Early rays of sunshine warmed Mary’s skin as she strolled through the garden with Viscount Belgrave the following day. She’d been planning a visit to the library, but her aunt had intervened, suggesting that spending time with his lordship would be of far greater value.

“But I shall be joining him for a picnic later,” Mary had protested, to which her aunt had replied, “The more time you spend in each other’s company, the more chance there is of him making an offer.”

Deciding not to argue with her aunt’s logic, Mary had done as she had asked.

“My lady?”

Mary blinked, startled by the insistence of Lord Belgrave’s voice and realizing they’d come to a halt. Turning her head, she noticed that his eyebrows were raised in question. He was a handsome man, no doubt about that, but looks did not a love match make. More was required for that. “Yes?” she inquired.

It was his turn to blink. “You seemed very deep in thought just now. I wonder if you heard any part of what I was saying.” She stared back at him until he eventually said, “About my decision to extend one of the parlors at Belgrave House and turn it into a conservatory?”

Knitting her brow, she bit her lip and shook her head. “Please forgive me, my lord. I believe I must have been woolgathering.” When a perplexed expression crossed his face, indicating that he’d likely spoken on the matter at great length, she added, “Though I am sure it would be a wonderful improvement to your home.”

Expelling a deep, dissatisfied breath, Belgrave resumed walking, guiding Mary toward the shade of an elm tree and a bench that stood beneath it. He waited for her to sit before allowing himself to claim the vacant spot next to her. A true gentleman in every sense of the word. More so than Richard, who’d held her shockingly close while his lips . . .

“May I ask what it is that has you so distracted?” Belgrave asked, forcing Mary’s attention back to him once more. “If you are concerned about something, I would be happy to offer advice. As a friend, of course.”

She smiled up at him. “That is very kind of you, but I can assure you that nothing is troubling me.”

Stretching out his legs, he crossed them, drawing attention to his perfectly polished boots. “Well, whatever it is,” he said with a slight tilt of his lips, “it does appear as though you are more interested in it . . .” he paused for a moment as if considering something, then added, “or him . . . than you are in me.”

Shocked by his statement, Mary turned so abruptly toward him that she almost toppled backward onto the grass behind her. Belgrave’s steady hand stayed her. “I beg your pardon?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He chuckled slightly. No hint of annoyance. “I see now that I am correct. Someone else is preoccupying your mind, which makes me wonder why you are not keeping his company instead of mine. After all, you are an exceedingly lovely woman, Lady Mary. A man would be mad not to have some interest.”

“I . . . thank you, my lord.” What was she to say without lying? “You have been exceptionally kind and I can only hope that you can forgive me for not paying greater attention to you. I fear I have been unconscionably rude.”

“It is quite all right.” Briefly, he gazed up at the leaves rustling overhead before looking back at her. “If I were to hazard a guess, your aunt is eager to see you married and has insisted that you become better acquainted with the gentlemen visiting Thorncliff.”

“How did you know?” Mary asked, embarrassed that he’d discovered that she’d practically been pushed at him against her will.

He shrugged. “It is the way of things. People like us do not expect to make a love match. When the Spencers introduced us, I was just happy to discover that you are a beautiful person, both inside and out.”

Glancing up at him, she saw his gentleness reflected in his eyes. “You give the very best compliments, my lord, but you cannot honestly claim to have known me long enough to make such an assessment of my character.”

Allowing a smile, he reached for her hand, raised it to his lips and placed a tender kiss upon her knuckles. “A woman who laughs and smiles as much as you do, cannot be anything but beautiful and kind.” He leaned back, allowing her to mull over his words a moment before saying, “Does this man whom you like reciprocate your sentiments?”

A flush of heat rose to Mary’s cheeks. “I do believe that you are being entirely too curious about my personal affairs, Lord Belgrave.”

He nodded at that. “Forgive me, but since I do enjoy a fair amount of gossip myself, I—”

Her eyes went wide. “You do?”

“Certainly.”

“But you are a man!”

His mouth contorted into something ridiculously strange until he suddenly, quite unexpectedly, burst out laughing. “And what?” he asked when he’d gotten himself back under some measure of control. “Men cannot enjoy listening to news of scandalous behavior?”

“There is nothing scandalous about my behavior!” Not entirely true, she realized, once the words were out.

“I see.” He turned more fully toward her and looked her straight in the eye. “Is he married?”

Her jaw dropped. “What? No! Of course not.”

“Then he must be someone whom your aunt would not approve of. It is the only logical explanation for why you are not with him instead of me.”

Mary didn’t respond. It had taken him all but two conversations to figure her out, and all because she kept on getting distracted by thoughts of Richard. Lord help her, she’d barely slept a wink last night after they’d parted, continuously going over the time they’d spent together in the cave. He’d heard her sing. Had actually liked it! And then of course there was his embrace and the maddening way in which her body had responded. She’d never felt like that before, and had been completely taken unawares by the sudden need for him to touch her in the most shocking ways possible.

Her heart quickened at the memory of it and her stomach quickly tightened. “If you do not mind, I think I should like to visit the library before it is time for us to join the Spencers for the picnic.” She needed to get off this bench and move—expel the restlessness that churned inside her with the anticipation of seeing Richard again. It wouldn’t be long, and yet it seemed like forever.

“I would be happy to escort you, if you like,” Belgrave said. “In fact, there are a couple of books that I have been meaning to take a look at myself.”

She accepted his offer, happy with the feeling that their strange conversation had not made things too awkward between them. Rather, he seemed surprisingly tolerant of the fact that he had no chance of winning her hand in marriage. As if to underline this notion, he said, “I am sorry that your situation appears difficult to you. Hopefully you will find the solution that you seek, but in the meantime, if you need anything, I am happy to assist in whatever way that I can.”

Linking her arm with his, she said, “And in return, I shall endeavor to find a lady who is more deserving of your favor than I will ever be.”

They crossed an intersecting pathway leading past a row of trees, from which a shadow emerged, solidifying as the sun fell upon the man’s face, revealing none other than Rotridge. “Lady Mary and Lord Belgrave,” he addressed them dryly. “What a lovely little walk you appear to be having.”

It was, until just now, Mary felt like saying. Instead she allowed Belgrave to respond.

“It is a perfect day for it,” he said, seemingly unperturbed by Rotridge’s scowl, though he did draw Mary a little closer to him, as if he sensed that she needed protection.

Rotridge’s eyes darkened, even as he attempted a smile. “Do you enjoy masquerades, Belgrave?”

Belgrave straightened his spine, increasing his height as he stared back at Rotridge. “If you are referring to the ball the other evening, I must confess that I found it most enjoyable.”

“Indeed?” Rotridge’s lips drew up to form an ugly snarl.

“Indeed.”

Mary’s temper started to rise. “Is there a point that you would like to make, my lord?” She gave Rotridge her best glare.

His eyes turned toward her. “Only that I do not recall seeing Belgrave there.”

“Perhaps because I was wearing a Bauta mask?” Belgrave suggested. “My entire face was hidden from view.”

“Precisely,” Rotridge said, taking a step closer.

Belgrave frowned. “Please forgive my ignorance, Rotridge, but I am having trouble understanding your implication.”

“He is not the man you are looking for,” Mary told Rotridge. She’d hate for him to do something rash and for Belgrave to suffer the consequence on account of a mistaken identity.

Rotridge appeared to study Belgrave for a moment before finally saying, “No, I don’t suppose he is. Never mind. I will simply have to keep on trying to figure it out.” He tipped his hat in the most condescending manner that Mary had ever seen. “Good day.”

“He really doesn’t like you, does he?” Belgrave asked as they watched Rotridge walk away.

Mary expelled a deep breath. “No,” she agreed, “He does not.”

Belgrave seemed to ponder that for a moment before saying, “He is also very jealous of your secret beau.”

Mary’s mouth tightened in a grimace. “I do not have a beau.”

“No?”

“No,” she said decisively.

A brief silence followed as they continued back toward the house until Belgrave said, “In any event, I would like to inform Spencer and Chadwick about Rotridge’s behavior. Between the three of us, we will have a better chance of keeping an eye on him, just in case he decides to give you trouble.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Mary said, appreciating his concern. “Your assistance is most welcome.”

They set out with a pair of curricles when the sun was at its highest. Tied securely beneath her chin, Mary’s bonnet shaded her eyes as she gazed out over the bright display of wildflowers dotting the countryside. “It is nice to escape the crowd for a while,” she told Belgrave as he steered the horses along the dirt road.

“Too boisterous for you?” he asked, briefly dropping a look in her direction.

“A little perhaps. I enjoy the company of others, but there is also something to be said for peace and quiet.” Thinking of Richard, she considered how odd it was that her world was so full of people while his was completely lacking.

It took a half hour drive for them to arrive at the hilltop that Sarah and Spencer had mentioned. After parking both curricles at the bottom, the party alit and gathered up their supplies before making their way to the top.

“There is quite a splendid view from up here,” Mary said as she turned to look out over the countryside below. “Have you seen?”

“It is one of the reasons why I suggested coming here,” Sarah said. Setting down the blanket she’d been carrying, she came to stand beside Mary. “Look, you can see Thorncliff over there in the distance.”

Turning in the direction that Sarah indicated, Mary searched for the manor until she finally found it. “It looks so small from here.”

Sarah chuckled. “I know. It is hard to believe that there are hundreds of people residing within its walls at present, if one considers all the servants as well.”

Nodding her agreement, Mary turned away from the view and approached the spot where the men were unfolding Sarah’s blanket. Offering them her own, she gave her attention to one of the baskets and, with Sarah’s help, began organizing the plates and the food until everything had been laid out.

“It looks delicious,” Spencer said as he dropped down onto the blanket, seating himself beside Sarah while Belgrave lowered himself next to Mary.

For the next hour, they enjoyed the food that Cook had prepared for them while discussing a subject that Mary found most uncomfortable: marriage. But since Spencer and Sarah had recently had their wedding and Spencer’s sister, the former Lady Newbury, had married the Duke of Stonegate in secret, it was apparently a subject that Sarah was very much interested in.

“What say you, Belgrave?” Spencer suddenly asked. “Do you suppose you might choose to marry any time soon?”

Starting at the question, Mary looked at the gentleman seated at her side, immediately embarrassed on his behalf even though he showed no sign of concern over the question. Instead, he seemed to ponder it quite seriously before eventually saying, “Perhaps. If the right lady comes along, I see no need to delay.”

“Quite right,” Spencer concurred.

Sarah on the other hand offered Mary a very deliberate smile that made Mary want to shrink away into nothingness. Thank God that Belgrave knew of her disinterest in him or this would have been the most awful conversation ever.

When they were done with the food, Sarah said, “Perhaps you would like to enjoy a quiet stroll?” She gave Belgrave a pointed look that made Mary cringe.

To her relief, he merely shrugged and said, “I was actually hoping to use this time away from the masses to discuss an investment that I have in mind with your husband.”

Spencer gulped, the wine he’d been drinking almost spilling from his glass. “Of course,” he said, apparently just as surprised by this statement as his wife was.

“Are you certain?” Sarah asked while Mary quietly prayed for her to stop trying to make a match where there was no match to be made.

“Quite,” Belgrave said, “but if you and Lady Mary would like to go for a stroll, then by all means, do not let me keep you.”

Mary required nothing further to get her on her feet. Addressing Sarah, she said, “Come. Let us leave the men to their financial discussions and take a look at that church you mentioned. I find that I am quite eager to see it.”

Side by side, they wandered away from where the men were sitting. “Am I mistaken, or are you and Belgrave completely disinterested in each other?” Sarah finally asked.

Mary glanced briefly at her friend, noting her curious expression before returning her gaze to the view. “We are friends,” she said, “but there is little chance of us ever being anything more.”

“Why? I can hardly think of anyone more eligible than Belgrave.” There was a brief pause, and then, “Does your disinterest in him have something to do with the gentleman you met at the masquerade?”

A gentle breeze toyed with the grass while Mary considered the question. “Perhaps,” she said, not bothering to hide her smile.

“Then you have discovered his identity?”

Mary scrunched her nose. “No.” When Sarah spoke her surprise, Mary quickly added, “but I have met with him a few times since the night of the ball.”

“Without knowing who he is?”

“I do not expect you to understand,” Mary said, “but there is something about him that draws me. I cannot seem to help it.”

A contemplative pause followed until Sarah quietly asked, “Do you have any clue at all regarding his identity?”

“Not yet,” Mary lied. She’d told her friend enough and would not risk betraying Richard’s trust.

“Just be careful then,” Sarah said as she linked her arm with Mary’s. “I would hate for you to get hurt.”

It was past ten o’clock when Richard heard her footsteps descending the stairs that would lead her toward him. A second passed, and then the glow of her lantern came into view, blending with the light of his own as she entered the small antechamber, beyond which, the gardens of Thorncliff awaited.

The slightest tremor shot through him at the sight of her. She wore her hair up in a complicated style that only a maid would have been able to produce, revealing a pair of delicate earrings that dangled from her lobes. Her gown this evening had been cut from the sheerest white muslin in multiple layers that added an air of ghostliness to her. Over it, she wore a tight spencer jacket that was meant to keep her warm. To Richard’s mind, it only served to draw attention to her shapely figure.

“Are you ready?” he asked. Something had to be said before he forgot himself completely.

She nodded. “I have been looking forward to it all day.”

There was something in her tone that made him want to wrap his arms around her and pull her against him. Instead, he shrugged the feeling away and turned toward the door.

Fifteen minutes later, they were back inside the cave, their lanterns casting a yellow glow that danced across the walls. Carefully, Richard headed toward the other end of the cave where the floor slanted downward. Turning up the light of his lantern, he held it out in front of him and glanced down. “It appears to be a little steep,” he said. “Do you think you can manage?”

Stepping up beside him, Lady Mary paused for a moment before saying, “I am glad that I put on my walking boots after dinner.”

Dropping his gaze, he spotted the leather tips of them peeking out from beneath her hemline. “I will help you, of course.” Moving forward, he realized the slope wasn’t nearly as challenging as it appeared, for which he was grateful. He turned when he was halfway down and offered Lady Mary his outstretched hand, a shock of heat rushing through him the moment her palm settled against his own, alerting him to the fact that she wasn’t wearing gloves.

With trembling heart, he guided her toward him, then stepped back the rest of the way until they were both safe on the flat surface below. Unwilling to sever the bond between them, he failed to release her hand as he ought, waiting instead for her to do it. To his surprise, she curled her fingers more tightly around his—so tightly, that he almost forgot to breathe.

“I went for a walk with Belgrave today,” she said. The softness of her voice made it sound as though she was speaking of a mundane matter like the arrangement of flowers in the garden. “Later, we enjoyed a picnic with the Spencers.”

Richard stiffened. Instinct told him to retreat. Instead he held his ground, thankful that his expression would be hidden behind his mask. Allowing a moment to pass, he aimed for a neutral tone. “I trust you had an agreeable time?”

“It was pleasant enough,” she said as she pursed her lips. “He knows that I have no interest in him.”

“Is that true?”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “Of course it is.”

His chest tightened around his heart. “I daresay that there is no ‘of course’ about it. After all, he is both handsome and titled. In fact, the truth of the matter is that he would make an excellent match for you.” What the hell was he doing, talking up another gentleman in favor of himself?

She nodded her agreement. “He is also exceedingly kind.”

Richard grit his teeth together. “I have no doubt that he is.”

“In fact,” she told him thoughtfully, “I do believe my life would be far less complicated if I were interested in him.”

“But you are not?” He held his breath in anticipation of her answer.

She frowned. “I thought we had already established that I am not.”

“Right.” He made to turn away—to avoid asking her who she might be interested in then—knowing what her answer would be but also knowing that he really shouldn’t encourage her favor. Except of course, he wouldn’t be roaming around a dark cave with her in the middle of the night . . . alone, one might add . . . unless he wished to encourage her favor a great deal. Damn, what a mess he’d made. And all because he couldn’t stop himself from seeking her out on the night of the ball.

“I also spoke with Rotridge.”

A chill raced down Richard’s spine. His shoulders tensed. “About what?”

Her eyes widened a little, no doubt in response to how angry he now sounded. “Actually, he approached Belgrave while I was in his company. Apparently Rotridge was of the opinion that Belgrave might have been you.”

“I see.” Thank God he’d had the foresight to inquire about the earl. If only he could find something condemning that he could hold against him, then hopefully he’d have a means by which to ensure that he would stay away from Lady Mary forever.

“You should know that Belgrave has mentioned it to Spencer and Chadwick and that the three of them have offered to keep an eye on Rotridge—to ensure that he does not try to do something foolish.”

“Good.” Richard knew little about Belgrave, but with Spencer and Chadwick looking out for Lady Mary, he was confident that she would be safe from Rotridge. How safe she’d be from him, however, was an entirely different and far more complicated question. Raising his lantern, he immediately forgot about his predicament regarding his increasing fondness for Lady Mary because of what he suddenly saw. “There are steps over here.” It seemed unfathomable.

“Steps?” She sounded equally surprised. “So much for discovering unchartered territory.”

He almost laughed in response to her obvious disappointment. “I see no reason why we cannot still explore it.”

“I suppose you are right, especially since there is less chance of either one of us falling into a ravine as long as a proper path exists.”

“Were you really worried about such a thing happening?” he asked. He’d warned her that their exploit could prove hazardous, but a ravine? “I have never heard of caves having ravines in them,” he told her thoughtfully.

“A pit then?”

He blinked and murmured a drawn out, “No,” before adding, “When I spoke of potential danger, I was merely considering a sprained ankle or some other minor injury. Not once did I imagine either one of us plummeting to our deaths.”

She scrunched her nose again in that adorable way that he’d grown so fond of. “I am sorry. It was not my intention to be quite so dramatic about our adventure, but I have recently been reading The Dark Secret of Mistletoe Forest—”

“And you imagined ending up at the bottom of a pit with only a ghost for company?”

She gaped at him. “Have you read it?”

“In case you were not aware, I have had a surprising amount of time on my hands since returning from the war.” He shrugged. “As it happens, I found it to be an amusing read—undoubtedly one of the most unpredictable books that I have ever encountered.”

“I find it vastly entertaining myself,” she said. “Especially the part where the hero descends into the pit to save the heroine by tying the harness from his horse together with his jacket, shirt, stirrups and saddle.”

“A touch unrealistic, I suspect, but the fact that this amused you tells me something else about you,” he said.

“And what might that be?” She gazed up at him, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“Well, some might say that The Dark Secret of Mistletoe Forest is one of the stupidest books in existence—a mockery of English literature. But since you do not, I can only conclude that you appreciate the satire behind it and that you also have a splendid sense of humor.”

The smile that spread its way across her face, like the first rays of sunlight brightening the sky at dawn, stole his breath. She was without a doubt the most exquisite creature he’d ever encountered. “That is one of the best compliments I have ever received,” she said. “Thank you.”

Dipping his head in a bow, he turned back toward the stairs. “Shall we proceed?”

“Oh, indeed we shall!”

Richard counted fifteen steps before they reached another plateau. “Do you hear that?” He whispered the question.

“It sounds like water.”

Moving closer to the sound, Richard noticed a series of torches, held in place by iron sconces that had been mounted into the rock wall. Taking one down, he held it to the flame of his lantern, then used it to light the rest of the torches until the cave was perfectly illuminated, allowing them both a clear view of the space they were now in—an area at least twenty paces in width. Looking up, Richard saw that a thin waterfall flowed out from between a crack in the wall. He followed the movement until it dove behind a ledge at the opposite side of the plateau, splashing against a larger body of water below.

Crossing the area, he peered down, confounded by what he saw. “It looks as though there is an underground river down there.” He glanced toward the left where a gradual slope appeared to form an embankment. “I can even see a boat.”

She was beside him in an instant. “I thought you were joking,” she said. And then, “This is without a doubt the best adventure I have ever had. Shall we see what else we can find?”

Richard laughed, the sound so foreign to him that he startled himself with it, which resulted in something of a croak. He heard Lady Mary draw a sharp breath, and then she said, “I gather that it has been a while since you found something amusing?”

He nodded, increasingly aware of how much he enjoyed her company.

“In that case, I feel remarkably lucky to have had the good fortune of sharing this moment with you, and one day, when you are ready, I hope to not only hear your laughter, but to see you smile as well.”

“I must confess that as much as I would like that, I cannot help but fear how you will react.” His throat tightened around his breath until his chest ached and his heart felt uncomfortably heavy. He’d never been this honest, this open, with anyone.

“I know,” she said as she reached out and took him by the hand, her fingers wrapping around his. She looked at him with imploring eyes. “But we cannot go on like this forever. Not if we are to have a future together.”

“I am aware of that.”

She nodded, her gaze shifting to their hands. “Then you must face your fears at some point and trust that I will accept you for who you are.” She paused a moment before saying, “And I must do the same.”

He frowned at this. “What do you mean?”

A shy smile traced her lips. “You are not the only one who is afraid to show your true self. There is something about me that you may not be willing to accept.”

This surprised him. Indeed, he did not believe it. Nothing about her would ever deter him from wanting her in every conceivable way. “I take it that you are not referring to your fondness for opera, for I already know about that.”

She dropped her gaze. “You are right. There is something more.”

He didn’t like the sound of that—the not knowing what sort of stain might tarnish his view of the lady whom he’d come to hold in the highest regard. “What is it?” he managed to ask.

“I will tell you as soon as you are ready to show me your face. One truth in return for another, to test the depth of our affection and whether or not we have a chance for true happiness together.”

He sucked in a breath, unprepared for her suggestion. “You drive a hard bargain, my lady.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded, “but I will not marry a man who cannot appreciate me for who I am, and neither should you.”

“Marry a man? God no!”

Her laughter was immediate, completely unpretentious, and filled with the sort of happiness that was only made possible when one was completely comfortable in the other person’s company. He loved that he’d made her feel that way and couldn’t resist pulling her toward him. Indeed, he’d been struggling not to do so the entire evening, the memory of her warm body from the day before tempting him every second that they were together.

So his arms found their way around her, hugging her close until she was flush against the length of him, her face buried against the black wool of his cloak. He could feel her chest rising and falling just as unevenly as his, her heartbeat vibrating through him until it matched the beat of his own.