Matthew wanted nothing more than to escape to the quietness of his study, and hopefully, to the company of Miss Weston. Yet, he was still forced to entertain his host of guests.

His brother, of course, was having a wonderful time. Matthew could see him down at the pianoforte, offering to turn the pages of the music for whichever young lady it was sitting down to play. He, himself, was enjoying drinking his port in one of the large comfortable chairs in the corner, managing to keep himself mostly separate from the large crowd of guests. Soon enough, he would be able to excuse himself, citing some business that needed to be seen to, although the minutes were ticking by with agonizing slowness.

“Your grace!”

Looking up, Matthew tried not to let a grimace settle on his face, as he saw Lady Brookridge approach him with her husband not far behind. Out of all of his guests, he could not find them in any way amiable. They were both rather full of themselves, loud and exuberant. They had both commented on practically everything they had seen, touched, or eaten since they had arrived, gushing over him and his home.

Matthew had not been impressed.

“Lady Brookridge,” he murmured, getting out of his seat so as not to be rude. “How are you this evening?”

“Well,” Lady Brookridge replied, with a gleam in her eye. “I was just telling my husband how surprised I was to discover that you have someone we know within your household.”

A ripple of unease settled in his stomach. He had not had the opportunity to talk to Sophia about the presence of her family in his home. Now, it appeared that they had somehow met her already. What had been said? Was she quite all right? Had they upset her? Laughed at her? Mocked her?

“My wife tells me you have employed a new governess,” Lord Brookridge chuckled, his eyes bright with too much liquor. “I do hope she is doing well.”

They have no shame, Matthew thought to himself, his hands twisting together as he struggled to contain his anger. Most of the ton would be embarrassed to discover that their relation was in employment in another home, but it was clear that neither of them particularly cared.

“We had to send her away, of course,” Lady Brookridge murmured, a little more quietly. “Circumstances had changed, and it was best for her to find employment.”

“It was not as though she would have much success in London,” Viscount Brookridge chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Such a plain thing, is she not? Best suited to a governess. Although, I do hope she has not let you down in that regard. Never too sure just how much she was able to take in, you know.”

“Miss Weston is quite intelligent, and I am very pleased with her,” Matthew grated, finding their company more and more intolerable the longer they spoke. “She has done a remarkable job with my daughter thus far.”

Viscount Brookridge nodded slowly, shooting a glance toward his wife that had Matthew wondering what they were about. There was something more to this conversation than simple discussion, he realized, frowning heavily.

“We will have to take her back with us, you understand,” Viscount Brookridge finished, clearing his throat briskly. “My wife is due to have our son or daughter in a few months’ time, and we will require Sophia’s help.”

Matthew felt himself bristle with fury, their clear disregard for Sophia and her own wishes causing him a great deal of frustration.

“I am sure you will understand,” Viscountess Brookridge continued calmly, as though it were all settled. “Ten days’ time and we shall have to take her with us.”

Clearing his throat, Matthew lifted his chin and pinned the viscountess with his gaze. He was not about to let Miss Weston go just because her sister-in-law decided that she wanted Sophia’s help for her own child when the time came.

“Miss Weston is in my employ, and I have no intention of ending her employment here,” he said firmly. “She is doing wonderfully with my daughter, and since I know she does not wish to leave, then I will be ensuring that she stays.”

Viscount Brookridge frowned, his eyes glazing over. “I say, your grace, that is a little high-handed, do you not think?”

Matthew arched one eyebrow, as though reminding Lord Brookridge who he was speaking to, but the man did not so much as look away.

“If you will excuse me,” Matthew said, aware that the conversation was not about to continue. “I think there are some matters of business that I need to see to.” Leaving them standing together in the drawing room, Matthew caught his brother’s eye and jerked his head. Arthur nodded and gave him a half smile, telling him silently that he understood exactly what Matthew was saying. He would continue as the host of the party until the guests chose to retire. Relieved that he could escape them, Matthew slipped out of the door and made his way along the corridor, breathing hard with anger.

He had known that he would not enjoy Viscount Brookridge and his wife’s company but had never thought that they would ever find out that Sophia was within the household. It must simply have been a chance encounter, one that might have greatly upset her.

Clenching his fists, Matthew hurried to his study, looking up at the clock as he entered. She would be here within a few minutes.

Letting out a long breath, Matthew considered what life would be like without Miss Weston in his home. He was surprised at just how much pain stole through his heart at the thought, aware that it would greatly affect both himself and his daughter. Sarah would be devastated if Miss Weston were to leave, for it was more than obvious just how much she loved her governess. He had seen his daughter brighten the moment Miss Weston stepped into the room and had seen the happy smile on her face as she walked with Miss Weston in the gardens. There was so much love shared between them that he could not bear to think of it being ripped away from his daughter.

What would he feel about it all? Would he miss Miss Weston, were she to leave?

The answer was not something he needed to consider for more than a second or two. To have her gone from his life when they were only just beginning to get to know one another brought him nothing but sadness. He did not want to lose her.

“She cannot go,” he whispered to himself, beginning to pace up and down the study floor. “I cannot be without her.”

The feelings he had for Miss Weston suddenly flared to life, burning with a sudden, deep passion. They had been so small, so timid before, but now they burst through him with such an intensity that he fought to catch his breath.

His brother was right. He had been hating the prospect of returning to London for the Season, to find himself a suitable wife that would be no better and no worse than Elizabeth. He had resigned himself to the fact that his bride would neither love nor care for him, although he had hoped that there might be some kind of tolerable affection between them. The last thing he had wanted for himself and his daughter was a cold, distant woman so like his first wife.

And yet now, here in his home, he had a young, genteel young lady of good breeding, who loved his daughter with such gentle tenderness that it was obvious to everyone who saw them. He did not need to worry about Sarah when she was with Miss Weston, for he had no doubt that she was being both well taught and well cared for. Miss Weston was not someone who held her heart back from her charge; she did not keep herself from showing any kind of affection to Sarah. She was almost as devoted to his daughter as he was.

But marriage?

The thought pierced his mind, knowing that if he revealed his affections to her, then that would lead to one of two outcomes. Either he would have her as his bride, or she would leave his home and his heart forever. It was not as though he did not believe she had no thought of him in her own heart, for he had caught her shy glances and flare of light in her eyes when they had talked, when he had smiled at her, when he had told her that he could not think of his home without her in it. But to move to more than that was somewhat dangerous ground. He did not care about the scandal that might follow them should he marry her. After all, he was a duke and cared very little for what rumors might attach themselves to him. Besides which, it was not as though Miss Weston was in any way a poor, untitled spinster with no good family or fortune to speak of. She was the daughter of a viscount, which meant there could be no difficulty in the wedding. It might raise a few eyebrows, but that would not bother them here, not when they would live so far away from London.

“Good gracious,” he murmured, sinking down into a chair as his legs grew suddenly weak. Was he truly thinking about marrying Miss Weston? Was he doing so in order to keep her in his household, or because he truly wanted to do so?

It was a question he could not easily answer, his emotions tied up in knots as he put his head in his hands, trying to sort out one lot of feelings from the other.

A quiet rap at the door signaled the arrival of the person he had been waiting for. Without calling out, he rose to his feet and went to open the door himself, turning the handle and pulling it back.

Miss Weston looked back at him, her eyes red-rimmed and face pale in the lamplight.

“Oh, Miss Weston,” Matthew said heavily. “I am truly sorry for what has occurred. I meant to tell you. Please, do come in.”

She nodded and stepped inside, her fingers knotting together in front of her. Feeling nothing but guilt over what he had neglected to do in warning her about the presence of Lord and Lady Brookridge, Matthew shut the door firmly and turned the key in the lock. He was not about to be disturbed.