Elliott Walker, the Earl of Aberland, gave a sigh of relief as the hansom cab drew to a halt before his Mayfair residence. He paused after alighting, his gaze taking in the impressive entrance with its white fluted pillars and marble steps that he was fortunate enough to call home.

Each trip abroad made him more grateful to return to the peace he found within its walls. His secret position with the British Intelligence Office forced him to travel far more than he preferred.

This last visit to the Continent had been especially trying, causing him to question how much longer he wanted to continue. Playing the role of scoundrel to gather intelligence had become exhausting, and he was weary to the bone.

For the moment, he intended to put all his questions and doubts aside and enjoy time at home. The house was filled with pleasant memories, but even better, his beloved grandmother resided here. He smiled in anticipation of seeing her.

The door opened and two liveried footmen hurried out, greeting him with a bow before tending to his luggage.

Codwell, his longtime butler, waited by the door, smiling broadly as Elliott walked up the steps. “Welcome home, my lord.”

“Thank you, Codwell. I trust all has been well in my absence?”

“Indeed.”

If it weren’t for his special training and natural instincts, Elliott might have missed the hesitancy in Codwell’s manner. His thoughts flew to his grandmother. “Is all well with the countess?”

“Yes. She is most anxious to see you.”

Guilt speared through Elliott. He’d been gone nearly four weeks, leaving his grandmother alone. He had the utmost faith in Codwell and the rest of the staff to keep watch over her safety, but she needed more than that. “I hope she’s enjoying the beginning of the Season.”

“Actually, I’d venture to say she’s reveling in it.”

“Oh?” Elliott stepped into the foyer, glancing about as though he might spot what caused his unease. Codwell’s words sank in, returning his focus to the older man who’d been with his family since he was a young boy. “Reveling, you say?”

That wasn’t like his grandmother. While she normally enjoyed attending a few events, he wouldn’t have described her participation in previous years as “reveling.”

The butler cleared his throat, shifting away his gaze briefly. “We have a new addition to the household.”

“Who would that be?” Anger slid into Elliott, tightening his chest. Codwell knew a few details of Elliott’s double life, so he understood why this news would not be welcome.

“With your long absence, your uncle feared the countess might be lonely, so he hired a companion for her, a Miss Sophia Markham.”

The footmen entered with his bags, forcing Elliott to wait to have his questions answered. And he had many. While he detested the idea of his grandmother being lonely, he equally detested the idea of a stranger living in his house.

He imagined a nosy, elderly spinster who refused to mind her own business. The idea of the sanctuary of his home breached by a stranger was impossible. He took care to hide his activities from the staff, with the exception of the butler and his grandmother, but he had no desire to evade another set of watchful eyes.

No. It simply wasn’t bearable.

The butler turned to direct the footmen to take care with his belongings, and Elliott opened the door of his library only to stop short, startled to find a woman there, perusing the bookshelves. His bookshelves.

As though feeling the weight of his regard, the young lady turned to face him, her eyes widening in surprise. Lovely hazel eyes set in an attractive face. But none of that mattered. She was in his library, the one place he depended on as his refuge.

“My lord, may I introduce Miss Sophia Markham, your grandmother’s new companion?” Codwell asked.

No, you may not. He bit his tongue to keep the words from slipping out, yet he saw nothing but complications when he looked at this woman.

Where was the elderly spinster who would be better suited for his grandmother? This young lady was the very opposite of what he’d expected. Dark curls framed her face, as though refusing to be tamed. Her alabaster skin begged to be touched, and one dark brow rose, as if already questioning him.

“Good day.” He knew his tone was churlish and less than polite but couldn’t seem to help himself.

She opened her mouth to respond then quickly closed it, instead dipping into a low curtsy. “My lord.”

The surprise in her expression at his presence gave him a small measure of satisfaction. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one feeling off balance.

He scowled. Why did she have to be so lovely? He would’ve much preferred the aging spinster he’d imagined.

She rose from her graceful curtsy in her plain grey gown and clasped her hands before her. “I’m terribly sorry to intrude in your library.” Did she have the ability to read minds? “I was searching for a new book to read to the countess.”

A likely story. His gaze swung toward his desk. But of course the polished mahogany was empty except for his grandfather’s gold clock on its gleaming surface. He hadn’t left any clues for an inquisitive guest to find, nor had any arrived in his absence.

The idea of having to guard against a nosy stranger who made herself at home in his library made him even wearier. He couldn’t do it. Not only did his grandmother reside in his house, he spent a significant amount of time with her when he was home. That meant he’d be in contact with this young lady frequently. Far too frequently.

But before he did anything rash, such as send her packing, he would speak with his grandmother. If this woman was here at his uncle’s behest, surely his grandmother wouldn’t miss her company. Elliott would be rid of her in no time.

“I hope you found something of interest,” he said at last.

She turned to pluck a slim leather-bound volume from a shelf. “This will do until the books we ordered arrive.”

“What books would those be?” He was curious as to what his grandmother had been up to in his absence.

“The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens and The Seven Curses of London by James Greenwood.” She lifted her chin, as though expecting him to question the choices. “Have you read either?”

“I can’t say I have. The Seven Curses?”

“I understand the author shares the seven worst problems plaguing the city.”

While his grandmother often read fiction, since when had she become interested in social issues? He’d obviously been gone far too long.

Miss Markham pursed her lips. “Perhaps you might enjoy learning more about such problems.”

He sighed at the hint of disapproval in her expression. His reputation had preceded him. While he knew he should be pleased his cover as a philandering rogue was secure, he’d grown weary of it.

“I shall rely on your report of it.” He gave his signature careless smile as he moved closer, which only had her tightening her lips further.

Her unfavorable opinion of him could prove useful. Perhaps getting rid of her would be easier than he expected.

Sophia hardly knew what to think, and she certainly didn’t know what to say. She felt as though she’d been caught rifling through the earl’s personal things from the accusing way he stared at her.

The only reason she’d taken the position of companion to the Countess of Aberland was because the earl was rarely home. And because she liked her ladyship—adored her, actually. Though occasionally gruff, the woman had a kind heart, a keen intelligence, and a no-nonsense manner Sophia admired.

The earl was a different kettle of fish altogether. The date of his return had been uncertain, but it wasn’t today. She hadn’t had the proper time to prepare herself to meet the notorious scoundrel.

Her cousin, Daphne Fairchild, had warned her of the earl’s reputation as a rogue, far more interested in chasing ladies on foreign shores than here in London. What she hadn’t mentioned was how handsome he was.

He shared his grandmother’s unique green eyes, the shade reminding her of a jade Buddha she’d seen in a museum when she was a child. They glowed with an internal light that made one look twice. Dark hair swept across his brow, and even darker brows arched over those intense eyes. His strong jawline with a hint of shadow from his beard caused the oddest sensation in her stomach, almost making her breathless.

Or perhaps that was caused by the way he stared at her, as though she were a puzzle he had yet to solve.

But that was nonsense. She was an open book with no secrets to hide. Besides, she held doubts he’d read a book since his university days. Scoundrels didn’t often read, did they? In truth, she’d never before met one. Her father, who died when she was only six years, didn’t count. She barely remembered him.

With a firm reprimand, she brought her thoughts back to the task at hand. She’d promised herself that when she met the earl, she would make it clear she was no one with whom to be trifled and he should set his roguish sights elsewhere. Not that a woman such as herself, raised in the country, headed for spinsterhood and dressed in half-mourning, would be to his tastes, but Aunt Margaret always told her that opportunity created desire.

“I’m terribly sorry to be in your way.” She glanced at Codwell who remained by the door, hoping he’d help with this uncomfortable situation. If she wasn’t mistaken, amusement twinkled in the butler’s blue eyes. Assistance wouldn’t be coming from that quarter.

“I am pleased we had a chance to meet before you leave.” The earl stepped closer, causing her to shift back, only to bump against the shelves.

“Leave?” She could only blink at him, confused.

“Now that I’ve returned, your services will no longer be needed.”

Panic skittered down her spine. “But I’ve only recently started in the position.”

He gave a nod. “Then it should be easy for you to find another.”

She knew her mouth opened and closed like a cod tossed on the river bank, gasping for air, but she couldn’t help it. “I hope the countess will still be in need of my company.”

“We shall see, but I’d suggest you pack your bags, just in case.”

While she’d wondered if the earl would be displeased to find her in his household upon his return, she’d never expected to be dismissed on the spot.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to visit with my grandmother. Perhaps you’d like to remain in your room for a time.”

She swallowed hard, heat filling her cheeks at his dismissal. She hadn’t felt like a servant here until this moment. The countess had treated her with respect and kindness, quite the opposite of her grandson.

Yet she was well aware there was nothing she could do if he chose to let her go.

“Of course.” She curtsied again, her mind blank with shock as she walked from the room, head held high with the book in her hand.

Keeping the outward signs of her worry at bay until she reached her room on the third floor was no easy task. Only once she closed her door behind her did she allow her shoulders to sag and her hands to tremble. She eased into the chair at her desk.

Just when she’d become accustomed to her new position, the earl had returned to threaten her carefully built world.

Sophia had feared what the future might bring when Aunt Margaret passed away unexpectedly six months ago, but then a timely letter from her cousin Daphne had arrived.

They’d met on one of Sophia’s infrequent trips to London when her mother still lived. She and Daphne exchanged letters several times a year since their meeting, and Sophia always looked forward to them.

Sophia’s life had changed drastically upon her father’s death, when she and her mother had gone to live with her aunt. Though a viscount, he’d spent his modest inheritance and her mother’s dowry shortly after their marriage. Aunt Margaret had declared him a carousing rogue, but Sophia’s mother loved him all the same, even after he’d left them penniless and in dire straits with his death.

Aunt Margaret had taken them in, but Sophia’s mother succumbed to illness within two years of her husband’s passing. Sophia had been devastated and still missed her.

Though grateful for Aunt Margaret, life hadn’t been easy with her. Money was tight, and her aunt didn’t believe in wasting time focusing on happiness. Sophia emerged from those years well educated and bearing a healthy dose of common sense and caution.

A letter from Daphne arrived at an opportune time, shortly after her aunt’s funeral. When she’d shared news of her aunt’s passing, Daphne responded immediately, telling her that her mother and father would be happy to provide her with a Season.

Sophia appreciated the offer, but after watching her mother’s heartbreak and listening to her aunt’s many lectures on the subject of men, Sophia had no desire to marry. But what choices did that leave her?

After several more letters, Daphne mentioned the possibility of serving as a companion. That seemed like the perfect solution to Sophia.

The Fairchilds had been kind enough to suggest she stay with them while she searched for a position. Sophia considered it luck that the countess, with whom the Fairchilds were acquainted, needed someone shortly after Sophia’s arrival in London.

Her interview with the countess had gone well, and Sophia had been excited at the prospect of the position.

But now...she feared she was being abandoned by fate once again.

With a shaky sigh, she gathered her wits. The countess had never indicated that Sophia wouldn’t be needed upon the earl’s return. Surely, she would’ve mentioned such an important detail when she offered Sophia the position.

Maybe there was still hope.

But she had no doubt the earl would continue to be a problem. How could she convince him the countess needed her? There had to be something she could do. She feared she’d allowed her natural distaste for a man such as him to show. He represented everything she had been warned against most of her life.

Now she was in the uncomfortable circumstance of needing to not only hide her disapproval but gain his support if she wanted to remain in the position.

But how?