Ryker blinked as the door shut in his face. Not very many people got the best of him like that. She hadn’t allowed him to get a word in edgewise. Actually, that wasn’t true. He’d been stunned into silence by her touch, the honesty of her words.

The feel of that glorious backside pressed up against him.

Bloody hell, the smell of her. He’d caught the scent last night. Honey and cloves with a hint of a deeper musk. But pressed up against him, it had been divine.

She was trouble. A little red-haired hellion who didn’t have any regard for convention or safety.

She was also sweet, honest, and forthright. Generous in her affection. Kind to a fault. She’d make an excellent mother.

A man could do far worse.

He closed his eyes remembering the feel of her. He could do so much worse. He thought of his eventual need to join society in order to find a wife. An heir was required of him. It made him shudder to think of it. He liked being alone, preferred solitude and order. Which was part of the reason he hadn’t sought a match.

And his one other attempt at courting had failed miserably.

And while he’d intended to put marriage off, it would be difficult to find another woman of Tricia’s caliber. In addition, he wouldn’t have to go through the nonsense of participating in a season.

He ignored the voice within him that said it was more than a matter of merits. There was a part of him that liked the chaos she brought, the excitement, the emotion that was inserted into his predictable world.

No, this would be a business transaction. He’d tried and failed at love once, thinking that his affection was returned. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. If he did this at all, he would gain a wife that would pleasurably provide him with children and in return…what would Tricia want?

But he knew the answer. He would provide her with all the funds she would need to start charity programs of her choosing. Allow her the ability to do the work she wanted while still having a family of her own. It was a beneficial arrangement for both of them.

Provided she agreed to stop wandering the streets of London at night. That simply wouldn’t do.

The carriage pulled into his drive. He’d consider it tonight and have Mr. Hart find out her identity. It would be an easy task, considering he already knew her cousin, the orphanage her sister owned, and the address at which she resided.

Then he could make his decision.

With that in mind, he took the steps into him home two at a time. Striding through the door, the butler bowed. “Your Grace,” he murmured.

Ryker gave him a nod and continued up the stairs. Some sleep was in order. Tomorrow would be a full day.

Ryker rose early, and prepared himself in the usual fashion. It was the same routine every day. He penned a note to Mr. Hart, requesting his presence that afternoon. Not only did he want to discuss Tricia but they had their original matter to resolve. Mr. Hart had delivered the thief he’d caught last night to the Bow Street runners. It had likely been a long night and he wanted the man to get some rest.

There was still a great deal of work to be done, because while they had caught the man who had been stealing from Ryker’s ships, he was surely a hired thief, working for someone else.

The question was who? Ryker delivered English goods all over the world. But recently he’d been shipping jewels for the Prince Regent himself. He suspected they were for a mistress, which accounted for the secrecy, but how had the thief known the exact ships on which the jewels had been? While he’d recovered the necklace last night, the bracelet had been lost the night before and ear bobbles the week before that.

Someone who knew the inner workings of his business was behind this.

He did best puzzling over these matters when he moved, and so he took himself out for a walk. The day was dreary but he didn’t mind. He’d stop for a cup of tea if he needed to warm himself.

After several blocks, he did exactly that. Stepping into a shop, he caught the scent of cloves and tea, laced with honey. It smelled divine and though he’d tried to keep his thoughts on the espionage at foot, he was immediately reminded of his red-haired troublemaker.

He grinned but then sobered. He wondered briefly if it was a bad idea after all to take her as a wife. She was invading his thoughts in a most disconcerting way. But perhaps once he’d bedded her he could be more rationale?

And then they could go about the business of a productive, mutually beneficial marriage.

But his thoughts were interrupted. Just ahead of him, about to sit was a woman with red auburn curls. Loose wisps formed about her head like a halo and while he couldn’t see her face, he’d recognize that hair anywhere. She turned slightly to speak with the man she was with and it confirmed that it was, indeed, his Tricia.

The man replied and then placed his hand at her back, his lips subtly brushing her temple. He was tall and broad with dark hair and a muscular build. Jealousy ripped through Ryker. Followed quickly by anger. She’d lied when she’d said she was innocent.

And he’d been a fool to ever think of taking her to wife. She’d been prowling about the streets at night, of course she wasn’t innocent. But he’d believed her. This is why he kept to himself.

He stormed up behind the couple, an anger he rarely felt coursing through him. He didn’t stop to examine the emotion. He did not get upset when business deals fell through and that was what this was, wasn’t it?

But as he reached the couple, his voice growled out, “Tricia.”

She turned her head toward him, surprise lighting her face. He had a moment of triumph that he’d caught her and exposed her lie when a bell rang in his head. Something was wrong. The nose, the mouth, the shape of the chin…

“How do you know my sister?” the woman demanded. “Who are you that you’d use her given name?”

And then she came about to stand before him. The man she was with turned as well and that was when Ryker realized her figure was far fuller than Tricia’s. He wondered if she might be with child.

“Your Grace?” The man’s voice pulled his eyes away as he stared, horrified, at the face so like Tricia’s but clearly different. He’d done it now, announced his relationship with her to her family. It’s a good thing he’d been considering marriage. Because this would bring a great many questions.

“Sussex?” his strangled voice ripped from his throat as several details clicked into place. Tricia’s sister was the Countess of Sussex, daughter to the Duke of Waverly. Tricia was the second daughter to the duke, who, even Ryker knew, had fallen ill.

He also knew that Sussex had been considered a blackguard until marriage when a little red-headed wallflower had tamed the beast. At least that’s what the men at his gentlemen’s club claimed. He hadn’t cared a wit. In fact, having several joint business ventures with the man, he’d enjoyed Sussex’s new attentiveness to his business at their joint venture meetings through the club. He didn’t socialize with the men outside of those meetings, preferring to keep them professional.

But now, the stories about Sussex all made so much more sense. Of course, it was Tricia’s sister that had brought an errant rake to his knees.

“Your Grace?” the countess repeated. “Well, Your Grace,” he heard her slippered foot stomp on the floor as she drew out his title. “You have yet to answer my question.”

Her face was set in rigid lines, her shoulders straight as she assessed him with a gaze that would have withered a lesser man.

He could almost have laughed, if it were at all appropriate. He found Tabbie’s demands for answers rather endearing actually, they reminded him of Tricia and her unfailing desire to put herself out for her family members. “Tricia said you were the more tenacious of the two of you. I suppose I didn’t believe her but it stands to reason I should have. Though she is troublesome, she doesn’t seem to be prone to exaggeration.”

“Troublesome?” the countess repeated, her voice rising. “I suggest you start explaining.”

“Tabbie,” Sussex’s gentle voice soothed his wife. “I’m sure His Grace has a perfectly good explanation.”

Tabbie turned to her husband and Ryker watched as they exchanged a look that spoke more than any he had ever witnessed. Love, trust, understanding passed between the couple as Luke reached for her gloved hand, grasping it in his own. “I’ve worked alongside His Grace for years and have always known him to be a man of honor. He is far more trustworthy than I ever was.”

Tabbie cleared her throat. “I apologize if I implied you were not trustworthy, Your Grace. But it has been a trying time for my family and I am worried about my sister.”

“As well you should—” he started but a hand at his arm stopped him.

“Ryker?” Tricia’s voice sent a tingle of excitement racing down his spine. He turned to see her standing next to him, her hand resting on his arm. Another young woman stood just behind her, her face etched in surprise. He could only assume this was her companion. Without thought, he tucked Tricia’s gloved fingers into his elbow.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He quirked an eyebrow then. “I might ask you the same.”

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re speaking with my sister.”

“I’m aware,” he whispered back. “I mistook her for you.”

“Oh.” Her eyes grew positively huge in her face and he wanted to laugh again. Something about her forthright emotions brought out a joy in him he hadn’t experienced in years. Not since the death of his father and his debauched attempt to court Lady Amelia Hart. He reined himself back in. Emotion had little to do with why he wished to court her. At least, he told himself that. Emotion was how he’d gotten hurt all those years ago.

“Tricia,” her sister’s voice bit into the moment, and Ryker glanced up to assess Tabbie again. She was indeed bolder than his rather more demure, Tricia. Not that Tricia lacked for bravery, he knew that wasn’t true. Tricia was the healer in her family, he could see that now. She put the needs of others before her own. It was a trait he found himself appreciating more the longer he knew her.

“Yes?” Tricia replied innocently, and Ryker had to bite back another smile. Tabbie was demanding answers no one seemed willing to give.

“I want to know—” Tabbie started.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, not here.” Tricia leaned toward her sister. “Get your pasties and then we will return to your townhouse.”

“But we were on our way to Mother and Father’s.” Tabbie seemed momentarily stunned.

Tricia took an audible breath. “If you could just give me a few minutes to explain, then we can go.” She reached for her sister’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Ryker could see her softening for her sister. He couldn’t help but note her kindness yet again. “I can only assume you’d prefer answers now and I left early this morning, despite being up rather late, to give them to you in the privacy of your home. If you want to go to see Father now, I’ll understand. But you’ll have to wait until we can be alone again for me to explain.”

Sussex gave an understanding smile. “I’ve learned, darling, to always listen to a Riley lady when she requests an audience.”

Ryker felt his own eyebrows rising. Had Luke been as powerless to resist Tabbie as he seemed to be with Tricia?

With a curt nod, Tabbie stepped up to the counter and ordered a variety of pasties. Then turning back, she huffed. “I was going to bring them with me.”

“You still can. We’ll be quick.” She squeezed her sister’s hand again.

“We?” Tabbie quirked a brow, looking to the woman who had accompanied Tricia. “You mean you and Miss Walters?”

Tricia turned back to look at the woman just behind her. He had been right and the woman with her was her companion, Miss Walters. “Of course I didn’t.” Tricia looked up to him then. Some feeling rumbled deep in his gut. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to claim her as his own. Reminding himself that this was a potential business transaction like any other, he tried to push the feeling away. “Though you don’t have to come if you don’t want. Can you give me the name of the sanitarium? I’ve yet to receive your missive.”

“Sanitarium?” Tabbie croaked.

But Luke was smiling again and he leaned over to Ryker. “They do get themselves into a bit of trouble. But it’s completely worth it. Marriage has never been more entertaining.”

Ryker’s eyebrows rose again. How had Luke known he was considering marriage?

* * *

Tricia walked next to Ryker, his presence having the same effect on her that it always did. It was soothing her, calming her all the while filling her with a fluttering of nerves that made her itch to touch him.

Something was different today. He was less irritated with her presence, more open. Hadn’t he immediately tucked her hand in his arm? Spoken with her family as though it were completely natural? They were supposed to keep their identities secret. Though, to be fair, his still was. At least to her.

Besides, it did no good to think this way. He was handsome, likely titled. He’d never want her. And she already had a perfectly suitable plan. She ignored the tiny protest in her own mind that declared suitable absolutely dreadful.

They quickly reached Tabbie and Luke’s townhouse, which was just around the corner from the shop. Ushering them into a sitting room, Luke gave his famously rakish smile. “Welcome to our home, Your Grace.”

Tabbie felt as though she’d been socked in the gut. Your Grace? Of course, it made sense. His demand to remain anonymous, his bossy nature, as though used to men following his orders. The opulence of his carriage. But what was a duke doing down at the docklands?

Her eyes round, she looked at him and he gave his head a subtle shake, warning her not to let on that she hadn’t known he was a duke.

She gave a curt nod to show her understanding and clamped her lips closed.

Luke helped Tabbie sit on a settee and Miss Waters was sent to the kitchens as Tricia and Ryker settled across from them. As Tabbie fussed to get comfortable and Luke intently helped her, Tricia leaned over and whispered, “Your Grace, you are the Duke of…?”

“Landon,” he whispered back.

“Enough whispering,” Tabbie called. “I am anxious to see our father, so I’ll beg you to begin.”

Tricia gave a nod and launched into her story of how she ended up at the docklands searching for Fenton.

She tried to lighten it as best she could but she could see Tabbie grow paler with each passing sentence until she was gripping Luke’s hand with a white-knuckle hold that actually looked painful.

“We were very fortunate you were there.” Luke spoke through gritted teeth. Tricia wasn’t certain if he disapproved of her actions or Tabbie’s grip was causing him to clench so.

Tabbie was less diplomatic. “What were you thinking?”

Tricia bristled to match her sister’s irritation. “I was thinking that you would have done the same and I needed to be as strong as you.”

“The docklands?” Tabbie turned to Luke. “Tell her never to do that again.”

“Never do that again.” Luke responded without hesitation. “Tricia, your wellbeing, not to mention your reputation… Not even Tabbie would have—”

“Yes, she would.” Tricia stood then, crossing her arms. “I’ve been dragged along more times than I can count. Besides, you don’t know what it’s been like. I’ve been watching them both die.” The words choked out of her mouth. It was true. Her father had been dying due to the consumption but Fenton to vices. He had always been handsome, charming, and talented. Being older than her she’d looked up to him. When his parents passed, he visited less and less, a sadness about him. She’d tried to get him to confide in her but she was younger and he swore he wouldn’t burden her. She wished she’d pushed harder, maybe he wouldn’t have fallen into such darkness.

Ryker stood too, his hand grasping hers. “You’ve been very brave,” he murmured as his thumb stroked the back of her hand. His eyes were intent upon her and instead of the cold assessment they usually gave, this one was full of understanding, acceptance. It made her warm inside.

“Thank you,” she replied, turning back to her sister. “You’ll be happy to know, His Grace—”

“Call me, Ryker.”

She looked back at him, the same warmth in his gaze. “Ryker took over the search and was far more successful than I. He found Fenton and has delivered him to a sanitarium. The next question will be what to do with him after so that he doesn’t slip away again.”

Luke cleared his throat. “I can help him with that. I’ve several friends who can help an earl in need. Lord Coventry has turned many men around.”

Ryker nodded. “You’re right. He’s just the fellow.”

Relief washed over Tricia. To know in this time of uncertainty one of the men she loved might be saved made her feel so much better. “Thank you,” she breathed, giving Ryker’s hand one last squeeze before he slipped hers out of his grip. Now it was time to do the best they could for the other ailing man in their life. “Tabbie, are you ready to see Father now?”