“Have you ever skated before?” Rowena asked as they approached the edge of the lake.

Glancing out over the smooth expanse, Josephine watched the men and women already out on the ice. “Yes, but it has been a while.”

“You will remember how to do it quickly enough,” Snowdon said. “I will see about some skates, shall I?”

Josephine watched him walk away with a sure stride. Heavens, he was handsome, even when seen from behind.

“You’re staring,” Rowena said, nudging her arm.

Josephine blinked. “What?”

“Am I mistaken to think you might be smitten with my brother?”

“Don’t be silly. I am no such thing.”

Taking a seat on a nearby bench, Rowena waited for Josephine to sit beside her. She then crossed her arms and tilted her chin. “You sound soooo convincing.”

Swallowing, Josephine tried to hide her concern. The last thing she wanted was for the duke to be made aware of her growing affections. It would never lead anywhere, which meant she would risk severe humiliation if he ever found out. So she told his sister more firmly, “Your brother and I have been at odds from the moment we met. To suggest I might be smitten with him is absolutely ridiculous considering how infuriating he can be. In fact, I dare say he’s the last man on earth with whom I would ever imagine forming an attachment since—”

“You flatter me, Miss Potter.”

“Oh God.” Josephine squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again. “He’s standing right behind me?” Rowena nodded with mischievous smugness. Josephine cringed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her friend actually grinned – devilish girl. “Where would the fun be in that?” And then to make matters worse, she got up from the bench and immediately yelped before sinking back down. “I think I’ve twisted my ankle.”

Josephine frowned. “Really?” She wasn’t sure how she might have done so.

“Yes…oh yes…ah…it hurts.” Her face twisted into a pained expression. “I am sorry, but I’m afraid you will have to go skating without me.”

“Or,” Josephine said, convinced Rowena was trying to force her to spend some alone time with her brother, “we could go home, so you can get the rest you need.”

“No.” One word, spoken by the duke with accurate precision. “My sister can easily rest her ankle here while you and I go skating.” Leaning over the bench so his head came close to her ear, he whispered, “That should give you ample opportunity to explain your infuriation with me. Or how I have come to be the last man on earth with whom you would ever consider an attachment.”

Heat raced up her spine, and as he rounded the bench and crouched down before her to fasten the skates to her feet, she knew she had to be blushing, not only from embarrassment but also from his touch.

She sucked in a breath, holding it while his fingers worked the leather straps across her boots. One hand steadied her ankle, lingering there so briefly no one would notice the impropriety of it, but long enough for her to feel the careful scrape of his thumb sliding over her stocking. And Lord help her, it did something to her, strange and wonderful things, just as his gaze had done in her parlor. The promise it held, the hint of desire and want, was shamelessly evident in that one touch. It stoked a fire in her core and made her skin tingle in anticipation of more.

Fearing her legs were too weak to carry her weight, she remained where she was while he put on his skates, as well.

She focused on her breaths, deep inhalations to steady her racing heart. And the way she felt in other more intimate places…the curious ache he’d managed to stir with nothing more than the briefest of touches…was horribly distressing. So she sat, quietly listening to Rowena talking about the upcoming Season and how she would love to take Josephine to some balls.

And then the duke was before her once more. “Come,” he said. His expression set in serious lines, he offered her his hand.

With eager reluctance, she allowed herself to accept his assistance. She would not dwell on how perfectly her hand fit into his or how lovely the contact felt. Nor would she ponder the way her body clamored for his attention, for more wicked glances and more discreet touches.

Heavens, she was turning into a veritable wanton, the sort of woman a man might lure into a dark corner and ravish. Most troubling of all, she didn’t mind the prospect of such a thing happening. Not anymore, and certainly not with him.

“You must forgive me for overhearing you earlier,” he began as he led her slowly across the ice. “What you said—”

“Was inexcusably rude. It is I who should be apologizing. The last thing I wish to do is to cause offense, but your sister suggested I might be developing a tendre for you, so I said what had to be said in order to dismiss such a notion.”

“So you’re saying she was wrong to presume such a thing?” His voice was gentle and somewhat curious.

“Of course!”

“Of course?” His hand tightened on hers and he led her around in a wide circle.

“Well, yes.” She laughed, hoping to lighten the mood. Instead, she ended up sounding too nervous, so she aimed at leveling her voice instead. “You’re you and I’m me. It would be an impossible match. Ridiculous even.”

His eyes, all seriousness, met hers. “I do believe you have offended me again.”

Oh dear.

“Forgive me, but surely you must agree. It is a silly idea Rowena has created. I mean, we hardly know each other at all. Certainly not well enough for either of us to consider an attachment of any sort and…” Good God, she had to find a way to stop babbling. “While I appreciate your hospitality and, er, your friendship, I do hope you know I have no designs on you in that way.”

He pulled her along with him. A bit of the tension in his face began to ease. “In what way?”

Flattening her mouth, she frowned at him while they skated back toward the opposite side of the lake. “Must you be deliberately obtuse?”

With a shrug, he allowed a quirk of his lips. “I find your discomfort amusing.”

She shook her head. “I don’t.”

“Not now, perhaps, but I dare say you found it enticing earlier.”

Her heartbeat quickened. “How do you mean?”

“When I helped you with your skates.” He drew her closer, enough for his breath to waft across her cheek when he spoke once more. “Don’t think I did not notice how well you responded to my touch or that I was not aware of how perfectly your wants and desires matched mine the other day in your parlor. We shared a moment there, you and I.”

“What moment?” Her voice was but a gasp of air. “I have no idea as to—”

“When all that remained between us was need—when you were struck by a deeper awareness—so deep you began to understand what it means to want and be wanted in return. I could see it in every facet of your expression—the secret ache for intimate caresses, the carnal desire brightening your eyes.”

She tugged on her arm and he set her free, allowing her to skate on her own before catching up to her again. Her breaths were coming fast and ragged, her fear of where all of this might lead overwhelming her senses.

“Why?” It was all she could think to ask as he came up beside her once more. “Why must you say these things?”

“Because I am tired of pretending there’s no sexual attraction between us, Josephine.”

Her name, spoken with thorough frustration, punctuated everything she felt. Slowing to a halt, she tried to make sense of what his motive might be for such unabashed honesty. Only one thing came to mind, and it was not in the least bit to her liking. “I will not be your mistress,” she said. “I will not allow you to force such a role upon me.”

He stared at her, bewildered. “I would never do so.”

“And yet you did your best to make me hand in my notice at work and later to make me stay at your home. You have tried to get your way with me since the moment we met, but there is nothing you can say or do to make me lower myself to such a…a…disrespectful position.”

“Josephine.” He spoke her name as if it meant everything, as if it encompassed all he might say. “Forgive me. I have behaved poorly. What I said was unforgivable. It will not happen again, I assure you. My only intention was to inform you of how I feel and to make you acknowledge you are not as immune to me as you like to pretend.”

She’d hurt his pride, that much was clear, but even so, she could not accept his reaction. There was no excuse for it. “I have obviously given you the same impression I gave Mr. Roth,” she said, her anger growing with each passing second. “You seem to think I’m the sort of woman who can be lured into bed, either by threatening to discharge me or by offering me a comfortable place to stay.”

Snowdon’s eyes darkened and his features grew tight. “Don’t ever compare me to that miscreant.”

Ignoring his warning, she continued. “I should have known you had an ulterior motive when you invited me to visit your home. What man does such a thing unless he has designs on the woman in question?” She shook her head, acknowledging her own stupidity. “I should have seen it. Perhaps I did, and I chose to overlook it, the prospect of company, warmth, and delicious food too tempting to ignore.” Turning away before he could answer, she started back toward the embankment.

“Josephine…” He came up beside her, denying her the chance to flee his company with dignity.

She quickened her pace. “I do not want more apologies or excuses. My only wish is to go home.”

“But—”

“My house might not be as comfortable as yours, but it is my home—a home I’ve fought to keep—and at least there I will have whatever remains of my reputation.”

“I wish you would stop speaking as though you’re a fallen woman when you are anything but.”

Skidding to a halt at the edge of the lake, Josephine steadied herself before facing him once again. “That is not what people will say if they see us together. If they discover I have moved into your house.”

“As my sister’s guest!”

The outrage with which he spoke only clarified their situation. He wanted her close, and while she secretly wanted the same, she did not trust herself to resist him indefinitely. Eventually, their desire would prompt them to do something foolish, and while he had the power to walk away from such indiscretion without any affect to his reputation, she did not.

“I am sorry,” was all she could think to say, after which she made her way back to the bench and proceeded to take off her skates.

* * *

“What did you tell her?”

Having entered his study seconds earlier, Rowena now stood with her hands on her hips and a disconcerting glower. Devon shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the idea of where this conversation might lead.

“Who?” he asked, trying to think of how best to answer her question.

His sister marched toward him. “Don’t pretend ignorance, Devon. Josephine was furious after the two of you went skating. She is presently preparing to leave our home and refuses to tell me why.”

“Suffice it to say we had a disagreement.” He still felt rotten about his faux pas. If only there were a way for him to take back everything he’d told her.

“A disagreement?”

Sighing, Devon acknowledged Rowena would not let the matter rest without receiving a reasonable explanation. “I told her I like her.”

“And?”

He looked her straight in the eye. “I told her I like her a lot.”

Rowena frowned as she lowered herself to the chair opposite Devon’s. “That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing to cause offense.”

Since she wasn’t getting his subtlety, he told her more directly “It led her to believe I might want to make her my mistress.”

“Good heavens!”

He grimaced. “I never did have a flair for tact.”

“And you clearly don’t have respect for my warnings, either. Did I not tell you to stay on your best behavior? Josephine is a guest in our home, Devon. To proposition her, or whatever it is you did, is utterly disgraceful.”

“You sound like Mama right now.”

“Only because you’ve behaved like the worst sort of reprobate.”

Wincing, he did what he could to turn the conversation around by saying, “You are the one who ensured I would be alone with her on the ice with that ridiculous lie of yours.”

Rowena gave him a chastising glare. “So you could form a closer attachment to her if you wished to do so. It never occurred to me you might muck it up with vulgar insinuations.”

Hating himself for what he’d done, Devon stood and went to pour himself a brandy. “Would you care for some port?”

“No thank you. What I want is for you to fix this.”

He blew out a deep breath. “I already tried to apologize.”

“And?”

“I think doing so made her angrier.”

“Hmm.” Devon waited for Rowena to continue speaking while taking a sip of his drink. She eventually said, “That must mean she didn’t believe you were being sincere.”

“Honestly, I feel terrible about the whole thing. But my pride was wounded when I overheard her telling you I’m the last man on earth with whom she would ever consider an attachment. I wanted to prove her wrong.” And in doing so, he’d betrayed the gentlemanly code of conduct with which he’d been raised. “Mama would be horrified if she found out. Promise me you’ll keep this between the two of us?”

“Of course.” Rowena leaned back in her seat with a sigh and contemplated Devon. “You need to figure out what Josephine wants, and I don’t mean flowers or a trip to the opera, because that is too easy. Any man with a moderate income can give her those things.”

“I am well aware, Rowena.” As if he hadn’t drawn the same conclusion days earlier.

“Then...?”

“I need to leave for a few days.” It was the first thing that came to mind.

Rowena sat up straight. “What?”

“If I go to the hotel, you’ll be able to convince her to stay. She will feel more comfortable doing so–obliged, even, since you’ll be alone otherwise–while I’ll have the distance required to think more clearly on how to proceed.”

“But—”

“I’m right about this,” he said, convinced he was doing what was best for Josephine and any potential future he might have with her. “Does absence not make the heart grow fonder?”

“Maybe?”

“Then it is settled. You may inform her of the change in plan.” In the meantime, he would set his mind to romancing the woman from a distance, since staying close to her was clearly not helping.

* * *

Josephine accepted the letter the butler brought her and carefully sliced it open. It had been three days since the duke had gone away and she’d agreed to stay on at Snowdon House. Three days without having to argue with him.

She ought to be relieved. She ought to be glad it was only her and Rowena now, without him there to cause her unease. She ought not to miss him. Especially since she and Rowena had been occupied with outings. They had gone to visit one of Rowena’s friends, the Countess of Riply, who’d elected to stay in London with her husband for the winter. The couple was in the process of setting up a charitable foundation for orphans and hoped to finish by March, so they would be ready to encourage donations as soon as the rest of the ton returned.

After this visit, Rowena had taken Josephine to the British Museum, where they had spent hours strolling between magnificent marble statues and admiring stunning paintings. Her mind should have been occupied—enough for her to stop dreaming of Snowdon.

And yet, in spite of her better judgment, she could not steer her contemplations away from him. She missed his handsome face, his reluctant smiles, and the warmth with which he watched her. She missed their conversations, even if they didn’t always agree. And she missed the way she felt whenever he was near: appreciated, desired, beautiful.

So she read the letter, savoring every second of the experience, from the unfolding of the paper to her perusal of the elegant script.

My dearest Josephine,

I hope this letter finds you happy and in good health.

In good health yes, but happy? Not really.

Please know you are in my thoughts, every second of every day. If there were a way for me to go back – to reverse the hands of time – and avoid offending you as grievously as I did, I would do so. But I cannot, which leaves me with only one hope: to one day earn your forgiveness.

Some might think it unreasonable for me to be so enamored with you after only a brief acquaintance.

Josephine blinked. He was enamored?

But the truth is, I long to hear your laughter again and to see you blush when I subject you to my attention. I even miss your set downs, the fire in your eyes when you are angry. Most of all, however, I wish I had the opportunity to get to know you better and perhaps then realize the dream steadily building within my heart since the moment we met.

Until I see you again, I remain affectionately yours,

Devon

Josephine’s heart fluttered in response to his given name, boldly penned across the bottom. The dream steadily building within my heart. It sounded so utterly romantic, she feared she might melt right there on the sofa. But what did it mean? To what dream was he referring? She dared not allow herself to hope, but he had written that he remained affectionately hers. Who would do such a thing unless there was an emotional investment surpassing the bounds of friendship?

Puzzled, she refolded the letter and wondered what the duke might be playing at. Which was how Rowena found her several minutes later when she entered the room. “I’ve a note from my brother,” she said as she went to the bell pull and rang for a maid. “He asked if we would join him for dinner tomorrow evening at the hotel.”

“He made no mention of it in the letter he sent me.”

Rowena’s gaze shifted to the neatly folded paper in Josephine’s lap. Her eyebrows went up. “He wrote you?”

“I suppose it is rather surprising.”

Something curious lit behind Rowena’s eyes. “How many lines?”

Confused, Josephine frowned. “What?”

“How many lines?” Rowena repeated.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because my brother is famous for dispatching one sentence notes. Here is what I received, in case you doubt me.” She handed Josephine a piece of paper with one short sentence: Dinner at the Park View tomorrow evening? Devon. “What he will not do is write a letter with words filling an entire page. So if you received one, Josephine, it has to be because he cares for you a great deal.”

She’d suspected it from his phrasing alone, but it had never occurred to her that receiving a letter from the duke was such a rare thing, she might be the only woman in the world to ever have done so. The thought of it made her heart swell and her entire body warm with appreciation. Because it wasn’t just a question of him caring for her. It was a question of him showing her the extent to which he did so. And while she’d been hurt by the prospect of him wanting only seduction, she was starting to realize his physical need might be intrinsically tied to his growing fondness for her as a person. And if that were the case…

“May we accept the invitation?”

“By all means.” A maid arrived, and Rowena asked for some tea to be brought up, before addressing Josephine once more. “But I was of the impression you did not wish to share Devon’s company.”

“I didn’t.”

“Past tense. How fascinating.”

Josephine raised her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “Very well, I will admit I might have changed my mind.”

Rowena snorted and came to join her on the sofa. “That must have been quite the letter he wrote.”

It was, written by quite the man, a man whom Josephine now looked forward to seeing with great anticipation. If only to let him know she felt exactly the same way as he.