Bella waited until after Grandfather and Johann had quit the breakfast room before she stepped over the threshold and settled into a seat along the far wall. Heaven forbid she should have to engage either of them in conversation.

Besides, the situation with Elliott lay heavily on her mind, and focusing on him had to take her full attention. Her brother would have to make an appearance in the breakfast room at some point, she was certain. At least she thought he would as he’d have to eat sooner or later, though she feared it would be later rather than sooner considering his late nights. And last night he’d been later than usual, according to Mary and the servants’ gossip.

Time ticked by, but Bella waited patiently; and eventually, she’d outlasted Papa and even Prissa in the breakfast room. But she wasn’t deterred and was determined to stay put until her quarry finally arrived.

Sitting alone, she sipped what was now tepid tea, while she drew various angles of the exterior of the Royal Opera House from memory in her sketchbook. She wasn’t certain how long she’d sat there, waiting; but she knew the moment her brother stepped over the threshold. The energy in the breakfast room was at once filled with so much angst the change could be felt instantly.

Bella glanced up from her sketchbook and met her brother’s eyes, directly. “Morning, Elliott,” she said, even though it was already sometime in the afternoon.

He heaved an irritated sigh as he made his way to the sideboard. “Whatever you’re going to say, you can keep it to yourself.”

Certainly, he didn’t think that was going to dissuade her, not after watching him sell their grandmother’s jewelry the day before. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. We must have a conversation.” She frowned at her brother as he filled a plate with sausages. “I want to talk to you about our encounter at Garrard, what you were doing there yesterday.”

He cast her a glance back over his shoulder. “I don’t have to answer to you, and while we’re on that subject, Bella, you can have Avery stop trailing me everywhere I go too. It’s damned annoying.”

Trailing him? Bella blinked at her brother. “I beg your pardon?” What in the world did he mean by that?

Elliott did turn around fully then, irritation rolling off him in waves. “I’m not an imbecile, Bella. I don’t know why you have him following me. But call him off, will you?”

He was out of his mind. “On my honor, Elliott, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her brother snorted. “The bawdy house, the jeweler, the gaming hall last night...”

Greg visited a bawdy house? Bella’s stomach twisted at the thought. She hadn’t thought he was the sort to—

“..Looking down his nose at me,” Elliott continued in annoyance. “And I am quite tired of it.”

Greg hadn’t said anything about following Elliott around, and Bella doubted he’d done such a thing. But, goodness, had Greg really visited a bawdy house? Bella shook the awful thought from her mind. “This has nothing to do with Lord Avery. This is between you and me, Elliott. The things you’re doing, they’re going to land all of us in an unfortunate situation. If Grandfather—”

“Wasn’t such a stingy bastard, I wouldn’t have to take an advance on my inheritance,” Elliott finished for her. “And I will not feel guilty about it. So you can save your breath.”

For heaven’s sake, reasoning with him was nearly impossible. “Those earbobs were supposed to be mine, Elliott.”

He scoffed as he shook his head. “I never thought you were so selfish, Bella. You don’t need them, but I did. You want to see me destitute and living in a gutter, do you? All for some shiny baubles?”

Was he serious? He was trying to make her feel guilty for his actions? “Elliott, you need some sort of help, and not just financially.” And then her conversation with Prissa popped back into her mind. “What will happen to your son in Seven Dials if you don’t pull your life together now?”

He stared at her blankly for a moment and then his mouth fell slightly open. “Prissa told you,” he said as though he was putting two and two together.

Prissa had told her that Elliott claimed to have a daughter in the notorious rookery. Had he missed that little detail just now because he was so surprised that Bella knew about the child? Or had he simply forgotten the lie he’d told their sister, and didn’t remember if he was supposed to have a son or a daughter? One way to find out. “What’s his name, Elliott? I think I have a right to know my nephew’s name.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to answer…

“Michael,” he finally said. “Named after Father.” Then he started toward the table, looking as sincere as he ever had. “So you see why I need funds now.”

Bella closed her eyes, unable to look at her brother, who truly was a practiced lair. If she didn’t know better, she might very well have believed him. “Then why did you tell Prissa you’ve sired a daughter, if you’ve had a son you named after Father?” She opened her eyes once more and pinned her brother with a glare. What had happened to the sweet boy she’d grown up with? “Do you even know when you’re lying anymore, Elliott? Or when you’re telling the truth? Or is it all just one big blur?”

Instantly, her brother’s face was red with indignation. “You tried to trick me.”

And was successful. “If you were telling the truth, you couldn’t have been tricked.”

“I don’t need the damn Spanish Inquisition, Bella. So you can save your condescension and Avery’s. Just stay out of my life,” he growled before abandoning his plate of sausages on the sideboard and stalking from the breakfast room in a fit of anger.

That was awful. One of the worst things she’d ever experienced, and Bella’s heart ached for her brother. She had adored him, looked up to him when they were children, he’d comforted her when Mama had left but now… The man who’d fled the breakfast room was a stranger to her, someone she didn’t even recognize.

Less than a moment later, Prissa stepped back into the breakfast room, her face ashen white. “He lied to me,” she whispered.

So she’d heard that entire exchange, had she? Hopefully, no one else had. Bella shook her head. “I don’t think he even knows how to tell the truth anymore.”

Her sister crossed the floor and dropped into a chair across from Bella. “What are we going to do about him?”

If only Bella had an answer for that. “I think we have to talk to Papa.” Because they did have to do something. They couldn’t be complacent where their brother was concerned.

Prissa nodded in agreement. “He’s gone out for the day. Maybe that will give us time to figure out what to say to him.”

“The truth, Priss.” Bella shook her head once more. “There’s no point in saying anything less than the truth. Papa needs to know the extent of what’s happening with Elliott.” It was quite likely, though, that Bella didn’t know the full extent of the truth herself. However, if Greg had been following Elliott – though that still seemed so hard to believe – but if he had been, he might know more than Bella did. She’d have to hurry over to Clayworth House very soon to make their next sitting. As it was, she was going to be late. Hopefully Greg wouldn’t leave before she got there.

“I feel awful,” Prissa said softly.

So did Bella. How in the world had things gotten so bad with their brother? “Papa will sort it out,” she said, hoping her words were true.

She pushed out of her seat to head off for Clayworth House when her horrid cousin appeared just inside the doorway. His icy eyes made an uncomfortable shiver race down Bella’s spine.

“Cousin,” he clipped out, “we will have a word now.”

Heaven forbid he should ask nicely. Bella shook her head. “We’ll have to have it later, my lord. As it is, I am late for an appointment at my future sister’s home.”

* * *

The last person Greg expected to see wander into the sitting room was his golden-haired nephew Julian, the two-year-old Lord Bayhurst. But the toddler came racing over the threshold, holding a little wooden soldier in his pudgy hands. Despite himself, Greg smiled at the little baron.

“I bet your mother is looking for you.”

The little boy crossed the floor toward the settee where Greg sat, mumbling a jumble of words that made exactly no sense and then lifting his toy up for inspection.

“Yes, you have a solider,” Greg said. “Like Uncle Tristan and Uncle Russell.”

His nephew giggled and then climbed up onto the settee beside Greg. He muttered more gibberish, twisting and turning the little soldier this way and then that.

Greg wasn’t certain what to say to the boy, so he asked, “You like that little fellow, do you?”

“Yes!” Julian replied, a word that was unmistakable, unlike the rest of his words.

Greg nodded. “I know a story about a soldier. Do you want to hear it?”

His nephew’s eyes lit up and he scooted himself toward the back of the settee as he snuggled against Greg.

It wasn’t the same emphatic yes he’d blurted out a minute before, but Greg took the child’s actions to mean he would, indeed, like a story about a soldier. “Well, once upon a time there was a great general. A general is the most important, the bravest of all the soldiers. He gives orders to other soldiers and tells them what to do,” Greg explained.

His nephew nodded vigorously as though that made sense, but Greg doubted the little baron really understood.

He continued anyway, “This general was from Carthage, an ancient city at the top of Africa. His name was Hannibal and he was quite famous. And one time he took an entire army including elephants….” He cast the boy a sidelong glance. “Do you know what an elephant is?”

Julian shook his head.

“It’s a giant animal,” Greg told him, then gestured to the space around them. “As big as this room almost. And they have these long noses called trunks that nearly go down to the ground…”

His nephew’s eyes were round in surprise.

“Clearly, your mother needs to take you to the Royal Menagerie.”

“Perhaps you’ll join us when we go,” Cordie said from the threshold.

Greg glanced up at his sister. “Just telling him about Hannibal.”

“What a lovely story for a two year old,” Cordie teased as she stepped into the sitting room.

Greg shrugged slightly. “Well, he had a soldier. I’m not very good with children.”

“I beg to differ,” his sister said as she crossed the room and picked up her child. “He seems quite enthralled with your tales of elephants.” Then she glanced around the room. “Arabella hasn’t arrived yet?”

Greg shook his head. “Just now starting to worry about her.” Especially after Gillingham made that odd comment the night before about Bella needing a white knight to look after her.

“Be careful, Greg, or I’ll start believing you genuinely care for the girl.”

Greg snorted softly. “You’re the only one in Town who knows I don’t, not really.”

“Not really?” she asked, and those perceptive green eyes of hers bore into him.

He frowned, feeling a bit uncomfortable under her stare. “I mean, she’s a delightful girl. I want the best for her.”

“And what about you?” Cordie asked. “Don’t you deserve the best, as well?”

Certainly, she wasn’t trying to play matchmaker. “I’m doing this as a favor for you.”

Cordie agreed with a nod of her head. “It started out that way, but it could always be more, couldn’t it?”

“Cordie…”

“Your eyes light up when you’re with her, Greg. You’re almost—” she heaved a sigh “—well, you’re almost like your old self.”

And in a lot of ways he almost felt like his old self. Bella was…

Well, at the moment she was standing right in the corridor. Blast it all. Had she heard any of that?

Greg pushed to his feet and nodded in her direction. “There you are.”

That familiar blush of hers pinkened her cheeks, and Greg was afraid she might very well have heard more than he would have liked. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No need to apologize,” he said.

Cordie started toward the doorway, jostling her son in her arms. “Someone is in desperate need of a nap.” She pressed a kiss to Bella’s cheek. “I hope you won’t leave today without us having a chance to chat.”

To chat about what? Greg frowned at his interfering sister’s backside.

“Of course not,” Bella said just before Cordie and her tiny baron disappeared down the corridor. Then his lovely, raven-haired, temporary fiancée stepped into the sitting room and immediately took his breath away as she was wont to do. But at the moment, something wasn’t quite right. Greg could tell by her slightly furrowed brow and the lack of luster in her silvery eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Greg’s gut tightened as he started toward her, almost as though he was drawn to her by an invisible force.

“Greg.” Bella blinked up at him. “Have you been following my brother around Town?”

Gillingham’s accusation from the previous night echoed in Greg’s ears. “I followed him once to…” Well, he’d really rather not say where, not to her.

“A bawdy house?” she guessed, her cheeks more than red.

So much for not wanting to admit as much to her. “He told you?” He doubted she would have ever come up with that on her own. She was too sweet, too innocent. Why the devil would her imbecilic brother tell her such a foolish thing?

She swallowed a bit uncomfortably. “So you didn’t stumble upon him? You…followed him? Truly?”

Well, it certainly wasn’t the sort of establishment Greg frequented. The last thing he needed was to contract the pox, for God’s sake. “The night he made that scene at Kelfield’s. I wanted to…talk to him.” Actually, he’d wanted to crash his fist in the man’s face, but he hadn’t and there was no point in admitting as much.

Bella shook her head as though that didn’t make any sense at all. And perhaps it didn’t, but Greg hadn’t been able to help himself. There was something about her that had called to him, and had ever since he’d first glimpsed her at the Astwicks’. If there was some way, any way, he could assist her, he would do it. Even if it involved dealing with her wastrel of a brother.

“Why, Greg? What did you want to say to him…there?”

Was it the location she objected to? Or the fact that Greg had overreached his bounds in seeking Gillingham out? “I tried to press upon him how his actions were hurting you, but—”

“You went there for me?”

“I simply followed him there.”

“For me?”

“Well, of course, I—”

She threw her arms around his neck before he could say anything else and held onto him tightly. “You are the most wonderful man,” she said against his cheek, and for a moment, he felt like he might be the luckiest man, having her arms around him.

Dear God, her breasts pressed against his chest and all of his careful, rational thoughts quickly fled his mind. If he could only hold her, keep her lithe form pressed against him as though she belonged there, he’d never want for anything else. Damn it all, her nearness brought every part of Greg to life, and a part of him he’d long forgotten seemed to wake anew as he held her close.

For God’s sake, she made him feel like himself, like his old self, like he had before he’d made a giant mess out of his life. And she made him want things he’d never thought he’d want again.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before she seemed to realize what she’d done, and she released her hold on him. Greg, however, did not release his hold on her. After all, letting her go was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Instead, he stared down at her, in his arms, his gaze drifting to her lips. If he could just kiss her again…

Before he could think the better of it, he slid one hand from her waist to gently cup the side of her face. And then Greg pressed his lips to hers. She melted against him; and Greg deepened their kiss, tangling his tongue with hers and reveling in the feel of her, the sweet taste of her lips and the soft little mewls that escaped her.

“Oh, Greg,” she whispered as her fingers grazed the back of his neck, sending frissons of need washing through him.

Good God, if she drove him this mad, fully clothed in his sister’s sitting room, he could only imagine what it would be like to have Bella naked and in his bed. He would never leave it and he’d make certain she never wanted to.

After a moment, he lifted his head and stared down at her once more. God in heaven, there was no one like her in the world. Her breaths came out in little puffs and her silvery eyes had a dewy look about them, and he wanted to kiss her again and again and never stop.

“Did we need to convince someone?” she whispered as though they had an audience behind them.

“No.” Greg couldn’t help himself, he laughed. She, clearly, had no idea how she affected him. He tucked one of her arrant dark curls behind her ear and said, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time, Bella. Nearly every moment I’m with you, in fact.” He just generally had better control of himself. But when she’d thrown herself into his arms, it was as though a floodgate had opened within him. And the last thing he wanted to do was go back to who he’d been before she’d done so.

* * *

Bella could only stare up at him after that admission. Did she dare hope he’d let himself fall even the tiniest bit in love with her? Was that why he’d made certain Grandmama’s earbobs were returned to her? Was that why he’d tried to reason with Elliott on her behalf, because he actually cared for her? Everything he’d done went well beyond him pretending to be her betrothed. At least she thought it did. And she hoped it meant so much more than that.

“Say something,” he said after a moment.

But what was she to say? That she’d fallen in love with him almost that first day? She wasn’t brazen enough to say something like that. He hadn’t, after all, said anything of the like to her. Just that he wanted to kiss her and she did want that too. So she very softly said, “Kiss me again, Greg.”

And without a moment’s hesitation, he dipped his head lower and brushed his lips against hers. Bella’s eyes fluttered closed and she reveled in the feel of his arms around her, of his sandalwood scent invading her senses, and of the pulsing that began to pound deep within her core.

Greg groaned slightly against her as his hands trailed down her back to cup her bottom. Goodness! No one had ever touched her like that, and the pulsing within her grew stronger, more insistent. And then he kissed a trail to her jaw and then down to her neck and…

Oh! Nothing had ever felt so amazing in her life. “Greg,” she breathed out as his lips trailed from her neck to the top of her décolletage. But then…

But then something foreign seemed to crash into the back of Bella’s legs. She gasped and pushed out of Greg’s embrace.

“Bella?” he began, not at all sounding like himself.

But something had definitely touched her. She spun around to find his tiny nephew standing right behind her, clutching her skirts in his hands. And Greg’s sister stood just inside the doorway, wearing the most peculiar expression. Goodness, what must Cordie think of her?

Bella’s cheeks burned from embarrassment. She couldn’t even meet Greg’s gaze. How could she ever do so again after her actions?

The countess gestured to the settee a few feet away. “Julian left his soldier. Sorry to interrupt.”

Greg took a step away from Bella and plucked a little wooden solider from the settee. Then he handed it to his young nephew. “There you go.” He patted the top of the little boy’s blond head and then he turned his attention to his sister. “We’ll have a conversation later, you and me.”

Cordie nodded in agreement. “Oh, I’m looking forward to it.” Then she scooped her son and his toy solider up into her arms and made a hasty retreat.

Bella dropped onto the settee in complete mortification. “She thinks I’m a wanton.”

A soft chuckle escaped Greg as he slid into the spot beside her. “I promise you she doesn’t.”

But Bella had no doubts. “Did you see the look on her face?” she asked as she cringed. “I never should have—”

“That expression was one of triumph, my dear.”

“Triumph?” Bella echoed, finally meeting his green gaze once more. What was there to be triumphant about?

“I get the feeling,” he said, taking her hand in his and brushing his thumb over her knuckles, “that my sister had more than a pretend betrothal in mind when she set this whole thing up.”

“But she couldn’t have.” Lissy had dragged Bella to Clayworth House that first day, hoping for assistance. Cordie hadn’t even known Bella existed before then, not in any real way.

“One should never underestimate my sister.” Greg breathed out a sigh. “After what she just witnessed, she’ll expect nothing less than a grand wedding at St. George’s. I can assure you of that”

He had to be kidding. “Certainly not.” Bella frowned at him. “Technically, we’re already betrothed. At least until I cry off.”

Greg agreed with a nod. “Yes, but once all of this is over, I don’t think my sister will make that easy on you, not now at least.”

Bella shook her head. Being Greg’s betrothed in reality would be nothing short of…well, wonderful, especially if he touched and kissed her like that the rest of her days. In fact, she was fairly certain she would never want for anything more the rest of her life. But that wasn’t the agreement they made all those many days ago. “That would hardly be fair to you, not when you’ve only agreed to do me this favor.”

“I was the one taking liberties just now.” Greg squeezed her hand. “And I actually think we would suit each other rather well, Bella. What do you think?”

Was he serious? Her heart leapt at the suggestion. Still, this wasn’t their first conversation about marriage. “Aren’t you the same man who told me you never planned to marry?”

He nodded once more. “I have recently been reminded that once upon a time I experienced life as it came. And…well, you have enchanted me, Bella, from that first night at the Astwicks’ until today.”

She enchanted him? Did she really? Bella swallowed a bit nervously. “Are you saying you want to marry me? In reality?”

“In any way you’ll take me,” he said, looking more than sincere. Then he shook his head as though he couldn’t believe he’d said as much. And she couldn’t quite believe it either. “But you should know I’m not the selfless hero you’ve made me out to be. I’m flawed. I can be stubborn and difficult. I don’t want to fool you into thinking I’m something, someone that I’m not.”

He was the most heroic man she’d ever encountered. Every single thing he’d done since she met him had left Bella in awe. But he still hadn’t said he loved her. Of course, love had never been one of her requirements. If I end up married to a courteous man, that’s all I require. That was what she’d said to Cordie all those many days ago, wasn’t it? And Greg was courteous, more so than she could have ever hoped for. How often had she thought no other man would ever compare to him after their little ruse ended? Still, she had to know. So she swallowed a bit uncertainly and then asked, “Do you love me, Greg?”

“I adore everything about you, and I do care for you, Bella.” He frowned slightly. “But I’m not certain if I’m capable of love anymore. I fear I’m too scarred for that.”

Her heart ached at hearing those words. Could she marry a man she loved if he didn’t necessarily feel the same for her? If I end up married to a courteous man, that’s all I require. Was it all she required? What if she walked away from Greg and never found love again? What if she ruined the one shot she had at happiness because he might not be capable of loving her back? What if Grandfather insisted she marry Johann or arranged for her to marry someone equally unappealing if she cried off from this betrothal? She’d be a giant fool if she walked away from Greg, especially since she did love him. “But you want to marry me anyway?”

She shouldn’t ask that. She should just accept his offer and be relieved that she never had to worry about her future.

Greg lifted her hand to his lips, his green eyes boring into hers as he kissed her knuckles. “If you’ll have me. And if you think you could give Rufford Hall a chance. I think we could be very happy together.”

Of course he wanted to leave Town, he’d never even really wanted to be here in the first place. Bella did love being with him, and she thought she would be happy as his baroness, even if he never completely loved her. But he adored her. He said he did. She could live with adoration, couldn’t she? “I think I’d like that.”

And she might adore Rufford Hall, especially if her grandfather wouldn’t be allowed entrance.

Greg grinned and looked so handsome doing so. “In that case—” he tugged her onto his lap “—I think a kiss, or a number of them, is called for.”

“Greg!” she giggled in surprise. Goodness! Cordie had just stumbled upon them. Someone else could walk by and see her sprawled across his lap. “I am supposed to paint you today.”

“We’ll do that too, but first...” He pressed his lips to hers once more.

And any thought, any objection she had, evaporated right into nothingness.

* * *

God, Greg could get lost kissing her. She felt so perfect, so very right in his arms, and he never wanted to let her go. She kissed him back, her enthusiasm making up for any lack of experience. Yes, yes, they were going to get along rather well in the years to come. He had no doubt about that.

She shifted slightly on his lap and Greg’s cock ached for more. God in heaven, she was so sweet, so innocent, the most tempting of bundles. If he could just…

Greg cupped her breast.

Bella sucked in a breath at his touch, but she didn’t move away from him. Thank God for that as she felt more than perfect in his hand, soft and feminine. He squeezed her again, hating the muslin of her dress and wishing she was bared for him to gaze upon, to touch, to taste.

Greg groaned against her lips. How in the world was he going to wait until their wedding night?

Damn it all. If they didn’t stop now, he’d never be able to. So he broke their kiss, though his eyes landed on her lips and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. “I…um…” he began though his heavy breaths. “I think you’d better paint me now or we’ll be in trouble.