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A fter a night of sleep in which torrid dreams awakened her several times, Fiona spent the morning feeling agitated and uncertain.

She’d managed to keep herself together while in Tobias’s presence, but as soon as she’d reached her room, she’d collapsed against the door in a quivering mass of unsatisfied desire.

As she lay in bed, she’d closed her eyes and recalled the book she’d found in her father’s library.

Complete with detailed drawings, the treatise outlined ways in which men and women gave and received pleasure.

She’d been horrified when she’d first found it, and then over the years, she’d returned to it as her curiosity had grown.

If not for that book, she wouldn’t have had a clue about what might happen with Tobias.

As it was, she knew what could have happened, and she was wholly disappointed when it hadn’t.

It also meant she knew how to provide herself with at least a modicum of relief.

He’d opened her eyes to what she was missing, to what marriage could bring.

She’d been foolish not to consider this physical aspect and the fact that it was directly tied to the magnetic pull she felt toward him.

It was desire, pure and simple, and she’d never felt it for anyone else, including Lord Gregory.

Frowning, she finally emerged from her room and immediately found Prudence in their sitting room. Seated at the small round table near the windows, she looked up from the newspaper she held. “Are you feeling all right today?”

“I didn’t sleep well.” Fiona didn’t want to tell her what had happened. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Tobias that it was shameless, but it was most certainly improper.

“Were you able to speak with Lord Overton about our encounter with Lady Bentley?” Prudence knew Fiona had gone downstairs for that purpose. Thankfully she’d been abed when Fiona returned.

“Briefly,” she said. “Apparently, he did court her, and she did choose Bentley over him. He did not, however, attempt to kidnap her.” Fiona rolled her eyes.

“Of course,” Prudence murmured. “I noticed you were downstairs for quite some time.”

There was no question, but Fiona heard her curiosity quite loudly. “I went to the library to spend some time with the maps.”

The butler stepped into the sitting room just then. “Pardon my intrusion, ladies. Miss Wingate, if you are free, your presence is requested in his lordship’s study.”

A wave of heat spiked through Fiona, followed closely by a crisp burst of anxiety. What could the earl want? Would it be awkward to be with him in the place where they’d embraced so intimately the night before?

“I’ll be right there, Carrin,” Fiona said, brushing her hand over the back of her upswept hair.

After the butler departed, Prudence said, “You look fine. Actually, you look very pretty.”

Darting a glance toward Prudence, Fiona dropped her hand to her side. “Thank you.” And blast because Fiona didn’t want anyone, including Prudence, knowing that she cared what she looked like in Tobias’s presence.

Tobias. She really oughtn’t call him that, even in her head.

Fiona walked downstairs, her pace altering between fast with anticipation and sedate with trepidation. By the time she reached the study, she felt as if she’d taken a few laps around the house.

As she stepped over the threshold, she nearly tripped. Tobias wasn’t there.

His secretary, a round-faced gentleman with dark, receding hair and a warm smile, stood from where he sat in a chair beside Tobias’s desk. “Good afternoon, Miss Wingate. Thank you for coming to meet with me. Will you sit for a moment?”

She glanced toward the settee but didn’t want to sit there. Instead, she took another chair on the other side of Tobias’s desk. “I didn’t realize I was coming to see you, Mr. Dyer. Carrin only told me that my presence was required in the study.”

“I see, well, my apologies. It wasn’t my intent to surprise you. With the deadline for his lordship’s marriage in ten days and his lack of a bride, I thought we should discuss the specifics of your inheritance.”

Her what? Fiona stared at him as words utterly failed her.

“Now, the twelfth is a Sunday, so the property will officially transfer to you on the thirteenth. The property does have a steward who was hired by Lady Overton, and you will likely wish to retain him, at least for a while?—”

Fiona held up a hand and finally managed to push forth speech. “What inheritance are you speaking of? I am not aware of a property or anything else, for that matter.”

Mr. Dyer’s complexion paled by at least a shade. He shifted in his chair and glanced down at the papers in front of him on the corner of the desk. “Oh. I thought his lordship had informed you of the terms of his father’s will.”

Outrage warred with disappointment inside her. “He has not. I pray you will enlighten me since it seems to involve…me.” She somehow summoned a smile but feared it wasn’t at all pleasant. She clasped her hands so tightly in her lap that her fingers started to go numb.

Dyer hesitated. No doubt he was perplexed as to why his employer hadn’t told her a thing about any of this. He certainly seemed confused.

The secretary coughed. “Well, this is irregular, as I thought his lordship had told you of the situation. His father’s will states that his lordship must wed within three months of the prior earl’s death, and that date is the twelfth of March.”

Now Tobias’s search for a countess and his seeming inability to find one made sense. He wasn’t looking for a wife because he wanted one but because he had to marry. The servants’ chatter that Prudence had overheard also made sense.

“What happens if he doesn’t wed by that date?” Fiona asked.

“If he remains unwed, one of his properties will be transferred to you.”

“How can that be? Aren’t an earl’s properties entailed with the title?”

“It varies, but in this case, the estate in question belonged to Lord Overton’s mother’s family—that is, the current Lord Overton. Upon her marriage to the prior earl, Horethorne became his property.”

Fiona’s mind spun. She was to own an entire estate?

That would change everything. She wouldn’t have to worry about Mrs. Tucket or herself, never mind when or whether she should marry.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. It was rare for women to own property.

She wondered if her cousin was aware of this and whether he could prevent her from claiming it.

“The estate will be mine? It won’t belong to a gentleman who will hold it for me?”

The secretary shook his head. “The instructions are clear—you will be the owner.”

She stared at him in utter disbelief. This was beyond unexpected. It was a bloody miracle. “Does the estate have income?”

“Enough to support the house and provide a modest living for the inhabitants.”

This was unbelievable. “You said it’s called Horethorne?” The name was familiar.

Dyer smiled. “Yes, it’s a lovely estate in south Somerset.” As soon as he said Somerset, Fiona remembered where she’d heard the name of the estate. And with that, she recalled precisely what it was before the secretary even finished. “His lordship spent most of his childhood there.”

Her stomach sank. “Lord Overton told me about his mother’s house,” she said softly, her heart aching at his father’s cruelty. “Why would the previous earl write such a thing into his will?”

Dyer averted his gaze. “I’m sure I don’t know.”

“How can that be? You were his secretary, were you not?”

“I was. His lordship was an exacting employer, and he did not suffer inquiries, particularly regarding his intent. Such curiosity was insubordination in his eyes.” The secretary’s chin seemed to quiver a moment before his jaw tensed. “I cannot disagree that this act was singularly ruthless.”

Yet while it was terrible for Tobias, it was wonderful for her. Again, she wondered why Tobias’s father had involved her in any of this. It was one thing to be her guardian, but to see she had an extravagant Season, a large dowry, and now an estate?

“If Lord Overton weds by the twelfth, I will not inherit Horethorne, is that correct?”

Dyer nodded. “The likelihood of him doing so is quite low, however. He would need to marry by special license or perhaps run away to Gretna Green.” He said the last with a smile, then quickly sobered. His neck flushed. “Please forget I said that.”

Fiona wasn’t sure if the man was aware of the rumors about Tobias and Gretna Green but thought he must be. Why else would he react that way? Her mind returned to earlier in the interview. “You were surprised I didn’t know about this. Did his lordship tell you I knew?”

Again, the man hesitated, and his neck remained a faint pink above the crisp white collar of his shirt. “He did.”

When had he planned to tell her? Or had he decided to leave it to his secretary?

She released her hands and gently flexed her fingers to restore feeling. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Not at present. Do you have any questions for me?”

“No.” She rose, and he jumped up from his chair. “Thank you, Mr. Dyer. I hope you don’t feel as if this put you in an awkward position. You are only doing your job. Lord Overton— this Lord Overton—will not be upset with you.” If he was, Fiona would kick him. Repeatedly.

“I hope not.”

“He is not like his father.” At least, he tried not to be. She started toward the door, then stopped abruptly. Turning back to face him, she said, “I do have one question. What happens to my dowry if I don’t wed?”

“If you aren’t wed by the age of twenty-five, the funds will go to you.”

“Remind me, please, how much is it?”

“Six thousand pounds.”

Such an enormous sum! And just three years until it could be hers. Her birthday was in less than a week, and she would be twenty-two. Three years, and she could be a financially independent woman with an estate .

“I beg your pardon, but I suppose that was two questions and now I have a third. It is the last, I assure you.”

“Ask as many as you like.”