Nick stared up at the branch of the old oak and couldn’t quite comprehend it had been less than a month since he’d gazed up into Mina’s gold brown eyes and been completely lost. Or maybe he’d always been lost and that was the moment he’d been found.

Meeting her had changed everything.

He could take a knife and separate his life between the hours before that meeting and those after. Whether anyone could see it by looking at his mangled face or not, something in him had changed. A great deal, in fact.

For one thing, his feelings about Enderley had changed. The place would forever hold some of his worst memories, but now there were good ones too. Like every moment he’d spent inside its walls with Mina.

He saw now that he could do his duty and not allow the past destroy any future good he might do for the estate and its people. Mina had done her best to show him why it mattered to do what was right, to be benevolent, and little by little he was beginning to understand.

Since meeting Mina, his heart troubled him every single day. Throbbing and aching and pounding like a gambler’s tell every time she was near. He’d deadened the organ so well over the years, he’d rarely noticed its working in over a decade. Now he sensed its pangs and yearnings constantly.

Ever since that damnable day under this tree, with Mina dangling from a branch above his head and her cat glaring down at him.

He turned back toward the estate, settled his arse on the cold ground, and watched as smoke billowed from the tower. Shoving his hands in his pockets for warmth, his fingers tangled with satin. He pulled out Mina’s ribbon and stroked his thumb up and down the pink strip of fabric.

Was this truly all he’d have of her when he went back to London? A strip of ribbon and memories that would haunt him the rest of his days?

Burning the tower didn’t bring the peace it should have. Oh, the ribbons of gray curling up into the sky gave him a measure of satisfaction, but nothing would ever feel right again without Mina.

He watched the burning tower until his eyesight blurred, then swept his gaze across Enderley’s rear facade. The window panes glittered in the sunlight, the stones gilded in the early morning glow.

Then he saw a figure rush past the ground floor windows, slip in the grass, and continue on toward the burning tower.

He made out brown trousers, black boots, and long waves of chestnut hair.

Mina.

Nick scrambled to his feet and flew down the rise, breaking into a run when he hit flat ground. He shouted her name, but she didn’t seem to hear. She kept on toward the tower.

He stretched into a longer gait until he was so close he swiped for arm. “Mina, stop.”

She slowed just enough for him to catch up. He nearly plowed over her but stopped behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Her hands came up to dislodge him.

“Let me go.”

“Stubborn woman.” Nick came around to face her, planting himself between her and the tower. “Are you mad?”

“The cat might be in there.” She immediately tried to barrel past him, and he caught her again.

“What bloody cat?” But he knew as soon as he asked. The orange ball of fury. They’d come as a pair that first day. “Mina, I promise you she’s not in the tower. I went inside. There was nothing, just old rotting furniture.”

“But we can’t find her.” She kept pushing at him, attempting to twist out of his grasp. “Tobias says she goes in sometimes.”

Tobias was striding across the grass toward them.

“Did you find her?” Mina called back to him.

Nick glared at the young man, willing him to tell her they’d found the cat merrily slurping milk in the pantry. Anything to stop her from storming into a burning tower.

“No sign of her, miss.” Tobias didn’t get the intended message.

Mina lunged, nearly breaking free. Nick bent at the waist, swept a hand behind her knees and lifted her in his arms. He walked toward Tobias.

“Take her. Hold on to her. If she makes it anywhere near that tower, you’re sacked. Understand?” Nick settled Mina into Tobias’s arms gently. “I’ll get the bloody cat.”

“Nick, no.” She stopped struggling and went quiet, eyes wide.

He turned his back on her and strode toward the smoldering structure. Most of the smoke was billowing skyward, but some poured out of a gap in the lower stones. The closer he got, the more he could feel the fire’s heat. At the base of the stairs, he lifted his arm to cover his nose and peered inside.

The lower stairs were singed, but still in place. It seemed the fire had rushed upward quickly and focused on consuming the single room where he’d been imprisoned.

If the cat was inside, there was no chance of saving her. The wind shifted, pushing smoke into his eyes. He took one step closer.

“Millicent?” Cats were notorious escape artists, but he couldn’t imagine where a feline might hide in this blaze. “Milly?”

An orange flash caught his eye and he leaned in to get a closer look. Only a flame, dancing along the edge of a sizzling wooden beam. Then the beam shifted, split, sparks and fiery fragments raining down. He stepped back, but burning rafters came down too quickly, and a searing pain lit his face on fire. A hot weight struck his shoulder hard, pushing him back against the heated stones. He swiped at his face and staggered back.

“Nick!” Mina’s scream filled his ears.

But he couldn’t see. Smoke and soot blurred his vision. Arms came around him from behind as he fell. Massive hands locked under his arms and his boot heels bounced on the ground as he was dragged into the grass.

Part of his shirt was wrenched off. He heard fabric tearing. Then a wet cloth came down on his eyes.

Mina’s hand slid into his. He recognized the shape of her fingers, the softness of her skin.

Nick reached up to pull the rag away. He could see, but through bleary clouded vision, and his eyes burned. “Mina? The cat wasn’t up there.”

“I know,” she told him through tears. “They found her. She’d snuck into the kitchen. I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?”

Every breath burned. A searing pain raged in his cheek. His arm ached, especially near his shoulder. But most of all he felt relief. He reached for Mina, traced his fingers across her cheek and left a sooty trail everyplace he touched.

“I love you.” He wasn’t sure if he said the words aloud. His throat burned as if he’d swallowed an ember.

Mina leaned forward, swept her fingers through his hair, lowered her mouth to his. “I knew you did,” she whispered against his lips.

“We should get him inside,” Tobias insisted. “I’ve sent Emma to fetch the doctor.” When the stable master bent as if he meant to scoop Nick off the ground, he pushed at the man’s massive shoulder.

“I can walk on my own.” He wasn’t sure that was true, but he was damn well going to try.

“You’re not going anywhere without me.” Mina lifted his arm and ducked underneath, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Promise?”

She nodded as they started toward the house. “You do know how stubborn I am.”

Thankfully, they didn’t bother with attempting to get him up the stairs. The staff had prepared one of the sitting room settees as a makeshift bed, with sheets and a pillow laid out.

Mina helped him hobble to the edge and he slumped down, trying to ignore the pain, struggling to get air without every breath feeling as if shards of glass were lodged in his chest.

When Mina loosened her hold on his hand, he pulled her back.

“I’m just going for some water and cloths to clean you up.” Her gaze kept flickering to his cheek. The one that burned like hell. The one his father hadn’t sliced with a penknife.

“Now I’ll be a monster on both sides of my face.”

She bit her lip. He could tell she was fighting tears. “You’ll never be a monster to me.” One last squeeze of his hand and she let him go.

When she was gone, Nick laid his head back and closed his eyes. It seemed only a moment, but when he opened them again, the sky was dimmer but for the glow of a fiery orange sunset through the windows.

His face felt tight and constricted, and he reached up to find he’d been bandaged. Not just his cheek, but his arm too. How the hell had he slept through all of it?

“You’re awake.” A white-haired gentleman stood up from a chair across the room and approached. “I took the liberty of giving you a bit of laudanum for the pain, Your Grace.” The man was strangely familiar.

“Where’s Mina? Miss Thorne.”

“Just there.” The doctor pointed to a settee in the corner of the room. “She’s been quite insistent about keeping watch over you.”

She was half sitting, half leaning on her folded arms, her chin tipped down as she napped. Then, as if sensing his gaze, her eyes fluttered open, and she offered him a beaming smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” He was ready to take on the devil himself if he could get her to smile at him that way again.

“Then I shall be off,” the doctor said as he turned to collect a leather bag from a table near the settee. “I’ve left instructions with the staff for treating your wounds.”

Nick touched the edge of the bandage on his face. “What’s under here, Doctor?”

The old man held two fingers up, one an inch or so from the other. “A burn, about that length. A cinder must have struck you and remained on your skin long enough to leave its mark.” The man’s eyes assessed Nick’s face, tracing the line of his father’s blade. “There will be a scar, but it will fade in time.”

“Thank you, Dr. Burke.” Mina stood and escorted the gentleman to the sitting room threshold. When he was gone, she came back and settled her backside on the edge of the settee near Nick’s thigh.

He wrapped a hand around her waist, savoring her nearness. Sliding a hand up her arm, he pulled her closer, leaning in to take her mouth. He wasn’t gentle. He couldn’t do this with any kind of gentlemanly restraint. Her hair hung down her back, unbound but for a few strands pulled into pins. He sought those pins and worked them free. Dragging his fingers through her hair, he flicked his tongue against her lips, and she opened to him on a delicious moan.

He was hard and ready to have her climb into his lap, let him sink inside her heat.

But someone cleared their throat on the sitting room threshold, and Mina sprang away from him.

“Will you be wishing for a supper tray, Your Grace?” Emma called in her soft voice.

“No,” Nick answered immediately. The only thing he wanted to taste was Mina.

“Yes,” she protested. “You should eat something.”

He arched a brow, failed to hide his smile, and she seemed to take his meaning. Her cheeks bloomed with heat.

“Some soup, perhaps? Thank you, Emma.”

The young woman backed out of the room and had the good sense to pull the door shut behind her. But when Nick leaned in to kiss Mina again, she held him back.

“Wilder tells me you planned to depart for London today.” She wrapped her fingers around a button on his shirt, not meeting his gaze. “Will you mind staying at Enderley a bit longer? A few weeks?”

“With you?” Nick’s throat rasped, but it wasn’t the smoke he’d inhaled. It was fear.

“Yes,” she said simply. Too simply.

“Yes?”

“That’s the answer I should have given you three days ago.” She scooted closer, cupping his scarred cheek against her palm. “I’m sorry I made you wait. I’m sorry I made you go in that tower. I’m sorry for ever making you think I cared more about Enderley than you.”

“We can stay here if you want.” Nick grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. “My hatred of this house was irrational. My father is dead, and you’re right. This estate is the people who live here, the ones who love it.”

“But, you see, I’m prepared go to London.” She let out a low seductive chuckle when he pulled her fingertip into his mouth. “If you’re in the city, that’s where I want to be. If you’re here, that’s where I’ll stay.” Her eyebrows dipped, her chin hardened, and her voice went mock stern. “I insist we never live apart.”

“Already making demands, Duchess?” Nick leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. “I agree. Anything you want, tell me.”

“Just you.” Mina kissed his scarred cheek, the edge of his mouth near his bandaged cheek, and then his lips. A soft, delicious kiss that was over far too quickly. “The house, the club, all of that will fall into place, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” She made him want a life he wouldn’t have imagined a month earlier. Made him believe happiness, contentment, peace was in their grasp. “But honestly, right now I can’t think of anything but locking that door, removing every stitch of your clothing, and making love to you on this settee.”

“Your wounds.”

“Nothing hurts when you’re this close to me.”

Her hand was balanced on his thigh as she leaned into him. Nick shifted her palm over an inch.

“I promise you, Duchess, I feel quite up to the task.”