Richard entered the exclusive gentlemen’s club on St. James Street late that afternoon. Brooks’s was a popular establishment for lords, including the Prince Regent.

The man for whom Richard searched was the third of the suspects he’d been watching who could possibly be Le Sournois. He had many relatives in France, several of whom made no secret of their support of Bonaparte.

Lord Ruthford had plenty of funds but didn’t spend them outrageously. He travelled back and forth from France often, and many of his meetings there had been with known spies, but those men also had other interests in common with Ruthford.

In other words, Richard had no proof.

He intended to take a straightforward approach with Ruthford. He was going to buy the man a drink and talk to him.

Richard came upon Ruthford before he'd even passed through the first room of the club. He didn’t know whether that was a positive omen or a bad one. “Lord Ruthford, hope the day finds you well.”

“Indeed. And you, eh, Aberland?” The lord rose to greet him, reaching out to shake his hand. Ruthford had passed forty years and already had a head full of grey hair.

The firm grip and general pleasure on his face at seeing Richard dulled his suspicions, but he wasn’t about to forget those meetings Ruthford had attended.

“Mind if I join you?” Richard asked.

“Not at all. I understand congratulations are in order.”

“Yes. Word spreads quickly of such things.”

Ruthford chuckled as Richard signaled a servant to get them drinks. “I find it fascinating just how quickly.”

“Haven’t seen you much of late,” Richard commented after the servant returned and they’d discussed the mandatory topic of the weather. Fog and rain had settled over London the past two days and, although the weather was typical for this time of year, no one was pleased with it. “Been travelling?”

“Just returned from France three days ago.”

Richard could hardly believe his luck. Ruthford’s response provided the perfect opening. “That’s a dangerous place to visit these days.”

“It’s easier for those of us with family there. I’m familiar with the area and know which places to avoid. I often stay with my uncle when I go.”

“Seems a strange time to visit with a war going on.”

“My uncle has been ill. They didn’t expect him to live, so I hurried over only to find him on the mend. Don’t think the old man will ever die. That French food causes him problems. All those meals covered in sauce.” He waved a hand. “Too rich for my digestion.”

“It’s not so bad if you have a fine wine with which to wash it down.”

“They have plenty of those.”

“And plenty of pretty women as well.” Richard introduced the subject to see how Ruthford reacted. He had no doubt that Maria’s position in Le Sournois’s life had been replaced. He used women like most men used horses. They served a purpose to a larger goal.

Ruthford snorted. “French women are nothing but trouble. I learned that long ago. There was this one woman, Eloise.” He shook his head. “Trouble from start to end, especially when the wife found out.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Terribly. Mistresses are often not worth the effort.” Ruthford leaned forward, as if to share a confidence. “Life is much better when your wife is your mistress, if you know what I mean.”

Caroline filled Richard’s mind, soft and warm, clever and bright—filled with unexpected passion. He’d have no need for a mistress with Caroline in his bed. Even the thought of her and those damned intriguing green eyes had his blood heating.

“Ah,” Ruthford said with a smile. “I believe you know exactly what I mean.”

He didn’t answer. As Ruthford suggested, things were complicated—in every aspect of both their real and pretend relationship.

Richard had thought Caroline a cool and reserved individual at first, but now he was convinced her demeanor had more to do with a cautious nature and a certain amount of shyness.

The difficulty he had controlling his feelings when she was near concerned him. Especially when thoughts of her distracted him from his mission. It seemed as if each day his memory of Dumond’s face became less clear.

Guilt seeped through him. With renewed determination, he turned to Ruthford to find the answers for which he was looking.

~*~

Caroline searched the crowd at the ball Lord and Lady Ponroy were holding the following evening, hoping to see Richard. Then again, if she waited patiently, he would eventually find her. He seemed to have an uncanny knack for locating her at these functions regardless of the size of the crowd. The thought put a little smile on her face that she couldn’t suppress.

“Do stop craning your neck, Caroline,” her mother berated. “For whom are you searching?”

“Aberland, of course,” Annabelle replied on her behalf with a knowing look at Caroline. “I believe she’s becoming quite enamored with him.”

“He said he’d be here.” Caroline couldn’t explain the restlessness that filled her this evening. She was convinced she’d feel better once Richard appeared.

“Then I’m sure he will,” her mother reassured her. “Despite his reputation as a rogue, I have no doubt that he’s a man of his word.”

Caroline looked at her in surprise. “Truly?”

“Of course.”

Hearing her mother confirm her own opinion of him confused Caroline all the more. He pretended to be nothing more than a cynical rogue, yet his admirable traits outweighed his reputation. She’d spent much of the previous day analyzing her feelings, certain that if she could label them, understanding would follow, and surely that meant she’d be better able to control them.

His kind regard toward her father tugged at her heart even more than his kindness toward her did. She admired the way he’d redirected her father’s attention, calming him before her father became too agitated.

Perhaps what concerned her the most was the reason he bothered to do so. Richard might enjoy kissing her, but she didn’t believe he cared for her. Up until two days ago, he’d seemed as reluctant as she was to settle the details of their wedding.

Did he regret her actions in Stafford’s library that had forced them to move forward with the wedding plans? Had he also hoped they could call off their engagement?

“Good evening.”

Caroline turned at the familiar male voice but knew it didn’t belong to the man she most wanted to see. How surprising to realize the breathless excitement she used to feel when the Duke of Wayfair made an appearance had vanished. She curtsied. “How nice to see you, my lord.”

She studied Wayfair as he greeted her mother and sister. Had her previous feelings for him only been a result of her hope to save her family?

The idea had her swallowing hard. That meant they weren’t feelings at all. How mercenary of her. The realization made her wonder all the more at what was between Richard and her.

Wayfair stepped closer to Caroline as he glanced about the room. “I heard a disturbing rumor.”

“Oh?” She’d thought about this moment at length, dreading it, worried what he must think of her.

But as she watched him, she realized a most surprising thing—she felt nothing other than being uncomfortable. She’d never really noticed before how his shoulders sloped slightly. They weren’t nearly as broad as Richard’s. The button of his waist coat threatened to pop off. His lips were rather narrow and his complexion pale.

Yet it was more than that. As she thought back over the few times they’d actually had a conversation, not one memorable moment came to mind.

How terrible that she’d been so focused on his position as a duke and his considerable fortune that she hadn’t truly looked at the man or listened to him. She’d thought him perfect.

Richard had changed her taste in men.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t a good thing. Attraction might be a pleasant benefit but financial security was what truly mattered, at least to her.

“I heard it said that you’d become engaged.” The duke shifted to hold her gaze.

She waited a moment to see if regret filled her, but still it didn’t come. “Yes, to the Earl of Aberland.”

“Allow me to offer my sincerest congratulations.” He bowed his head briefly.

“Thank you.” She considered offering some sort of explanation, but what could she say?

“I must say I am quite disappointed at the news.”

“Oh?” She smiled politely, uncertain what would be an appropriate response. Did he realize how uncomfortable his comment made her?

“I’d thought we had an...understanding.”

Caroline felt the weight of her mother’s regard. No doubt she wondered of what they were speaking. Caroline didn’t know for certain. What was Wayfair about? While she’d hoped he’d propose, he hadn’t. His comments now didn’t mean he’d offer for her if she ended her engagement with Richard. The idea of having to consider that impossible choice had her swallowing hard. “Sometimes circumstances change unexpectedly.”

“They do indeed. More often than one anticipates.”

What did that mean? Caroline couldn’t begin to guess.

“Speaking of unexpected,” the duke continued, “I find myself in a bit of difficulty. I’m not certain who else I can trust.”

Though flattered at his comment, she grew more uneasy by the moment. Where was he taking the conversation now? Then again, she wasn’t certain she wanted to know.

“I wonder if you’d consider doing me a small favor.”

Asking a favor of a woman not a relative was inappropriate. She glanced at her mother, who was speaking with an acquaintance. “I’m sorry but I don’t think I could assist you.”

He stepped even closer, causing the scent of onions to drift her way. It took all her resolve not to place her gloved hand under her nose.

“I heard concerning news about your father.”

Caroline stared at the lord, confused by the sudden change in topic. The mention of her father sent a shiver of unease through her. “Of what sort?”

“Someone appears to be spreading the most terrible rumors.”

Her stomach dropped. “What sort of rumors?”

“That his mental fortitude is not what it used to be. It’s a shame, really. A man like him no longer able to run his business.”

“I don’t know to whom you’ve been speaking, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.” Caroline hoped her outrage covered the tremble in her voice.

“Calm yourself, Miss Gold. I mean no offense. I’m only sharing what I heard. Because of our friendship, I felt I owed it to you to tell you what others are saying.”

She turned to face him in full, her body shaking. If this was how he treated a “friend,” she had no desire to learn what he did to his enemies.

This was her worst nightmare. Before she could form a response, the duke gave her a knowing smile.

“I would hate for those rumors—or is it the truth?—to spread further. I understand there’s a certain offer from the East India Company involved.”

Dear heavens. To whom had he been speaking? She’d be horrified if word of her father’s failing mind spread. No one would do business with him. He’d lose all he’d worked so hard for. All chances of recovering some of their lost wealth would be gone. Heaven knew if the ton would find their position sympathetic or scandalous. Her family would truly be ruined. Her sisters might never make good matches.

She couldn’t allow any of that to occur. “What sort of favor do you need?” she asked at length.

There was that smile again. How had she never realized the cruelty it held? She’d had a narrow escape when she’d become engaged to Richard.

“It’s a simple task, truly. Nothing as unsavory as you seem to think. I need a rare book delivered to a bookshop and exchanged for another. I can’t trust such an important task to a servant who has no knowledge of such things.”

Doubt rolled through her. While it seemed a straightforward errand, his method of convincing her to assist him suggested otherwise. As if none of the men in his acquaintance would do it. She didn’t pretend to understand, but what choice did she have? She had to protect her family.

“When?”

He took her hand in his, and it was all she could do not to jerk it away. “On the morrow, if it pleases you.”

“Of course.” Now she needed to find out who was talking about her father’s health. That seemed as impossible as restoring her family’s fortune.

~*~

The sight of Wayfair speaking to Caroline sent Richard’s blood boiling. He drew a deep breath, then another. Still he didn’t calm.

It wouldn’t do to make a scene in public, but the idea of punching the man squarely in that confident jaw appealed on many levels.

Richard had eliminated Ruthford from his list of those he suspected of being Le Sournois after their lengthy conversation. Of the two men remaining, Wayfair seemed the most likely. If only he had proof, he could make certain the duke never spoke to Caroline—or anyone else—again. But until that time, he needed to act like a rational human being.

That didn’t mean he’d allow the man to touch Caroline. While he might not be certain if he wanted Caroline, he didn’t want Wayfair to have her. She was far too good for him.

He strode through the crowd, not looking at anyone, keeping his eyes on his fiancée. Perhaps if he focused on her, he wouldn’t draw blood this evening.

“Caroline.”

Her gaze swung to him. What he saw in the depths of her eyes confused him. If he didn’t know better, that was fear. What possible reason could she have to fear the duke?

In an instant, it was gone, leaving him to wonder if he’d been mistaken. His protective instincts had him taking her hand to tuck it under his arm, keeping her firmly against his side.

“Wayfair.” He leveled a look at the duke to clearly tell him he wasn’t welcome near Caroline.

“Aberland. Congratulations on your recent engagement. I must say it was a bit of a surprise.”

“To you, perhaps. I was delighted when the lady accepted my proposal.” Richard held Caroline’s gaze for a moment before glancing back at the duke. “He who hesitates...” With a lift of one shoulder, Richard turned and walked away with Caroline.

“I’m very pleased to see you, my lord,” Caroline said, the tension in her body easing as they moved toward the refreshment table.

“What was that all about?”

She bit her lower lip, a sign of her uncertainty. Didn’t she know she could trust him? Then again, why would she? He’d done little to prove his worthiness to her.

“I’m not quite sure, but I didn’t care for it.”

He paused mid-stride to study her closer. “Do I need to have a word with the man?”

“No need.” She offered a forced smile. “All is well now that you’re here.”

Something tugged deep inside him at her comment. Did that mean she felt some kind of affection for him?

He mentally berated himself. One moment he told himself to shift his focus away from her and remember his mission. The next he was convinced she had no reason to trust him. Then he wondered if she had feelings for him. He felt as though he’d spun in a circle, uncertain which direction he should go.

Was it any wonder he’d set aside emotions years ago? They only clouded one’s judgment.

“Tell me, my lord. Do you know anything about timber?”

He retrieved two glasses of lemonade and handed one to her. “Timber? In what respect?”

Again she bit that lower lip. He wished he’d earned her trust enough that she’d tell him what held her thoughts.

“Never mind. I was merely jesting.”

But he didn’t think she was. Though he remained determined to find vengeance for Dumond, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would take for her to share some of her secrets.

What caused him concern was how much he wanted her to realize she could rely on him.