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A scratch came at his door, and Heath looked up at the sound. “Come,” he called.

His study door opened and his butler stepped over the threshold. “Mr. Lockwell for you, milord.”

“Ah.” Heath rose from his spot and gestured his man back into the corridor. “Do send him in, Phelps.”

“Of course, milord.”

A moment later, Damien Lockwell, his old friend, ambled into the study, wearing a rather smug expression, truth be told. “Guess who won brilliantly at hazard tonight?” his friend asked.

Heath chuckled as he reached for a decanter of whisky. “Just tonight? I’ve never known you to do poorly at hazard,” he replied, pouring his friend a generous amount of the amber liquid.

Damien nodded in thanks as he accepted the drink. “I am rather lucky in most things, hazard included,” he agreed. Then he dropped into a seat across from Heath’s desk. “You looked bemused when I walked in the door. Did you forget I was to visit this evening?”

Heath shook his head. “No. I just received the strangest missive from Andrew Whitton is all. I’m not quite sure what to make of it.”

“Hmm.” His friend took a swallow of his whisky. “What do you mean strange?”

Heath retrieved the letter from his desk and offered it to his friend. “You read it and you tell me.”

Damien’s brow furrowed as he scanned the letter. “My dearest Heath?” He laughed and then touched a hand to his heart with a theatrical flourish. “I am wounded. I thought you weremydearest Heath.”

Heath rolled his eyes. “Grandpapa?” He gestured once again to the letter. “Can you imagine Drew Whitton referring to old Danby as ‘Grandpapa’?”

Damien smirked as he handed the letter back to Heath. “Perhaps he’s already in Bedlam and managed to get a note smuggled out.”

“He was in France, last I heard.”

“The French can drive the sanest man mad.”

“Apparently,” Heath agreed. Still, the letter didn’t sound like Drew at all, not the man he’d known since they were both at Eton. Then again, Drew hadn’t quite been himself when he’d set out across the Channel last year either. Even so, Drew’s previous state of melancholy didn’t make the note make any more sense than not. The words didn’t sound like Drew in the least. Not at all. They were too…flowery, if that made any sense.

“Well—” Damien gestured towards the very strange letter— “are you going to go? To Danby Castle, I mean?”

“I suppose I will.” Heath sat on the edge of his desk. “Drew did ask me to ‘rescue’ him. What sort of friend would I be if I abandoned him to his own family?”

“Speaking like a man who hasn’t a family to call his own. You, in this, my friend, are the lucky one. Family can be a bloody nuisance.”

Heath snorted. “You make me sound as though I was found in a cabbage patch. Ididhave a family.” He was just the only one left, was all. Drew was right. He would be all alone at Christmas this year, just like he had been last year and the year before that. But not if he truly traveled north to Yorkshire.

Damien took another sip of whisky. “You know, I can’t imagine Drew asking anyone to ‘rescue’ him either. Doesn’t sound like him at all.”

Truly, it didn’t. Heath sighed, relieved that Damien thought the same of the note. At least he hadn’t gone mad, himself.

“I think I’ll tag along with you,” Damien said. “How bad can the Whitton extended family actually be?”

Heath had no idea. He really only knew Drew’s immediate family. Lord and Lady Norland were kind, if a bit rigid. Lord Philip was pleasant enough, for one slightly obsessed with music, and the twins were adorable little cherubs. Then again… “Danbyishis grandfather.”

“You mean ‘Grandpapa’, don’t you?” Damien asked drolly.

Heath couldn’t help but chuckle. “By all means, come with me to Yorkshire. You can help me rescue our good friend from his dreaded cousins.”

“And escape my own family in the process. What an excellent suggestion. I’m so glad I thought of it.”

CHAPTER2

From a turret,Emma noticed a coach approaching the castle. She strained her eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Heathfield crest from the distance, to no avail. The conveyance probably belonged to one of her many cousins, but itcouldbelong to Lord Heathfield. And her heart sped up at that particular thought.

Had he decided to accept her invitation…? Well, Drew’s invitation, if she was being completely honest. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too put out that Drew wasn’t home yet. And hopefully, he’d decide he couldn’t live without Emma before Drew ever returned. Because if Drew returned before Heathfield had a chance to fall in love with Emma, and if he mentioned his summons to Drew… Emma shook her head, refusing to waste her time entertaining such thoughts. She’d simply have to make Heathfield fall in love with her before Drew returned home.