“I’ve never seen you like this.”

Jonathan turned toward Godric, not sure what he meant. Whenever he looked into his older brother’s face, it was like looking into a mirror except for his hair, which was far lighter than that of his older sibling. They even shared the same green eyes. How had neither of them realized they were brothers for nearly twenty-five years? The answer was painfully simple, he supposed. Godric was the Duke of Essex. Why on earth would Jonathan have even considered the possibility he was related to a duke? Or any noble house, for that matter?

“Like what?” he said at last.

“In such a fit of the blue devils.”

Jonathan stared at the gardens through the wide window of the drawing room. “I don’t wish to discuss it.” He’d gotten used to talking to Godric about almost everything, but admitting to his failures? That was not something any man wanted to talk about.

“It’s Audrey, isn’t it? Lucien mentioned last night that you were undecided about her.”

“I’m not undecided. That’s the problem.” He sighed heavily. If Godric wasn’t going to let it drop, he might as well admit the truth. “I want her for a wife, but she thinks I’m cold and arrogant and told me in no uncertain terms she doesn’t ever want to marry.”

His brother’s bark of laughter grated on his ears. What was so amusing about his misfortune?

“Not want to marry? Surely you jest. The little chit has talked of nothing else since she turned sixteen.” He started to speak in a high-pitched voice. “‘Oh, Cedric, be sure not to scare off my beaus. I so want to be married!’ Not that he ever listened, mind you.”

Jonathan smiled begrudgingly. He remembered all too well the beautiful young woman who’d set her cap for him last year. “Well, she’s changed.”

“I doubt that.” Godric chortled and joined his brother at the window. “That woman has had eyes for you since the moment she met you. That sort of desire doesn’t change, not so fast as you might think. She must have a bee in her bonnet. Lord knows what, but don’t let that chase you off. She wants you, you want her. Remind her of that.”

Jonathan hadn’t forgotten how he’d spent a restless night in bed with her, holding her in his arms. It had been too perfect, a sign from above that she would fit perfectly in his bed and in his life. But he’d been unable to touch her or try to coax the passions that he hoped lay within her. He’d made a vow, after all. Having her leave that morning had been both a relief and a disappointment. Had he returned to bed and she was still there, he wasn’t sure he could have kept his word. She was too great a temptation. But he’d found her note, reminding him that they would start their lessons soon.

Had he really thought it a good idea to teach her to fight? He could hurt her if he wasn’t careful, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

I’ve made a bloody mess of all of this. Teaching a woman to defend herself isn’t romantic. It won’t help woo her. I should have thought of something more clever.

“Jon, all is not lost. You can still win her.”

Jonathan was afraid to explain to his brother his true fear, that he wasn’t good enough for Audrey. That even if they shared a passion together, his humble beginnings would always loom over his head. He’d been at more than one ball where men and women had snickered that he’d gone from polishing fine boots to wearing them, without knowing he could hear them. He didn’t want Audrey to be the laughingstock of London because of his past. Even if he was the legitimate son of a duke, it didn’t mean that society saw him that way.

Godric placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “You cannot give up. Take my advice as a man who once refused to trust in love. I almost lost Emily because of it. If you cannot do without Audrey, then you have to fight to the ends of the earth for her, even if it means fighting the doubts within your own heart.”

Jonathan’s throat tightened. He opened his mouth to speak, but his butler stepped into the drawing room.

“Beg your pardon, sir, but Lord Pembroke wishes to see you.”

Jonathan cleared his throat. “Show him in.”

“Don’t give up, brother.” Godric gave Jonathan another pat on the shoulder before they turned around to see James Fordyce enter.

Godric shook James’s hand. “Pembroke, how the devil are you?”

“I’m well, Your Grace, and you?” James turned a smile toward Godric, then turned pale at the sight of Jonathan.

Not a surprise. I must look terrible. He had a dreadful black eye, and it still visibly pained him to move. Godric nudged his brother in the arm, careful not to hurt his ribs. Jonathan had told him everything, of course. After his brother had stopped laughing, he’d been quick to tell him what a fool he’d been for not summoning the League for help.

“Good, good,” said Godric. “Offering my brother a bit of advice on women. He’s still a young pup.”

“Not so young,” Jonathan snorted.

“Yes, well, you’re young enough to know not to just take what you want.”

“Indeed. Some ladies object to being carried off,” Jonathan chided. “Your wife most certainly did.”

“Yes, wives object at first. But that’s how you make them wives, when they’re objecting.”

Jonathan and James shared a look. “How’s that for circular logic, eh?”

Godric shrugged. “It worked for me, and it will work for you. Trust me, I know that little sprite too well. She won’t sit around waiting for a proposal. You can ask for forgiveness later.”

“You don’t know her as I do. I won’t live long enough to seek forgiveness if I cross her.” He sighed and shook his head.

Godric cleared his throat and grinned. “Well, I understand you two had an interesting night.”

“Yes, we did. But it is not my place to say more about it.” James’s discretion was a credit to his character. Although he and Jonathan were newly acquainted, Jonathan liked the man immensely. And after last night he was glad to count him as a friend.

Although Jonathan had been brought into his brother’s circle of friends, he still felt like an outsider at times. It was understandable, though. What Godric and the others had gone through at university had forged a bond between them no man could break, except perhaps for Hugo Waverly. That man was out for blood, and Jonathan knew with dreadful certainty that the past and his brother’s secrets—the League’s secrets—would someday catch up with all of them.

Godric smiled at James. “As much as I’d like to stay, I best be getting back to my wife. She’s most insistent we discuss nursery plans.”

James’s open joy was evident, as was his amusement. “You are expecting?”

“Yes.” Godric actually turned red. His frightening, brooding elder brother was settling down as an expectant father, something none who knew him could have predicted. “Next winter. The baby will be born in January.”

James slapped Godric on the shoulder. “My congratulations, then! Lady Essex must be thrilled.”

“We both are. But damned if her delicate condition hasn’t stopped her from causing trouble. Lord, Emily has a knack for that.”

Trouble? His brother’s wife was certainly that. “Emily’s middle name is trouble. She almost got me shot. By my own brother.”

“Because you tried to seduce her.”

“Well I didn’t know she was in love with you. Can’t blame a man for trying when he thinks he has a chance.” Jonathan winked, unable to resist teasing his brother a little.

Godric crossed his arms. “Yes, well she’s happily married now—to me. And you have your own wife to catch.”

“Catch indeed,” Jonathan muttered. Catching Audrey was going to be one hell of a challenge.

“Why don’t you join us for drinks at Berkley’s tonight?” Godric suggested to James.

“I’d be happy to,” James replied. The two nodded in agreement as Godric departed, leaving James and Jonathan alone.

Jonathan’s shoulders dropped as he exhaled. Lord, he was exhausted after last night’s battle. All he’d wanted was to hold Audrey in his arms this morning, but she’d slipped through his fingers once again. He hadn’t been surprised, but he had been disappointed.

“So, last night,” James said quietly. “How the devil did you find out about that hellfire club?”

Jonathan’s lips twitched. “I could ask the same of you. I keep a close eye on Miss Sheridan. She’s always in the midst of something dangerous.” In some ways she was even more trouble than Godric’s wife. As Lady Society, Audrey put herself in danger every time she published a new article. And how long she could retain her anonymity now was in question.

“You know then that—?” James started.

“She’s Lady Society? Yes, I discovered that an hour before we ended up at that infernal club.” Well, the truth was he’d only had vague suspicions that were confirmed after he’d arrived, but he felt foolish enough as it was without admitting to an extra layer of ignorance. “I went after her, but when I saw—” He cut himself off. He’d nearly said Gillian, but James couldn’t know that Gillian was Audrey’s maid.

Early on, when he’d learned of Audrey’s scheme to bring those two together, he’d made himself complicit in her plot by withholding Gillian’s identity as a lady’s maid. As a former servant, he understood the shame that sometimes came with being of the lower class, a shame they did not deserve but faced nonetheless. He would not be the man to ruin Gillian’s chance at happiness if she and James could find a way to be together. He just hoped Audrey knew what she was doing meddling behind the scenes.

He quickly recovered. “However, it seems we got out of there without much harm done. To us, at any rate.” A few broken ribs weren’t that bad, all things considered.

“Indeed…” James still looked hesitant. “Do you know Miss Beaumont?”

“Gillian? I mean yes.” Jonathan smiled. “I know Miss Beaumont.”

James’s eyes lit up. “What do you know of her? I’ve been trying to find out more, but no one seemed to know her, and Miss Sheridan wouldn’t reveal anything to me when I visited her before I came here.”

Be careful, he warned himself. “Oh, I mean I know her, but not in a way that would be helpful to you, I fear. How well does anyone know a person, really?”

James’s gaze hardened. “You were there with me in that club. She was there with Miss Sheridan. They were both in danger, and I don’t know why everyone is keeping quiet about Miss Beaumont.” He fisted his hands. “The woman is a bloody mystery, and it’s driving me mad with worry for her.”

Jonathan didn’t miss the intensity in the other man’s tone. “You like her, do you?”

James replied at once. “If I could find her, I’d likely ask her to marry me, but she keeps disappearing on me at every turn.”

Not unlike her mistress. Running off on missions or Lord knows what.

Jonathan laughed. He walked over to the table by the wall and grabbed the decanter of brandy, pouring two glasses and holding one out to James.

“Well, that’s something you have to get accustomed to. Women like her rarely sit still and certainly don’t waste time waiting around to be rescued. The best we can do is run to keep up.”

They remained silent for a while as they drank. Then James brightened. “Are you going the house party at Rochester Hall next week?”

“I hadn’t thought to go, but my brother was just there and convinced me that I should.” It sounded like a terrible idea. He felt completely out of place at social functions. He was much more accustomed to hiding in the shadows, which was understandable given his upbringing, but it was not a desirable trait given his current situation as a member of the ton.

James’s attitude turned somber. “Good, we can suffer together. Miss Sheridan said I am to be invited, but it has been a while since I’ve attended a house party.”

Jonathan had heard rumors about James’s mother, the Countess of Pembroke, how she was ill and James rarely left London for fear of not being there if she took a turn for the worse. He spent most of his nights at the Wicked Earls’ Club run by a fellow named Coventry, though it was said he only sought solitude there. A house party would do him good. It would do both them good, if he were being honest. Godric continued to remind Jonathan how much he needed to practice being out in society. To socialize and interact. As if that was easy.

The glass of brandy felt soothing in his palms as he rolled it. “Do you ever feel like you’re an outsider looking in on this world? Like your face is pressed to the glass? All you hear is muffled, and what you see is a bit blurred. And most maddening of all, you can’t get any closer?” He felt like a damned fool for confessing such a thing, but James’s reply was comforting.

“More than you know.”

We’re both lost in this world.

“Jonathan, tell me everything about Miss Beaumont. Please. I need to know.”

Pembroke was smitten indeed. He could sympathize. But there were ways he could give the man what he wanted without revealing everything. “I can tell you the small things- her favorite color, the way she takes her tea, her favorite books- but I cannot tell you much more than that. She has her reasons for her privacy.”

“So I’ve been told,” James grumbled. “Tell me everything you can.”

If they were going to discuss women, he wanted to keep busy; otherwise, he would worry too much about the bargain he had made with Audrey and whether she was brave enough to meet his terms. He nodded toward the door. “Very well, how about a game of billiards while we talk?”

James agreed, and the two of them departed for the billiard room. Jonathan hoped the game could help him forget for a time about his own problems with the troublesome Lady Society.