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Dawson paled. “You want to meet her here? Now?”

“That’s what I want to discuss with you,” Conor said. “Perhaps we could go inside?”

“Oh,” Dawson said. “Oh, yes. Of course. I apologize, My Lord.” He stepped back, admitting Conor into the house. “I’m afraid it’s a bit untidy. Had I known you were coming, I would have—” He trailed off, perhaps unsure of exactly what he would have done to prepare for the arrival of an earl in his home.

“Not to worry,” Conor said easily. “Is there a place we might sit down and discuss the matter at hand?”

“Come into my study,” Dawson suggested.

Conor followed Dawson down a dimly lit hall and into a small room lined with bookshelves. Dawson lit several candles, then took a seat at a large oak desk, indicating that Conor should sit opposite him. He shifted several books out of the way, then leaned across the desk.

“I assume you are considering taking me up on my offer,” he said. “Or you would have had no need to come here.”

Conor nodded. “I am considering it,” he said. “But I have some stipulations.”

Dawson nodded wearily. “You’d better tell me,” he said. “Let’s see whether or not we can come to an agreement.”

Chapter 9

Astrid knew she ought to stay in her room and wait for her father to let her know what was going on. That was what he would have told her to do, if she had asked him.

But she wasn’t about to ask.

She crept from her room at the sound of the knock on the door and stood on the landing, listening as her father addressed the visitor. The name, when he spoke it, struck her like a slap.

Lord Middleborough.

He’s here. He’s come to give Father his answer.Suddenly, it all felt so real. What would happen? Would he be taking her away with him this very day?

That couldn’t be how it worked. Surely, she would be given some time, at least, before being sent to his home. Some time to prepare. Some time to say goodbye to her old life.

And there will have to be a wedding,she reminded herself.We’ll need time to plan that.Her racing heart began to slow. No, she probably was not going to be taken away today. She would probably have some time.

Or maybe he came here to refuse Father’s offer. That was certainly possible. Her father hadn’t exactly sounded happy to see the man. Maybe his machinations were about to be thwarted. Maybe Lord Middleborough was telling him no.

I need to know more. I need to find out what’s going on down there.

She heard the two of them moving toward her father’s study and crept down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. She was able to catch a glimpse of them as they disappeared down the hall and into the study.

Lord Middleborough was tall, several inches taller than her father. He had a shock of red hair, and she could tell by his build that he was probably very strong. A little thrill ran through her, and Astrid wasn’t sure if the feeling was fear or something else.

The door to the study closed behind the two men.

But Astrid wouldn’t be so easily thwarted. She pulled on her shoes and left the house through the back door, the one that opened onto their private garden.

The garden had been her father’s idea—a way for Astrid to spend time out of doors without having to risk being seen by the public. The high walls around the little patch of land protected her from prying eyes. As a child she had explored here, gathering wildflowers and collecting pretty rocks. Now it served as a quiet place to read, a place of reflection and sanctuary when she wanted to get out of the house.

But the garden had another purpose too, one Astrid felt sure her father had never considered the fact that she could see through the window of his study from here. Ordinarily, she never peeked—she had no reason to—but today she wanted to know exactly what was going on in that room.

She crept to the window, trying to stay quiet, and crouched down below it. Then, slowly and carefully, she raised her eyes above the level of the sill to see through the glass.

The first thing that caught her attention was Lord Middleborough’s face.

He was almost impossibly handsome. To begin with, he wasyoung. She had envisioned an older man, someone near her father’s age, but this man couldn’t have been much older than she was. His skin was clear, and his eyes shone, a bright green color that seemed to sparkle even through the window. A smattering of freckles lay across his cheeks like a constellation.

He was leaning in toward her father and speaking, and Astrid could tell, even without hearing what was being said, that Lord Middleborough had command of the conversation. His face was set. Her father, meanwhile, was shrinking away in his chair as though frightened or intimidated.

Whatever the Earl wants is what’s going to happen,Astrid realized.My father can’t stand up to him. She loved her father, but she knew that he was a weak man. Lord Middleborough would be able to get what he wanted, and probably without much effort.