Funerals were unbearable, even for someone so unloved. They brought Theodora’s grief too near the surface.

Theodora’s father had been laid to rest without pomp or ceremony in a simple grave last week, but she couldn’t bear to glance in that direction yet. The quiet service for her beloved father was in stark contrast to today’s ostentatious display for a man disdained by his son.

Today, Lord Templeton’s body had been consigned to an impressive mausoleum in the same cemetery where her father rested. No expense had been spared to prove the earl’s importance in society, even in death. A trio of child mourners had followed the carriage bearing the mahogany coffin trimmed with gold in advance of a dozen professional mourners. There might be a few true mourners following behind, she suspected—navy officials and titled lords of his acquaintance—but not too many.

Theodora shifted in the darkened carriage parked at the edge of the cemetery; keeping an eye on the silent and straight-backed figure of her employer as he listened to the vicar of St. George’s send up prayers and whatnot for the late earl’s passing. She was too far away to hear clearly what was said of Quinn’s father, though she thought perhaps only a little of it could be true. Quinn had yet to say anything nice about the late Lord Templeton, but she’d been left in no doubt he was not missed.

A little shiver raced along her limbs as she considered Quinn overlong. She admired his honesty with her. She admired the rest of him very much indeed. They rarely spoke of the hours they spent in each other’s arms at night anymore, and that seemed to suit them both perfectly. Theodora worked diligently during the day, a model of propriety and calm efficiency, but her nights were full of wild abandon atop his comfortably large and soft bed.

Theodora brushed her thumb across her bottom lip as lust caught her in its grip yet again. Quinn was very inventive, had a stamina she’d learned to crave. Their affair had begun as a balm for his anger, but he expected so little in return it concerned her. She could not shake the feeling that his experience with the actress Adele Blakely had somehow hardened his heart against truly enjoying himself.

Did he trust her?

She thought he might not.

She shook off her disappointment as she noted the mourners turning away from the grave, solemn and with little conversation for each other. The Duke of Rutherford had not made the journey to London for the burial. By all accounts, the duke had taken the death of his eldest son and heir very badly. The bulk of the family had gathered at Newberry Park around the duke, and only a few of the men of the family attended the funeral today. Theodora suspected they’d come not out of respect for the late Lord Templeton, but to support Quinn.

She returned her attention to him, a dark figure bundled up in black against the chill of a bleak day. He nodded to many but as he made his way back to his carriage with his head down, she could see he was lost in thought. She wished there was some way to take away all of his pain beyond what she’d already done for him.

She made room for him as he joined her in the carriage, but he took the opposite seat instead of sitting at her side, as he’d taken to doing.

He placed his dark hat carefully beside him before speaking. “It’s done.”

“Yes.”

She braced herself as the carriage moved off, gaining speed as it turned into the traffic that teamed toward the capital.

Quinn stretched out one leg to brace himself against her bench seat. “I will be moving into Newberry House tonight.”

She’d expected it but still questioned him. “Why so soon?”

“I am a Templeton now. I must be seen to take the reins.”

He sounded so bleak, so unsteady, that her heart lurched in sympathy for him. It was clear to Theodora he’d not yearned for the responsibilities that came from his elevation to earl. However, they could not be avoided or passed on to another, as Quinn’s right of succession had been clear. There would be much to do and become familiar with in the coming months.

“I can join you in the morning.”

“I don’t think you should come.”

She leaned forward, her heart taking a leap almost out of her chest at the idea she’d outlived her usefulness to him. She was finally beginning to find her way as his secretary. To understand his moods and whims too. “Why not?”

A deep frown marred his brow, and he paused a long moment before answering. “In my home, my staff know the history of why you are there. They understand how much you’ve lost, and see how hard you have worked to keep your mind off that loss. At Newberry House, others might see you as less than you are. I will not tolerate anyone treating you or your mother unfavorably.”

She truly admired Quinn Ford for his protective habits. She also loved being in his arms, where decisions about the future were kept at bay.

They both knew she need not be his secretary although they’d never discussed it once. Her mother had funds to make their every wish come true, if she ever asked for the gems to be returned to her. They could stay behind or leave to settle in their own home at any time they wished. But she felt, deep down in her bones, that remaining at Quinn’s side was what she was meant to do right now.

“I am your secretary, and that is all anyone needs to know about me,” she said briskly.

His gaze pierced her with a questioning glance. “That’s not strictly true. You do have other options.”

She smiled quickly. “Mother told me about the gems.”

His breath rushed out. “And?”

“She refuses to discuss any future use of them yet. She does not wish to leave England, so I am stuck as I am. Money or not, I would prefer to spend my days being employed in a useful manner.”

He nodded slowly. “And what of the other business between us? Someone might suspect our intimate connection if you are spotted leaving my new chambers in the mornings,” he said, frowning.

A chill swept her. Quinn thought of bedding her as a matter of business? She fought not to show any distress at such an impersonal label for the hours they’d spent comforting each other. “What is there to suspect? I will work as diligently as ever.”

“I don’t want…” He smiled tightly. “I would not like my family to become difficult about you. You don’t yet know their ways.”

“For heaven’s sake, I’m not going to tell anyone we’ve slept together.”

“Who slept?” he quipped, but his brief moment of levity faded fast as he frowned again.

She studied his face, wondering what else he wasn’t telling her. Did he regret the nights they’d spent in his bed? Did he want her to stop visiting his room, now that he was an earl? She couldn’t quite bring herself to ask that question, so she chuckled softly in response to his quip.

He sighed heavily. “My father was difficult in life. In death, I expect his affairs to be no different,” he confessed. “I have to assess his estate, judge what debts he holds over others, and decide what to pursue or forgive. I must curry favor with offended acquaintances. Take up unfinished tasks, however unpleasant they might be.”

“I am your secretary, Quinn. I am not afraid of long hours or unsettling discoveries,” she promised him. “Let me do what you have employed me to do. Let me help you. That is all I want.”

He let out a tortured sigh.

“What truly bothers you?”

“I’m afraid of what we’ll find.” His expression grew pained. “He’s tainted my life.”

“I would never hold you responsible for your father’s actions. I know now that you’re nothing like him.”

“But many will believe I am.” He glanced her way, jaw clenching briefly. “Did you see Mr. Cushing approach me after the funeral? He insists on coming to see me. I have a sense that whatever it is he has to say will be unpleasant, and affects me particularly. My fear is that my father will have committed me to some mad scheme meant to extend his power, and now my own.”

“Many fathers scheme to better their children’s expectations. Usually, they mean the best for their sons and daughters.” Theodora gasped when Quinn winced, realizing at once what he was really concerned about. “Has your father committed you to a marriage?”

“I don’t believe so.”

The air rushed from Theodora’s lungs suddenly. Her relief was immediate and acute. She did not have to give up Quinn for that future yet. But it was understandable for him to worry about the possibility. Theodora understood his mood better now, even as her own heart pinched with fear that his father might just have been the sort to bind him into an unbreakable marriage contract and not warn him. “Your father did not confide in you?”

“Never. Father snapped out orders and expected me to come to heel,” Quinn replied, swishing his hand as if he held something.

A chill swept over her skin. “How did he do that?”

“Not now, love,” he whispered, closing his eyes and blocking Theodora out of his thoughts.

Theodora wanted to understand this man. To know why Lord Templeton provoked such hatred from his eldest son. Templeton had not been spoken of fondly by anyone within Theodora’s hearing, and his seduction of Quinn’s mistress showed a distinct lack of morals. “Why not talk about it now? It is just us alone. I would like to better understand how you feel about him.”

He sighed, eyes flashing open and pinning her with an angry stare. “When I was a little lad, not more than eight years old, I fell off my horse far from home. I broke my arm. My father was with me, and no one else. I remember turning to him in agony…and him turning away. He told me to be a man and bear the discomfort in silence. He used his riding crop across my backside to get me to remount my horse immediately. I remember thinking he must hate me.”

“Oh, Quinn. That is horrible. How could he?”

“He didn’t hate me. As I aged, I realized I was a commodity he meant to use for his own gain, as he tried to use my younger brothers and cousins at times, too. None of us got off lightly. Mary, I fear, suffered the most at his hands.”

“Your sister?” Theodora still did not understand why the young woman was not spoken of more openly, but she had the worst feeling about what they did not say. Questions burned her tongue. “What happened to Mary?”

He paled, glancing away. “I do not know, but I fear some situation he placed Mary in meant death was her only escape.”

“She…” Theodora could barely speak the words. “She killed herself?”

At his curt nod, her stomach roiled. No wonder Quinn had been so insistent that she accept her father’s death was an accident. No wonder the staff refused to speak of her passing to anyone. They were afraid to speak of it, none more so than Quinn appeared to be now.

He moved restlessly, fingers worrying at his coat edge. “What happened to Mary could have been avoided if I’d not been so wrapped up in myself and my efforts to thwart our father at every turn.”

“Surely you cannot blame yourself?” He said nothing to that, but she saw the proof of his feelings writ large on his face. He did blame himself. “Quinn, you are not responsible for everyone’s happiness.”

“I grew to hate him, especially so since her passing for the way he brushed aside her death without a proper investigation. I’ve done as much as I can to protect my remaining siblings, all the while secretly wishing all manner of indignities upon him. I suppose knowing he was so desperate to prove himself my better by seducing my former mistress is as much revenge as I could ever have.”

“He suffered,” she promised him, certain that Lord Templeton had been aware of what was going on around him, even if no one else believed her, until the very end of his life. “For a man who liked to be in control, his helplessness would have been agony.”

Quinn’s smile was tight. “There is little comfort in that, since any knowledge of Mary’s last days died with him.”

Theodora grew very still, watching Quinn. The jolly viscount was gone, replaced by a man who would become bitter if not turned aside from that path.

She looked out the window, thinking hard. Some men were cruel, and it was a bleak relationship she could hardly comprehend between father and son. Quinn Ford had so many admirable qualities—devotion to family, compassion for those in need. His father should have been so proud of him, instead of always finding Quinn wanting.

She could not allow this man to become trapped by hate. She would not allow Quinn to push her away in his time of need. “Work has taken my mind off my father’s death, and so it will for you, too.” She smiled brightly. “Whatever comes, you can confide in me if you need to. I would never tell anyone.”

“Adele said that too.” He set his head back against the squabs. “And all the while, she was playing me false. She had her own agenda, to advance her career through our connection, and when that wasn’t enough she likely applied to my father for his support, too.”

“My only concern is being of help to you. You have done so much for my mother and I. It would be impossible to repay you unless you take me with you. I want to be of use more than anything. I think I have been so far.”

He studied her, and then his eyes skimmed her dark mourning gown, coming to rest on her breasts. Her pulse kicked up speed, and she brought her hand to her chest. Mourning gowns could never be considered pretty, but when alone, Quinn had a way of watching her that made her think he looked beyond them to what lie beneath.

His lips quirked a little on one side. “You have. More than you know.”

She smiled shyly. “I’m glad.”

He leaned forward suddenly, placing his hand firmly on her knee. His touch was insistent as he pushed her gown between her thighs in his quest to reach her quim. Her breath caught as he succeeded, and skimmed her sex with firm pressure until she was panting with want and aching to lift her skirts for him.

“I always want you like this,” he whispered.

She breathed deeply, holding on to her rules by a mere thread. Quinn was so hard to rebuff. He made her almost angry with herself that she had so little control around him. Theodora would almost break her own rules just to make love to him during the day, to ease the yearning that never seemed to go away.

“I feel the same, but…” Reluctantly, Theodora covered his wandering hand with hers and removed it from between her legs. “Forgive me.”

He scowled fiercely at being denied. “You’d better come with me to Newberry House tonight,” he said.

Theodora smiled broadly, considering it a victory to have achieved her goal to stay with him. “I can be ready.”

He caught her smile and frowned again. “Better bring your mother and Soot, too. They’ll be your chaperones during the day to allay wagging tongues.”

“And the nights?” Theodora let her attention drift to his groin, and couldn’t help but notice a decidedly flattering bulge had formed there.

His eyes caught hers, and they softened slightly. “The nights will be decided by your invitation.”

“Come to me tonight,” she whispered, anticipation rippling over her skin. They’d never made love in her bedchamber before. She had always gone to him. But with mother preoccupied with her puppy, she depended less on Theodora for company.

“Not tonight. There will likely be too many servants running about,” he suggested. “I would like to visit you the next night, when we are settled into Newberry House, if you are agreeable.”

So long to wait, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped. Theodora nodded quickly. “I will speak to Mama about the necessity of the move and make sure the transition is smooth. I promise you’ll hardly notice her or Soot underfoot.”

“As long as everyone else notices her presence as your chaperone, I will be content,” Quinn said with a wry smile. “Appearances matter very much at a time like this.”

At last, they were of the same mind. “Indeed they do, my dear man.”