“You’re not about to faint, are you?” asked Lord Ashton with a skeptical tilt of his head. At the same time, he put an arm around Annabelle’s back.

For all the good that would do her. Susanah had to convince them to help her and not have them go running to fetch her mother to her.

“You’re very pale,” he added.

Annabelle rolled her eyes.

Susanah stood up very straight. She should be angry, she thought distantly, but she was too scared to be. Or rather panic and exhilaration were running through her veins in equal measure. “You should help me because I helped you. But, please, I’m begging you. I can’t marry Lord Farringate.”

“He’s an earl,” pointed out Lord Ashton. “Or have you found a duke that suits you better?”

“A plain mister,” she choked out knowing she deserved his scorn.

“I say, do you have a pistol in your reticule?” He moved Annabelle behind his shoulder.

Susanah pulled out the tin. Candied almonds popped out and a small square of paper fluttered down—probably a liner she hadn’t noticed before. Her squeezing it must have released the catch.

She stared at the dropped almonds. A servant should be summoned to sweep them away. But she didn’t want the last thing Evan had given her to be tossed in a rubbish bin so unceremoniously. To say nothing of the fact that if this didn’t work, she’d be on bread and water until she married Lord Farringate or perhaps longer. She’d need the almonds to nibble.

“Really, a plain mister?” Lord Ashton echoed more to himself than with any volume as if he’d just realized what she’d said, and he couldn’t quite believe it.

Not caring about her dignity, Susanah dropped to her knees and began plucking up the candied almonds and placing them back in the tin. The plink, plink sounded loud to her ears.

“Lady Susanah, you haven’t spoken to me in a month,” Annabelle said. “And now you want my help?”

“I’m sorry. My mother said you weren’t appropriate company for me. Or your sisters. I couldn’t talk with you.”

“We went to school together,” protested Annabelle, but she squatted down and helped pick up candied almonds.

“I know, but I have to be obedient or I am punished. Now, my parents are forcing me to accept Lord Farringate. If I don’t get away, I will never be free of them. Unless I die in some strange accident—drowning perhaps.” Or being dragged by a horse. She couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her spine.

Her dark eyes rounding, Annabelle stopped with an almond in her hand poised above the tin. “I think you had better explain.”

“If my mother thinks I have left with Lord Farringate on whatever his urgent business is, I’ll have about a week before they realize I have decamped. I could write a letter suggesting one of his children is deathly ill.” She put her hand to her forehead. But then what would she do? Her only hope was that Evan’s offer was still open. “If I am properly chaperoned and they think I am with the man they expect me to marry, they won’t run me down. I can escape.”

Annabelle stared at her blankly.

Susanah sighed. She knew she would have to explain better. All the visible almonds were in the tin, so she scooped it up and extended it. “He gave me this before he asked me to marry him.”

“Lord Farringate?” asked Annabelle.

“No. The man I hope is still willing to marry me. If you’ll take me to him…” She should just give them Evan’s name, but she feared they truly wouldn’t believe her. She hardly believed that he’d offered to marry her. But she’d been so shocked that he would be a steward that she hadn’t been able to hear what he was saying about his position as a member of the family, not just an employee. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Heavens above, she didn’t know where he was. “We might have to ask Lord Hull if he knows his direction.”

Lord Ashton bent and scooped up the paper. He tilted his head to the side. “Who is EC?”

The tin and almonds went flying and she ran over and snatched the small paper from his hand.

The scrap of paper was stained from the nuts, but she read the words that made her heart soar.

If you ever need me, send word. The direction of his uncle’s estate followed.

“You have to take me to him,” she said.

“Upon my honor, do you mean Mr. Cooper? Evan Cooper asked you to marry him?” Lord Ashton’s voice crested high.

“Yes.” She knew they would be too astounded to believe such a thing.

“And do you love him?” asked Annabelle.

Susanah went stiff at the question. Yet, she’d asked it of Evan not so long ago. And she would say anything to get them to agree to help her. “I don’t know, but I am alive when I am with him.”

They both watched her silently.

Heat rose in her face. “So quite possibly. How does one know?”

Lord and Lady Ashton exchanged a look that spoke of a shared understanding and a kind of affection she longed for.

“What do you say, angel?” Lord Ashton asked his wife. “A trip to the countryside to watch a notorious rake brought to his knees might be quite a lark.”

“We can’t just go jaunting about the countryside. What about the children?” Annabelle protested.

“Perhaps then, you could help me book passage on a mail coach,” Susanah said. After all, if she was going to be a steward’s wife, she might as well learn to live like the masses.

Both Lord and Lady Ashton stared at her with open mouths.

* * *

“What is this?” demanded Uncle Phillip as he entered Evan’s bedchamber.

“What is what?” asked Evan as he stopped splashing water on his face. He’d returned to his room to change for dinner. After a long day of meeting with several of his uncle’s tenants, going over reports from the bailiffs, and dealing with a poacher, he was exhausted. Which was probably less about the work and more to do with how much he’d drunk the night before and how little sleep he was getting.

He knew he was drinking too much. Evening card games with Gilbert weren’t enough to fully occupy his mind. He’d start having internal arguments with himself about whether he should have done things differently. Rather than stew about what he should have said or done to Susanah, he drank enough to dull his thoughts.

Reaching for a towel he dried his face. His man had laid out evening clothes on the bed. Although, Evan was of half a mind to skip dinner and go straight to drinking.

“You have to get rid of them,” said Uncle Phillip.

His uncle wasn’t making sense. Not to mention, Evan couldn’t ever remember him barging into his room. And especially not when he was undressing.

“Get rid of whom?”

“Your visitors.”

“I have visitors?” Well, obviously he had visitors, his uncle had just said so. Although no servant had presented him with a calling card. Evan’s chest squeezed. It couldn’t be Lady Susanah. He’d told her to send word—not show up unannounced. She would never do something so rash or improper. No, she was calculated down to her pinky toe. Besides she was engaged to be married to a titled man as she’d planned all along. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that now. “I haven’t encouraged anyone to visit.” Although he hadn’t told anyone they couldn’t, but his uncle’s estate was not on the beaten path. One had to go out of their way to make it here. “Who is it?”

Maybe Lord Hull was here to complain about losing five hundred pounds in his various bets against Lord Farringate tying the knot. Or escape paying for a time.

“I can’t have them see Gilbert,” said his uncle. And there was the crux of the problem. His uncle didn’t want anyone to know about Gilbert—or at least no one beyond the servants who were sworn to secrecy. “Why would they show up just before dinner? Surely, they don’t expect to stay here.”

They probably did. Most highborn travelers would expect to be accommodated overnight at the very least. Especially since the nearest inn with bedchambers was at least a dozen miles away.

“I’ll take care of it.” Evan pulled his shirt over his head. “Who is it?”

“A Lord Ashton and his wife.”

Evan pushed his head through the neck opening. That was odd. He knew Ashton, but they weren’t intimates. Why had he and his wife, who was one of the belles, stopped by? Or had they been entrusted with a letter to hand deliver? Susanah had once been engaged to Ashton. Perhaps she trusted him enough to deliver a message.

He didn’t want to hope because he’d spent the week after Hull’s letter arrived waiting on the post. Instead of anything addressed to him, his uncle received letter after letter. Apparently, he carried on volumes of correspondence with his acquaintances. Besides Evan knew better. But his heart was thundering, his mouth was dry, and his hands felt cold and clammy.

Uncle Phillip continued to stare at him.

“He may have a message for me,” Evan forced out. “But if we don’t ask them to spend the night, they will think it strange.” His uncle may have a reputation for being a reclusive hermit, but Evan didn’t. “We don’t want to arouse their curiosity. Or send them on the road after dark. Perhaps we could offer them rooms in the north wing and supper trays. Once they are tucked away in the far side of the house, there isn’t any reason they should encounter Gilbert.”

“The rooms in the north wing haven’t been used in years,” said his uncle.

“Yes, but they are in good repair and regularly aired out. I checked on them just last week.” More because he’d needed an excuse to be alone with his foul mood. But it was important to be certain the mostly unused wing was not allowed to decay or suffer an infestation of rodents. But there was a separate entrance, a separate drawing room, and a separate staircase.

The easier solution would be to keep Gilbert confined to his rooms, but disruptions to his routine were met with anger and obstinance. He wouldn’t react well to being held away from the dinner table. For not the first time, Evan wondered if limiting Gilbert’s interactions with the world and people was the best thing. Granted, he didn’t want Gilbert exposed to those who would belittle or torment him, but not everyone was so cruel. But it wasn’t his decision to make.

“So where are Lord and Lady Ashton?” asked Evan.

If they’d been shown to the drawing room, it was no wonder his uncle was in a panic as Gilbert would be there soon as they gathered before dinner.

“They are in the library.”

“Would you like to inform the housekeeper or should I?” Evan asked as he unbuttoned the falls of his unmentionables.

“Are you certain they need to stay tonight?” It wasn’t like his uncle to be so indecisive. But then he looked anxious.

“I’m certain that it would be for the best. They won’t encounter Gilbert, I’ll make certain of it. Better to house them, then to send them off into the night where they might risk encountering highwaymen.”

His uncle nodded. “You’re right, of course.” He looked left and right. “I should have gates installed so no one can drive up to the house. Martha and I discussed it, but we managed to discourage visitors before they ever made it that far.”

Evan grimaced. “I shall endeavor to do so going forward. I never thought anyone would arrive without notice.”

His uncle departed to inform the housekeeper of the plan. Evan resumed dressing for a dinner he was certain he wouldn’t be able to eat.

* * *

Susanah stared at the mantle clock. Twenty minutes had passed since they were first shown into the library and each one of them had been an eternity. What if she had been wrong to come? What if Evan didn’t want to marry her?

She’d been over every horrid possibility in her mind since climbing into the carriage in the wee hours of the morning. What if his proposal had only been a feint to seduce her, and he’d never intended to marry her at all? Or he only wanted to marry her if he was assured of her dowry and inheritance? He might not have any regard for her at all. He’d left the very day he’d taken her to the park to ride as if he couldn’t wait any longer to get away.

She may have made a terrible mistake.

Why wasn’t he joining them? She looked at the clock again.

It was stuck. It had to be. The minute hand hadn’t moved at all.

She tried to puzzle out if there was any significance in being shown to the library rather than a drawing room. It wouldn’t be unusual for male callers to be shown to the library, but generally, ladies were taken to a drawing room. Then again they were calling on the steward not the lord of the manor. But neither Ashton nor Annabelle seemed the least bit perturbed.

No, they were chatting about their children.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Ashton said to her.

She tensed, never certain if he was teasing her or not. Then she gave a nod. She’d betrayed her anxiety by glancing too many times at the clock. She wouldn’t look again without counting to at least a hundred—slowly.

“They might be at dinner if they keep country hours,” said Annabelle. “We probably should have found a place to stay and sent word we’d like to call on the morrow.”

Susanah didn’t know if she could have survived another night without knowing if he would have her. But she kept her expression schooled.

Annabelle glanced out the window where the light slanted in from a low angle.

“You can’t think of a cousin within a dozen miles?” Ashton asked his wife.

“The nearest is another ten leagues or so.” Annabelle frowned. “And farther from London.”

They wouldn’t be able to travel thirty miles before the light was completely gone.

“I believe there was an inn before we turned off the main road,” said Ashton.

If they were discussing where to stay for the night, they must be concerned that no one had welcomed them yet.

She wanted to scream at them that they couldn’t leave, couldn’t stay elsewhere, but she had already insisted they must press on when they had started discussing stopping for the night nearly two hours ago.

The door opened and she leaned forward, but instead of Evan, an older man entered the room. She looked beyond him for Evan, but he closed the door behind him.

Ashton stood and crossed to greet the man. “Lord Morton, how good to see you again.”

The older gentleman looked at Ashton with a look of confused surprise.

“You probably don’t remember me,” Ashton continued blithely. “No doubt, I had a runny nose, skinned knees, and a morbid fascination with military uniforms. You were garrisoned near Bridgwater and my father came to inspect the troops.”

The older man looked startled then said, “I do remember you. You were with Lord Halswelle.”

“I shouldn’t have been,” Ashton said easily, but I stowed away in his carriage and by the time he realized I was there it was too late to send me back.” He flashed a charming self-deprecating grin. He was never afraid to make himself the butt of his own jests.

“Can’t say I remember you looking anything other than presentable,” said Lord Morton stiffly.

Ashton just grinned as if he didn’t know how to be offended. “And fascinated. In awe of you and your fellow soldiers.” He gestured toward her. “Allow me to present Lady Susanah Poole and my wife, Annabelle.”

The older man turned to Susanah without even acknowledging Annabelle, which was rude. “You’re Weatdon’s girl.”

“Yes,” she answered only barely able to keep her eyes on him instead of on the door. Where was Evan? Or was the man staring at her because he was charged with rebuffing her? Her throat tightened.

“Our apologies for arriving unannounced.” Ashton moved closer to Lord Morton, who was standing directly in front of her. “Our trip came up without warning.”

“Yes, yes,” acknowledged Lord Morton with an impatience that suggested he didn’t want to be hospitable. He took a deep breath. “You did catch us in the middle of dinner.”

Susanah stiffened. Something in the way his voice trailed away made her think he was lying. But she couldn’t fathom why he would. Unless Evan didn’t want to see her at all. Lord Morton was looking at her most particularly and not in the least bit welcoming.

“We’re so sorry,” she murmured.

“I worked with your father on the Papist Act,” Lord Morton said, his eyes narrowing. “I just had a letter from him. He said you were finally marrying. Lord Farringate, is it?

Susanah didn’t know what to do but swallow and nod. “Yes.”

Ashton gave her a sharp look.

“The wedding must be quite soon.” He took a puzzled look around as if he expected Lord Farringate to appear out of a darkened corner.

“Yes, next week,” she squeaked out. After all, what could she say? If this man knew and corresponded with her father, she couldn’t risk him sending a courier if he suspected she was running away.

She was all too aware of the Ashtons’ watchful looks. But she had to make him think nothing was amiss.

“Then whatever are you doing here?” Lord Morton asked sternly with confusion and censure in equal doses.

It was as if a winged bird were in her chest madly flapping about trying to escape. Her throat was tight, but she summoned her years of implacable expressions and began to give her rather weak explanation. She’d only posted her letter to her parents after they left town. That way they wouldn’t find it easy to stop her—or at least not without causing a commotion which might result in a terrible scandal.

Susanah didn’t look away from Lord Morton as she relayed that Lord and Lady Ashton had been at hand when Lord Farringate had been told of an emergency. He’d needed to see to the situation with all haste, which was a private matter she wouldn’t discuss without his leave. She, of course, felt it her duty to support and assist him in any way she could.

As she spoke, she knew she couldn’t risk betraying her turmoil. Besides if Evan wouldn’t marry her, she would have no alternative but to marry Lord Farringate.

After all, they had told the butler who answered the door they were here to see Evan, not his uncle. And if he wanted to see her at all, he surely would have been here before now.

* * *

Evan found tying his cravat far more difficult than it should have been. His stomach knotted as if trying to demonstrate for his uncooperative fingers.

When he was finally dressed, he alternated between wanting to fly to the library and dreading that he might have his hopes up about nothing. But what reason would the Ashtons have for calling on him—going miles out of their way to call on him—if it didn’t concern Susanah?

When Evan reached the closed library door, he took a deep breath and then entered only to find Uncle Phillip there ahead of him. He was talking to Lady Susanah.

All the air whooshed out of his lungs.

She was here. His heart sung.

Her eyes met his and then her perfectly controlled simper took over her face before he had a moment to guess what she was feeling or thinking. But she had to be here for him. What other reason would she have for being here?

She’d come to him. She must have arranged a way to escape her parents and come to him.

Then he heard what she was saying to his uncle.

“Lord Farringate’s emergency forced him to leave London before he could arrange for me to accompany him. But Lord and Lady Ashton were kind enough to offer to escort me to meet him. He—well, we are ever so grateful to them for making it possible for me to be by his side when he needs me.”

It was everything Evan could do to keep his eyes in his head. Sound rushed in his ears. Had she already married Lord Farringate? Surely she wouldn’t be traveling to meet him if they weren’t already wed. It had been a little over a fortnight since he’d left London. Long enough for the banns to be read thrice and the marriage completed.

“May I offer my felicitations on your conquest.” His voice was lower than normal and thick.

“Thank you,” she said so softly, he almost couldn’t hear her. Her eyes looked flat, but then she turned her patently false smile in his uncle’s direction.

What on earth?

His chest hurt. He folded his arms over it as if that would help. But then he realized Lord and Lady Ashton were also in the room and he hadn’t done so much as acknowledge them. He turned. “Ashton.” He nodded his head. “My lady.”

Ashton’s eyes were crinkled at the corners and his lips pressed tight as if he were amused. “Cooper,” he said in a sing-song way that made Evan want to level him or at least mar his comely face.

Why was he amused?

Lady Ashton, the eldest of the infamous belles, gave a soft shake of her head. “We are so sorry to have interrupted your dinner.”

Evan almost corrected her, but then realized that must be the excuse his uncle had given rather than invite them to the table. Instead, he focused his attention on her. It hurt too damn much to look at Susanah. She had married that old reprobate, even though he’d told her not to.

Although Annabelle was one of the belles, it took a minute to see past her hawkish nose and her tendency to hide in corners to realize she was as beautiful as her golden sisters. As young a matron who’d delivered her heir and spare, she was exactly the sort of woman he’d spent most of the past decade seducing, but he had no interest in her. Which was almost surprising, because he could, at the same time as he viewed her dispassionately, see her attributes.

Her dark soulful eyes with thick lashes, high cheekbones, and cleft chin were more than appealing. Her form was rounded in all the right ways, but he felt nothing. It alarmed him that he wasn’t the least bit interested.

Ashton stepped closer to his wife and put an arm around her shoulders. “We’ve been traveling all day. Would it be possible for the ladies to freshen up before we seek lodgings for the night?”

Had his uncle decided he wanted them out? Whether he was managing the estate or not, it wasn’t Evan’s place to offer hospitality. His hands curled inward at his feelings of helplessness.

“My housekeeper is having rooms prepared and Cook will send supper trays to you,” Uncle Phillip said.

“Thank you, my lord,” said Annabelle.

Susanah feebly echoed Annabelle’s thanks.

Uncle Phillip addressed Lord Ashton. “My nephew and I must return to the table, but I’m certain you may share whatever message you have brought him before you resume your journey tomorrow.”

Ashton gave a congenial smile and a bow. “Of course. Or later tonight.”

Was there really some message Ashton had been entrusted with to bring them to his uncle’s home? Or had Susanah finagled a trip here? If so why?

He cast her a questioning look.

She looked pale and just faintly panicked. Why in the hell was she here? If she’d married Farringate, why would she come here?

The question plagued him through dinner. But his guests weren’t mentioned in front of Gilbert lest he want to meet them or feel excluded if he wasn’t allowed to see them. What food Evan did put in his mouth had no taste. He could be eating dirt for all he noticed. Although most of his food he shoved around until it was time for the next course and a footman relieved him of his plate.

* * *

“Well, that was very strange,” Ashton said.

The housekeeper opened the door and seemed in a rush to take them on an extended hike through the house. They went up and down stairs, twisting and turning so many times, Susanah started to wonder if she should have left breadcrumbs to find her way back. How would she ever find Evan in this huge house?

Strangely, she thought it might best her father’s country estate in size. She was fairly certain they’d crossed through what must have been a medieval banqueting hall complete with empty suits of armor standing sentry in front of some lovely old tapestries. If the house was this large, likely the estate was prosperous, but she didn’t know what it would matter. Well, other than if Evan was still willing to marry her, they could live here quite comfortably. But he’d hardly looked at her.

Susanah was shown into a lovely sitting room done in royal blues and grays. A fresh fire was taking off on the hearth.

“Queen Anne’s room, my lady,” said the housekeeper with a bob. “One of the maids will be along soon with a supper tray. If you have need of anything, just ring.”

Susanah thanked her.

“My lord, my lady, you are just along the passageway in the Duke of Cornwall’s rooms. “You should be quite comfortable.” Her voice trailed off as she led them out.

Susanah held the door watching as they moved to a set of rooms farther along the corridor. She shut the door feeling alone. Perhaps if she could find her way outside, Evan would join her. But after the way he’d looked more particularly at Annabelle, she wondered if she’d brought them all here on a wild goose chase.

Her throat tight, she drew off her gloves and circled the large sitting room. The room opened to a bedchamber large enough to waltz. Heavens, the bed alone might be big enough to contain at least the figures of one couple in a quadrille. The bed curtains were purple as if to emphasize that this was a room for royalty. As happened in many older houses, Queen Anne must have stayed here at one point for the suite to be named after her.

Susanah’s bag had been brought in and placed on a plush bench at the bottom of the bed. This room, too, had a fresh fire burning in the grate. The lack of coals and ashes gave it away. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled out her nightgown and draped it over a chair near the fireplace. She stared at the ball gown stuffed inside her bag. Perhaps she could sell it and get enough money to…live for a week.

What would she do if Evan didn’t want to marry her?

She tried to come up with a plan. Ask Annabelle to hire her as a governess to her children? But Annabelle had corrected her while they were in school, making Susanah feel like an idiot. It wasn’t likely Annabelle would consider her qualified to teach. Perhaps Susanah could be a companion. Or work as a seamstress. She was good at embroidery. It was perhaps the only thing she was good at. But it wasn’t the sort of skill that would support her.

Besides her parents would never allow it. She didn’t know if she could escape them. Her father was too powerful. And she had agreed to marry Lord Farringate.

But Evan. He’d spent far more time studying Annabelle than looking at her. Susanah’s throat tightened and her nose stung. She’d known Evan was a rake. For heaven’s sake, their first real conversation happened when he’d been half undressed after leaving a tryst with Mrs. Barnet. Yet, for some reason he’d shown a distinct unwillingness to seduce her—although she’d indicated her willingness more than once. He’d said in the beginning that he’d make her beg for it. But she wasn’t certain he even wanted her at all. Yet, she ached for him.

Why did she ache for a scoundrel?

A knock on her door sounded. Her heart leapt. She jumped to her feet hoping it was him.

It was a maid, carrying a tray with food and tea.

The food made her stomach roil. After she’d long given up any attempt to eat, every creak of the house had her jumping up, waiting for him, but hours ticked by and there was no sign of him. Could it be any clearer that he didn’t want her? No, he was probably too busy figuring out how to get Annabelle away from the husband she adored, rather than thinking about her.