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"We'll see," Patrick said cryptically before walking out.

The Duke didn't have time for his friend's games. He had just a few minutes to get to get to Lavinia's house and he hoped he could catch her before she left for the night.

He had to reinstate one rule of this arrangement.

As soon as he walked into Hartfield house, the butler bowed and collected his coat and hat.

"If you just follow that hallway, you will end up at Lord Hartfield's study," the man said.

"Thank you," he said. Just as he made to ask if Lavinia was in residence, the lady in question appeared at the top of the stairs.

Victor's breath caught in his throat as the brown haired lady floated down the stairs, looking like a dream in a mint green dress that settled over her curves like she had been poured into it. Her gloves dangled from one hand.

There was something interesting about the muted color of the dress, and the softness of her skin, contrasted with the stubbornness of her face.

"Your Grace," she curtsied as she got to the bottom of the stairs where he stood.

"Lavinia," he took her hand and placed the shadow of a kiss on the inside of one wrist. The feeling of skin against skin made them both freeze for a second.

She flushed, "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to speak to your uncle, but I was hoping I would catch you first."

She glanced over her shoulder before motioning him into a side room and then she shut the door almost the whole way. "Is there a problem?"

The problem was that she was gnawing at her lower lip and he was jealous because he wanted to be the one gnawing on that-

Goddammit!

"There is something I must inform you about before we go ahead with this."

Panic flashed in her eyes, "What is it?"

"What happened today at the park cannot happen again," he whispered, waiting for her to protest or call him out on the fact that she had had no hand in what had happened and he ought to be cautioning himself and not her.

To his surprise, she only lowered her lashes and then nodded, "you're right."

"I will not touch you again, Lavinia. This is not that kind of marriage. You understand? This is-"

"I heard you the first time, Your Grace," she cut in, glancing up at him. A small furrow had formed between her eyebrows and her mouth was pulled tight, "If that is all, I'm afraid I'm going to be late."

Looking like that, he would be shocked if a moron didn't take one look at her and drop to his knees spouting poetry. It would be too late anyway.

"I was thinking my butler had turned into a liar when he announced your arrival," the booming voice of Lord Hartfield said from the door, "I saw the calling card but there was no evidence of the man himself."

The two jerked apart like they had been caught doing something illicit and faced the man that had just joined them.

"Your Grace," Lavinia's uncle bowed then glanced between them suspiciously. "I'm honored to have you in my home. Shall we go to my study?"

"Of course," Victor said then to the brown haired woman, "Come along."

Lord Hartfield's eyes went wide, "I take it this is not a business meeting."

The Duke decided to just come out with it because the man's eyes were starting to go from curious to suspicious to angry and he could only guess what the man was thinking.

His niece was as innocent as ever. And in fact, the Duke planned on her staying that way until-

He hadn't planned that far if he were being honest.