Jane was leading the girls on a constitutional around Clarendon Square on a day that threatened rain when Miss Thorn appeared at last. Alaric was meeting with his London agents, and Her Grace was out visiting friends. Larissa had just passed the door of the town house Jane was still sure belonged to Miss Thorn when the green door opened, and out came her benefactress, Fortune up in her arms. The cat’s grey fur exactly matched the grey of the poplin skirts peeking out from under the lavender redingote.

“There’s Fortune!” Belle cried, and Jane reached out to hang on to her shoulder before the little girl could dart forward.

Miss Thorn didn’t look the least surprised to see them, or the least embarrassed about not having recognized Jane and Alaric’s previous visits. She swept down the steps, feather in her hat bobbing a greeting. Fortune’s little mouth tilted up as if in a smile to Jane.

“Jane, girls,” Miss Thorn acknowledged, acting as if she would pass them.

Jane released Belle and stepped into the employment agency owner’s path. “You have nothing more to say to us? We were worried about you.”

She paused with a tight-lipped smile, hand stroking Fortune’s head. “Sorry to have concerned you, but you indicated that you were pleased with the position. That is still the case, is it not?”

Mystified, Jane nodded. “Yes, I love being a governess.”

“And we love Mrs. Kimble,” Belle piped up.

Right. She had an audience. Larissa was frowning, and Callie had her chin up, as if she were memorizing every word exchanged. Which she probably was. Still, Jane refused to let her former benefactress go until she had some answers.

“You must know disappearing like that would raise questions,” she said. “His Grace and Mr. Mayes are certain they recall meeting you.”

She stilled. “Are they? How inconvenient. Please assure them there is no reason for a duke or a solicitor to remember a tradeswoman.”

“They seem to think you weren’t a tradeswoman then,” Jane said. “Were you associated with them? Is that how you knew the duke needed a governess?”

She waved a hand. “His Grace’s difficulties are common knowledge. Lady Calantha isn’t the only one who listens to what others say.”

Callie dropped her gaze, coloring.

 “I don’t believe you,” Larissa put in. “My father is respected.”

“He’s a duke,” Belle said with a nod, as if that were that.

“That’s enough, girls,” Jane said with a look all around. Then she returned her gaze to Miss Thorn’s. Something flashed in the lavender—regret, fear? No, surely not fear, not the redoubtable Miss Thorn.

“I’m trying to help,” Jane told her. “I don’t like people suspecting you. I don’t much like them suspecting me either.”

She lay a hand on Jane’s arm. “Forgive me, Jane. I had no intention of jeopardizing your position. But you are settled. My efforts now must turn to others who are less fortunate.”

So that was it. She was washing her hands of Jane. Jane ought to feel relieved that no harm had come to the woman, but she couldn’t help feeling like day-old cabbage.

“I see,” she made herself say. “Well, then, I suppose this is goodbye.” She reached out and rubbed Fortune’s head. The cat raised her chin to allow her access to her creamy throat. Jane’s throat was tightening.

“Take good care of your mistress, Fortune. Everyone needs someone who cares about them.”

“Jane,” Miss Thorn started, then her head came up. Jane heard it too. A carriage had entered the square and was coming around the park in the center. She could see the unicorn crest on the side.

Miss Thorn leaned forward. “If you ever need anything, Jane, please let me know. I want only the best for you.” Clutching Fortune close, she hurried across the street and disappeared into the park.

 

~~~

 

Jane wasn’t sure whether Alaric had spotted Miss Thorn until she joined him in the withdrawing room that evening. She and Alaric had taken to playing chess for a time after the girls had been put to bed and Her Grace was out at various soirees and events. The chess set here was of warm wood, the grain smooth in her grip. With the only light from the coals in the hearth and the lamp on the desk, the footman hidden in the shadows, she and Alaric existed inside their own private cocoon for a time, away from demands, expectations.

But apparently not suspicions.

He was standing by the hearth when she entered, hands clasped behind the back of his navy coat. His head was down, as if he were eyeing the fire instead of the portrait over the mantel. In the painting, the ethereally beautiful Evangeline late Duchess of Wey, sat with a golden-haired baby in her arms, her other daughters on either side. Did Alaric’s heart give a painful thump every time he looked at it? Jane’s did. How sad to have left three daughters behind.

But how odd that the late duchess’s portrait was the only one not gracing the walls at Wey Castle.

He turned as she came into the room, inclining his head in a nod. “Jane. Everything ready for us to return to the castle tomorrow?”

Jane nodded, moving for the chessboard on the table along the wall. Unlike its counterpart at the castle, this withdrawing room was more understated, with walls a creamy jade color and few of Her Grace’s ornaments strewn about. The wood-wrapped hearth warmed a camelback sofa patterned in spring leaves with several scroll-back chairs opposite. For some reason, the footman hadn’t taken up his usual spot by the door.

“I’ll have Betsy and Maud put the last things into the trunks tomorrow,” she said, standing beside the chair she occupied when they were playing. “The clothes we ordered for the girls will be sent on as they are finished. It will be good to be home.”

Even as she said the words, she started. Home. Since running away from Berkshire to be wed, she’d never truly had a home. Now the castle was her place. She felt a smile forming.

His smile did not answer it. “Anything else of import?”

Jane shrugged. “No. We won’t resume lessons until we reach the castle.”

He picked up a poker and stirred the coals in the hearth. “No last-minute visits?”

Oh. Jane straightened. “I almost forgot. I saw Miss Thorn today.”

He refused to look at her. “Did you?”

“Yes. She was just coming out of that house down the square when the girls and I were passing. She’s fine, and so is Fortune.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Did she have any explanation for her disappearance?”

Jane shook her head. “Not a good one. She said I was placed. She had work to do elsewhere.”

He set the poker aside. “That cannot explain her refusal to see us.”

“I agree. But the lady didn’t offer another.”

“And you?” he asked, meeting her gaze at last. “Have you another to offer?”

 

~~~

 

Alaric waited, a part of himself fearing to hear what she would confess. He’d ordered the footman to other duties so he could talk to Jane alone. He hadn’t wanted to believe his eyes when he’d seen her and Miss Thorn standing on the street, conversing as if nothing untoward had happened. Then, one look at his carriage, and the so-called employment agency owner had bolted yet again. How could he keep fighting against the evidence before him?

Jane merely shrugged. “Well, she’s not too keen on you or Mr. Mayes.”

That was no answer either. “And why would that be?” he asked, moving closer to the chessboard.

Jane sighed. “If you have something against Miss Thorn, let’s just hear it. I find the whole thing confusing.”

“As do I,” he assured her as he reached her side. “I have no proof that she is anything other than what she claims. But I don’t like mysteries.”

She cocked her head. “You don’t like believing what you can’t touch, you can’t see or hear. Faith, like love, isn’t like that. You must remember with your wife.”

“I never claimed to love my wife.” He wasn’t sure why he was confiding that now, but it seemed important that she understand. “We tolerated each other, but some days I’m not sure we were even friends.”

Her face puckered as she straightened. “I’m sorry to hear that. I always knew Jimmy loved me, even if he loved the cavalry as much. She was a demanding mistress, and, in the end, she killed him, but I don’t blame her. Life for him was the saddle.” Tears gleamed like stars in the dark of her eyes.

“And life for Evangeline was her daughters,” he murmured. “She’d be pleased to see how you care for them.”

She dropped her gaze. “I’m not so sure about that.”

He put his finger under her chin and tipped her gaze up to meet his. “I am.”

She was staring at him as if she didn’t know him. At the moment, he wasn’t sure he knew himself. Want and need collided against honor and duty, and he didn’t know which would win until he lowered his head and kissed her.

She tasted like honey, thick and rich, and he wanted to go on tasting her until he drowned in the touch. Every part of him felt alive for the first time. This was what a marriage was meant to be.

A noise made him raise his head. Jane’s eyes were closed, her cheeks pink, her lips full.

But Larissa stood in the doorway, eyes wide and startled. He must have made a movement toward her, for she bolted like a frightened deer.

And he knew he had a lot of explaining to do, to her, to Jane, and most of all to himself.

 

~~~

 

Jane blinked, feeling as if the world had suddenly shifted under her, or perhaps she had suddenly shifted into another world.

Alaric had kissed her.

She’d been kissed before. Like everything in his life, Jimmy’s kisses had been spontaneous, enthusiastic, rather like the attentions of an overgrown puppy. This kiss had been deeper, more powerful, as if she’d jumped feet first into the warm waters of the Mediterranean. She could scarcely think, only feel. She reached up, touched his cheek, wanting only to continue this closeness.

Yet, from out of the depths of her bemusement, she noticed he was staring beyond her. Dropping her hand, she glanced back, but saw no one. Still, she had enough of her wits about her to make sense of his reaction.

“We were seen.”

He nodded, cheeks pinking. “By Larissa.”

Worse and worse. The girl didn’t like Jane as a governess. She would be inconsolable if she thought Jane was even closer to her father.

“Well, at least it wasn’t Callie,” she joked, “or she’d have reported it to half the staff by now.”

He grimaced, stepping back from her. “Forgive me, Mrs. Kimball. I have no idea what came over me.”

But was just as determined as ever to retreat before betraying himself further.

“I could make this easy for you,” she said. “Tell you it was all my fault, tender my resignation. But you kissed me. I suspect we need to talk about it.”

He ran his hand back through his hair, even as he moved to distance himself from her. “I have no excuse for my behavior, save one. I allowed my admiration of you to overcome good sense. It will not happen again.”

Of course not. Loving Jane Kimball, wanting Jane Kimball, made no sense in his world. A cavalry officer’s widow, a governess, would never be good enough to act as his duchess. And she certainly wouldn’t allow a different kind of relationship. Colonel Travers may have had other thoughts, but she was not the sort to give herself outside marriage. She knew the value of commitment, of partnership. And she’d have no recourse legally otherwise.

“Quite right,” she said. “You’re not the kind of master to take advantage of the staff, and I’m not the kind of governess to allow it. I suspect the best we can do is go on as if it hadn’t happened.”

He did not look comforted. “You forget. Larissa saw us.”

Jane sighed. “Yes, of course. I doubt an explanation from me would help. And I don’t know what I’d even say.”

He started for the door. “I’ll speak to her. Return to your duties, Jane, and rest assured I won’t trouble you further.”

For once in her life, she had no answer. She watched him stride out the door, as if determined to flee from what they felt for each other. Perhaps it was for the best. She’d never been one to hide from emotion. She was more likely to embrace it, encourage it, see how far it would take her. She would never make a good wife for a man so controlled, duke or not.

And yet, that control had slipped. Over the last six weeks, she’d watched him grow closer to his daughters, involving himself more in their lives, encouraging and supporting them. He wasn’t completely cold, unreachable. He just needed an excuse to talk, to touch.

To kiss.

Yes, she could have made it easy. She could have encouraged him into her bed. But she wanted more. She wanted all of him, a friend, a lover, a husband.

Anything less would never satisfy. It was all or nothing, and it very much looked as if the answer was nothing.