Martha finished packing her lone valise and looked around the room she’d occupied the past few days. She’d already left a small gratuity with Mrs. Browning, along with her thanks.

How strange that the chamber felt familiar and comfortable. It wasn’t Sedgebrook she would miss. It was him. Jordan of the letters. The arrogant man who’d touched her heart so easily.

It was time.

She hadn’t known him before arriving. Perhaps she’d been curious about him from reading his letters, but that’s all it was. It certainly wasn’t fascination. Making love to him was only because of that same curiosity: she’d wanted to know what passion was like.

What a terrible series of lies she’d just told herself.

Moving to the window, she stared out at the lake. Would she ever feel the same about another man as she did Jordan? Probably not. Never again would she allow herself to feel as much. Never again would she be as free as she’d been that day only three days ago when they’d first arrived at Sedgebrook. Never again would she look at a man the way she’d looked at him, with her breath tight and her pulse racing and tears too close to the surface.

She was standing in a sunbeam. That was the only reason her entire body felt warm.

From here she could see a tiny corner of the boathouse. She wouldn’t go and say good-bye. She’d already done that last night.

Their carriage was being readied. She’d been told they’d leave within the hour.

She looked down at her dark blue traveling dress, wishing she had something else to wear. But it was a choice between this and the loathsome lavender and she couldn’t bear to wear that garment one more day.

She’d already helped Amy prepare her grandmother and watched as the footmen devised a chairlift to help Gran down the stairs.

Once at the bottom of the grand staircase she greeted her sister with a nod, ignoring Josephine’s almost proprietary glance around Sedgebrook. Almost as if she was saying: This is all mine and in a few weeks I’ll come back and claim it.

Martha was more than ready to go home; she was almost desperate to reach Griffin House. She knew herself there. There were no secrets being revealed just when she least expected them. She would not be challenged by a handsome man who also touched her heart and made her dream of things that could never happen.

In the past three days he’d revealed himself to be truly Jordan of the letters. A man who’d so captivated her heart it hurt to think of leaving him. Especially knowing that when she saw him next he’d be her sister’s husband.

“You didn’t see His Grace,” Gran said.

“You should have said a proper farewell,” Josephine offered, pulling on her gloves.

“I’m sorry,” Martha said to her grandmother. She was not going to address Josephine. Nor did she offer that she and Jordan had seen each other last night. The time in the moonlit garden was hers, not to be discussed with anyone else.

“When will the carriage be ready?” Josephine asked.

“Only a few minutes from now,” her grandmother said.

She turned away when the two of them began discussing plans they would make as soon as they reached Griffin House. She didn’t want to hear about the wedding preparations. She didn’t even want to think of the coming ceremony.

The journey home would be miserable. Being around Josephine was uncomfortable especially since she wanted to shout at her sister, demand an explanation even as she knew nothing could explain away the viciousness of Josephine’s actions.

Every mile they traveled away from Sedgebrook, she would feel worse. She hadn’t known him long enough to yearn for him. She didn’t know him well enough to feel this kind of grief. Yet it felt as if she had. Five years of letters, sometimes two a week, had given her an insight into the man, probably more than he wanted.

He’d been her friend, too, although he’d never known it. She and her father had talked about him often, wondering what he’d think about a certain modification to their design. She’d marveled at his instant understanding of complex concepts.

At least she had copies of her father’s notes. She’d already replicated his vessel, calling her ship the Goldfish. She hadn’t given up trying to understand the final test that had so overjoyed her father.

She would do that—finish her father’s work independent of Jordan Hamilton. Yet in a way, working each day on the same project would make her feel close to him.

The carriage was brought around and she waited until Josephine and Gran had settled before she entered the vehicle.

She studiously ignored Josephine, which was difficult since her sister hadn’t stopped prattling about the wedding arrangements.

She pressed her hand to her waist. Would anything happen from that night? Was she going to have a child? She almost wished she would, and wasn’t that a shocking thought?

Would it be enough to stop this hideous wedding?

Jordan stood at the head of the twin staircases leading to Sedgebrook’s iron front door.

The York carriage had been brought around to the front. He’d instructed Mrs. Browning to lead Susan York through the small corridor to the exterior door beneath one of the stairs. The passage wasn’t often used, but today it would eliminate the need for the older woman to have to descend one of the staircases.

The younger York women were already there. Josephine glanced up at him and smiled. Martha didn’t turn.

Shortly, the carriage would make its way toward the main road. From his vantage point he’d be able to see them for nearly a quarter hour, at least until they made a left turn, dipping behind the strip of trees bordering the front of his property.

Martha still didn’t turn.

Leaning heavily on his walking stick, he watched as they entered the carriage.

From now on he would take better care of himself. He wouldn’t overdo, at least not until he healed a little more. He would take frequent breaks since he’d no longer have a boathouse companion he wanted to impress.

His damn leg was a constant reminder of not only his limitation but his failings. He had flaws and frailties and wasn’t the paragon he should have been. He wasn’t anything like his father or Simon, for example.

Nor as charming at Reese.

In a few days Jordan would write a note to Mrs. York, expressing his hopes that the journey had been easy and she’d regained her health. That would be the polite thing to do even though they both knew she hadn’t been all that ill. He’d have Mrs. Browning send along a batch of the biscuits the older woman had liked.

Martha said she would write him from time to time. He would let her know if her suggestions worked. He could change the hydrostatic valve and adjust the pendulum and test it out.

He’d known her for only a matter of days. There was no reason to feel this sudden sense of loss, as if he’d miss her.

He would be wiser to leave now and get back to the boathouse.

Only an idiot would stand here until her carriage was out of sight.

She was gone.

Three days ago, she’d mounted the steps and stared at him accusingly. What had been her first words to him? Something about him not having any choice about her being there. He couldn’t help but smile at the recollection.

Martha was everything Matthew had said she was: stubborn, opinionated, determined, fiercely loyal, kind, generous, witty, and intelligent.

The next time he saw her, it would be at the wedding. She’d be his sister by marriage.

That thought was enough to sour his mood.

“Interesting women,” Reese said at his side.

“Yes.”

“I never thought you would offer for her,” Reese said.

Jordan’s mind made the adjustment between sisters.

He didn’t want to think about Josephine.

“Was she able to help you?” Reese asked.

Another adjustment back to Martha.

“Yes,” he said. “I think she was. I have to finish the modifications and test them out, but everything she recommended made sense.” He smiled despite himself. “She also recommended I put a leash around the ship so I don’t lose it. I can call it home like a lost puppy.”

“Intelligent woman.”

“Yes,” Jordan said. “She is. Remarkably so. I was able to discuss the problems with my compressor with her and she told me what to do to fix it. She has an affinity with machines I’ve never found in a female. Rarely in a male, for that matter.”

“In other words, she tinkers like you do.”

“She invents,” Jordan corrected. “She attempts. She proposes and dares and postulates.”

“It sounds as if you and Martha are better suited than you and Josephine.”

He had nothing to say in response. What comment would be appropriate? That he was sickened by the thought of marriage to Josephine? That he couldn’t remember a damn thing about two nights ago? Lust and only lust had guaranteed this union, but it was fueled by the elixir, not his wishes. He was damned if he was going to take it every night in order to feel something for his bride.

Maybe she could be convinced to go and visit her mother in Paris for an extended time. She could flaunt her new title as he fixed the roof on the north wing, both of them getting what they’d earned.

What would marriage to Martha have been like? Now that was a surprising question. Why had he even contemplated it? He pushed away the thought, although it was difficult to do so.

“What a pity Martha isn’t as attractive as her sister. I have a feeling she probably won’t marry.” Reese shrugged. “Not that she needs to. Wealthy women don’t need husbands.”

“She’s attractive in her own way,” Jordan said, feeling a surge of unexpected irritation. “Her eyes are warm. Her face is a perfect shape and wonderfully expressive. Her hair is a soft cloud.”

His words faded away. How did he know her hair was soft? He could almost feel it curling around his fingers.

“It sounds like you should have offered for the older sister,” Reese said, and added to the remark by patting Jordan on the shoulder.

He heard the door close as Reese entered Sedgebrook. He stood where he was for too long, well after losing sight of the York carriage.

He couldn’t dismiss the thought—even though he tried—that Reese had just swerved into the truth.