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“I was lucky enough to see your closing arguments,” Mr. Hughes said.

“My brother was the magistrate who oversaw the case and mentioned that he thought you were quite the talented lawyer. I have to admit I agree. When I heard that you were acting as Lord Ashford’s lawyer, I reached out to ask if you were possibly looking to leave Mr. Garretty’s employ. ”

I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at Arthur again, finding that he was looking at me as well, clearly amused. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” he said, touching Mr. Hughes’s shoulder lightly before taking his leave.

I recovered quickly, sitting in the chair that Mr. Hughes indicated was free, and spent the better part of an hour discussing my career with the man.

It turned out that Mr. Hughes was in fact Matthew Hughes, a prominent London solicitor whose name I was quite familiar with.

He had been so impressed by my performance in court, and by the rumors that I was working for Arthur, that he had asked if I would be attending the ball and, if so, if I could be pressed upon to speak with him about a job.

While I was thrilled at the offer—and it couldn’t have come at a better time if James’s threats were to be taken seriously—I was far more touched by the fact that Arthur had put his neck on the line for me.

My feelings for Arthur were intensifying by the day.

First the letter I had found in his desk, a clear confession that he had feelings for me beyond just base attraction, and now this display of genuine thoughtfulness.

Returning to Louis Garretty’s offices had been a misery I could not fathom, and here was a way out of it, a new job after I had rejected Arthur’s offer to be the family lawyer.

There was a bittersweet cast to everything, however.

I was actively seeking ways to leave, to ensure that I could not allow myself to fall further for Arthur or try to have him fall further for me, and all I could hear were Rudolph’s warnings that I was facing a relationship with a man who could not love me the way I wanted.

And yet his actions spoke to a man who was perfectly capable of love if one knew where to look.

Had Arthur not cared for me, he wouldn’t have set up this meeting.

He wouldn’t have let Charles buy me the suit, nor let Rudolph pick me up from London, nor would he have so quickly allowed me access to his legal files to work on the poaching case.

I was a coward, a fool, running from someone who was trying his hardest to open up to me, and the dread I’d been feeling all day seemed to suddenly have crystallized into an obvious issue: I was the one who was refusing to be loved and to love in return.

Had Arthur shown his love this entire time, and I had just been too foolish to recognize it?

I spoke with Matthew for a while longer, and by the end of it he was quite intent on me coming to his office in London when I returned and interviewing for a position at his firm.

I readily agreed, glad that my double cross of Louis Garretty was not going to be the end of my career after all, and was equally glad when Ida appeared at my shoulder, apologizing to Matthew for stealing me away for a dance.

I went with her after thanking Matthew again and promising I would set up an appointment with his secretary.

On the dance floor, Ida immediately engaged me in a rather lively waltz, looking at me with the same dark intensity that her brother usually exhibited when he had figured me out.

“Did Arthur set up that meeting?” she asked, peering up at me, and I nodded, seeing no reason to hide it.

Her eyes swept the floor behind me, clearly seeking out Arthur, and when she found him, she studied him briefly before turning her attention back to me. “When did this start?”

“It’s just repayment for the work I’ve done this summer,” I said, but she narrowed her eyes in a way that clearly said she didn’t believe me. “Ida….”

“I’m not a fool,” she said. “I knew about Rudy and Arthur long before the blackmail began, and I can see what’s happening here. You two obviously care for each other. Or… perhaps not obviously, but obvious enough if you know what you’re looking for. You care for him quite deeply, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I murmured, unable to lie as I turned her around easily, glad that I had at least kept up with the dances that were fashionable this season.

“But I told him that I only wanted a relationship until I returned to London. Your brother made it quite clear that Arthur would not give me what I was looking for.”

Ida snorted, shaking her head as though it was a ridiculous statement.

“There is a reason they didn’t work, and they wouldn’t have worked even if James hadn’t intervened.

Arthur shows his love for a person through subtle acts and small gifts, and Rudy very much believes love should be a fairy tale.

What do you want? Take my foolish brother out of the equation. ”

I knew what I wanted, had known since earlier that evening when I had first seen Arthur in his perfectly tailored suit with his perfect hair and perfect eyes and perfect smile.

Wanting it and taking it, however, were two entirely different things, and as I swept around the dance floor with my hands on Ida’s shoulder and waist, I realized that despite acknowledging my cowardice, I was not going to be able to overcome it.

I was no longer worried about Rudolph, and I don’t think I even doubted that Arthur cared for me—rather, after everything he had shown me since I’d returned to Ashford Hall, I was convinced that he did care for me.

This was the crux of the issue, the true root of my growing fear, and I recognized that since the start of all of this, I had never been afraid of Arthur not loving me.

I had been afraid of him doing just that.

Quick relationships in gentleman’s clubs were one thing, but the idea of opening my heart up and allowing a man like Arthur Ashford in was frightening in a way that I had not been able to recognize before.

“How did you know you were in love with Charles?” I asked, and her eyes widened imperceptibly.

“Don’t look at me like that, Miss Nelson. You aren’t the only one with eyes.”

She sighed, shaking her head and looking up as the song ended, a new one beginning.

A young man approached us, and she smiled at him but politely declined his offer to dance, staying with me so we could continue our conversation.

“I knew someone would realize. Does Arthur know?” I nodded and she groaned. “Felix?”

“Of course Felix knows,” I said. “No offense, but you two weren’t being particularly covert.”

She stared at me before something seemed to click into place. “That night in the garden when Charles thought he heard something,” she said. “It was you?”

“Well… it was myself and Arthur,” I admitted, and she groaned again. “We were quite busy, though, so we didn’t hear very much.”

“This is dreadful,” she said, her face flushed. “You must think so little of me.”

“Of course I don’t,” I said quickly. “Ida, I’m hardly one to throw stones. What you do is your own business. I just want to know… well, how you knew.”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I never…. Arthur and I never intended on our marriage being a real one. We had been betrothed for so long that it just seemed the right thing to do, but I knew about him and Rudy, and I had never loved him, not as a wife would. Charles, though… it was just so easy. He’s younger than me, but he had always been so close, and I think I just realized after calling off my betrothal with Arthur that I had only kept up the pretense as long as I had because I wanted to be close to Charles.

I’m comfortable with him in a way I am with no one else. ”

I considered this, considered the way I felt when I was with Arthur, the easy companionship that had built between us since our first tumultuous week together.

There had been many days of us sitting together in the library working on different projects, and the comfort of that silence had been unlike anything I’d felt outside of my relationship with Charles.

How I felt about Arthur, though, was decidedly different.

“I see,” I said, frightened at the creeping realization overtaking me.

“You need to tell him,” Ida said, clearly having come to the same conclusion I had. “If you know how you feel—”

“What if he feels differently?”

“Then you can at least move on,” Ida said. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering what if?”

“No,” I said, and I meant it. I could have kissed her, a mixture of nerves and relief washing through me, and instead I settled for pressing my forehead briefly to hers in a show of gentle affection. “Thank you, Ida.”

The waltz ended and I left her on the dance floor, looking around the ballroom for Arthur; he was on the far side of the room, standing with a few beautifully dressed women I did not recognize, and I began to make my way across to him when I was grabbed by the arm.

I turned to find Charles had a hold of me, the look on his face one I had never seen before, at least not directed towards me.

Rage.