Anthony grabbed the decanter of brandy, no doubt many years older than himself, and headed out onto the freezing terrace.

What the bloody hell was he doing?

This wasn’t what he’d promised her. He’d promised to help her. Kissing her in a dark corridor where they could be discovered at any moment? That was as far from helping a lady as a man could get.

He winced then took a drink.

“Pass the bottle.”

He whipped around.

Aston.

“What the devil are you doing out here?” he demanded, his tone far rougher than it should have been.

Aston twirled a hand, gesturing to the falling snow. “I still love the night air.”

“It’s freezing.” As if to confirm it, his breath blew out in a white cloud.

“Only by your standards. Man of the East and all that. I’ve spent most of my last years on ships, sailing into frigid gales.”

They were both adventurers of different kinds. It was one reason he’d always liked the wild duke.

He took a long drink, then passed the crystal decanter to the man perched on the stone balustrade, seemingly oblivious to the wind and weather. A dusting of snow had settled on his evening coat.

Aston took it, then took a smaller drink. He handed it back and said, “You’re fighting a losing battle there.”

“With the bottle.” Anthony swirled. “I promise I shall be the victor.”

Aston arched a brow, then said, “I saw.”

“Saw?” His chest tightened.

“The way you looked at her.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re on about,” he said, flooding with relief that Aston had not seen the kiss.

Aston snorted. “Of course you don’t. But I’ll tell you this, if you let that one go, you’re a bigger fool than all those peers you disdain.”

“Who?” he asked, even as he knew he was a bloody ponce for obfuscating.

Rolling his eyes, Aston drawled, “The lady of the hour. Lady Evangeline, since you make me be so precise.”

His shoulders sank. “It’s so obvious?”

“Not to most,” Aston said easily. “Probably not to anyone but me. . . And probably your sister. Wise woman that one.”

“I’ve known Lady Evangeline for a few hours combined.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Does it not?”

“Indeed, no.” A look of pure, nauseating bliss transformed Aston’s rough features. “I knew the moment I saw Rosamund. It terrified me. Oh, I didn’t know I’d marry her. But something deep within me knew she was mine and I hers. All it took was a moment.”

“You’ve been at the brandy,” Anthony said.

“Brandy and I are good friends, but I am not three sheets to the wind, as you seem determined to be.”

He lowered the decanter and stared out into the black night. The clouds parted for a moment and stars danced overhead, pure crystals in a black velvet curtain.

Aston slipped down from his seat and headed back for the door. Before he slipped inside, he paused. “Give it thought, before you cast that feeling aside. Once it’s gone, you will not find it again.”

With that, the duke slid inside, always a tiger, always prowling, yet with a grin upon his face.

Was it true? Was he casting aside his chance?

He’d seen love. He’d seen the darkness of it and where such passions could lead.

Surely, to acknowledge the power of what she’d invoked in him would only be the path to ruin. For them both.

* * *

The Earl of Ellesmere had danced attendance upon her the last two days. The strangeness of it did not make it unpleasant. But for all that she looked at him and passed the time in friendly banter as they surveyed the many books in the library, she felt no affinity for him. Nothing like the soul-searing passion that Anthony caused within her.

Was that something to take lightly?

Anthony would never marry her. She’d barely seen him since their stolen kiss.

So, she had pushed the thought aside and continued on her perusal of the vast collection of ancient tomes, reveling in the fact that a man was happy to discuss The Odyssey with her.

Christmas was on the morrow. It hardly seemed possible.

A whole day had passed. She and Anthony had steadfastly avoided each other. Wisely, they had not continued in his promised education. For she knew as well as he that, alone, they were a dangerous pair. Something she never would have thought possible for herself.

The relentless placidity of her life had seemed impenetrable. How mistaken she had been.

“Do you read Greek?” Ellesmere asked brightly as he turned a page.

She shook her head, not just in answer, but in the hopes of clearing it. “I do not.”

“Would you like to learn?”

A laugh rippled past her lips. “Would you teach me?”

“If you’d like.”

“Of course,” she crowed. “A Greek tutor was for my brother, not me.”

Ellesmere’s face creased with annoyance. “Too little is made of the intelligence of ladies, in my opinion.”

“When you have daughters will you feel the same?” she asked before she could think better of it.

Ellesmere grew serious. “Yes.”

The sudden intensity of the moment made it clear that he was seriously considering that she could be the mother of these hypothetical daughters.

The thought should have caused her elation. Why didn’t it? Why? It was not fair that the very man she’d sought to help her find someone like Ellesmere had taken up her thoughts like a conqueror.

No, not a conqueror. Anthony was not violent or cruel. He had seduced his way into her mind with his devilish smile and his pure belief in her that she could achieve her desires.

“Do you plan to marry soon?” she blurted.

His eyes flared but then he laughed. “If you must know, yes. I am not an old man, but it is time. I have spent enough time at play and wish now to make a family.”

“I see,” she breathed.

He studied his book too carefully. “Do you?”

“An earl must marry.”

After several moments, he lifted his gaze. “We are to prevaricate?”

“I have known you little, my lord. What would you have me say?”

“Do you think I’d make a welcome husband?” he queried.

“I am certain any lady would be most fortunate to have you.”

A smile lifted the seriousness from his brow. “I’m glad to hear you say it.”

The entirety of their conversation was so jarring she had no idea how to continue. Even if this is what she had desired, she felt at sea. “Now, I do believe I must meet the duchess for tea.”

“Must you?”

“I cannot be an ungrateful guest,” she replied. Which was true. “She has been nothing but kind.”

“Then go. But I look forward to this evening.”

“As do I,” she agreed.

Suddenly, he laughed. “I hope you enjoy singing.”

“I do. But may I ask why?”

“The duchess is a lover of carols.”

“Then we shall be a very merry party.”

“I do hope so.”

As she hurried away down the hall, she could scarcely think. This was all a dream. An impossible dream. Days ago, she was a wallflower that no one noticed and now the world had noticed. She had no idea what to do. To suddenly and finally have such opportunities was bewildering, but she would not throw this away. Not when going back would be the end of all her happiness.

* * *

It wasn’t usually common to be on a given name basis with a duke. Anthony was with several. The strange set of dukes who were friends and had descended on the house were all intimate acquaintances by chance circumstances. His sister had been married to a duke in the most curious circumstances and then, well, he’d fallen in with their set.

The rarity of dukes together at Christmas was also strange, but the friends were so close that they often chose to spend such important days together. It had been a revelation to him that there could be such gatherings. Usually, he was delighted to take part.

Today, he was completely at a loss for the events unfolding before him.

What would have been a joy was now a precipitous battlefield. Several gentlemen, including Hunt and Aston, had headed out into the falling snow. Several of them had been giving him knowing looks.

It was damned disconcerting.

Often, a party of servants would be sent to find the Yule log but Hunt and Aston did not do what was often done. He admired them for it. For years, he’d had a dubious opinion of the English nobility, not truly certain what they were for, beyond ruling the lower orders and keeping them, well, low.

But after his sister had found happiness in her marriage and Anthony had met the group of boisterous men, which included three other dukes not in attendance to this party, his opinion had improved. Over the last two years, he’d learned that his original opinion was still correct regarding most of the ruling class. Still, these dukes were different. Remarkable, really.

The Duke of Hunt fell into step with him. “You’ve taken quite the young lady under your wing.”

“I beg your pardon?” He nearly tripped and did his best to hide his surprise.

“You don’t think Cordy and I keep secrets, now do you?” Hunt asked, his lips twitching.

Anthony sighed. “I had hoped.”

“Alas.”

They marched through the snow, studying fallen trees, looking for the perfect log.

“You’re wise,” Hunt said.

“Am I?” Anthony sighed. “I don’t feel it just now.”

“You’ve avoided her,” Hunt said pointedly.

“I have,” he confirmed. It had been hell, turning away every time he’d seen her enter a room. Because in all truth, whenever he saw her, he desired to be near her. It was perverse.

Hunt nodded. “Well, that’s wise if you do not intend to offer for her.”

The statement, though correct, rankled. “I’m aware of my reputation.”

“Is she?”

“I do believe so.”

Hunt paused. “I won’t have any ruinations happening at my house.”

Anthony stopped. “Do you think so little of me?”

“Of course not,” Hunt rushed. “But I know passion. I know how it can seize a man’s wit and unless you’re willing to do the right thing. . .”

“Nothing of that kind will occur,” he stated flatly. He’d had this discussion with himself several times in the last two days. “I promise you that.”

Hunt let out a relieved breath. “Glad to hear it.”

“Are you happy?” he asked suddenly.

“What kind of a pox-ridden question is that?”

“It’s just. . .” Anthony turned away, staring out into the vast wood. “I struggle to truly believe that married couples remain happy.”

“Ah.”

How could he say this? “My parents—”

“Your parents were creatures of fire,” Hunt cut in. “The both of them. They were bound to burn each other out.”

Was that true? My God, as a child, he’d watched their love burn bright to the exclusion of almost everyone around them. Their lives had been as stars blazing for each other but that love had turned to bitterness and cruelty. He, his brothers, and Cordelia had watched it, victims of its wildness.

Suddenly, Jack grabbed his arm. “Do not be afraid to be happy because of your parents. It is a mistake many of us make. I almost made it. My brother almost made it as well. We would both be miserable men without our wives.”

As if they had been discussing naught but the weather, Jack suddenly pointed at an enormous fallen tree. “There!”

The men vaulted towards the potential Yule log and after several bouts of discussion of size and girth, and a great deal of laughter, they agreed.

Christmas had truly begun and Anthony felt more shaken than he had since he’d been a child.