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Rolfe removed his gloves, dropping them on the table. “We were to Seagrave House, where, it seems, someone decided to take advantage of the fact that Cassia wasn’t there and break in.”

“Good heavens,” Mara said. “Was anything taken?”

“Oddly, my father’s pocket watch seems to be the only thing missing,” Cassia said. She lowered into the chair beside Mara, smiling her thanks as the footman poured her a cup of tea.

“As such, Cassia and I will be leaving today,” Rolfe said abruptly.

“Leaving?” Hadrian replied. “Going where?”

“We will be returning to Seagrave House.”

Mara spoke up. “Didn’t you just say that someone has broken in? Isn’t that putting you both in a spot of danger?”

Rolfe took a scone from the side table and tore off a chunk of it. “It is more of a risk leaving the house vacant, it seems. We still haven’t located the document Seagrave wrote to Cassia about. Who is to say the thief wasn’t looking for that as well?”

“Why don’t you leave Cassia here with us then?” Mara asked. “No one knows she is here. She will remain safe with us.”

Rolfe looked at Cassia. “Of course, if she would prefer?—”

“She would not,” Cassia replied, immediately silencing that thought. She turned to Mara and Hadrian then. “I am most grateful to you both for your kind hospitality these past days. You have made me feel more than welcome here. Please do not think I am being unappreciative.”

Mara smiled, patting her hand. “You need not explain. The time has come for you to return to your home. I have felt the same way myself on occasion. Just always know that you have a place here with us should you wish to return.”

“Thank you.”

“It is settled then,” Rolfe said. “We will go today. I’ll see about having our things packed so we can be back at Seagrave House by evening.”

It was late that night when they finally had settled back in at Seagrave House. The study had been returned to order, owing entirely to the assiduous attention of Clydesworthe. A few miscellaneous objects had been destroyed in the thief’s desperate search, but otherwise it was the same.

Cassia had retired early, not long after supper, saying she was tired and eager to be back in the familiarity of her own bed again.

Rolfe took up occupancy in a spacious bedchamber nearby to Cassia’s.

The room looked as if it had never been used, just dusted and aired periodically.

Cassia had told him this particular room had been reserved for guests, which they never had in the three years since she’d been back in England.

It was just two doors down from her own bedchamber and situated so that should anyone attempt to come abovestairs, they would have to pass by his door before they could reach Cassia’s.

Rolfe lay on the bed, atop a coverlet, wearing just his breeches.

The servants had all long retired for the night and it was quiet in the house.

He lay there in the still silence, the fire in the hearth throwing shadows across the ceiling, while his mind played over his plans for the following evening.

Geoffrey had to have been the one who had stolen the watch.

Who else would have known of its existence, and known where to find it?

But why had he been so desperate to get it, especially now that Seagrave was dead?

There must be some connection to the Conium Maculatum.

But was Seagrave, a marquess and right hand man to Edward Hyde, a member of the Hemlocks?

As he sat there, contemplating this, Rolfe heard the creak of a floorboard in the hallway outside his chamber.

In an instant his senses heightened. His gaze shifted to the doorway.

From where he sat on the bed, he had a direct view of the doorway and the darkened hall outside.

He sat still, waiting, as he heard the second creak, this time just outside his door.

Rolfe reached slowly for the pistol he had already primed and loaded earlier that evening. With stealth, he slid from the bed and moved soundlessly toward the doorway. The door was half ajar, though not far enough to allow anyone to slip inside. He stood in the shadows, and waited.

In the firelight, he watched as the door pushed slowly inward. His heart pounded. He swallowed. He could make out the barest outline of the intruder as they came through the door. Rolfe waited, lowering the barrel of the pistol to take aim.

“Don’t move, you bloody bastard, or I will blow a hole straight through you.”

The figure stiffened.

“Rolfe, it’s me.”

Rolfe dropped his arm to his side. “Cassia? Bloody hell! What are you doing coming into my room like that in the middle of the night? I nearly shot you through.” Then, his alarm eased. “Is something wrong?”

He strode across the room and opened the draperies, allowing in the moonlight from outside.

He moved to the fire and quickly lit a branch of candles.

He turned to see Cassia standing in the middle of the room, wearing her night rail, her hair loose down her back.

She was peering down at her bare toes curling on the carpet.

“I couldn’t sleep. I ...”

And suddenly he knew why she had come.

He put down the pistol and came before her in two strides. She blinked up at him and he could see that she was feeling awkward, unsure of what she should say. She was teetering on the edge of her uncertainty, questioning whether she had done the right thing in coming to him.

Rolfe quickly gave her the answer to her question.

He swept her up from the floor and into his arms. Gently he carried her across the room to the bed. Cassia did not speak as he laid her down, but her eyes told volumes of the uncertainty that was running rampant through her.

“It is all right, Cassia. You were right in coming to me.”

He lowered onto the bed beside her. He gazed at her in the light. He cupped the side of her face with his hand as finally, he kissed her.

“I won’t hurt you, Cassia,” he said softly, brushing his lips against her forehead. “I will never hurt you.”

It was all the reassurance Cassia needed. She lifted her hands to circle around the back of his neck, twining her fingers, and returned his kiss.

It was everything she’d ever dreamed it could be and more, Cassia thought, as she released a breath.

He kissed her on and on and she let herself be carried away.

She let her head fall back and marveled in the feel of his mouth as he kissed her on her neck, her throat.

She felt him at her night rail, releasing the ribbon ties beneath the soft fabric, felt it loosen.

She never wanted it to end.

Rolfe pushed aside the folds of her night rail as he kissed a path over her stomach and even lower still. In a whisk of white linen, he slid the garment away from her.

While she would have thought she would have been embarrassed to be unclothed before a man’s eyes, would feel the natural urge to cover herself with her hands, she couldn’t help but feel emboldened by the desire she saw alight in Rolfe’s eyes.

He stood back, never taking his eyes from hers, and unfastened his breeches, pulling them off.

Only then did Cassia tear her eyes away from his to look down over the solid length of his body.

He was beautifully outlined in the firelight above her.

“Look at me, Cassia. Look into my eyes.”

She peered back at him.

“I want to be with you. I ache for you. I want you so badly, but if you are not ready for this yet ...”

She whispered, shaking her head. “I am ready.”

And then she held out her arms to him and closed her eyes as he lowered himself over her.

Rolfe kissed her again while he raised himself slowly over her. He lifted her legs, bending them at the knees. Cassia placed her hands on his shoulders as he lowered himself over her.

She felt him press against her. She released a soft sigh. In a single movement, Rolfe joined their bodies as one.

There came the pain, and without thinking, Cassia cried out.

“Bloody hell,” Rolfe said, poised above her. He stared down at her in the moonlight, his expression confused. “But, Cassia, why didn’t you tell me?”

She had known about the pain for her mother had told her time and again— a woman’s cross to bear , she’d called it. But her mother hadn’t told her about how the feelings of intimacy would be so much more powerful than any pain, how she would know a sense of true completion.

She traced a hand over his shoulder, down his arm, circling his waist to urge him ever nearer.

Rolfe sucked in his breath. Slowly, he began moving his body with her, gathering her to him, rocking her.

Cassia gasped. Her body responded, opened, blossomed.

Onward they soared. Breath to breath. Body to body.

Rolfe took her hands, squeezing them with his, until there came the moment when he stilled and held her tightly bound to him.

And Cassia finally knew love.

Rolfe lifted his head and looked down at her. When she blinked, she saw that his eyes were clouded with concern—and regret.

“I am so sorry, Cassia.”

“Whatever for?” she asked, touching her hand to the side of his face.

“I promised you I would never hurt you and I have. I never thought ... would never have imagined .... Damnation, Cassia, why didn’t you tell me you were as yet a maiden?”

She refused to allow him to regret the wonderful thing they’d just shared together. “It doesn’t matter, Rolfe.”

“But, why? The rumors. About you. About him. Why didn’t you ever deny them ...?”

“That I was the king’s mistress? Because, Rolfe, I am the one who invented the tale.”

Rolfe’s eyes were suddenly filled with disbelief. “But why? Why would you do such a thing?”

“There is a certain advantage to being thought of as one of the king’s kept women.

A lady need not worry about unwanted attentions from certain men because most wouldn’t dare attempt to seduce the king’s mistress.

Since I was an heiress and was thought of only for my monetary worth, being thought of as the king’s kept woman was preferable to being pursued by men who only wanted me for the dowry I could bring them. ”

Rolfe could but stare, dumbfounded. “But the king? Why would he play along with such a charade?”

“Because I asked him to. He didn’t want to, of course, in fact, he nearly refused me at first, but I really gave him little choice. You see, he owed me a great favor. I simply delivered him his due notice.”

“What could the king possibly owe you?”

Cassia smiled. “Do you remember, last year, after Queen Catherine’s arrival in England and her marriage to the king, that she and Charles had a very public disagreement over a request that she accept Barbara Palmer as a Lady of the Bedchamber?”

Rolfe nodded. “From what I understood she was adamant in her stand against it, outraged at the mere suggestion of it. Oddly, though, soon after declaring she would never allow it, Catherine suddenly changed her mind.”

Cassia nodded. “I persuaded the queen to allow the appointment of Lady Castlemaine to pass.”

“But I thought Catherine was your friend.”

“She is. I care for her deeply, too deeply to sit idly by and watch her lose what she rightfully earned. I did it to protect her, you see. You must understand, Their Majesties were well on their way to annulment over this one thing. Catherine was most stubborn in refusing the appointment. Her mother had been instrumental in brokering her daughter’s marriage to the King of England and had convinced Catherine she must force Charles to mend his wandering ways. ”

“Not a likely possibility for a man like Charles.”

Cassia nodded “Exactly. In addition to this, the king was equally stubborn in insisting upon Lady Castlemaine’s appointment.

It came down to a matter of wills, bride to bridegroom, and each of them was more determined to win.

Charles is not a man to ever back down to a public rebuke.

I simply explained to the queen that she would be far better served if she would allow this one bitter appointment to pass, reminding her over and over again that no matter what Lady Castlemaine did, no matter how she tried to wheedle the king, she would never—ever—be the Queen of England, and therefore, would never have the advantages of it. ”

Rolfe shook his head. “I have married myself to a remarkable woman.”

As he watched Cassia slowly drift off to sleep, Rolfe thought about all the things she had been through in her life, the terrible unpleasantness she had been forced to live through.

All her life Cassia had spent her days running from something.

She’d overcome it all, the public scandal of her mother and the private abuse of her father, using her sharp wits and her inner strength.

Sitting there in the darkness, with her body now curved against his, Rolfe watched her as she slept. He made a vow, a solemn promise to her that she would never have to fear, never need to run from her life again.

It was on this thought that he closed his eyes and finally fell asleep.