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One moment he'd just been standing there in front of the closed door, wondering whether or not he ought to go in and examine this room, or if he should leave it until morning. The next thing he knew, the door was flying open and a wild woman had launched herself at him.

He felt as if he was being hit by a cyclone. He'd heard that madness could give a lady uncommon strength, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined.

She was so small . She could never have overpowered him, even with the force of her madness. That only made her seem more insane. Why would she choose a fight with someone so much larger than herself? Surely she should have run or hidden, or at least approached him with an apology on her lips?

James caught her by the wrists a moment before she could strike and held her at arm's length. "What the dickens is this?" he demanded.

"Release me!"

He looked her up and down, wondering whether she was some sort of homeless hag who had broken in—but her clothing was far too fine for that. It was strange to see a madwoman dressed in the clothes of a lady. His mind struggled to make sense of it.

She was pretty, he realized. Her auburn hair was well tended, though it fell loose around her shoulders. Her green eyes sparked with anger.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"

The pieces fell into place. "You're the duchess," he said.

"And who else would I be? This is my house!"

"I'm afraid I have to correct you," James said. "This is my house."

"I've never seen you before in my life," the duchess spat. "Who do you think you are?"

"My name is James Wentworth."

The duchess paused. "I've heard that name before."

"No doubt your solicitor mentioned it to you after your husband's death. I suppose you thought you would be able to keep his home forever."

"It is mine," she said. "I was married to him. I live here. I am the Duchess of Stormwell."

"And I am the Duke of Stormwell," James explained. "I inherited the title, along with this house and the land, after my cousin's death. I'm sure your solicitor told you that at the time."

"How am I supposed to believe you? A strange man enters my house in the middle of the night and tells me it's his, and you think I should simply take you at your word? I would be mad. I should summon the authorities."

James shrugged. "Do that, if you'd like," he said indifferently. "The authorities will confirm that I am who I say I am. Or we could save some time and effort. I have papers confirming my identity."

He produced them, reflecting that while this was a bit roundabout and not the way he had hoped for things to begin when he'd arrived here, he couldn't really blame her for wanting to see some proof of his identity.

After all, what she had said was true—she was a lady, and the idea of a strange man bursting in on her in the evening was not one to take lightly, even if James did have every right to be there.

She scanned the papers he had handed her. "These do seem to be in order," she confessed, handing them back to him. "I suppose you are who you say you are, then."

"Yes, I am," James agreed. "And I'm certainly no danger to you ."

"To me? What does that mean?"

"I've heard about you," he said. "I know what people say—that you might have had a hand in my cousin's death."

The duchess scoffed. "I didn't lay a hand on the duke," she said.

"I was young and frightened when he brought me here.

Those rumors are just preposterous. To think that I even would have been capable of doing something like that is a laugh.

I couldn't manage to dress myself that night, I was so shocked and terrified by the marriage I had just suffered. "

"That sounds like a plausible motive for committing murder to me," James said.

"You think I could have come up with a scheme? That I could have overpowered a man twice my age? The staff will confirm that I was nowhere near him when he died," the duchess said icily.

"The staff that works for you," James commented. "The staff that depends upon you for their livelihood. I wonder if they'll tell a different story once I take over the house and begin putting my own money in their pockets."

"Did you come here to accuse me of a crime I didn't commit?

" The duchess asked him. "Because you're probably in the wrong place if that's your aim.

I don't really care what you think I did.

If you want to speak to someone who cares about that, you should go to a local tavern or gentlemen's club.

You'll find someone there who's interested in all this, I'm sure.

People do love to gossip when they have no idea what the truth is. "

"I don't care about gossip," James told her.

"In fact, these rumors have become a bit of a problem for me.

I'm sure you can imagine. When my cousin died, he left me the title of Duke of Stormwell, and people know that.

I'm asked often what I think about you, you know.

Whether I believe you to be guilty or innocent.

Whether I worry you'll come for me next. "

She stared at him. "Why on Earth would I come for you? Even if all the rumors were true—which they aren't, obviously—what would be the benefit in my doing anything to you? You said yourself that my motive for harming my late husband would have been my fear of him."

"Perhaps," James said. "But we can't ignore how much you benefitted from his death. This house has been yours for the past two years because you married him the very night he died. That's an astonishing coincidence."

"I'm aware."

"And now I'm his heir. Well, if you were willing to kill to get this house once, you might do it again."

"Oh, don't be absurd."

"I'm going to have to insist that you speak to me with a little more respect," James said. "But don't worry. Our time together will be short."

"You mean to leave?" She seemed to deflate slightly as some of the tension left her body, and James could see that the idea pleased her.

"What I do will be my own concern," he told her. "But I certainly mean for you to leave."

"What are you talking about. I'm not going anywhere." Her eyes were wide now—he'd frightened her. Of course he had. She knew that he had the power to make her leave if that was what he wanted. She knew she could do nothing to overrule him.

"The rumors about you have begun to affect me, as I told you," he said.

"For a time, I truly thought to leave this situation alone.

I have no desire to share quarters with a stranger, believe me.

It's the last thing I want. And I'm not pleased to find myself responsible for you.

But now I find that I need you out of my life.

I need to be able to conduct business without worrying about questions regarding a duchess and her potential crimes. "

"I'm innocent of any crimes," the duchess said, folding her arms across her chest. "But you won't be able to control the gossip, I'm afraid. I've never been able to do that."

"It doesn't seem to me as though you've tried very hard to control it," he returned. "You seem as though you've been content to allow it to exist. You don't look like it bothers you to be thought of as a murderer."

"I could allow myself to be bothered or I could live my life. I'm smart enough to know that I have no control when it comes to what other people think—but it seems like you never learned that lesson yourself."

He held up a hand. "Spare me," he said. "I didn't come here to argue with you, and there's really nothing to argue about. The fact of the matter is that I am going to see you married to someone else."

"Wait a moment." The duchess frowned. "You intend to marry me off?"

"That way, you and I will be out of one another's lives for good.

You will be someone else's problem, and I will no longer have to worry about answering questions about you—letting people know what I think about your guilt or innocence when it comes to the matter of my cousin's death.

Soon enough, no one in my circle will think of you at all anymore when they speak to me, and that's what I want.

So yes, a marriage seems just the thing to solve the dilemma. "

"I don't want to marry," the duchess said. "If I wanted to marry, I would have taken steps to do so."

"Well, I don't recall asking you what you wanted," James said.

"You're living in my house and you have done so for the past two years, but that's going to come to an end.

As my cousin's wife, you are someone I have responsibility for, so I can't send you out into the world with no one to care for you. I'm not that kind of man."

"Send me back to my father's house, then," she suggested.

"No," James said. "A lady ought to have a husband, and that's the right thing for me to do—ensure that you have one. So that's what's going to happen."

"You can't do this. You can't just come into my home in the middle of the night and uproot my whole life!"

"If the rumors are true, that's exactly what you did to my cousin," James told her.

"The rumors are not true!"

"Then this will benefit you as much as it will me. It will help you to get away from the things people are saying about you. It can't possibly be the case that you truly don't care whether people believe you to be a killer or not."

"I've told you it doesn't matter to me."

He shook his head. "I don't believe you," he said. "I think that's something you tell yourself so that you can live with the situation you find yourself in. But deep down, you want to be liked and admired just as much as anybody else does."

"You don't know me at all."

"No," I don't," he said. "And soon enough, that won't matter, because you and I won't have to see one another again. Have a good night, Duchess. I've had a long journey and I'd like to get some sleep now."

He turned and walked away from her.

His heart was pounding. He hadn't minded the confrontation, but now that he was here, he had to admit that he had other concerns—concerns that he had tried his best to ignore as he had traveled.

He couldn't escape the fact that he was now sharing a home with someone who was thought to be a murderer.

He would do his best to get rid of her quickly, but in the short term he would simply have to find a way to share space with her—and that was a terrible thought. He didn't want to admit to the fact that he was afraid of her, but he was.

She might be harmless. But maybe she wasn't.

At any rate, he knew that he would sleep with one eye open for as long as they shared the same house.

He wished he didn't have to be here with her, but it was a necessary evil, at least for the time being.

But soon enough, he would get her married off, and then she would be somebody else's problem.

Her guilt or innocence would no longer be a matter for James to concern himself with.

He reached one of the guest bedrooms—he couldn't bring himself to occupy the room that would have belonged to his cousin—and went inside. Collapsing on the bed, he let out a sigh.

Things were going to be very strange while he was living with the duchess. He hoped the matter would resolve itself quickly so he could return to his normal life.

Until it did, he would simply do his best to tolerate her presence—and she would have to do her best to tolerate his. It was the only way forward for either one of them and he knew it.

Though he knew he ought to have gotten up to undress before he fell asleep, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was too exhausted from the day's events. With a deep exhale, he allowed his eyes to slip closed, and sleep overtook him.