Leaving the solicitor’s office, Rex and Jacob wore matching grins.

“I can’t believe you looked at Mr. Winthrop and said, in all sincerity, ‘We’ll take two.’ As though coal mines were scones or pasties.”

Rex chuckled. “Mark my words. Listen to Theo and by the time you are five and twenty, you’ll be able to say the same.”

It was approaching noon and the streets were far busier then when they’d entered. Maids bustled about running errands while gentleman and lords made their way to their respective clubs to begin their days.

“I hope so,” Jacob said, sidestepping a woman with a large basket. “I still can’t believe our fortunes will change. The past year has been…”

Rex stopped hearing the boy. Up ahead he caught sight of dirty blond hair and an overly tight pair of pantaloons. By the back of the man, he’d swear that he was looking at Lord Winston Rathemore.

He jammed his forefinger and thumb into his eyes. He couldn’t happen upon the man now, not when he was intent upon tearing the bastard apart. But sure enough, the figure ahead turned into a doorway and he caught sight of the man’s profile. It was that bloody excuse for a man.

Blood rushed in his ears. “Jacob, head home. I’ll join you shortly,” Rex mumbled, his eyes on the door into which Rathemore had just disappeared. His entire body clenched for the confrontation that was about to follow.

“What? Why? We have chores to do.” Jacob tugged on his arm. “Is something wrong? You look ready to fight a battle.”

He relaxed the muscles of his face. “Everything is fine. I’ll hire a hack and join you shortly.”

Jacob’s forehead creased but he gave a tight nod of consent as he continued on to the stable they’d housed the carriage.

As soon as the boy had disappeared, Rex headed for the door that Rathemore had entered. His fingers itched with unused tension he’d like to release on Rathemore’s face. The corners of his mouth turned up, it was a public club. How perfect.

Entering into a darkened hall, he made his way to the lounge where several men were already seated in overstuffed chairs, drinks in hand.

He spotted Rathemore making himself comfortable in the corner. Without wasting any time, he made his way over to the man.

“Rathemore,” he said by way of greeting.

The other man looked up at him in surprise. “Casterly? Is that you, old chap? I haven’t seen you in five years at least.” He gave Rex a jovial grin. “I thought you died of malaria on that island it’s been so long. What brings you back to London?”

Rex grimaced. He was ashamed to note just how familiar he’d once been with this waste of a man. “I’ve been well and island life has suited me.” Had he just used the past tense?

“Glad to hear it. Are you back for good?” Rathemore asked as he stood. “I could use a partner in crime. My last fell prey to the marriage noose.”

A rumble of anger erupted from deep in his chest. “But you haven’t been caught, have you?”

Rathemore chuckled, seeming not to notice Rex’s irritation. “Gads no. I’m too smart for that. I target women in unfortunate circumstances.” He stepped closer, dropping his voice low. “Ones that don’t have a family that can force a match.” Rathemore’s gaze fixed on the ceiling above. “I nearly plucked a delightful little flower recently. If she hadn’t had an attack of conscience I am sure she would have been sweet indeed.”

Rex’s hands clenched at his sides. If the little flower Rathemore referred to was actually Rex’s flower then Rathemore was about to pay for his transgression with the skin on his face. “Little flower? Do tell.”

Rathemore licked his lips. A disgusting display that made Rex’s teeth clench. “I started courting the older sister. A ruse to bed her, of course. But the younger one…” His voice dropped so low, Rex had to lean in. “Lady Daffodil. She is perfection. I should rekindle our relationship, see if I can’t pick the fruit so to—“

Rex did not allow the filthy scum to utter another syllable. Quick as a snake he raised a fist and planted a jab directly in Rathemore’s hawkish nose. Blood instantly spurted from the nostrils streaming down his chin as his head snapped back. The moment he straightened, giving Rex a bleary-eyed stare, Rex hit him again, harder.

Dropping like a stone, Rathemore curled into the fetal position. He saw men standing up out of their chairs, a few approaching to see what was happening and he knew he didn’t have much time. He gave Rathemore a swift kick in the back and then bent down over him. “Stay away from Lady Daffodil, you bloody bastard.”

Then, straightening his cravat, he turned toward the exit just as two other gentleman had arrived. “What is the meaning of this?” the older of the two asked. Rex didn’t answer, his blood still thrumming through his veins, as he headed for the door.

Daffodil hunched over the oven assessing the piece of wood she’d placed in its belly. Was it coals? Would she burn the leg of lamb that Rex had purchased for them to eat?

Straightening, she turned toward the kitchen door as it creaked open. “Jacob.” She gave her brother a wide smile. “Is this ready for the meat?” She pointed into the oven.

Jacob bent down scrunching his face as he studied the wood. “Looks perfect to me.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Today is the day I cook meat without setting it ablaze.”

“Good for you, Petal.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ve got to go change and start on the hay. Tell Rex where I am as soon as he returns.”

“Returns? He isn’t with you?” She grabbed the lamb and stuffed it into the oven. Then closing the door, she turned back to her brother.

“No, and I’m not sure why.” Jacob shrugged. “One minute we were discussing the meeting and the next he told me to come home without him.”

Daffodil looked at the oven. Was it too soon to check it? “I’m sure he simply remembered another errand he needed to do.”

“He promised to help me with the hay,” Jacob’s face twisted as his mouth turned down.

“He will, don’t worry. Go change, and I’ll fix some lunch for you before you head out to work.” She turned to start prepping the plate. When had both she and her brother grown so accustomed to having Rex about? She rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. He had ridden in like a medieval knight. He’d waved sides of meat rather than a sword, she supposed, but to her and her brother he’d been a savior.

Of course, he also confused her terribly. He was the exact sort of temptation she’d been attempting to avoid but she’d have to work harder at it for Jacob’s sake.

Jacob returned and devoured his lunch, then raced out to the barn. He’d no more left when the door creaked again. “Did you forget something?” she called as she bent over the oven to check the lamb. It was beginning to brown and nothing was even smoking.

“Put another log on now, it’s ready,” a much deeper voice rumbled behind her.

Her entire body began to tingle. Rex. It would be so much easier to control herself if she didn’t react this way. “Thank you.” She straightened but he was already holding out a log to her. She started to take it when she noticed his knuckles. “You’re bleeding!”

“No love, it’s not my blood.” He reached around her to toss in the log. His face came into her peripheral view and she turned toward him. His expression was set in hard lines.

“Rex. What’s the matter?” Worry made her straighten. As he closed the lower door to the oven, she took his hand in hers. “What happened?”

He didn’t say a word as she pulled him toward the pump and filled a fresh bucket of water to wash off the blood. She noted the blood was at least partially his. He had several scrapes along his knuckles. She was about to repeat her question when a knock sounded at the door. “What is going on today?” she huffed as she went to answer it.

Wrenching the door open, she was surprised to see one of her old friends, Lady Grace Winthrop, standing at the door. “Grace?”

Grace twisted her gloved hands together. “Daffodil, you look…well.” The woman’s eyes ran up and down her as she frowned.

Daffodil resisted the urge to smooth her skirt. She was dressed in working clothes that didn’t befit a lady. She wasn’t exactly proud of her circumstances, but she wouldn’t be ashamed of them either. Straightening, she plastered a cheerful expression on her face. “As do you.” She hadn’t seen Grace since her family’s finances no longer allowed her to participate in social activities. “What brings you here?”

“May I come in?” Grace asked, peering into the kitchen. “I rang the front bell, but no one answered.”

Daffodil inwardly winced. Her outfit was a miniscule infraction compared with the man in Daffodil’s kitchen. But as she glanced behind her, Rex was gone. Perhaps he’d gone to change into his work clothes to help Jacob? “Of course.” Daffodil stepped back and motioned for Grace to step in.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit, I—”

Daffodil waved her off. She understood and the explanation would only be more painful. “Please don’t worry. What brings you here today?”

Grace began twisting her hands together once again. “My father and brother were meeting a friend of the family at a public club.” Grace stopped, chewing on her lip. “While there, they witnessed an altercation.”

Daffodil’s insides began to churn as she glanced over at the bucket of water currently stained with blood. “Altercation?”

Grace nodded. “They didn’t recognize one of the men but the other was Lord Rathemore. I know he showed interest in Violette. While they were fighting—” Grace stopped again, her eyes growing huge.

“What is it?” Daffodil’s own hands rested on her stomach, pressing to keep the rolling waves from overtaking her.

Grace stepped closer. “Your name was mentioned in connection with Lord Rathemore.”

She lifted one of her hands from her stomach to cover her mouth. Her blood chilled in her veins. “No.” Once word spread, no man would have her. She’d be ruined, and what if this affected Violette as well? Her sister—her family—would never forgive her.

Grace’s hands flitted to her skirts. “What will you do?”

Daffodil closed her eyes. Did it matter? “Nothing.” She opened them again, forcing her lips into a smile. “My sister is marrying His Grace, The Duke of Waverly.” She reached for Grace’s hand. It had been exceptionally nice of Grace to warn her. She no longer read any of the gossip columns, it might have been weeks before she’d realized. What if she’d gone out in public unprepared? “I’m sure he’ll be able to help me.”

Grace nodded, her eyes cast to the side. “Oh, that is good news.”

She knew as well as Daffodil that any match the duke could buy would be inferior. If he would help her at all.

Daffodil was well and truly ruined.