Merry heard a surprised curse from the dark-haired, somewhat rumpled-looking man as he stepped fully into the room and saw who was seated across the desk from his friend.

“Dashed sorry,” the man said with a wince. “I’ll just take myself off, my apologies, madam.”

But the viscount stayed him. “Wait, Vessey,” he said to the intruder. “Come in. You might be able to help me with something.”

As if he suspected his friend of attempting to foist the now sleeping infant off on him, Vessey gingerly entered the room and went to stand beside the desk, like a footman awaiting instructions.

“Mr. Adam Vessey,” said Alex with a gesture to the other man, “this is Miss Merry Parks.”

Vessey gave a slight bow. “Miss Parks, my pleasure.” He was a handsome enough man, though he looked puzzled at the moment.

Turning to Alex, he said in a low voice, “Weren’t you betrothed to a . . . ?” He didn’t finish the question, as if saying her name aloud would suddenly alert her to the fact that he was talking about her. Merry wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Then when he suddenly seemed to add two and two and get seven, his eyes widened and he whipped his head back to stare at the viscount. “Surely this isn’t your . . .” Again, he didn’t complete the thought.

“Yes, Vessey. This is my former betrothed,” Alex said tightly. “And no, this is not my child.”

Vessey’s relief was rather outsized given that the situation had nothing to do with him, but something about his antics set Merry at ease a little. If nothing else, his foolishness took some of Alex’s attention off her for a moment.

“When was the last time you saw my cousin Will?” the viscount asked, getting to the heart of the matter. “I’ve not seen him since I returned from France, and I thought perhaps since you’ve been in town these past months you might have a better notion of where to find him than I would.”

At the mention of Ponsonby, Vessey looked troubled and, after a glance in Merry’s direction, said, “I saw him last week, but I don’t think . . . that is to say, it’s not quite . . . I mean, in front of the lady . . .” He ran a finger between his cravat and neck.

“My dear Mr. Vessey,” Merry said before Alex could intervene. “I am a lady, but I’m hardly unaware of the things gentlemen get up to. And as you can see, Mr. Ponsonby has been quite busy, so I need to find him at once. No matter how scandalous the locale.”

Vessey’s eyes widened more. He opened his mouth, making himself look a bit like a fish.

“Oh, heavens,” Merry hissed in a low voice so as not to wake Lottie. “This is not my child. But it is Mr. Ponsonby’s, so please tell us whatever you know forthwith. I for one should like to see her settled before the New Year.”

Even with Merry’s assurance, Vessey looked to Alex. After his friend nodded as if to give him permission to speak, he said, “When I saw him last week at Brooks’s, Will said he’d been, ah, visiting Mrs. Templeton for a bit. Didn’t say anything about his rooms at the Albany, but I should think he’s kept them. A man needs a break from time to time, you know.”

Merry did not know, but she also did not comment on what Vessey had revealed. “Is this Mrs. Templeton your cousin’s mistress?” she asked Alex, suddenly exhausted by the complexity of what had seemed like a fairly straightforward task when she set out that morning.

“Sometimes,” Alex said, looking a bit sheepish, though whether on his own behalf or that of his entire sex she could not say. “Perhaps it’s best if you take the child back home, and I will find my cousin for you.”

Suddenly, it seemed to occur to him that it might not be so simple. “That is, if you are able to keep her at your home? I cannot imagine your father is sanguine about your being the guardian—even temporarily—of a possibly illegitimate . . .”

“Do not refer to her by that word,” Merry said sharply, and to her distress, Lottie was startled awake and began crying.

She was trying to soothe her when Mr. Vessey appeared at her side and said, “May I?”

Merry frowned, and when she looked to Alex for guidance, he shrugged.

Since the baby was crying even more loudly now, she handed her to Vessey, who settled her into the crook of his arm and began rocking her and crooning nonsense words at her. To Merry’s amazement, Lottie stopped crying at once and blinked up at the man holding her.

“How did you do that?” Merry said. She was no expert on infant care, she knew, but she considered herself competent. Mr. Vessey, however, had some sort of gift.

“Four nieces,” the dark-haired man said with a crooked grin. “And I’m the only boy in a family with five sisters. If I didn’t learn early on how to charm the ladies, I’d have starved to death.”

He turned his gaze back to the baby in his arms and continued murmuring to her in a singsong voice.

“Spoiled rotten is how I’d characterize it.” Alex watched his friend, his eyes narrow with suspicion. “We grew up on neighboring estates,” he said to Merry. “And I can vouch for the truth of his passel of nieces and nephews. Though I was unaware of this particular gift of infant soothing.”

“Oh, I was quite spoiled,” Vessey assured them in his normal voice. “But that’s because I learned to charm them. Only, m’father saw through me. Though we were the only chaps, so there was solidarity there.”

Taking the opportunity to speak to Alex while Lottie was being charmed, Merry said to him, “You were asking about my father’s attitude toward me keeping Lottie in Parks House. I admit I didn’t tell him last night. But I am hardly a green debutante with a reputation to lose. At my age, and with how little I mix with high sticklers, I should think a few more days will not be a problem. And it appears that you are not set up to care for an infant.”

“There is a full nursery here,” he said, not meeting her gaze, and she suddenly remembered the day they’d spent touring those rooms together. They’d talked about their own childhoods and, shyly at first, the future. Most vivid in her mind, however, was how he’d kissed her, with her back pressed against the door, murmuring against her mouth just how much he wanted her.

Her cheeks heated at the memory, and she looked at her hands, unable to risk a glance at his face to see if he, too, remembered that day, or if he’d simply forgotten it all. “Of course. Perhaps in a few days when we know more, then. I have asked my maid to hire a wet nurse. And if my father objects, I will reevaluate the situation at Parks House. In the meantime, I thank you for your assistance.”

Suddenly needing to get out of his home so that she could breathe again, Merry stood.

Alex, perhaps feeling some nerves as well, shot to his feet, and Mr. Vessey, as if sensing the undercurrent between them, carefully handed the baby back to Merry. Lottie fussed a little, but when Merry held her against her shoulder and soothed her with a hand on her back, she calmed.

Wordlessly, she retraced her steps down the stairs and soon found herself back at the front entrance to the townhouse.

“I’ll send word as soon as I know anything,” Alex said as his butler helped her into her cloak. His earlier assured pose had been replaced by a restless energy that had him clasping and unclasping his hands at his sides. “I’ll settle something for her either way. I give you my word.”

She locked eyes with him at that, unable to forget how she’d broken her word to him. At the time, under the persuasive gaze of his grandmother, she’d thought it was the right thing. Now, however, it was impossible not to wonder if she’d made the wrong decision.

Still, there were more grave things to consider at the moment.

“Thank you, my lord.” She offered him her hand and to her relief, he took it. He didn’t bow over it or kiss it as he once would have done, but he did envelop it in his. And that warmth gave her comfort.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said simply.

Then he let her go, and she turned and left his house.

* * *

Alex stood for a moment, staring at the door.

Of all the surprises he’d expected from this week, having Merry Parks walk back into his life with an infant in tow wasn’t one of them. It was almost as if his thoughts that morning about reevaluating what had happened between them had conjured her from thin air—like a Christmas spirit sent to give him a chance to right things between them.

He gave a huff of soft laughter. He was just as mad as Findlay for thinking he could make the tomcat climb the curtains. Merry might need his assistance to find his cousin, but she didn’t seem to be full of remorse for the way she’d walked away five years ago. If anything, she seemed stronger, more self-assured.

It had been a shock to see her there. And for the space of a moment he’d felt that old bone-deep elation at seeing her. It happened before his mind could engage to remind him he was no longer supposed to be pleased at the mere sight of her. Then just as quickly, it all came back to him. Her terse note, the lack of any warning that she had second thoughts about their upcoming wedding, and the discovery when he returned to London that she’d embarked on a trip to Greece with her father. There was no shortage of reasons for feeling as if the wind had been knocked from him.

And yet, it had been the child, and that split second of jealous rage at the idea someone else had been with her—his Merry—that ultimately robbed him of breath. Even once she’d explained that the child wasn’t hers, it had taken his body a few minutes to calm down. Five years and he was still capable of that sort of emotional reaction to her.

The niggle of an idea came to him, not completely out of ether, since he’d already been thinking about the past. But it did seem as if he’d been given an opportunity to sets things right and, if possible, to win her back. He would help Merry find his cousin and see to it that Will did right by his child. And along the way, he’d use every ounce of persuasion he had to find out the truth of why she left and convince her to give him another chance.

But first, he needed to find his cousin.

* * *

Merry had little time to reflect on seeing Alex again during the carriage ride back to Parks House. Lottie was fussy from being shuttled from the warmth of the indoors into the chill of the outdoors and back again. And it was with relief that she greeted Effie at the entrance of her home and handed the infant into her maid’s capable hands.

“I’ve a wet nurse upstairs in the guest room where we’ve set up the crib, Miss Merry,” said the maid as Merry tugged off her gloves and removed her hat and coat and handed them to Milton. “I’ll just take her up to Mrs. Potts, and you can get a hot cup of tea.”

Thanking Effie, Merry turned to Milton. “I suppose, since Effie is speaking openly, that Papa hasn’t returned yet?”

“He sent word that he’ll not be back for two days at least, Miss Merry,” the butler said.

That was a relief, at least. Asking Milton to have some tea brought up to her sitting room, she headed upstairs and into the rooms she’d occupied since she’d left the nursery years before.

She’d long ago reconciled herself to life without the comforts of marriage and children. But seeing Alex again, noting the small changes that the years had wrought on him—the tiny lines fanning from his eyes, the silver at his temples—had reminded her with ferocity of just what she’d given up by giving in to his grandmother’s threats.

It had been easy enough to convince herself that she was the only one she’d hurt by leaving, but that fiction had been denied her when she saw that Alex was still, after all these years, moved to emotion on seeing her.

Her rumination was interrupted by Milton himself with the tea tray.

“I asked Cook to include some of the gingerbread you like, Miss Merry,” he said as he settled the tray on the low table beside her.

The older man’s kindness made tears spring to her eyes, which she quickly dashed away. Milton had watched over her when she returned from Wrotham Keep five years ago with a grave sadness that had been soothing, but he also chivied her into getting on with her life. They’d never openly discussed it, but she knew that he loved her like a daughter and had been as disappointed for her as her own father had been.

“Thank you, Milton,” she said with a smile. “And please thank Cook. I do wish we could tempt her to bake gingerbread at some other time of year, but I suppose it tastes better for being so infrequent a treat.”

“You just let me know if you need anything else, Miss Merry,” Milton said gruffly before leaving her to sip her tea in silence.

Deciding that she’d indulged in enough self-pity for one day, when Merry had finished the tea and cake, she turned to the translation her father had left for her and buried herself in work.

It was some two hours later when she heard a brisk knock on the door of her sitting room.

“Lord Wrotham has called, Miss Merry,” said Milton, stepping into the small room. “He asks to see you in the drawing room.”

At the mention of Alex, Merry’s heart skipped a beat. Then recalling that it was likely related to Lottie, she shook off the momentary elation and squared her shoulders.

“Thank you, Milton,” she said in a voice calmer than she felt. “Please tell him I’ll be down in a moment. And offer him refreshment. I believe Papa has some brandy in the drawing room.”

Milton looked as if he’d like to say something but instead gave a brisk nod and left her.

Taking in a bracing, slow breath, Merry smoothed her palms over the skirts of her gown and swallowed. If he was here, it was likely because he had some news about his cousin. It had nothing to do with her personally. That was long past for both of them.

Any hint of spark that had been between them today was simply the residue left over from the past.

Thus it was that a calm, collected Merry made her way downstairs to the drawing room and gave a soft knock on the door before she stepped inside.

Alex, she noted, was standing before the fire, his broad shoulders and narrow waist shown to perfection in the coat that had been tailored expertly and owed nothing to padding.

At the sound of her entry, he turned and stood up straight. Their eyes locked, and for a moment Merry lost the ability to breathe.

But almost as quickly as it happened, some impulse of self-preservation made her look away, and the moment was lost.

“Lord Wrotham,” she said, grateful that her voice didn’t crack from nerves. “I hope your visit means you’ve found your cousin.”

In fact, some corner of her soul was disappointed that he’d found William Ponsonby so quickly because it meant that whatever reasons she had to keep in touch with Alex were now at an end, but she ruthlessly suppressed the sentiment.

His beautiful lips were tight for the space of a moment before he said with a slight shake of his head, “In fact, I have not, I’m afraid. But I have a good guess as to where he’s gone, and I came to issue an invitation.”

She blinked at his words. Some sixth sense told her that this invitation would complicate what she’d hoped would be a simple handover of Lottie to her father’s family.

“Perhaps we should sit down,” she said, recognizing that it might be difficult to remain upright in his presence should her knees continue their pattern of turning to jelly. She moved to the sofa before the fire and indicated that he might take a seat in one of the large armchairs at an angle from her own position.

But she underestimated his restlessness. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said with a rueful smile, “but I’ll remain standing, thank you.”

Nodding wordlessly, she indicated with a hand that he should continue.

“My cousin was not in any of the places here in town where I thought to find him,” Alex said, the firelight catching on the jeweled pin in his cravat. “And it occurred to me that he is very likely in Kent at Wrotham Keep. As you might recall from . . . before . . . my grandmother the dowager likes to have the family up to the Keep for the holidays, and since I’m newly returned from Paris, she has made a special point of”—he coughed—“encouraging everyone to attend this year.”

Knowing what his grandmother’s special brand of encouragement might entail, Merry had little doubt that the extended members of the Ponsonby family would be loath to disappoint the family matriarch. Even one as powerful as Lord Wrotham himself. So it was difficult to imagine that a scapegrace like William Ponsonby would be so bold as to ignore the dowager’s wishes.

“I can well imagine what sort of pressure the dowager might exert,” Merry said aloud. “So you believe William has already departed for Wrotham Keep?”

“I do,” Alex said with a nod. “And I believe the easiest way for you to introduce Will to his daughter will be to bring her to him at the Keep. I realize that it’s not the most convenient time of the year to embark upon a journey with an infant, but at the very least, the weather is good just now. We should be able to make the journey in a couple of days. And you will have time to get back to London before the holiday. Unless, that is, you wish to remain at the Keep for Christmas. You are more than welcome to do so.”

His green eyes were intense as he said this last, and then he glanced away before he continued. “It is the least we can offer you after you’ve taken such care of Lottie.”

Merry felt his last sentence like a dash of cold water to the face. Blinking, she reminded herself that Lottie was the reason he was here. It had nothing to do with her. Or whatever imaginary connection she thought still existed between them. She’d been the one to leave him, after all. Of course he wouldn’t forgive her desertion in the space of a few hours.

And there was also the matter of William to consider. “I don’t believe you’ve offered any kind of rationalization for why your cousin might do such a thing as marry my friend and then abandon her to her fate. I do trust you to do right by Lottie, but I cannot say I am sanguine about her father.”

Looking grateful to have the subject changed, Alex nodded. “I cannot blame you, but I can assure you that my cousin has undergone a profound change since your friend knew him. While I was in France, I got word that he was in dire straits, and I saw to it that he received the help he needed to break the hold spirits had over him.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I only regret that I had no notion of what he’d done with regard to your friend before I had him removed from London and taken to Scotland where he could isolate himself from the friends who encouraged his dissolute behavior.”

So, Merry thought, it was Alex himself who had made it impossible for Charlotte to find her husband. And it had been in an effort to help his cousin. What a coil.

“I do realize it was my cousin’s ill behavior that led to all of this,” he said gravely, “but I hope you will give him a chance to prove to you that he is reformed. I cannot speak for him, of course, but the Will I know is an honorable man and will do right by his daughter.”

She would need to meet William Ponsonby herself before she could believe that. Alex was a good judge of character, except when it came to his family. At least, that had been her experience, given his grandmother’s conduct.

“I suppose I’ll need to accompany Lottie to Wrotham Keep, then,” she said with a nod. Though she felt some trepidation, another part of her looked forward to seeing the dowager again. If only to show that lady how much she’d changed from the shy mouse who’d run away five years earlier.

Alex looked relieved to hear her assent to the trip. “I don’t see any reason for us to delay the trip,” he said. “Especially if you wish to return here before Christmas. I presume your father would not wish to have you separated from him for the holidays.”

“Papa would likely not even remember it was a holiday if I weren’t here to remind him,” Merry said wryly. “But, yes, I should like to return in time to celebrate with him.”

They shared a smile, but after a moment, Alex’s expression turned serious. “Miss Parks—Merry—I know it’s been years, but I never learned, that is to say, I would like to know . . . Was it something I did or said? That made you leave, I mean.”

She knew what he was asking, and though she’d vowed never to reveal to him just how badly his own grandmother had behaved, Merry felt that, at the very least, he should know that he was blameless. “No,” she assured him, her voice low with emotion. “I cannot say more than that. But please rest assured that you were not to blame.”

He took a step toward her, sat beside her on the sofa. Taking her hands, he asked, “Then what was it? What could possibly have induced you to leave? We were happy, I thought. One minute we were happy and the next you were gone. Without explanation. Merry, you owe me some explanation.” She felt the pressure of his hands on hers, and when she dared to look into his green eyes they were shining with emotion.

Both their lives had been ruined when she fell prey to his grandmother’s influence. But Merry couldn’t ruin his relationship with the woman who had all but raised him after his mother had departed for France. “I was a foolish, green girl, Alex,” she said. “I believed someone’s lies, and I thought I was doing the right thing. I knew soon enough that I was wrong. But I thought you would have got over it by now.”

“Whose lies?” he demanded. “Who made you leave me?”

But she couldn’t tell. Pulling her hands away, she shook her head. “I can’t.”

His hand was soft on her face, then. And she turned into it to look at him, like a sunflower drawn to the sun. “Merry.” That one word was all he said before he lowered his mouth to hers.

It was like a homecoming, Merry thought, as she inhaled the familiar sandalwood and pine scent of him. For five long years, she’d denied herself this man’s kisses, and for what? His lips opened over hers, and she didn’t hesitate to welcome him, giving him back his heat with her own. The long-remembered feel of his hands on her face while he seduced her with his mouth was almost painful in the way it triggered her memories of the past. And yet, this wasn’t the past, it was the here and now. And though there was some rational corner of her brain shouting at her to pull away, the rest of her gave in with abandon.

* * *

Alex felt the moment she gave in to him and relaxed into the kiss. And he knew then that no matter what had persuaded her to leave him five years before, the fact was that whatever it was that had drawn them together was still there simmering between them.

Merry, Merry, Merry. His body felt every sensation of her soft curves against him as a repetition of her name. This was what he’d been missing. This woman, with her sweet mouth and enticing scent. He held her mouth to his and told her with his tongue against hers just how much he’d missed her. How much he still needed her.

It was her moan when he moved his hand to her breast that reminded him of just where they were. And reluctantly, with one last soft kiss of her lips, he pulled away, breathless as a cricketer running for the other side of the pitch.

He focused on a particularly ugly figurine of a shepherdess on the mantel for a moment, willing his desire to make it less rudely visible, while he felt Merry regaining her own composure beside him.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, once he’d managed to get himself under control.

Merry stood abruptly, and he had no choice but to stand as well.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said, turning to face him. Her mouth, he noted with a sense of triumph, was swollen from his kisses, though it was now pursed with annoyance. “I cannot travel to Wrotham Keep with you if you cannot promise me you will keep your hands to yourself, my lord. I will admit that there is still some . . . attraction . . . between us, but what’s past is past. And I cannot allow my reputation to be put in danger by your rash behavior.”

He had no intention of making such a promise, Alex thought to himself. Not when it was obvious to him—and to her—that there was still attraction between them. And whatever her reasons for leaving five years ago, they had nothing to do with her lack of feelings for him.

And, he realized as he watched her scowling at him now, he still loved her.

Aloud, however, he said, “I will ride alongside the carriage on my own mount. You won’t even know I’m there except when we stop for refreshments. And, of course, you must bring your maid as chaperone.”

That would take care of the journey to the Keep, but he didn’t mention what might happen once they arrived. Because he was determined that whatever twist of fate had brought them together again, he would not squander this opportunity to convince her that they belonged together. And he would do whatever it took to make sure she remained at the Keep for the holidays.

“I suppose that will be acceptable,” she said stiffly. “And once I’ve assured myself that your cousin is as reformed as you say, I will return to London.”

Was that a hint of resignation in her tone, or had he imagined it?

Alex wanted to speak more about what had just happened between them, and more than anything he wanted to press her to tell him who it was that had made her leave him, but that could wait until they made it to the Keep.

“I’ll have my carriage pick up you, your maid, and the child at dawn tomorrow,” he said, impatient now to leave so that he could make travel arrangements.

“And the wet nurse,” Merry said wryly. “Lottie has quite an entourage for such a small thing.”

He laughed. “Then it’s a good thing my traveling carriage is quite large.”

“I’ll walk you to the door,” she said, and he gestured that she should precede him from the room.

The butler was at the door with Alex’s coat and hat at the ready, which indicated that, though Merry might consider herself firmly on the shelf, Milton was well aware of the danger Alex posed to her.

He settled his hat on his head and donned his greatcoat before turning to Merry, who stood with her hands clasped behind her, watching him.

“Until tomorrow, Miss Parks,” Alex said, meeting her gaze with his own.

And then he stepped out the door and into the frigid evening air.

Climbing into his curricle, he took the reins from the boy he’d paid a shilling to hold the horses and gave one last look at the door to Parks House before giving the matched pair a bit of rein and driving into the London traffic.