeks, her neck, her ears.

She shook her head slightly, moving what little she could, from side to side. “There is not,” she said seriously. “But, I am not… untouched.”

He moved his hands down her neck to her shoulders, which were rigid and tense. “Did you love someone before? You don’t have to tell me, if you do not wish to do so…” A part of him wanted to know, and another part did not. He was tired of all the miscommunications though, and the secrets. She seemed to have been worrying over this for some time. Best to get it out now.

“It was a long time ago,” she said.

“How long?” he asked. Hell and damnation, she was barely twenty. Some cad most likely had taken advantage of her naiveté when she first had come out. Young innocents, not chaperoned properly, were easily susceptible to a well-practiced, unscrupulous rake.

She seemed to be mentally counting back. “Nearly seven years.”

What the hell? “You were a child!” He rose abruptly from the floor. A burst of violence shot through him. Grabbing the fireplace poker, he looked for a strategic place where he could secure it between the bars. He needed to free her now.

Touching her hair, almost without thinking, he soothed her as he wedged the bar into place. “I’m going to pry these apart so that you can slip back out. Tell me when you are ready.”

Had she been raped? Goddamn it! She must have been. Who? Had the bastard been punished?

“All right,” she said, “I’m ready.”

“Who was it, Sophia?” he said as he put all his weight into leveraging the rods apart. “Now, Sophia, try now.” He watched carefully as she wiggled a little. “Don’t flinch. Relax your face. The muscles will stop you from sliding through.”

She did as he’d said, and before he had to release the bars, her head slid backwards and out. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She rubbed the sides of her face and then stretched her neck from one side to the other.

“You were a child.” He extracted the poker from the gate. He’d barely moved the rods at all, but it had been enough.

“I’m safe now. I got good at that. And now it’s over.” She winced as she attempted to stand up. Rushing around the gate, Devlin assisted her the rest of the way to her feet.

“How long have you been down here?”

She shrugged and then winced again. “I came down a little after midnight. Did Peaches find you?” It had been someone she’d known. Someone she’d trusted.

“Scofield?”

She glanced at him quickly and saw the question in his eyes. “You mean my stepfather? No, no. Leave it be, Devlin. Please?”

But icicles of disgust and outrage curdled in his veins.

The son then. He knew it. He knew it to be the truth. But he would not press her tonight.

She had gathered up the candle and Peaches and was turning as though to return to her chamber.

He slipped on his waistcoat, snuffed out his own candle, and set it on a table nearby. Then, without giving her any warning, swooped her and Peaches into his arms.

One slender arm reached up to grasp him around the neck. The other one held fast to her dog. “I can walk, you know,” she said before tucking her head into his neck, “but I like this better.”

Devlin chuckled as he carried her through the familiar corridor. “Of course you can,” he said. “But I like this better, too.”

He turned into the stairwell and adjusted her weight slightly. She was a tiny little thing, but these back stairs were steep.

“Did you know your aunt commissioned a portrait of Peaches?” Sophia said out of nowhere. “Despite everything, your family has been awfully kind to me. Her grace, I think, truly wants me to feel at home.”

Dev was not surprised. His father would not have stayed at Prescott House if good will was lacking. It was never a matter of his family not loving one another. Loving one another too much, perhaps. They would protect one another, regardless of who might get hurt. Such an unquestioning loyalty was not always for the best, he knew. They did not always consider the well-being of outsiders when it came to their actions. Nor did they always consider matters such as right and wrong, due process, and lawfulness.

“Her grace is a good person. Their hearts are in the right place,” he conceded, “if not their heads.” He did not wish to criticize his family to her, but he also knew that she was somewhat confused by it all. “If you’d known the true circumstances, would you have accepted Harold’s proposal?”

She thought for a moment or two. Devlin reached the floor where Sophia’s chamber was located and turned sideways to exit the stairwell with her. She tucked her feet down so they could pass through more easily.

“Honestly, before I knew you, I cannot say that I would not. But… I did meet you, and, well, that’s changed everything.”

He grinned over at her and then placed a quick kiss upon her lips. No one would see them. The halls were lit by one tiny candle, and it was close to two in the morning.

When he got to her chamber, he raised his brows questioningly. “Your maid?”

“Has left me for the evening. She believes I am sharing a romantic night with my husband.”

Hmm… this could be advantageous for the two of them. He opened the door and carried her through to her bed.

“Are you still confused?”

She hesitated only a moment before answering. “No, I rather think I see the truth of it.”

He did not want her suffering belated attacks of guilt. “And that is?”

“Your family and my parents have manipulated circumstances so as to each achieve their own ends — without my consent or knowledge. Your family has done so to provide protection for Harold, and mine for financial security.”

“And so, it is quite understandable that you might feel justified in rebelling against such deviousness.” He would have her be certain of these facts.

“I suppose.” She scooted across the bed and placed Peaches on a blanket at the foot.

“Are you sleepy?” he asked her. “Or still hungry?”

“I am still hungry,” she said, “but I’ve no wish to awaken a maid.” She would have continued, but he raised one finger to her lips.

“Then do not awaken one,” he said. “I have personal knowledge of where the cook keeps rations for just such an occasion.” Devlin held up a hand, indicating for her to stay put. “I shall return shortly, my lady.”

* * *

Sophia tucked her feet beneath her, rather than lock the door behind him as her first instinct demanded. She was safe here. She seemed to be safe whenever Devlin was near.

Perhaps they could talk. She was finally getting some answers.

It wasn’t long before he returned with a tray of various fruits, breads, and cheeses. He’d also discovered an opened bottle of wine. As he entered the room, he shrugged. “If your maid believes your husband is sharing your chamber with you, we might as well provide her with evidence to that effect.”

“That looks delicious.” Opening a small blanket, she set out what was like a picnic on her bed. “You are going to join me, are you not?”

His answer was to remove his shoes and climb up next to where Peaches sat. “You are always telling me that we do not know each other. This is our opportunity to remedy that. Now, what sort of activities did you and Harold participate in before you became engaged?”

Sophia reached for the knife and cut off a slice of melon. “Well…” she said as she held it out to him.

He reached forward and took it from her with his teeth.

“…um…” It took her a moment to regain her train of thought. “…we danced at various balls. We, well, he took me for a ride in the park.” This was more difficult than she would have thought. What had they done together? “We, er, discussed the weather at great length.” A self-mocking smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “And his affection for me… Yes, we discussed that on numerous occasions.”

Devlin held up his hand and began checking off points. “You and I have danced,” another finger, “I’ve taken you for a ride in my curricle, and I believe, I’ve given you some indication as to my affection for you.” But then he frowned. “I know what our problem is. You and I have not discussed the weather.”

“Oh, but we have,” she joked. “In the park, the rain, we discussed the weather then.”

He swallowed his bite and looked over at her. “So, there, you see, we are acquainted well enough.”

“My dearest friend, Cecily, Lady Kensington now…” Sophia paused.

Dev waited. He was a good listener.

“…Cecily married the earl after what seemed to have been a loving courtship. He was the opposite of your cousin. But after she married, she learned he’d been even more of a liar and deceiver than Harold. The entire relationship, for him, had merely been a charade to get his hands on her dowry. I guess that I thought, with Lord Harold being so quiet and undemanding, that he was more likely to be sincere.”

Dev reached out and pressed a strawberry to her lips.

Sofia opened her mouth and took a bite of the sweet juicy fruit. The rather simple action suddenly felt far more than intimate than simply taking a bite of food. She knew he watched her. And he had a hungry look in his eyes.

The juice squirted onto her lips and down her chin. Dev’s hand still held the fruit, and his thumb reached out to slide some of the juice along her lips. Her breath caught momentarily.

“So, how do we ever know anybody, Sophia?” He asked the question sincerely, as though it was something he’d pondered himself on occasion.

“We’ve had this discussion before,” she said. “Remember? By perhaps knowing ourselves better?”

“And by having good friends, finding people who prove that they can be trusted,” he reminded her.

“You have done so much for me already. You have saved me from a lion, braved an icy thunderstorm, helped me to escape from the gate tonight, and now you are here. And yet, I am most certain that there are dozens of women who would cause you far less complications. I must ask this, Dev. I’m tired of misapprehensions. Why?” She needed to know.

He stared at his lap and then back up at her. “There isn’t an explanation, to be perfectly honest.” He gathered the bread and the plates and moved them all from the bed. “I would hold you while we have this discussion,” he explained as she watched him.

And then he climbed back onto the bed, wrapped his arms around her, and lay them down together, her back against his chest. “Since I met you, I have felt something. I thought it would pass, but then I had to see you again. And when I did, it was still there, only stronger. Each time since then, that feeling has spun a web around me, connecting me to you somehow. It would feel unnatural, wrong even, to walk away from this… from you.”

Sophia twisted around to consider his expression.

He looked so serious, so sincere.

She lifted her lips to his.

He kissed her back tenderly, gently.

But what of the future?

“What is your plan? Dev? How do you and Harold intend to void this marriage if an annulment is not possible?”

This — to be held in Devlin Brookes’ arms, to discover the truth about everything – was what she needed. She would be kept in the dark no longer.

“As children,” he began, settling into this mood, “Harold, Lucas, and I spent hours playing together. We were together nearly as much as if we were all brothers.”

“Your father raised you on his own?” She’d remembered hearing that Dev’s mother had died in childbirth.

“Yes, with assistance from my aunt and uncle.” He looked at her sideways. “Anyway, Priory Point, where all of us are traveling tomorrow, is on the sea. It is built on high cliffs with the moors rolling out behind it. And, as boys, the moors were much less interesting to us than the cliffs.”

Of course, they were!

“And so,” he continued, “against my father’s and uncle’s direct orders, we climbed every cliff possible and explored each nook and cranny. We were quite satisfied with ourselves, I’ll have you know, when we discovered an intricate system of tunnels and caves.”

“I imagine her grace worried endlessly.”

“Most likely.” He chuckled. “Some of the caves had been used by smugglers at some point. I think my uncle may have even received a few shipments through some of them in order to keep his cellars filled. But there was this one cave, almost completely vertical. I don’t think my uncle or my father ever knew of its existence.

“It was not visible from the beaches below. When I climbed down through it, though, I discovered a pool with a hidden tunnel that exited into a lagoon below the cliffs. The lagoon was treacherous — rough when the tide came in but swimmable when the tide was low. We never let on to anyone else about it. We knew we would be banned from the cliffs altogether if anyone were to discover our antics.”

“What sort of antics are you referring to?” As a woman, thinking of small boys exploring such a dangerous site, she was horrified.

“At high tide, we dove into the lagoon and would then swim through the tunnel to the cave, which we climbed up and out of.”

“You, Harold, and Lord St. John?”

“Yes, and another boy, but he moved away long ago.”

“And what, pray tell, does this have to do with unmarrying Harold and myself?” She was almost afraid to ask.

She felt Devlin take a deep breath. “Harold is going to fake his death.”