“Where are we going, Papa?” Evie peered up at Bran as he guided her across the street toward Hyde Park.

“I told you it’s a surprise.”

“It looks like we’re going to the park. But why?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Bran grinned as they entered the park, barely able to contain his excitement. It was early—barely midmorning—but there were a handful of people milling about. He strode toward where he’d instructed the groom to wait. Ah, there he was.

Evie tugged on his hand. “Papa, you’re going too fast.”

“My apologies.” He’d quickened his gait when he’d seen the groom—and the surprise.

As they drew near, Evie sucked in a breath. “Papa, that’s Miller.” The groom. “And that’s a horse with a child-sized saddle.”

Bran tipped his head to the side. “I think you may be right. Shall we investigate?”

“That’s my surprise!” She pulled her hand from his and started to run, stopping herself almost immediately. Knowing better than to race straight for an animal, she adopted a more sedate pace and approached the horse.

Bran caught up and squatted down beside her. “This is Artemis. Would you like to meet her?”

Evie nodded. She slowly approached the beast and held her hand to the horse’s nose. “It’s nice to meet you, Artemis. I’m Evie. Shall we be friends?” Artemis nuzzled her hand, and Evie giggled. “She likes me, Papa.”

“Of course she does.” He joined her and stroked Artemis’s muzzle. “Would you like to ride her?”

“Now?”

Bran smiled. “Of course. That’s why we’re here. If I’d just wanted to introduce you, I’d have simply done that at the mews.”

“Oh yes, Papa. Will you help me up?”

He lifted her into his arms and set her onto the back of Artemis. Evie perched on the saddle then swung one leg to the other side so that she was situated astride. She tucked her dress under her legs as she always did at home. Rather, in Barbados. Someday he’d stop thinking that. Wouldn’t he? “Now, walk for a few minutes to learn each other. And then nothing over a trot.”

“Yes, Papa.” Evie picked up the reins. “Come on, then, Artemis.” She guided the horse into a gentle walk.

Bran walked abreast of them along the path.

“Oh, she’s magnificent, Papa. Thank you!”

Bran’s heart swelled. It wasn’t home but it was the closest he’d felt yet.

Evie threw him a glance. “I’m going to trot over to that tree, all right?”

He nodded, stopping as he watched her take off, expertly guiding the animal. She had an excellent seat.

“I say, is that your child?”

Bran turned at the query and vaguely recognized the man. “Have we met?”

The man’s lips tipped up, but it wasn’t really a smile. “Yes, at Brooks’s. I’m Talbot. Friend of your brothers.”

That’s right. Annoying chap. “Yes, that’s my daughter.”

“This isn’t an appropriate time to have her riding in the park. In fact, I’m not sure there is an appropriate time. She’s terribly young. Should she even be on a horse?”

Bran’s muscles tensed, and his ire rose. He focused on Evie, who’d turned and was now riding back toward them.

“Good heavens, is she riding astride?”

Evie waved at them, then performed an expert turn to ride back to the tree. She went a bit faster than a trot, but she was so brilliant, he didn’t care.

“Ghastly!” Talbot declared.

Outraged, Bran spun about. “Did you just refer to my daughter as ghastly?”

“Not her, but her activity. Perhaps you simply don’t know better, since you’ve been in the middle of nowhere for—”

Bran advanced on the man with what he hoped was a menacing stare. “We were not in the middle of nowhere, and I know very well how to raise my own child. If I want to allow her to ride her horse astride in Hyde Park on a fair Wednesday morning, I shall.”

Talbot’s eyes widened, but he didn’t retreat. “You can’t talk to me like that.”

“The hell I can’t. You spoke ill of my daughter. Rather, her activity.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s the same to me.”

Talbot sputtered. “I was merely trying to help.”

“I’d say you need to work on honing that skill. If not, you may end up insulting someone to your own detriment.”

Now Talbot’s eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me? Careful, lest you find yourself without allies in this strange land.”

“If you’re referring to yourself, I didn’t count you among them in the first place. Now, take yourself off before I lose my temper.”

Talbot smirked. “You’ll regret this interaction.” He turned on his heel and stalked off.

Bran glared after him. “Doubtful.”

He walked back to where he’d been just as Evie arrived, now at a walk.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“No one important.” He held his hands up and helped her dismount. “You went above a trot.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. She’s so wonderful, Papa.” Her brow furrowed as he set her on the ground. “Are you upset?”

Upset? Not particularly, but definitely agitated. “Why would I be?”

Before he could straighten, she ran her hand over his forehead. “You have those lines when you’re tense. Do you need a massage?”

On the ship, there were several days when Hudson had been ill from the motion of the sea. He’d been unable to perform his daily massage, which had made Bran, well, agitated. Or at least made him more likely to be agitated. Evie had noticed this—she was aware of Bran’s morning massage routine—and had offered to fill in for Hudson. She didn’t have the strength he had, but Bran found it didn’t matter. Just having someone press on certain points, his shoulders, his elbows, his wrists, helped.

Without waiting for him to respond, she took his hand and ran her fingertips over his wrist, squeezing and pressing. He straightened his spine and willed the stress from his body as she worked.

She moved up to his elbow and repeated the treatment. “I can’t reach your shoulders.”

“That’s all right.” He offered her his other arm.

“Yes, everything will be all right, Papa.”

He peered down at her, wondering if all children were as intuitive as her. “I hope so. Are you happy here, Evie?”

“I think so. Most days. Today is a very good day.” She glanced toward Artemis, who was back in the care of the groom. “I have Becky and Jo. They make things better.” She pressed her lips together as she massaged his arm up to his elbow. “Do you have anyone that makes things better?”

Bran’s heart twisted. He didn’t want her worrying about his happiness. That was his job. “I have you.”

“I know. We’ll always have each other. You tell me that all the time.”

He did. “And that’s fine by me.”

“Someday, I’ll get married and live in my own house,” she said. “Who will you have then?”

He squatted down again, and she let go of his elbow. “Evie, my darling girl, that is a very long time from now. I don’t want you to worry about me. I have everything I want. Everything I need. Right here, with you.” He touched the tip of her nose with his forefinger and smiled.

Her eyes—they reminded him so much of the sea around Barbados—narrowed slightly. “I’m still going to take care of you. Someone has to.”

He laughed at the seriousness of her tone. “I am the luckiest of men.” He swung her up into his arms again, lifting her high above his head, making her squeal. “Do you want to ride Artemis back to the mews? Walking only.”

“Yes, please!”

He set her back on the saddle, and the groom led her from the park. Bran walked alongside, his brain churning her words.

Someday, I’ll get married and live in my own house. Who will you have then?

He immediately thought of Jo. The last week had been incredible, truly the best days since he’d arrived in London. Just this morning, Hudson had commented that he’d never seen Bran so relaxed. Their massage time had become quite short over the past few days, he realized.

But there was no future with Jo—according to her. He nurtured a hope that she might be mistaken about her fertility, that where her lousy former husband had failed, Bran would be victorious.

And if he wasn’t? He still needed to find a countess. However, the more time he spent with Jo, the less he was interested in doing so. What sort of earl did that make him?

He wasn’t sure, beyond the sort that allowed his daughter to ride astride in Hyde Park and cause a stir. Bran looked around as they left the park. Had anyone else seen Evie riding? If so, had they arrived at the same conclusion, that Bran was a horrible parent?

A surge of homesickness assailed him. He looked at Evie to gain his bearings once more. Yes, they would always have each other. Thank God for that.

* * *

Jo arrived at Lady Satterfield’s tea in the company of her sister. The countess was known for hosting social events in the late afternoon at which she served tea and cakes. People came to gossip and be seen. Jo had attended a couple of them since arriving in town and had accepted Nora’s invitation to join her today. They were the first to arrive.

Lady Satterfield smiled widely as they entered the drawing room. “Good afternoon, dears! I’m so glad you’ve come.” She hugged Nora. “You are positively radiant, as usual. Pregnancy quite agrees with you.” She turned to Jo. “And I must say you have a look about you—a merry twinkle in your eye, I think. Becoming a governess must agree with you.”

“Yes.” Or maybe it was the nights she spent in bed with her employer. She struggled not to blush at the thought of her wanton behavior. And she didn’t dare look toward Nora who would likely give her a knowing smile. Jo had seen her the other day and had confirmed that their liaison was ongoing.

“Tell me, how is Lord Knighton adjusting to London?” Lady Satterfield asked. He seems to attend about as many Society events as my stepson.”

Nora let out a short laugh. “Not quite as few. Titus, as you know, hasn’t been to a ball since yours at the start of the Season.”

“He doesn’t seem to care much for those sorts of things,” Jo said.

“Ah well, we’ll have to think of another way to get him out and about.” Her brows briefly rose, and she smiled at Nora. “I’ve just the thing. Isn’t it time for you to convince Kendal to host another dinner party?”

“Yes, I think so.” Nora looked at Jo. “Do you think Knighton would come to that?”

Jo wasn’t certain but knew that he liked Titus. “Probably.”

“Excellent,” Lady Satterfield said. “This will be such fun.” The countess’s gaze gravitated to the doorway. “Excuse me, guests are arriving.”

Over the next half an hour, several guests arrived and gravitated around the room in a few clusters. Jo sat among a grouping of several other women, including Nora, when another arrival joined them. It was Bran’s mother.

Her gaze found Jo’s. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Shaw. How surprising to see you here.”

Jo wasn’t certain if she meant any insult but decided not to take it that way. “Good afternoon, Lady Knighton. This is my sister, the Duchess of Kendal.” She gestured to Nora, who sat in the chair beside her.

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. My daughter and your granddaughter have become the best of friends.”

“How fortuitous,” Lady Knighton said with a bright smile. “I’d say Lady Evangeline is making the transition to her father’s new position rather well if she’s befriended the daughter of a duke.” She laughed gently before perching on a settee angled to the side of Jo’s chair.

One of the women in the group addressed the lady beside her. “I heard Lord Talbot saw Lord Knighton in the park yesterday.” She glanced around the circle, her gaze resting for just a moment on Lady Knighton.

Another woman, with dark brown hair and a nose that turned up at the end, walked up behind the one who’d just spoken. “Lord Knighton, you say? Yes, I heard he allowed his daughter to ride astride at Hyde Park yesterday morning. Can you imagine?”

Nearly everyone in the group—with the exception of Nora, Lady Knighton, and, of course, Jo—shook their heads in disapproval.

The woman continued, “And when Talbot—his wife is my dear friend—tried to offer advice on the matter, Knighton practically called him out! It was horrendous. Talbot was mightily offended.”

More condemning looks were exchanged along with a few sounds of disapproval.

“Well, he’s new to all this,” another woman chimed in. “He just needs some guidance. A proper English wife will rein him in.”

Jo stole a look at his mother. The muscles in her face were drawn tight, and she stared at the woman who’d just spoken. Then she let out a sparkling laugh that was as counterfeit as any Jo had ever heard. “He always was Bran the Defiant. That’s what we called him when he was a boy. Getting into scrapes and making trouble.” She waved her hand. “I think he likes the attention.”

Jo masked her horror. Bran would never parade Evie around the park for attention.

The woman with the dark brown hair who’d joined the group blinked, and a bit of color crept into her cheeks as she looked at Lady Knighton. “Are you the earl’s mother?”

Lady Knighton’s answering smile was superior. “I am.”

The blush staining the woman’s cheeks deepened. “My apologies, I meant no offense.”

Everyone stared at Lady Knighton. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

The air was so thick with tension that you could practically see it. Jo darted a speaking glance at Nora, who rushed to say, “I’ve heard him called the Duke of Defiance. Isn’t that dashing?”

The first woman—the one who’d brought up Talbot seeing Bran in the park—clapped her hands together. “Oh, he has a nickname! Like your husband.”

Nora clenched her jaw. “Yes, like my husband.” She threw Jo an apologetic look, realizing too late that perhaps that hadn’t been the right thing to say.

Another woman nodded. “The Duke of Defiance… It does sound dashing. And perhaps a bit dangerous.”

“There’s already a Duke of Danger,” someone else pointed out. She turned to Bran’s mother. “I’m Lady Wolcott. My younger sister is on the Marriage Mart. Will Knighton be going to Almack’s?”

“I’m certain he will at some point. Finding a countess is chief among his priorities since returning to England. He is, as you can imagine, quite busy acclimating to his new title.” Lady Knighton craned her neck and seemed to preen beneath the suddenly sycophantic stares of the rest of the women.

Jo leaned over to whisper in Nora’s ear. “What is it about an available Untouchable that turns perfectly well-mannered women into vultures?”

Nora brought her hand to her mouth to hide a smile. “I don’t know, but it always does.”

“How splendid to hear that he’s searching for a wife,” one of the older women in the group said. “I’ve two daughters, one of whom is a widow. She could transform him—and his daughter—in no time.”

He didn’t need transformation! Irritation burned Jo’s throat as she sought to keep her mouth closed.

Lady Knighton nodded, her features serene but her gaze cool. “Yes, whomever he marries will need to become a mother immediately, if she isn’t already. My granddaughter is lovely, but she does need a feminine hand.”

She had a feminine hand—Jo’s.

Jo couldn’t stand another moment. She vaulted to her feet and left the group. Nora came on her heels, and they retreated to the windows away from eavesdropping ears. Still, Nora spoke softly.

“Are you going to speak to him about allowing Evie to ride astride in the park? He can’t do that.”

“Yes.” But she suspected he wouldn’t care. If he didn’t see a problem with removing his clothing in front of a woman he barely knew, which he’d done with Jo at just their second meeting, he likely didn’t give a fig what anyone thought about Evie riding however she wanted to.

What would he think of the gossip, however? Especially when it came to his daughter? Furthermore, what would he think of his mother adding fuel to the fire?

“I didn’t help matters,” Nora said, as if reading her thoughts. “I was just trying to put him in a more positive light.”

“I know, and I understand.” She just hoped Bran would. She considered not saying anything, but didn’t want him to hear rumors from someone else, though she’d no idea who that would be.

Nora moved to talk with another guest, leaving Jo to contemplate the other part of the conversation—when they’d discussed his marital prospects. Her stomach churned with nausea when she thought of him taking a wife and of that wife becoming Evie’s mother.

She wanted those things.

Yes, she wanted them. Too bad she couldn’t have them.