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Low chuckles went around the table. Phoebe Evesham was a formidable lady, and a good friend.

She’d never met her match, though, until Marcus had returned.

Still he’d had his work cut out for him.

Kit didn’t ever want to have to work as hard to convince a lady to marry him as his friend had.

All of his friends, it seemed, had spent an inordinate amount of time courting the ladies who were now their wives.

Although they’d grown up together, Rutherford had had a devil of a time convincing Anna to wed him.

Kit shuddered when he thought of what Huntley had gone through to make his forced marriage to Caro work.

Kit wanted only to fall in love and wed without all the attendant drama.

Beefsteaks arrived for the table, and they spent the next hour or so discussing what they’d been doing during the winter and their plans for this Season. When they’d finished, Kit made his excuses. “I’ll see you shortly.”

He strode north on St. James Street, then turned right onto Jermyn Street. His rooms were in the center of the block. Taking the stairs two at a time he bellowed, “Piggott, get packed, we’re leaving.”

Wiping his hands on a cloth, Piggott stepped from Kit’s bedchamber into the main room. “For how long, where are we going, and when do we depart? ”

“About three weeks, perhaps more. Northumberland. It’s going to take a week to get there. You will leave as soon as you’ve packed my father’s traveling coach. I must stop by Dunwood House first. I’ll find you on the road. I’m taking the curricle.”

Piggott’s jaw dropped. “All that way, sir?”

“Damned if I’ll be cooped up in a coach for a week. No one would be able to bear me, not even myself.”

“May I inquire as to the rush?”

“I’ll tell you later. At present, I must cry off from all my engagements. Pack me a bag with what I’ll need if we get separated, including my buckskin breeches. No need to wear Town togs while traveling.”

Sitting at his writing table, Kit removed his gloves.

Well, at least this got him out of Town and freed him from bride hunting.

Guilt attempted to take hold, and he shook it off.

Who the devil would have the unmitigated presumptuousness to pose as his wife?

If she were not an actual lady—and it was difficult to imagine a member of the aristocracy behaving in such a way—she must be awfully talented to fool Lady Bellamny, and no matter what her background, the woman would have to be a bold piece.

The sooner he got on his way, the sooner he would have the answers to his questions.

Perhaps he would run down Lady B and try to pry more information out of her.

On second thought, that would involve her more than he wished.

She was trying enough. He certainly did not want her meddling in his affairs.

Despite what he’d said to his mother, Kit did not wish anyone matchmaking on his behalf, nor did he want to run the risk of meeting the young lady residing with her.

He wanted to punch something or someone.

It was a shame he did not have the time to go to Jackson’s.

He could not believe a lady was masquerading as his wife—only an experienced charlatan would be able to pull off a deception like that.

Not to mention that no lady would demean herself so, and take such a risk with her reputation.

Whoever she was, she wouldn’t be there for much longer.

As he sealed the last missive, the clock chimed three. Piggott had departed at least half an hour ago. Kit would be another hour leaving London, but they’d travel until it was almost dark.

His groom, Dent, knocked on the door and entered. “All’s ready, sir.”

Kit picked up the notes and his bag, and followed the groom out to the street, where his curricle was waiting.

After leaving the messages with his father’s butler, he drove to Dunwood House in Grosvenor’s Square, where the Eveshams lived during the Season.

Dent jumped off as Kit drew the horses to a halt before climbing down. “I won’t be long.”

As soon as he entered the house, he could hear voices and laughter, high and low, coming from the back.

“My lord.” Wilson, the Dunwood butler, bowed. Kit was shown to a large, noisy drawing room filled with parents and children. Who would have thought his friends would be so prolific?

Phoebe took him by the arm, leading him into chaos. “Kit, I’m so glad you were able to come. Marcus told me you must be on your way soon.”

“Yes, forgive me, but it is unavoidable.”

She smiled. “It’s no matter. If you need anything, send a message. Come and I’ll introduce you to Eugénie Wivenly, and you must see Serena and Robert’s little girl. She is adorable.”

Kit hadn’t realized how tense he was until the thought of Beaumont with a daughter made him want to laugh again. Eugénie, Lady Wivenly, turned out to be a stunning young French woman who obviously had Wivenly wrapped around her slender fingers. Kit had never thought to see his friend so besotted.

Little Miss Elizabeth Beaumont gazed at him with serious green eyes, but it looked as if she’d have her mother’s auburn hair.

She grabbed onto the finger he gave her.

“It is my pleasure to meet you, Miss Beaumont.” Turning to Serena, he smiled.

“She is as beautiful as her mother. I predict she’ll run Robert ragged. ”

Serena gave a peal of laughter. “She already is. I pity the man who falls in love with her.”

He kissed Elizabeth’s brow. A longing for a family of his own suddenly surged up inside him. As soon as he got rid of the doxy living at Rose Hill, he’d make a point of forgetting about Lady Mary and find a woman with whom he could share his life and raise a family.

Mary pushed back the wide-brimmed straw hat she wore for gardening, stripping off her gloves before taking the glass of lemonade from Simons. “I think it’s coming along.”

“Indeed it is, my lady. I haven’t seen the garden look so good in a great many years.”

Daniels, the gruff, wiry old head gardener, leaned on a shovel. “ Won’t see all of what her la’yship has done ’til summer and next year, but she’s got some talent, she has.”

The warmth rising in her cheeks stopped as she realized she wouldn’t be here to enjoy the fruits of her efforts. If only she could return here after her Season. Glancing up at the sky, she supposed it to be close to five o’clock. Past time she should be dressing for dinner.

She finished the glass, handing it back to Simons. “Daniels, I think we had a good day.”

“Yes, my lady. We’re just about finished for now.”

If only it were simply for now. This would be one of her last days in the garden.

Keeping a pleasant expression pasted on her face, she made her way up the back stairs.

The closer it came to the time she must leave, the more she wanted to remain.

Would Mr. Featherton sell the property to her?

Once her birthday had passed, she could well afford it.

Yet that didn’t answer the question of her name.

He certainly would not allow her to continue to masquerade as his wife.

Hot tears pricked her lids. Taking a handkerchief out of her pocket, she dabbed at the corners of her eyes. There was no reason to become maudlin now. She would go to London and have her Season. She would meet a gentleman to wed. Then she would have a home she could make her own.

“Were you rolling around in the mud?” Mathers stood at the dressing room door, hands on her hips.

Mary gave a watery chuckle. “You might think so. I did remember to wear my gloves. And I have left my shoes by the garden door.”

“Well, that’s something. I’ll get the shoes later. Come along now and get that dirt off you.”

Soon Mary sank into the warm water of her bath.

She hated having to deceive the servants, dependents, and all the local people.

Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it.

She gave herself a shake. Looking to the future would be more productive than moping and wishing things were different.

That evening at dinner Mary took a bite of the soup, new pea with just a hint of mint. The freshness practically burst in her mouth. “Give Cook my compliments, Simons.”

The knowledge that once she left she would never see Rose Hill again had dogged her all day, and it hit her particularly hard at that moment.

The soup turned to ash in her mouth, but she forced herself to eat it and a few bites of each remaining course as she smiled and did her best to act as if everything was all right.

After tea had been served in the drawing room, Eunice took Mary’s hand. “Try not to be so down in the mouth, my dear. You must trust all will be well.”

Mary blinked back her tears but couldn’t stop her voice from wavering. “Yes, I must continue to believe that.” She set her cup down and rose. “While there is still enough light, let me show you what I’ve done with the garden.”

Once outside, Eunice linked her arm with Mary’s as they strolled on the new gravel paths. “It looks wonderful.”

“Yes. I’m very proud of it.” Mary’s throat closed painfully. “We planted over fifty new rose bushes. I’ve always wanted a rose garden.” She wiped the moisture from her face. She would not cry. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I know, dear.” Eunice touched her head to Mary’s. “Neither do I, but we must look at the bright side. You have not been chased or harassed since we’ve been here, and you’ve improved the property beyond all measure. No one could possibly complain about your residing here for the year.”

Except that it had been based on deception. If she wasn’t to become a watering-pot, it behooved her to think of something else to discuss. “How is the new roof for the church progressing?”

Eunice grinned. “According to Mr. Doust, extremely well. It will be finished before summer.”

Mary slanted a glance at her aunt. She had not asked about a possible understanding Eunice might have with the rector before now. “And you and Mr. Doust?”

“No matter how I feel about him, I’m afraid it cannot be.

” Eunice heaved a sigh. “The dear rector would be scandalized by our ruse. Even I cannot come up with a story he would accept. No, I’m afraid I must think of him as a lovely flirtation.

” Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Until we began to make friends here, I did not understand your concerns.”

It was a little late for remorse now. Mary repeated Eunice’s words back to her. “Everything will work out for the best.”

It had to.