Jane glanced up as Alaric entered the library. She was afraid to admit how much she was looking forward to discovering the treasures around her. The poor man would think she’d agreed to marry him for his library!

The smile on his face told her everything she needed to know.

“You did it,” she said, moving away from the bookcases to meet him.

“We did it,” he corrected her, taking her hands. “The girls already fell in love with you, just as I did. They needed no convincing to accept you as their mother.”

Jane cocked her head. “Even Larissa?”

“Even Larissa,” he insisted. “It seems she can see you as a mother much easier than a governess.”

Jane laughed. “I always knew that girl was smart. So, what now?”

He released her hands. “Now I have to hire a butler.”

Jane raised her brows. “You sacked Mr. Parsons? I would have liked to see that.”

He chuckled. “Mother beat me to it. I take it he’s already left the castle. You will never have to see him again, Jane.”

She couldn’t help the relief that thought engendered, though she did spare a moment to pity the fellow for his overzealous ways.

“I have a suggestion,” she said to Alaric.

“Someone else Miss Thorn represents?” he asked.

“No,” Jane said. “Someone who cares about you and the girls. We’ll move Mrs. Winters here.”

His smile broadened. “You are going to make an exceptional duchess.”

Her cheeks heated. “As to that, only time will tell, but I intend to do my best to make you proud.”

He gathered her close. “And I intend to do my best to make you happy, Jane. Whatever you want, you have only to ask.”

“In that case,” Jane said, turning up her face, “I’ve been wanting to ask for another kiss since the day you gave me the first one.”

His mouth quirked, as if he fought to stay solemn. “It would be my pleasure.”

He lowered his lips to hers, arms cradling her against him. In his touch, she knew herself loved, cherished. Home.

After all, one should never doubt a duke.

~~~

Meredith Thorn sat in the coffee shop on the corner of Bond Street and Piccadilly, one hand stroking Fortune’s back, the other holding a letter from Jane.

“The Duchess of Wey,” she murmured to the cat. “Who would have thought?”

Fortune raised her head to eye her, blinking copper eyes.

“Oh, you knew all along, did you? A shame most people don’t have your sense.”

The shop bell rang as a young lady entered. Neat grey redingote wrapped about her and simple hat on her honey-colored hair, the woman moved into the shop with the grace of a willow swaying in the breeze. She glanced right and left, as if suspecting spies in each direction, then hurried toward Meredith.

“Miss Thorn?”

Meredith inclined her head. “Miss Ramsey, I take it.”

Patience sank onto the chair. “Yes. I haven’t much time. I’m only given a half hour off every other week.”

“As much as that?” Miss Thorn picked up her cup of coffee. “However do you fill the time? I take it you’d like a more generous position.”

“Please,” Patience said with a sigh. “And somewhere I could do something more useful than carry handkerchiefs.”

Meredith glanced down at Fortune. The cat sprang up onto the table and stalked up to Patience.

“Oh, what a beautiful creature.” She extended her hand as if for a kiss. Fortune sniffed at the worn leather glove, then rubbed her back under the long fingers.

Meredith smiled as she set down her cup. “Yes, I think we can find something for you. Sir Harold Orwell’s aunt is seeking a young lady to help with her scientific experiments. She is in town at present. Let’s pay her a call.” She gathered up Fortune and rose.

Patience scrambled to her feet. “Now?”

“Certainly,” Meredith said. “No time like the present. With any luck, we’ll have you settled by tea. We can discuss terms on the way. Fortune will have to approve of Sir Harry, of course.”

Patience put a hand to her forehead, but she accompanied Meredith to the door. “I thought it was his aunt who needed help.”

Meredith raised an arm to hail a hack. “It never hurts to consider your options, my dear. Now, come along. We mustn’t keep your baronet waiting.”

~~~

Julian Mayes slipped back into the shadows of the alley off Piccadilly. It had been her, his Mary Rose; he was certain of it. Had she any idea how he’d searched for her after learning her cruel cousin had turned her out? He’d once pledged undying devotion, offered to plan his life around her desires. Why hadn’t she reached out to him, then or since? Her expenses were being met somehow, if that fashionable gown was any indication. And Wey had said she was indeed living in Lady Winhaven’s former residence on Clarendon Square. Renting from the heir, perhaps?

Yet why change her name? If she had married, she’d be Mrs. Thorn, not Miss Thorn. And why go into trade? He could not credit her employment agency was overly successful if she had no permanent business address, no client he could find save Jane and the young woman she was with now.

Then there was the way she’d disappeared, just when he began searching for her again. He was thankful to have spotted her now. He’d been passing the coffee shop twice a day for weeks in the hope of catching her.

Now she hailed a hack, young lady in tow, before he could renew their acquaintance. But this time, he resolved, she would not escape him. He called for a coach himself and set off in pursuit. Wey had sent word he intended to marry his Jane. Against all odds, against all reason, love had triumphed. His suspicions had proved groundless, just as Alaric had predicted. For the first time in a long time, he felt the brush of hope.

Now to renew his acquaintance with Mary.

~~~~~~