Evan wished he hadn’t slipped the note into the candied almond tin. Before he’d known how soundly Susanah would reject his suit, he’d penciled it on a sheet from the small notebook he carried to jot down information he’d need to know, an address, an appointment, Susanah’s list of where she found pleasure—for all the good that had done him.

He’d never stood a chance with her, more the fool was he. He’d known that from the beginning. She was determined to marry a man with a title, and he didn’t have one.

He should have told her that he would one day. But he shook his head at his folly. She wouldn’t care about a mere barony—no matter how old it was. Besides, he would only receive it if he outlived his uncle, cousin, and his mother.

He woke his manservant. “We’re leaving,” he told the man. “For good this time.”

“Very good, sir,” the man answered. “I’ll have the last of your things packed straight away.”

Because he didn’t want to wait, Evan carried his trunks and boxes down to load in the phaeton. It wasn’t a carriage meant for transporting a lot of baggage. He shoved things around until a few inches could be had for his and his man’s feet in front of the driver’s bench, but the back seat was packed to the seat rails. Any higher and they would risk toppling over while going around a corner.

A thousand things he should have said to convince Susanah to marry him rattled around his brain. She wouldn’t be happy married to Lord Farringate. Of that much he was certain. Although why he worried about her happiness when she wasn’t the least bit concerned about his baffled him. During the uncomfortable drive, he fretted and he fumed. Twice he turned the phaeton around. His long-suffering man endured most of it in silence until mid afternoon when he suggested the horses might be hungry and in need of a nap. Probably if grown horses were capable of nursing, he would have suggested they needed a teat. An equal would have been more direct in saying he was acting like a fussy brat.

Evan took the hint and found an inn where his man could get a meal, the carriage and horses could be stabled overnight, and he could drown in a tankard in the public room. He hadn’t wanted to marry her in the beginning, he consoled himself. But neither seven pints of ale, nor the fitful sleep reconciled him to the idea that he’d lost her. He was of half a mind to return to London, drive to her house, and demand to see her. But his bleary head and that he was now closer to his uncle’s house made him decide on the more prudent course and continue on to his uncle’s.

Gilbert plowed into him in the entry hall.

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” Gilbert said enthusiastically. Then he looked past Evan. “Did you get a wife?”

His throat suddenly too thick to allow words through it, Evan shook his head.

Gilbert goggled at him. “Why not?”

His cousin saw things simply, but the world was more complicated than that. Evan swallowed and tried to paste on a good face. He could have taken lessons from Lady Susanah in that. “The lady I asked to marry me said no.”

Gilbert appeared crestfallen. “Is it because of me?”

“It can’t be because of you,” Evan told him. “She doesn’t know you. She just didn’t want to marry me.” Or she wouldn’t marry a steward, under any circumstances.

“Why wouldn’t she want to marry you if you want to marry her?” Gilbert puzzled at that. “She must be a slowtop.”

“Quite possibly,” agreed Evan. She was a scheming, title-chasing, fool. Clearly, she was willing to sacrifice everything on the altar of ambition.

Gilbert grinned. “We’ll find you a better woman to be your wife.”

Except Evan didn’t want another woman—a strange thought for him. He had a deeper understanding of why his uncle married a woman he’d wanted to marry in his youth instead of marrying a woman more likely to give him a dozen children. Evan wrapped an arm around Gilbert’s shoulder. “Let’s go have a game of cards. Tomorrow when the horses are fresh, we’ll have a drive in the phaeton.”

“Can I drive?”

Evan shoved down any misgivings about allowing Gilbert to handle the reins. “You may if you keep the horses to a trot.”

“I can handle them,” Gilbert said mulishly. “Papa lets me drive the gig.”

“Yes, well a phaeton is easier to upset than a gig. I had to practice driving it so I didn’t tip it over. You can’t show me up your first time driving it.”

His sunny disposition restored, Gilbert’s smile returned. “I know how to play vingt-et-un now.”

The next few days passed at the much slower pace of country life. Except Evan kept watching for the post. He’d left his direction in the note he’d left for Susanah. Somehow he kept hoping for a letter in her overly precise handwriting. But word from her didn’t come in the way, he expected.

No, he received a letter from Hull asking what the devil was he about. Hull was about to lose a monkey on various bets against Lord Farringate taking a wife before the season was out. The banns had been read for Farringate and Lady Susanah.

It was a punch to the gut.

So much for Susanah not encouraging the Farringate. In order for the banns to be read on Sunday, she must have accepted Farringate’s offer on the day he left.

There was no hope that she would come to her senses and realize he would make her a much better husband. In less than a fortnight, she would be married to Farringate and he wanted to strangle Susanah for being so stupid.

* * *

Susanah’s father hadn’t wasted any time in summoning Lord Farringate to propose to her. She’d accepted as she was told. Only it was like she was shoved into some ancient torture press. Not that Lord Farringate had been unpleasant in any way. He was diligent of his courting in the way a fiancé should be, calling on her regularly, escorting her to events, and taking her on drives in the park. If he was somewhat less attentive to her and more likely to converse with her father, that was all to the good. Only her father wasn’t present on this drive in the park. Only his sister and daughter.

They were crossing through the gates of Hyde Park when Lord Farringate suggested that they get out and walk. His suggestion that they leave the carriage to walk alone surprised her. Although, they wouldn’t be truly alone as the park was filling up with the fashionable crowd.

She agreed, thinking this would be her chance to ask about his previous wives.

He handed her down, and they moved to the walking path as the landau with his sister and daughter drove on down Rotten Row.

“Are you looking forward to the wedding?” asked Lord Farringate as she tucked her hand into his elbow.

No. “Of course I am,” she answered with as much brightness as she could fake. Because what other answer could she give out loud? “I’m sure it will be a lovely event. Will your children attend?”

“Not all. Just the ones in town.”

“I am looking forward to meeting the rest of them.” She knew better than to quiz him on the names and ages of his children. He’d grown impatient with her questions. His daughter had to supply the information as if he couldn’t be bothered with knowing the names and ages of his children. Although, he’d been able to relay ages and names of his sons well enough.

Becoming a stepmother was not a task she felt suited to, but she was determined to give it her best effort. She hoped to be more of a friendly sort, like a sister, because she wasn’t old enough to have given birth to most of them. Away from her mother, she could be less rigid and warmer in her approach. No one would fault her for being kind to her stepchildren.

“Would you mind if I asked you a personal question?” she ventured.

His lips flattened. “I need to tell you of a few things. That is why I asked to walk alone with you.”

It wasn’t an answer, and she wasn’t encouraged. “Oh?”

“I’m afraid we won’t take a wedding trip.”

“I see,” she answered carefully. It would probably be better to not have to be alone with him for the duration of a wedding trip. “Will we go directly to your castle?”

“No.” He sighed.

“Should I not meet the rest of your family?”

He flashed her a dark look.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. But she kept the thin smile on her lips. “I am certain I will be content with wherever you decide we shall stay. I don’t care about a wedding trip. Travel can be overrated, but I was looking forward to seeing your home—our home and the children.”

Those were the things expected of a wife. That she would manage her husband’s home and his children whether they were hers or not.

“I have enough children,” he said gruffly. “And they don’t need another mother. Most of them are too old for a mother anyway.”

“Yes. But I do hope to get along famously with them.”

“Lady Susanah, I don’t wish to speak about my children.”

“All right,” she answered. “I fear I have said something that has upset you, and it was not my intention to do so. I do want to assure you that I am looking forward to managing your households.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

His words shocked her. “Sir?”

“My sister manages my townhouse quite well, my daughter-in-law presides over Farring Castle as it will be my son’s one day.”

What was she to do? Twiddle her thumbs all day.

“With your father’s blessing, we will make our home with your parents at Weatdon House. I assure you, we will be far more comfortable there.”

She wouldn’t have been more stunned if a passerby hit her in the head with a rock. She only realized she’d stopped walking when he caught her wrist before her hand slid out of the crook of his elbow. He yanked her forward. She nearly stumbled as she had to step quickly to catch up to his uninterrupted stride. She didn’t want to live with her parents a second longer. “I’m sorry, but I thought I would be living in the castle. Isn’t that what your previous wives have done?”

“The castle will be undergoing extensive repairs for the next few years. It isn’t a pleasant place to live. It is cold, damp, and drafty in the best of times. Parts of it are in severe disrepair. You must have heard how the third Lady Weatdon fell when part of the battlements crumbled under her feet. I’ve had to restrict access to the older towers.”

“Oh,” said Susanah. What on earth was his wife doing on the battlements? But this was the opening she’d craved. “If you don’t mind my impertinence, what happened to your first, second, and fourth wives?”

He made a low sound in his throat that was very much like noise preceding the snarl of a dog about to attack.

She swallowed hard and looked around. There were people about—not close enough to overhear their conversation, but close enough to intervene if he attacked her. Not that he would. It was just fanciful thinking. “I won’t speak of it again as I know it must be painful, but I would not like to be caught off guard if someone talks about them.”

“The last Lady Weatdon had an abscess that festered. The second Lady Weatdon took too much laudanum, and the first died in childbed.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “But thank you for telling me.”

“I hope that your mother can give you some pointers for avoiding children. As I said I don’t need any more.”

The air was knocked out of her, and she gasped. Her father’s plan to see his title revived and his descendants retain his rank and title would be for naught. She drew herself up and said stiffly, “My mother never tried to avoid having children. She would have given my father a son if she could have carried another baby for nine months.”

“That’s too bad,” said Lord Farringate.

Susanah was too stunned and too well trained to point out that he didn’t need to grace her bed if he didn’t want more children. But what would she have to live for if not children or at least a household to manage?

They were nearing the place where she and Evan had shared their last night together. It was another blow to her fragile heart. If she cared nothing for family and future, she could have married him. But the escape promised by Lord Farringate had seemed more important. Only there wouldn’t be an escape from her parents’ house. And her one hope of having children she could love would buy her resentment from her husband.

She stared at the patch of grass where she and Evan had shared sandwiches and wondered how she had got it so wrong.

* * *

Susanah stared in the mirror of her dressing table as her maid arranged her hair for the evening. She looked different—or perhaps she saw herself differently. Her reflection showed a complete and utter fool.

She had only a week and a day before she was irrevocably trapped in a horrible life, all to be a countess.

“Are you all right, my lady?” asked her maid.

She nodded. “I’m fine.”

She wasn’t.

“Perhaps you should have a candied almond,” her maid suggested and opened the drawer in the dressing table where the tin of almonds sat accusingly.

Susanah’s vision blurred. It took her a minute to realize her maid had left her alone. Slowly, as if it might burn her, she lifted the tin from the drawer. The metal was cool. There was no lingering warmth from Evan’s touch.

He was gone.

She hadn’t seen him in the days since she’d accepted Lord Farringate’s offer. Not once. She knew what he would say if she applied to him, but she wanted him to argue with her anyway. She wanted him to kiss her until she forgot the coil she was in. She wanted him to convince her of what she already knew. Marrying Lord Farringate was a huge mistake. She found her reticule and put the tin inside. It was a little symbol of Evan that she could carry tonight at the ball she was due to attend. Maybe he would be in attendance. Or if Lord Hull showed up, she could get word to Evan through him.

But neither of the men were present. She stared at every new arrival with hope then crushing disappointment.

“I had thought he would be here by now,” said her mother.

Susanah jumped. Her mother didn’t know she was waiting on Evan, did she?

“There he is,” she said.

Susanah swiveled to look at the door. Lord Farringate entered the room in a hurried manner tugging at his cuffs. He was alone, but then he usually was. His sister rarely attended evening entertainments, and his daughter wasn’t out, yet. Susanah looked down for a second and then pasted on a smile and lifted her head only to encounter the pitying gaze of her former fiancé, Lord Ashton. She wanted to die.

He was probably making some jest or another about her. She’d never been able to figure out when he was teasing her or being serious. Although he was much younger than Lord Farringate and well-favored, they really had been ill-suited for each other. He would be an earl one day. When she glanced back in his direction he was looking at his wife, his affection clear on his countenance.

Susanah stood up.

“Where are you going?” asked her mother. The tone was dulcet, but Susanah knew her mother would not tolerate disobedience, and she would pay later. It wouldn’t end with her marriage as she’d hoped. Did her mother know that Lord Farringate had decreed that they were to live with them? But as she studied the slight self-satisfied lift of her mother’s lips, Susanah suspected she did.

“I am off to greet my future husband.” She gave her mother a wide-eyed look. “Surely I should demonstrate my eagerness to see him.”

She wove through the crowd toward the entry way. She no more wanted to greet Lord Farringate than she wanted to ride a kelpie. Horses terrified her enough, without believing there were horses who would deliberately drown their riders. All she knew was that she had to get away. But how?

She searched the crowd desperately for a friendly face. She could appeal to Lord Hull, but she didn’t see him. Her best bet may be one of her archenemies, the belles. As she neared Lord Ashton she tilted close and asked, “Is Corabelle here?”

Her heart jumped into her throat as she waited for him to answer.

“A good evening to you, too, Lady Susanah,” he answered with a slight bow. “I doubt my sister-in-law is attending this evening.”

Corabelle had always been friendlier than her twin, but if Annabelle was the only person Susanah could ask for help, then she’d have to ask her. “I need to talk to Annabelle then. Ask me to dance in ten minutes then take me to her.”

Without waiting to see if he would do as she bid, Susanah made her way to her fiancé’s side. “Lord Farringate, how lovely to see you. We were starting to wonder if you would ever arrive.”

He turned and his glare was so malevolent, she took a half step back. But then his features shifted into a semblance of a smile, but one that left her cold and more certain she had made a terrible mistake in accepting his suit.

She smiled back.

He gave a sharp look to the man he’d been conversing with. “Lady Susanah, I must beg your forgiveness. Something has come up and I must leave town for a few days.” He took her hand but squeezed it so tightly she thought it might break. “I will be back in plenty of time for the wedding.”

“What has happened?” she asked with a distress that wasn’t feigned. Her hand hurt. “Has one of the children fallen ill?”

As if he realized what he was doing, his grip eased. “Nothing for you to worry about.” He turned her back toward her mother and gave her a little shove. “Please make my excuses to your parents.”

Susanah looked to see if anyone had noticed his punishing hold on her hand or the ungentlemanly shove. But no one seemed the least bit aware. Her legs were stiff and uncooperative as she moved back to join her mother, and she resisted the impulse to shake her hand.

“Lord Farringate has been called out of town,” she told her mother. “He asked me to inform you and Papa.”

“What?”

Susanah shook her head an audacious plan forming. “He is very upset. Perhaps I should go with him.”

“You are not married, yet,” her mother pointed out.

“Yes, but I will soon be his wife, and it will be my duty to offer him my support, will it not?”

“Susanah,” her mother said sternly.

She turned and scowled at her mother. “It isn’t as though I would run off alone with him. I would only go if there is a proper chaperone. His sister or another couple to keep an eye on me, but he is to be my husband, and I do owe him my loyalty.”

Her mother’s jaw dropped.

Before her mother could collect herself, Susanah turned and ran into Lord Ashton. He steadied her with his hands on her arms. “Where are you off to?”

“I…” She couldn’t say anything here where her mother could hear, so she stared up at him in mute appeal.

His brow furrowed. “May I—”

“I would be ever so grateful,” she said and took his arm, steering him away from her mother as quickly as she could.

Lord Ashton tried again, “Annabelle feels she has been remiss in not congratulating you sooner on your upcoming nuptials.”

She put her finger to her lips. Lord Ashton squinted at her, then pressed his lips together. Pointing toward Lord Farringate’s back, she whispered, “Pretend you are escorting me to my fiancé’s side.”

He did as she asked all the while casting skeptical glances in her direction. She only hoped her mother would read it as concern. He probably thought a few bats had decided to circle her belfry.

He balked as they neared the entrance.

“Please, just lead me through the door, and I’ll explain everything,” she whispered. She didn’t dare look back to see if her mother was watching, nor speak in a normal tone in case Lord Farringate, who was just ahead of them, heard her.

“I’ve a feeling I need the protection of my wife,” Lord Ashton said.

Susanah stepped to the side into a shadowed portion of the entry hall, as Lord Farringate called for his hat and carriage. She risked one glance over her shoulder and heaved a sigh of relief when she didn’t see her mother following her.

One of the footmen manning the entrance approached. “How may I assist you?”

“Show me to a room where I might have a private discussion with Lord and Lady Ashton,” she said.

The footman blinked, and she let go of Lord Ashton’s arm. She drew herself up to her full height and tilted her head up imperiously. Not that her stature gave any weight to her demands. But she needed audacity right now. If haughtiness got her what she wanted then she would use that.

Her plan would only work if her parents believed she had left with Lord Farringate and a proper escort. Even then it was a poor plan.

“Hop to it, man,” said Lord Ashton when the footman looked like he would object. “There has to be a library or morning room where we can be private a moment.”

The man looked back and forth between them probably thinking he was being asked to facilitate some illicit affair. He finally said, “This way.”

Lord Ashton stopped at the door and said, “I’ll be back in a minute with my wife.”

The footman looked apoplectic for a minute. “Very good, sir.”

She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Not that it mattered as long as he didn’t fetch her parents. She remembered Evan’s council to offer a gratuity to buy a servant’s silence but she only had a few coins in her reticule. She opened it. Instead of going for a coin, her fingers went straight to the tin as if she needed to think of Evan to give her strength.

She slid into the darkened room.

Had it been so easy for Evan to arrange illicit trysts?

A few minutes later the footman ushered in Annabelle and her husband and armed them with a lamp. She stared at Annabelle.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake.” She tightly gripped the tin. Evan had been angry at her when he left. Of course, he was. She’d told him that Lord Farringate’s marriage offer was better than his. But that was true if the only measure was a title. “I need your help.”

Annabelle folded her arms across the bodice of her deep red ballgown. “Why on earth would we help you?”

Susanah stared at her nemesis, the woman who had stolen a perfectly acceptable husband from her. Her throat clogged, as her hopes crashed down to her embroidered slippers. If they wouldn’t help her, she had nowhere to turn.