It had been two days since Amelia had seen Coventry, although his mother had come to visit each afternoon since. She and Lady Everly had continued to tutor Amelia and Juliette in a variety of things from proper table manners to how one ought to greet an acquaintance in the street. Having insisted numerous times that Gabriella had already given them such lessons and failing, Amelia had resigned herself to their instruction. By the time Wednesday rolled around, she regretted telling Mr. Lowell that she would be busy until the end of the week, and when she finally woke up on Thursday, she’d been thrilled with the idea of doing something besides walking in a straight line with a stack of books upon her head.

“Ladies,” Mr. Lowell said when he and Mr. Burton, who’d been invited to join them, arrived at two o’clock that afternoon. “It feels like an eternity since I saw you last.”

“He has lamented over the fact since Tuesday evening when I saw him at our club,” Burton said. He reached for Amelia’s hand first and then Juliette’s, kissing the air above their knuckles. “And I must confess I share his opinion.”

Their charm was undeniable. Juliette certainly seemed to appreciate it while Lady Everly praised both gentlemen for their kindness. But Amelia couldn’t seem to feel anything but apathy toward them. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, because she definitely did. But after discovering what passion felt like—what it meant to want a man with a desperation that bordered on insanity—she just wasn’t as excited about the prospect of being courted by anyone other than Coventry.

Still, she was intent on enjoying her day since it did offer an enticing escape. She would also accept Mr. Lowell’s and Mr. Burton’s company in the future. Both men would probably be prepared to offer her a comfortable life while Coventry had no plan to do any such thing, in which case her desire for him would be utterly pointless as it would remain unexplored.

“Was it very difficult for you, growing up in St. Giles?” Mr. Burton asked her while they strolled along a path in Kew Gardens later. “I imagine it must have been.”

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” Amelia told him. “No child should have to endure it.”

“Could you not have chosen to live somewhere else?” Mr. Lowell asked. He was escorting Juliette while Lady Everly brought up the rear at a respectable distance.

“We couldn’t afford anything else,” Amelia told him, making an effort to keep a level tone. She had to remind herself that the circumstances she’d faced with her siblings would be so foreign to these men it would be all but impossible for them to relate.

“But your parents were gentry.” Mr. Lowell glanced across at her with a curious frown. “Are you saying they left nothing for you to inherit? Not even a penny?”

“Yes.” She’d no desire to elaborate on how awful it had been to discover her father’s body and to later realize why he’d taken his own life. “Shall we visit the Chinese pagoda? If the view from the top is as remarkable as I imagine it to be, I’d like a chance to see it.”

“It makes you feel as though you’re on top of the world,” Mr. Burton said as they started heading toward it. After climbing a long flight of stairs, they stepped out onto a platform with a railing from which they could see far and wide. “Look,” he added, pointing toward the horizon. “There is London in the distance.”

“I see it,” Amelia said. She stared out over the landscape below. Out there, in that cluster of minuscule buildings, was Coventry. She couldn’t help but wonder what he might be doing—what sort of responsibility kept him so busy he had no time for her until the following week.

“I have not been able to stop myself from wondering about what you have been busying yourself with these past few days,” Mr. Lowell said. He’d come to stand beside her. Juliette stood on Amelia’s other side, between her and Mr. Burton. Mr. Lowell leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “The truth is you have captivated my awareness so acutely I can hardly concentrate on anything else.”

She should at the very least have felt a faint flutter in her chest. Had it been Coventry who’d spoken such words, her heart would have pounded. But with Mr. Lowell, as attentive and charming as he was, she felt absolutely nothing. The same could be said of Mr. Burton or any other man who wasn’t him—the center of her own private imaginings.

“You flatter me,” she told Mr. Lowell politely since he deserved nothing less than respect. “The fact is I have purchased a building on the edge of St. Giles—the old house at the end of High Street. My intention is to bring it back to life and turn it into a school for the less fortunate children in the area.”

Mr. Lowell’s eyes widened. His lips parted as though he wished to say something but couldn’t quite think of the right words.

Mr. Burton came to his rescue. “What a marvelous idea,” he said. “The City could do with some quality education for the lower classes.”

“I appreciate you saying so,” Amelia told him with genuine feeling. “It won’t be easy, but I think the reward will be worth it.”

“Your expense must be quite significant,” Mr. Lowell said once he’d gotten over his initial shock.

Amelia nodded. “More so than I would have imagined.”

“You’re doing an incredible thing, though,” Juliette said, offering her support. “I just hope I’ll be able to leave an equally significant mark on the world one day.”

A significant mark on the world. A legacy.

Amelia hadn’t thought of it in those terms before, but she supposed it would be if everything worked out according to plan. “I intend to fund it with charitable fund-raising events and donations. It’s the only chance I have of ensuring costs get covered since I’ve no plan to charge the students.”

“Well then,” Mr. Burton said. He met her gaze with that pleasant smile of his. “Allow me to offer five hundred pounds to your cause.”

“Consider that one thousand with my five hundred added to it,” Mr. Lowell said with a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.

Amelia could scarcely believe what they’d said. Her lungs expanded on a rush of air as she stared at each of them in turn. “Gentlemen, you are far too generous.”

They chuckled while taking a last look at the view. “Indeed, we are more than happy to help,” Mr. Burton muttered.

He drew her aside when they made their way back to the carriage after enjoying a few refreshments down by the lake. “May I invite you for a walk in the park tomorrow, my lady?”

With no other plans and the certainty that Mr. Burton would prove a better distraction from her yearning for Coventry than remaining at home with her sister and Lady Everly was likely to do, Amelia agreed to the outing without hesitation. She was quickly rewarded with a happy grin in return. It didn’t do much to her insides, but it did make her feel wanted in a way that Coventry had not yet managed to do.

Three days. That was how long it had been since he’d last seen her.

“So I will inform Mr. Stevenson that you would like to invest another thousand pounds in his work on the Stockton and Darlington railway?” Thomas’s secretary, Mr. Bryant, said. He made a note on a piece of paper.

Thomas nodded. “Yes.” It would likely be years before the route would be ready since opposition was hampering the progress. Already, the bill presented to parliament requesting the rail pass through the Earl of Eldon’s estate and one of the Earl of Darlington’s fox coverts had been defeated by thirteen votes. A new bill would be presented soon with the hope that Viscount Barrington might be more agreeable. Until then, Thomas intended to continue supporting the venture since Mr. Stevenson’s invention of the steam locomotive had already proved the man’s ability to accomplish his goals.

“Will there be anything else?” Mr. Bryant asked.

“Not today. Thank you.” Thomas waited for Mr. Bryant to leave the room and close the door behind him. He then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Three days.

Christ. He’d hardly slept at all. Doing so had been almost impossible when he continued to be assailed by images of Lady Amelia. Even now he envisioned her face, that laughing smile and those sparkling eyes framed by long dark lashes. When she was happy, that was.

But he now knew what she looked like when she was angry, as well. He had no regrets about being the cause of such impassioned emotion. How could he be when her fury had only served to enhance her beauty? Since seeing her thus, he’d discovered new aspects to her—a persistence unlike any he’d ever encountered before. She would not be held back by any means, and yet, he sensed the confidence with which she attacked this project of hers was hiding a different kind of insecurity—the sort that made her feel unworthy of her position.

Pondering this, he wondered if she realized how wrong she was to concern herself about that. Granted, there were people who took pleasure in being unnecessarily cruel and who would not readily accept her because of her background. But her beauty and kindness and her vivacious approach to life in general was such that Thomas had to admit she was without a doubt the most stunning woman he’d ever encountered.

With that thought came another, of her lying naked on his bed with her hair spread out around her in silky waves of chestnut perfection. He imagined a welcoming smile and that same seductive look she’d given him on Tuesday when they’d visited the house together. Curling his fingers against the armrest of his chair, he gripped the wood and imagined his hands caressing her body. Would she sigh or whimper or moan? He’d no idea and never would since such a fantasy could not be brought to life. Not unless he married her. Which he wouldn’t.

Damn!

Perhaps a new mistress would have to be sought after all. He hadn’t had one in years. Not since Jeremy’s birth. And he really didn’t look forward to the idea of sating his needs with a random woman who’d want to be dressed in silks and jewels in return. The thought disagreed with him. Especially since he knew he’d be imagining her—his desire for her was so intense he found himself in a constant state of irritation. Which his mother was not taking kindly to in the least. She’d left the house twice now because of some cutting remarks he’d made, for which he’d had to apologize to no end, which only made him all the more irritable. And so the cycle continued.

Expelling a breath, he got to his feet and marched across the floor. Jeremy had proven to be an excellent distraction. The boy had asked if he might take a closer look at one of the carriages, to which Thomas had readily agreed. Showing him how the vehicle worked had been fun. They’d had some lemonade together afterward, and for the very first time, Thomas had felt a connection. He’d since enjoyed teaching Jeremy basic sums and helping him with his penmanship. It was slow progress, but not as impossible as those awful governesses had made it seem.

But now that Jeremy was taking his nap and Thomas had completed his work with his secretary, his mind was once again assailed by unwelcome thoughts—thoughts that would lead to nothing but unfulfilled need and desire.

Deciding some fresh air would be the solution, he snatched his hat from the hallway, put on his gloves and went to the mews to collect his horse. He had no patience to wait for a groom to bring it around with the thought of Lady Amelia stirring his blood in a frantic way that tensed his muscles and hastened his pace.

Ten minutes later, he was riding toward Hyde Park and feeling not even a tiny bit better. How the devil had she managed it? She was stuck in his brain in a way that made him want to curse the day he’d agreed to look out for her during Huntley’s absence. Everything had been fine up until that point. He’d made polite conversation with her the few times their paths had crossed, and that had been that. Now, she’d made him aware though—aware of her glorious figure, of her impressive ability to overcome anything she set her mind to, of a daring side that might not have served her well when she’d chosen to go to St. Giles on her own, but which would certainly be welcomed in the bedroom.

Damn it. There he went again.

Muttering another curse, he turned into the park and began making his way along Rotten Row. At least it was a beautiful day with scarcely a cloud in the sky. The air was pleasantly warm without being too hot, most likely because of a gentle breeze that occasionally rustled the leaves in the trees.

Thomas tipped his hat in greeting to a few acquaintances as he rode past them, not stopping to speak with any of them. He simply wasn’t in the mood for inane conversation. In fact . . . A woman dressed in a dark pink gown and with a pretty straw bonnet perched upon a head of chestnut curls caught his attention. Even though she had her back to him, he was certain of who she was. Lady Amelia. And she was out strolling with a gentleman who appeared to be paying a great deal of attention to whatever it was she was saying.

Gripping the reins, Thomas fought the unpleasant wave of displeasure that rose inside him. He’d never been a jealous man—had had no reason to be—and yet what he felt now, this urge to get off his horse and shove Lady Amelia’s companion aside so he could take his place, could not be described as anything else. It made him want to punch something, his muscles already flexing beneath his jacket in preparation for such a possibility. But somewhere in his brain where a small degree of sanity still survived, he knew he had to calm himself in order to avoid the scandal a violent outburst would incite.

Perhaps obtaining a mistress was not the right approach. Perhaps what he really needed was to fight someone. He hadn’t boxed since Huntley’s departure. The two of them always sparred together, and with him gone, Thomas had not been back to Gentleman Jackson’s. If he could find someone willing enough to give as good as he got, it might work wonders for his state of mind. It was certainly something worth looking into.

In the meantime . . .

Nudging his horse forward, he trotted over to where Lady Amelia was walking. She and her companion looked up, and he saw now that it was Mr. Burton. The man was looking annoyingly satisfied with himself while she appeared to be very pleased with his company. Still, the wide smile she gave Thomas when he dismounted in front of her could not be denied. It was for him and him alone. His heart immediately doubled in size. Some of the tension left his shoulders, and he relaxed a little. Getting rid of Mr. Burton would probably make it disappear altogether, he thought wryly, tipping his hat in greeting to both of them.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

Mr. Burton did not look too eager but had no chance to deny him his company since Lady Amelia immediately said, “Of course. I’d be delighted to hear what you’ve been doing since the last time I saw you.”

Fantasizing about you in the most scandalous ways possible.

They started walking, with him leading his horse by the reins. “I have been looking into some laborers for . . .” He glanced across at Mr. Burton before saying, “Something I am working on.”

“Is it for the school?” she asked. “Mr. Burton is well aware of the project and has even donated five hundred pounds toward it. So has Mr. Lowell, by the way. They’ve both been extremely magnanimous.”

Gritting his teeth, Thomas tried to look pleased. “Indeed.”

“I have the funds and decided they would be put to better use if they went toward a school than if they continued to sit in the bank,” Mr. Burton said with a jolly grin that Thomas instantly detested.

He would not lower himself to telling the man that five hundred pounds was nothing compared to his own two thousand five hundred. Instead, he swallowed that bit of information and focused on Lady Amelia.

“I also attended a couple of sessions in parliament, took care of some necessary correspondence and met with my secretary. My property in Cornwall is in need of a few repairs, and after the housekeeper chose to get herself married to a sea captain, I have had to look into acquiring someone new for the position.”

Squinting against the sunlight that caught her eyes, she angled her head in order to catch his gaze. “So you’ve been just as busy as you said you would be.”

“Yes.” They walked a few more paces. “And you?”

She turned her head in order to look straight ahead, preventing him from seeing her face as fully because of her bonnet. “Your mother and Lady Everly have been busy ensuring that Juliette and I were not bored.”

“Mama did say something about developing your cultural acumen. I believe a few operas and plays were mentioned.”

Lady Amelia sighed. “I’ve been reciting Shakespeare with a pile of books on my head.”

“You cannot be serious,” Mr. Burton said with no attempt at hiding his shock.

Thomas, on the other hand, was finding it hard not to laugh at the image he had of her doing such a ridiculous thing. He pressed his lips together when she confirmed that it was indeed true.

“Apparently, I have a tendency to slouch when I am distracted. This was meant to be a lesson in avoiding such a terrible transgression.”

Thomas couldn’t help himself. He laughed, but since his mouth was still closed, the sound had nowhere to go except out his nose, which it did with a snort. “I am sorry,” he muttered, “I regret that I missed it.”

Lady Amelia’s head swiveled toward him, allowing him to see the flush of pink that colored her cheeks and the slight embarrassment painting her eyes. “I’m not.” She immediately averted her gaze once more. “It was a trying experience, but at least it was somewhat relieved by the pleasant excursion we had yesterday to Kew Gardens.”

“Oh?”

“Mr. Lowell and Mr. Burton escorted my sister and I.”

Thomas bristled. So she’d spent an entire afternoon with these men whose interest in her had been most apparent when he’d seen them fawning over her earlier in the week. The idea did not sit well with him in the least, though it ought to do so since both would be excellent matches for her. Still . . . Mr. Burton’s presence and that adoring way in which he kept looking at her just grated.

“How good of them,” he muttered.

“Lady Everly was there, as well,” Mr. Burton said. “As chaperone.”

“And where is her ladyship now?” Thomas asked. Perhaps he ought to have a word with her about accompanying Lady Amelia about when she went on walks with a gentleman. All things considered, they couldn’t be too careful when it came to her reputation, no matter how respectable Mr. Burton might be or how appropriate it was for a young lady to walk with a gentleman unescorted when out in public.

“She is at home,” Lady Amelia said, and Thomas noted that the statement was slightly clipped.

He decided to drop the matter for now in favor of addressing Mr. Burton. “So tell me, sir, how is your farm doing these days?”

The question achieved its purpose by getting Mr. Burton to launch into a long explanation about sheep and agriculture, preventing Thomas from having to say another word for the remainder of the walk, which in turn allowed him to simply enjoy Lady Amelia’s closeness. There was also the added benefit that she might realize how dull a life with Mr. Burton would be, and thus refrain from showing any further interest in the man.

“Well,” Mr. Burton said when they arrived at the entrance to Hyde Park. He turned an expectant gaze on Lady Amelia before glancing briefly at Thomas.

Lady Amelia smiled. She, too, looked at Thomas as if expecting him to take his leave. He refused, looking back at them instead as if he couldn’t imagine what they might be thinking.

Eventually, Mr. Burton asked, “Shall I escort you back to Huntley House, my lady?”

“No need,” Thomas said before she could manage a response. Mr. Burton’s eyes widened. A frown appeared on his forehead, and then he took a hasty step back.

Whatever he’d seen in Thomas’s expression, it had prompted him to retreat, which he did with an elegant bow and a quick, “Very well then.” He tipped his hat toward Lady Amelia. “It has been a pleasure. I shall look forward to our next encounter.” His eyes met Thomas’s once more, and all joy seemed to drain from his face. “Good day, Your Grace.”

“Good day, Mr. Burton.”

And then he was gone, hurrying away as though he couldn’t escape their company fast enough. Thomas turned to Lady Amelia and found her glaring at him. “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” he asked as innocently as he could manage.

She planted her hands on her hips in a stance that did not look very ladylike at all. Her features hardened, and she was suddenly as foreboding as the fiery vision she’d presented twice before when she’d been angry with him. Just as on those previous occasions, he found the experience incredibly arousing and could only hope to God she wouldn’t notice the state he was suddenly in because of her fiery gaze.

“Do not pretend innocence, Coventry. You have been antagonistic toward Mr. Burton since the moment you chose to join us for a private walk to which you were not invited.”

“You didn’t tell me to go away.”

“Of course not. I was happy to see you.”

The admittance burned straight through him. She was happy to see him. Warmth fanned out in the confines of his chest. “So then?”

“But you obviously have an issue with him, in which case you probably should have considered avoiding us or riding off again after a brief greeting. Instead, you ruined what was actually a perfectly nice walk.”

Sighing, he determined to make an attempt at an apology. “I am sorry. That was not my intention. But you cannot possibly be enamored with him, in which case—”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because he talks about nothing but sheep!”

She actually stomped her foot in response to that remark. “Only because you encouraged him to do so. Until you arrived, we were actually having a riveting discussion about hothouse roses.”

He couldn’t help but stop for a second. “You have an interest in that?”

“No. Of course not. He brought me a bouquet, and my enthusiasm with it sort of led to the subject in a roundabout way.”

Noting that her anger had dissipated a little, he decided to take advantage. “Come,” he said, offering her his arm. “I will escort you home.”

She stared at him for a long second, then sighed as though expelling all of the hardships of the world with one single breath. Her hand slipped into place, and the two of them started forward, crossing Piccadilly and following one of the paths through Green Park toward the Huntley House garden gate.

“I’ve missed you, you know,” she said after a while.

The comment completely threw him. “Really?” He couldn’t help but glance at her. She was biting her lip in a way that made him want to sink his own teeth into that plump piece of flesh. Would she welcome such a wicked advance? Or would she protest and insist upon gentler caresses?

The wondering was going to see him committed in Bedlam.

“Not the arguing,” she went on, “but the company. Mr. Lowell and Mr. Burton are both pleasant enough. I’m sure marrying either of them would result in a comfortable life. But . . .”

Her voice faded into the background, drowned out by his mind’s fixation with that one sentence. It would mean that one of those men would have the right to bed her, that one of them would see her naked, have the privilege of touching her in the most intimate of ways possible, of bringing her pleasure, and worse—of having her bring them pleasure. Such a notion was not to be borne. It clawed at his brain and turned his blood to thick and sluggish gunk that made his entire body feel heavy with disgust.

“Coventry?”

He started at the urgent sound of her voice. “Hmm?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

Shaking his head, he tried to focus on her pretty features in the hope that doing so would banish the unsettling thoughts he’d just been having. “Forgive me, but I must have gotten distracted.”

“By what?”

“A political issue,” he lied, hoping such a subject would make her relent. To be certain of it, he followed it with a question of his own. “You were saying?”

“Nothing much besides how I enjoy your company.” He now wished he’d paid better attention. “We might not always agree on everything, but I find that I rather like that.”

“You do?” That he had not expected.

She shrugged. “There’s something to be said for complete and utter honesty. It means I can appreciate your compliments more because I know you’re saying what you truly think as opposed to what you’re expected to say. In other words, you would never tell me I look lovely unless you actually believed it.”

He couldn’t help but smile in response to her observation. “That is true. And since we are on the subject, you do look incredibly fetching today. Your hair is especially enticing.”

“My hair?”

He had not meant to go quite that far, but since he had . . . “It is sometimes more riotous, but today the curls have settled in exactly the right way.” When she blushed, he felt compelled to add, “I would be tempted to touch it if such a gesture were allowed.”

Surprise sprang to life in her eyes, and he wondered if perhaps he’d revealed too much. But this concern was quickly forgotten beneath the thick haze of lust that followed when she quietly whispered, “Oh yes,” for it bore with it not one but two revelations, the first one being that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The second was that he now sensed how she might respond when she came apart in his arms, and that alone was enough to jar his senses back to the proper time and place.

He’d started a dangerous game now—one from which he’d be wise to retreat unless he wanted to acquire a wife. Which he really didn’t. His life was complicated enough without having to deal with a marriage, as well. Not to mention that Lady Amelia was the sort of woman who would want to be included in his affairs. He would have to explain things to her. Which was something he simply couldn’t imagine doing, because what if she failed to understand? What if she failed to forgive him for lying? It wasn’t a risk he was prepared to take. No matter what. Because if she failed to understand . . . if she failed to safeguard his secrets . . . His heart drummed an unsteady beat at the thought of such a thing coming to pass.

Taking her in, her now pondering gaze, he knew he ought to be able to trust her. After all, her loyalty toward her siblings was undeniable. But this wasn’t just about him. It was about protecting his sister’s reputation even in death and about safeguarding Jeremy’s future. So he would have to forgo the temptation she offered and throw a few punches instead.

“Will you tell me how your meeting went with the laborers?” she now asked. The passionate gaze with which she’d assessed him moments earlier had retreated, banked by a look of pure practicality.

“It went well. I found one of the offers particularly interesting because of the terms.” There was no denying her curiosity as he spoke. Her attention was now riveted on this new subject pertaining to the school. “They have agreed to a fixed fee as long as we buy all the materials ourselves, which should reduce the cost of labor while allowing us to negotiate with every supplier.”

“I like that idea.” She grew pensive for the next few paces, and he saw that they had almost reached her garden gate. “Are you still very busy?”

Not really.

“Yes.” He forced a more serious expression. “There are still a few things I must see to tomorrow and perhaps even on Saturday.”

“But you will come and collect me on Monday so we can visit the glazier?”

Being a man of his word and not liking the worry that spilled from her eyes, he deliberately put aside the concerns he had about keeping her company so often. Circumstance could not prevent it. Not when he’d now become her partner in this endeavor she was undertaking. He wasn’t precisely sure how that had happened, though his need to see her succeed so he wouldn’t get murdered by Huntley no doubt had something to do with it. It was the reason he’d offered to cover the costs and the reason he was now helping her procure the necessary people required to fix the house in a satisfying manner. That, and the fact that he had to keep an eye on her for his own peace of mind.

“Yes,” he told her simply. “I will come and collect you on Monday morning at ten. We will make a day of it since I would also like to take you out to visit one of the lumber mills and stone masonries outside London.”

“Oh. How fascinating!”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Do you know, I don’t believe I can think of another lady who would find it so.”

“Perhaps because they have no use for the products such places supply. But I do. Which is why I cannot think of anything else I would rather do than shop for flooring.” She gave him a wry smile. “I am fully invested in seeing this through to the end.”

“I know you are.” It was one of the things he admired about her, though he chose not to say so. Instead, he bid her a good day and waited until she was safely inside her garden with the gate securely closed behind her before mounting his horse and heading toward his club. From there he would continue on home before making his way to the Black Swan Inn. He’d visited the place, which sat in the pit of St. Giles, a few times with Huntley when they’d been looking for something a bit tougher than what Gentleman Jackson’s was willing to allow.

The experience had been an exhilarating one. It had given Thomas the chance to shed his aristocratic shackles and to deny proper etiquette and protocol while engaging in a brutal fight that had served to exorcise his demons, if only for a moment.

There, in the Black Swan courtyard, with sweat soaking his shirt, his title hadn’t mattered. He’d been his opponent’s equal, and he’d taken a beating he now longed to experience again, if only to banish the lust that Lady Amelia provoked.

Tightening his grip on the reins, he directed his horse to St. James Street with strict self-censorship. He really had to pull himself together and stop thinking about her. Which of course, was much easier said than done.