Amelia was halfway through her breakfast when Pierson came to announce that the Duke of Coventry had come to call.

“That is rather early,” Lady Everly said. She returned her teacup to its saucer. “We are not expecting him to arrive for another three hours.”

“He is asking for a private word with Lady Amelia.” Pierson’s expression conveyed no hint of his opinion on such an unusual occurrence. “Shall I show him to the parlor?”

“Please do.” Lady Everly pushed herself out of her chair as soon as Pierson had exited the room. She looked at Amelia. “Stay here until I return.”

Nodding, Amelia watched her leave the room.

“What do you suppose all of this is about?” Juliette asked.

Amelia met her inquisitive gaze. “I’ve no idea.”

“But you do know why Lady Everly has gone to speak with him first.”

The way in which her sister said it suggested that Amelia should have some idea, except she didn’t. “Not the faintest.”

Juliette rolled her eyes. “Think about, Amelia. He arrives unexpectedly and asks to meet with you in private? Lady Everly obviously went to inquire about his intentions.”

“Which would be what, exactly?” A distinct tone of annoyance had slipped into her voice because she now sensed where this conversation was going. “He hasn’t come to propose, if that is what you are thinking.”

“He might have,” Juliette said with a hopeful smile.

Pushing her plate aside, Amelia leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms with a huff. “No, he might not. And please stop insisting that he feels enough for me to ever do so.”

“I think you’re wrong about that.”

“On what grounds?” Amelia stared across at her sister.

She shrugged, then took a sip of her tea. “It’s just a feeling I have.”

A feeling. What good did that do when Amelia had a long list of facts stacked against the possibility of Coventry ever making her that sort of offer? First, her background made her completely unsuitable. Second, she was too independent for his liking. Third, he found her aggravating, as evidenced by the fact that she’d been subjected to his temper three times already in little over a week. Fourth, he had no desire to marry anyone—he’d told her as much. And fifth, he was a duke for heaven’s sake! She might as well set her sights on the Pope for all the difference it made to her chances of success.

“Amelia?”

Blinking, Amelia realized Lady Everly was talking to her. She must have entered without her noticing. “Yes?”

“You need to hear what Coventry has to say. As long as you leave the parlor door open, I have no issue with the two of you being alone for a moment.”

Unsure about Lady Everly’s somber tone, Amelia hesitated. She glanced at Juliette, who shook her head as if to say that she no longer had any idea of what to expect.

“Very well.” Amelia got to her feet and made her way toward the door. For reasons she couldn’t explain, it felt as though she was heading for the gallows. Which made her wonder if she might have done something else that he did not approve of—something of which she was not yet aware.

By the time she arrived in the parlor, she almost expected him to look tense and irritable. “Coventry?”

He was standing by one of the windows, looking out onto the street. At the sound of her voice, he turned around and faced her, revealing a face that bore no resemblance to the one she’d seen when last they’d met.

“Bloody ’ell!” The words were out before she could stop them, the shock of seeing his eyes outlined in shades of blue and purple so shocking, she forgot herself completely. Another bruise colored the left side of his jaw while a vertical line of dark red upon his lip suggested he’d been bleeding. “What ’appened?”

“What happened?”

Befuddled, she shook her head. Was he seriously correcting her English right now? Slowly, she moved toward him. “Were you attacked?” It seemed like a logical question, given his appearance.

To her surprise he grinned, though only for a second. “No. I engaged in a boxing match at the Black Swan last night.”

She could only stare at him before calmly asking, “Are you mad? You’re an aristocrat, Coventry. You don’t belong in that place.”

“Perhaps not, but I needed the sport.” Before she could ask him why, he quickly changed the subject. “But I am not here for you to study my rare coloring. Rather, there is a matter of great importance I must discuss with you.” When she waited for him to continue, he gestured toward a nearby armchair. “Perhaps you will be more comfortable sitting down?”

Her heart lurched as a rush of foreboding swept through her body. “What is this about?”

“I will tell you in a moment.” Again, he swept his hand toward the chair. “Please.”

Unsure of where this was going, Amelia moved across the floor on leaden feet and took her seat. He, on the other hand, remained standing. Something intense brewed in his eyes. She saw he was clenching and unclenching his jaw, and the action only put her all the more on edge.

“What is it,” she finally asked, unable to stand the anticipation of what he would say for one more second.

He drew a deep breath before he spoke. “There has been an incident.”

His solemn tone made her insides wither. “What are you saying?”

“The house you bought caught fire last night.”

Every hope she’d had of him not conveying some terrible news was gone in a heartbeat. She shook her head. “No. That cannot be.”

“I saw it with my own eyes. When I arrived at the scene, the fire brigade was already doing their best to put it out, so I stopped to help pump water.”

“But . . .” Breathing was suddenly difficult. “Is it . . .” Oh God, she could barely bring herself to ask the necessary questions.

“It was not burned to the ground, if that is what you wish to know. In fact, the entire structure is still standing due to how quickly the flames were brought under control. But there is some considerable damage.” Moving toward her while she processed that bit of information, he paused by her side. And then, quite unexpectedly, she felt his hand settle upon her shoulder.

It was both comforting and disconcerting, the inappropriateness of the gesture quite forgotten by her as it shoved her misgivings aside, replacing them with a keen sense of solidarity—an unspoken promise that they would get through this together. It was so touching she feared she might weep. So she bowed her head, hoping to hide the emotion that no doubt showed in her eyes.

“I thought you might like to go to see it for yourself. If anything, doing so may help put your mind at ease since I do believe the house can be saved.”

Gulping a breath of air, she clutched the armrest and gave a curt nod. “Yes. I believe you’re quite right.” Disregarding how weak she felt—as though it was she who had taken a beating instead of him—she rose to her feet on legs that did not feel capable of carrying her weight. Still, she forced her spine into a rigid line and pushed up her chin. “Allow me to ready myself and to inform Lady Everly of our outing. I’ll only be a moment.”

When she’d completed her tasks, she found him waiting in the foyer, ready to depart. With all of the riotous emotions that had attacked her during the last half hour, she’d hardly had time to notice how dashing he looked in a burgundy jacket and charcoal breeches. And although his face did look like a bad artist’s canvas, there was no denying his handsome features—that ever-present glint of responsibility that shadowed his eyes or the terribly attractive curve of his mouth.

Catching herself, she allowed him to escort her outside to his carriage. Her palm settled comfortably against his as he helped her alight, and when he settled himself across from her, she could not help but wonder what it might be like to have him touch her with greater insistence. What a silly thing to even consider at a time such as this.

“Does it hurt?” she asked a moment after the carriage had set off down the street. “Your face, that is.”

“Not too much. It looks worse than it feels.”

“Did you at least win?”

He smirked. “I did indeed.”

“Good.” Her concrete nod made him smile. “But I still don’t see why you had to go there. The neighborhood isn’t safe, Coventry. Any number of terrible things could have happened to you, given your appearance.”

“Oh?”

“You cannot hide your wealth, which could have made you an easy target for any number of villains.”

“Not too easy of a target, I should hope.” He leaned forward. “Or is your opinion of me so low that you think me incapable of surviving a few unpleasant muggers?”

“Of course not. But there are murdering scoundrels there too, men who would not hesitate to use a knife if it got them what they wanted.”

“And knowing this,” he said while leaning closer still, “you had no qualms about going there yourself without escort.”

She saw the mistake she had made in her argument, but that didn’t change the fact that the more she thought about his little adventure the previous evening, the more it worried her, because really, what if something had happened? What if he’d been cornered and killed? Such incidents were not unheard-of.

“I went during the day and I did not actually enter St. Giles.”

“Even so, you are a woman, and therefore at far greater risk than I would ever be.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Coventry. Why must you be so difficult?”

He looked at her with a thoroughness that immediately made her regret the outburst. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and then he quietly said, “Perhaps because your actions insist that I have to protect you from even yourself.”

“And who will protect you from yourself?” She stared into his dark brown eyes. “Who will be there to stop you the next time you think of asking a stranger to ruin your handsome face?”

The edge of his mouth tilted. “You think me handsome?”

She watched his gaze change to a warmer shade, the effect of it sending a dart of heat straight to her belly. Her stays felt suddenly tight against her breasts, and her throat had grown uncomfortably dry. Awareness crackled in the space between them. Why on earth did she have to say that?

Deliberately sitting back, she looked away and responded crisply. “In an ordinary sort of way.” She dared not glance at him while she sat there staring at nothing in particular, for she could feel him watching her with a closeness that threatened to reveal everything she felt for him. Which was something she simply could not allow.

Eventually, he shrugged. She wasn’t sure how she knew that he did so, but there was something about the way in which the air shifted and the carefree tone of his voice as he said, “Then I must confess that I find your face enchanting. In an equally ordinary sort of way.”

Without thinking, her eyes shot toward his, only to find that his face was even closer now than it had been before. “You are impossible,” she said, since staying silent would do her no good at all.

“No more than you, I imagine.”

His hand came up, the astonishing touch of his fingers against her cheek jarring her senses and sending her reeling. Her breath caught in her throat. A series of shivers caressed her skin. If only she could keep her stomach from rolling over so she could enjoy the intimacy of the moment a little. Instead, she remained completely stiff and unsure. What was he doing and what did he expect her to do? She really wasn’t the least bit sure, but the studious look in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a dangerous gleam that excited her while at the same time filled her with no small amount of trepidation.

“Whatever shall we do?” He asked the question as if to himself—the contemplative tone hinting at deep thought and consideration.

“I . . . I . . .” I cannot speak. You’ve addled me with your nearness.

“Hmm . . .” His gaze dropped to her mouth, the color of his eyes now concealed behind lowered lashes. The air grew thick around them, and once again, Amelia struggled to breathe as she began to detect his intention. He would kiss her. Right here in the carriage. She didn’t even care about the reason behind such abandon or the consequences that were sure to follow. All she could do was wait, her entire body perched on the edge of her seat while her heart threatened to burst from her chest and—

The carriage drew to a shuddering halt and Coventry quickly leaned back. “We are here.” Hard lines masked any hint of longing on his part, the look in his eyes now one of practical determination and resolve. It was as if the moment had never happened—as if all it had been was a figment of her own imagination.

And yet . . . And yet, she could not deny the lingering feel of his fingers against her cheek or the craving that had consumed her seconds ago. It had not been of her own making, but of his. He had instigated it. His eyes had reached inside her to confirm it, and when she stepped down from the carriage, assisted by the steady touch of his hand, she realized he’d shown her something she’d never thought to inspire in him until now: unrestrained desire.

The revelation was so acute it forced her to suck in a breath. For a second, she went completely still, her hand still clasping his while she pondered this new idea. Was it really possible? Glancing up, she considered his expression. It showed no hint of such emotion, yet she’d felt it, she was absolutely certain of it.

“My lady.” His tone was gentle but curt, reminding her of time and place, and the fact that she ought to release his hand.

She did so swiftly, all thought of a mutual attraction evaporating the instant she turned to look at her house. Her hands came up to cover her mouth and drown out the cry that escaped as she took in the scene. Black patches marred the wall above two of the window frames. The front door was charred, and the lock appeared to have been broken, no doubt so the firemen could get in and put out the flames.

Disheartened, Amelia climbed the steps and went inside, her heart plummeting even further at the sight she beheld. The stairs had collapsed in a pile of debris that now sat in a pool of water. Lifting the hem of her gown, she walked on through to the parlor, the library, the ballroom and finally the dining room. With each step she took, she felt her heart drop a little bit more. There was water everywhere, and most of the window frames had been burned away, the glass gone to leave nothing but gaping holes in the walls.

An ache began to fill her as she thought of the extra expenses. At least one wall would have to be torn down completely, and parts of the floors and ceilings that had looked fine before now bore evidence of irreparable damage. By the time she came to a halt before the glassless dining-room windows and looked out into what had once been an overgrown garden, she felt raw inside. Not a hint of color remained. Everything was encased in black.

“We can fix this.” Coventry’s voice summoned her attention but failed to lift her spirits. He came to stand beside her.

She continued to look out at the hopeless display of destruction. “I suspect it would cost a small fortune to do so. Certainly more money than I have at my disposal.” Her voice took on an absent tone as she fought the pain that threatened to swamp her.

“Listen to me.” When she failed to respond to his demand, he turned her with the force of his hands so he could look at her directly. His features were set in firm lines, portraying a keen determination that she completely lacked at that moment. “We can fix this. The house is not beyond repair, and I will happily supply the necessary funds until you are able to pay me back through your fund-raising.”

She stared at him in surprise. “Why would you do that?”

“Does it matter?”

Exhausted from having to recognize that she had failed before she’d really begun and now faced with a good solution, she did not feel like arguing with him. So she shook her head. “No. I suppose not. But you are assuming that my fund-raising events will be successful enough to cover the expense. Your plan is not without risk.”

“No.” He gave her a fleeting smile. “I don’t suppose it is. But I believe this is more important to you than any amount of money will ever be to me.”

Her composure finally crumbled in response to his undeniable generosity, and when the first tears rolled down her cheeks, he pulled her into his arms. With her face snug against the soft wool of his jacket, she inhaled and found herself cocooned in a rich fragrance of musk and sandalwood. One hand settled against her waist, holding her to him while the other soothed along her spine. It was lovely, this intimate closeness. She could feel the strength in his shoulders and chest as she leaned a bit closer, pressing more firmly into the warm embrace he offered.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” Her words were muffled against his jacket, but he heard her nonetheless.

“No need. I am simply happy to ease your concerns.”

A few more seconds ticked by before she reluctantly pulled away. “Forgive me,” she felt compelled to say, “I was overwrought by the shock of it all.”

Reaching up, he tucked a loose curl behind her ear and looked at her with such overwhelming kindness she almost started crying once more. “There is absolutely nothing to forgive since you have done nothing wrong. If anything, I overstepped, though I do believe circumstance will forgive me for doing so.”

“Without a doubt,” she agreed. There was no hint of the heated longing with which he’d regarded her in the carriage, only a friendly countenance. It made her wonder if she’d been wrong to suppose he might ever have thought to kiss her. She’d been so certain before, but if she’d been right, now would have granted him apt opportunity. Yet there was nothing to suggest he even considered such a thing.

Unsure of what to make of that, she chose to set her mind elsewhere. “Can you please inform the laborers today that we are ready to take them on? I would like them to start work as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” They walked out to the foyer where they exited the house and returned to the carriage. “Does Monday still suit you in terms of visiting the lumber mill, glazier and stone mason?”

“Yes. I have no other plans for that day.”

He nodded. “I would recommend you take some time either today or tomorrow to consider your first fund-raising event. Lady Everly can advise you, but I think it would be good to start engaging people in your project.”

“I will attend to it as soon as I get home. Thank you, Coventry. Your kindness today has been such a comfort while your friendship . . . I cannot tell you how much it means to me.” Even though it would never be nearly enough. With Coventry, she would always long for more.