Mina hadn’t imagined anything could hurt as badly as the loss of her father. But this was worse, because Nick wasn’t gone. He was standing right in front of her, and yet he was so far away.

He couldn’t tell her that he loved her. In fact, he said nothing at all and only gave a tight twist of his head.

Tears threatened and she turned, desperate to compose herself. Blubbering wouldn’t help. Never let your struggles be known. Her father’s voice rang in her ears.

Then Nick’s voice, soft and deep. “I’ll give you everything I have, Mina. Please answer.”

She sniffed and faced him. “I am honored by your—”

“No. Don’t do that. No niceties between us. Tell me to go to hell, but spare me your politely couched rejection.”

“It’s not a rejection.”

“Then you’ll marry me?” His head snapped up.

An answer welled up inside her, like a living thing demanding to get out. Yes, yes. Marry a duke? Become a duchess when she had no claim to the title through breeding or blood? What woman wouldn’t embrace such a proposal with both hands?

But as perfect as the hours had been in Nick’s arms, something about this felt terribly wrong. As if he’d offered her a beautiful gilded box with nothing inside. A shell of what she truly wanted, with nothing at its heart. He proposed a marriage of separation. Living as wedded strangers, growing apart rather than getting to know each other better.

She couldn’t bear that sort of marriage. Not with Nick.

Her father’s voice intruded. Better one bird in hand than ten in the woods.

He’d liked aphorisms. Sayings he drilled into her head. All in an attempt to teach qualities he wished her to possess. There were so many lessons he’d hoped she might learn. One had to do with taking what was before you rather than wishing for more.

Now Nick stood in front of her, looking gorgeous in his rumpled, untucked shirt, with stubble shadowing his jaw, hope glowing in his extraordinary eyes. A duke of the realm who deigned to make an estate steward’s daughter his duchess. A man who was offering her Enderley, not as a place of duty, but as a home that was the only belonging she’d ever known.

And foolishly, selfishly, she wanted more.

“I don’t—”

A knock sounded at the door.

Nick stomped over and nearly ripped the thick slab of wood from its hinges. “What?”

“Your carriage is ready, sir.” Mr. Spencer kept his voice low. “Shall I send up a breakfast tray before you depart?”

“No.” Mina fought to keep her voice steady. “Thank you, but I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

Nick’s jaw worked back and forth. “We’ll be up directly.” He stared at the floor, speaking to both of them but unwilling to look either of them in the eyes.

When the club manager had gone, Nick slammed the door behind him. He kept his hand flat on the polished wood, his back to her.

“Don’t answer now,” he said roughly. “This is all very sudden.”

He tipped her a glance over his shoulder. A smile curved his mouth but didn’t touch his eyes.

“Neither of us planned what happened last evening. I want you to be sure, Mina. Take a couple of days to consider and give me your answer once we’re back at Enderley.”

“I didn’t think you’d go back.” The time he’d vowed to spend there was almost over, and Mina knew it was the last place he wished to be. “Why are you returning?”

“Because you are.” His lips trembled when he faced her again. There was a wobble in his chin that betrayed the coolness in his gaze. “Also, I’ve left commitments unfinished. Repair projects in the village and that bloody country dance I promised Mrs. Shepard I’d attend.”

“And will you attend Lady Claxton’s ball too?”

“I won’t go unless you do.” An inky brow winged up, and his grin slid into a smirk. He seemed to enjoy issuing the challenge, but he didn’t understand Barrowmere society as well as she did.

“I received no invitation to Lady Claxton’s ball. Nor would I ever. There’s no place for me in her circle.”

“There could be.” The look of challenge remained a moment longer, and then he approached. “I need to wash and prepare for our trip.”

The faded aroma of his cologne and unique scent of his skin made her mouth water. All Mina truly wished to do was reach for him. Feel his arms around her. Forget about words and return to the closeness they’d shared, intimacies she’d never imagined.

“Ring for coffee or tea or whatever you like.” He bent and brushed a soft kiss against her cheek. “I’ll be quick.”

He collected his waistcoat and boots before heading to the dressing room, and Mina rang for tea for both of them.

A short time later a servant brought a tray and departed, almost the same moment Nick emerged clean-shaven from the dressing room. Mina took her first sip of tea and tried not to gape. He’d donned a waistcoat the shade of peacock feathers. The color brought out the green and blue in his eyes.

“I poured you some tea.”

“Thank you.” His hand was shaking when he palmed the cup, lifted the dainty thing to his lips, and tipped the contents back in one gulp. “Shall we head off?”

There was a buzzing energy about him. Nervousness that heightened her own anxiousness. She didn’t know why she was in such a rush to return to the countryside. There’d be no private moments with him once they were back. At Enderley, their roles were defined. But she wasn’t quite sure where she belonged anymore.

Going back to just being his steward was unthinkable. Becoming his wife was more than she dared consider.

He’d slipped on gloves and extended a hand encased in black leather. “Ready?”

Mina took his hand as she got to her feet. “My ankle doesn’t trouble me anymore.”

“I’m glad.” The merest of smiles flickered across his lips. “We’ll depart through the side door,” he told her as they made their way down the sconce-lit hall. “Just this way.”

“You won’t show me the club before we depart?”

She’d been so eager to leave, and now a part of her dreaded going back. What they’d shared here was theirs alone, untouched by any of the memories he had of the estate, or any of the responsibilities she’d long felt to it and its people.

“Just a quick peek around the club?” That single glimpse the night before hadn’t been enough. He cared about Lyon’s. She wanted to see what he’d built, the enterprise he was so proud of.

“I’ll give you more than a peek.” Crooking an elbow, he offered his arm as if they were going on a morning promenade. After climbing the stairs they’d descended the night before, he led her toward the velvet draperies, but this time he didn’t stop.

“Where are we going?” Mina tightened her grip on his arm. Chatter ebbed, necks craned, dozens of men’s faces turned their way.

Mina heard hisses and whispers.

“Has he brought his whore to play?”

Nick made a guttural noise and lunged toward the man who’d made the comment. Mina wrapped both hands around his forearm to pull him closer.

He wielded his gaze like a weapon, freezing men mid-gape. Something in his eyes cut off men as they opened their mouths to comment.

After escorting her into the thick of the gamut, Nick stopped in the center of a dozen green felt-covered gaming tables. He directed her gaze up, pointing to the ceiling. “That may be my favorite part of the club.”

A stained-glass dome had been constructed atop the room, its panes constructed in bold, dramatic colors, like the rose window of a cathedral.

“In a few hours, when the club has emptied but for the staff, the sun reflects those colors onto the walls and floor.”

Mina realized he was no longer looking up and that his gaze was fixed on her face.

“There are no gray walls at Lyon’s.”

A month ago she would have defended Enderley from the veiled slight. Now she understood why a boy from a castle that offered him nothing but nightmares would build himself a colorful world far away from Sussex.

“It’s beautiful.” Some might call the excess of it garish, but Mina could see that every aspect of the club had been designed with care. Not that the gamblers around her seemed to notice. Those who weren’t still gawking at the two of them were staring intently as dice rolled or cards were shuffled in front of them. Their desperation was palpable, a wave of tension that seemed to touch every man in the room. Even those laughing or chatting did so at a higher, almost frantic pitch.

Only Nick oozed confidence. Until he looked her way. Then a flash of uncertainty came into his gaze.

“Would you like to quick tour of the upstairs?”

Mina looked up to the balustrade and receded walkway running around the perimeter of Lyon’s. “Your private balcony? Yes, please.” She understood that he wanted to show her the best aspects of the club, just as she’d hoped to highlight Enderley’s assets.

He led her to the stairwell tucked away at the edge of the club and lent her his arm as they made their way up. Once she stepped onto the plush carpet of the concealed balcony, she understood why it was a haven. It wasn’t quiet, the noises rose and echoed off the building’s glass dome, but the furnishings were comfortable, the chairs plusher, the settee deeper.

And when she stood at the balustrade’s edge, staring down at the desperate men below, she understood Nick a bit better. “You have enormous power over them.”

“For many years, I had none.” He came to stand next to her, so close that his arm and thigh brushed against hers.

“When you returned to London on your own?”

“Yes,” he said tightly.

He seemed to sense she wanted more and after a while he swallowed hard and began. “I had nothing. The clothes on my back, a few coins in my pocket.” He tugged at his ear and sighed. “I took food off vendor’s carts. I fought others for money. I did what I had to in order to survive.”

“And how did you get all this?” She stared down at the gilded columns and green baize-covered tables.

He tipped a grin her way. “Gambling. I’d never had any luck as a child, but I made up for it as a young man.”

“Do you still gamble?” Mina held her breath. She had meant gaming, but she sensed the depth of her question too. From the moment he’d arrived at Enderley, she’d hoped he would bet on the estate. Invest and refurbish. Now she wanted him to take another risk. With her.

“Never,” he said firmly, his gaze steady and determined as he watched the men below. “Gambling gives too much of a man’s power to fate. Waiting on the luck of the draw or the fall of the dice.” He glanced over at her and said in a low, husky voice, “I’ll never be powerless again.”

Mina said nothing more as he led her back down and they made their way

Mr. Spencer beckoned them toward a set of polished bronze doors. “Your carriage is ready, sir.”

Nick’s hand at the small of her back soothed Mina’s nerves as she headed toward the club’s entrance. London’s fog had cleared and the morning was so bright, she lifted a hand to shade her eyes.

“Tremayne,” a man shouted, not the same from the club. A young man, well into his cups, and tipping precariously toward them. “I have part of what I owe you.”

Nick urged Mina forward until they’d reached the carriage, then wrapped his hands around her waist to help her inside.

“Not now.”

“You’re returning to Sussex? To play duke? I wish to settle my debts, Lyon.” The man scuttled forward, tapping on the side of the carriage. “Call on me when you return to London.”

Nick positioned himself near the window and leaned out. “Let go of the door or the coachman will pull you under when we depart. Speak to my solicitor about settling your debt.”

With that, Nick knocked on the carriage wall and the driver set the horses into motion. The young man stumbled back, and Mina lost sight of him as they pulled into a line of carriages departing various enterprises on St. James Street.

“He gambles at your club?”

“Not anymore.” He straightened his perfectly straight necktie, rather than look at her.

“The gentleman seemed quite desperate.”

“He’s an awful gambler.” There was no menace in his tone, nor did he seem to take much pleasure in the fact. Which seemed odd for a gambling club owner who kept the money others lost.

“He behaved as if you hold his fate in your hands?”

“I hold his vowels. Dozens of them.” He wrenched his gloves off with a few swift tugs.

“Do you never forgive debts?”

“Why would I?” His gaze was sharp, defensive, then softened the longer he looked at her.

“Why not invest more of your money, as Mr. Iverson does?” Mina could appreciate the idea of a profitable business, but to watch men lose their wealth, their self-respect, their livelihoods. She couldn’t see the appeal.

“I do invest. Thanks to Iverson’s counsel, I usually do so wisely.” He drew in a long breath and let it out. “But I also earn money by lending to gamblers who’ve lost their funds and want to play on.”

“And they continue to lose?”

“Usually.”

“And then what?” Mina leaned forward, intrigued by how the process worked.

“Either they quit, which is rare, or they come downstairs and petition for a loan.” Nick’s jaw tightened and furrowed grooves appeared between his brows. “I require collateral, and often they lose what they promised. Noblemen become desperate when they lose.”

Mina sensed his unease. “It sounds miserable for everyone involved.”

“I used to enjoy it.” He quieted a moment.

“And now?”

“Something in me has altered.”

“For the better?” Mina’s throat tightened as she waited for his answer. She’d changed too. For the first time, she could imagine a life that had nothing to do with Enderley and duty. But now she also knew she couldn’t bear a future without love.

“For the better,” he repeated.

Mina smiled and settled back against the squabs as he watched her. An idea came, a wild, half-formed notion, that she couldn’t keep inside. “What if no one had to lose?”

In the soft glow of the carriage lamp, Mina saw the flash of his grin.

“A happy ending for all? Like in a fairy tale?”

“A much more practical ending.” Mina thought of Colin and the collection of guests at Mr. Iverson’s party. “What if the men, or women, for that matter, who came to petition you for funds had something to offer in return? An invention. An idea that could turn a profit?”

“My God, Iverson’s gotten to you, hasn’t he?” Nick leaned forward, a frown hardening the edge of his jaw. “Exactly how much time did you two spend together?”

“Not much.” Mina laughed. “But you’ve seen fit to assist the tenants in Barrowmere village. Why not the entrepreneurs of London?”

“I don’t know. I’ll consider it.”

Mina could sense his eagerness to be done with the topic. He turned toward the carriage window and watched intently, but there was little to see beyond an endless line of whitewashed townhouses.

The one topic that weighed on her mind was the one she didn’t know how to broach with him. They fell silent, so quiet she could hear his breath coming ragged and uneven. She counted the beats of her own heart, slamming heavily in her chest.

His profile was familiar now, but no less breathtaking. She had the urge to run a line with her fingertip from his brow to the tip of his nose to those delicious lips.

He seemed to sense her watching him and shifted on his bench. Turning away from the window, he subjected her to a slow perusal, from her boots to her waist, breasts, lips—all the places he’d kissed so attentively—and then back down her legs again.

“You’re sure your ankle is better?”

Mina nodded and bit her lip. She couldn’t bear two hours of being cool and polite to each other. “Nick—”

“This isn’t right, you know?”

“Tell me why you think so.” He felt it too. She didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

“You’re too far away.” He reached out a bare hand. “Last time we were in a carriage together, you were closer.”

Her body responded as if she was already there, in his lap.

Mina took his hand, and he pulled her up and across the space between them. Rather than sit across his lap, Mina ruched up her skirt and positioned her knees on either side of his thighs, so that they were face-to-face, chest to chest.

Sentiments bubbled up. Words she wanted to say, but she had no notion where to start. So she held him instead. Resting her head against his chest, she curled her fingers around his the edge of his waistcoat and listened to the strong, insistent beat of his heart.

This felt right. This she knew for certain. When he was in her arms, she had no more doubts. Fears faded. Some part of her knew.

This was where she was meant to be.