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G regory’s heart was beating wildly as he stalked out of the family parlor. How had he let this blasted nonsense continue for so long? This was not the reunion he had imagined for the past several months and yet what else could he have expected? Emily didn’t know the truth.

Gregory had been writing to her for the past eight months, not Allister.

Well, not the entire eight months, he corrected himself as he made his way to his brother’s office.

Allister had written to her once or twice in the beginning.

However, he abandoned the correspondence when the continent’s entertainment had proven too distracting.

With his brother’s full support, Gregory had taken up his letters to Emily, as neither wished to hurt her feelings.

That’s how all of this had started. Gregory had simply wished to spare Emily’s feelings, having been partial to her friendship. But then, their letters evolved.

He had started out writing to her the way he believed Allister would.

Cheerful, a touch haughty, and even humorous, and Emily had reacted in kind.

She was charmed by his words and soon, she was writing things she had never discussed with Gregory.

Under the cloak of his brother’s identity, he had been able to ask her questions he otherwise wouldn’t have, which led to deeper conversations and soon he had done the unthinkable.

Gregory had fallen in love with her.

Stalking into his brother’s office without knocking, he saw the estate manager and the land steward both straighten from their hunched-over positions at Allister’s desk.

Allister himself was seated in his wingback leather chair, his hands gently tented together, elbows resting on the armrest. The other two appeared rather hesitant as Gregory came towards them, no doubt worried that he might try to convince his brother about something or other.

Gregory had been a thorn in their side ever since he halted the building of a Greek revival pavilion that threatened the habitat of the great silver water beetle.

“Ah, Gregory,” Allister said, visibly pleased to have someone distract him from whatever his estate manager and land steward were discussing. “Come to familiarize yourself with the quarterly reports?”

“No.”

Though his answer was monosyllabic, his brother nodded and stood up.

“Gentlemen, I’m afraid these matters can wait.”

“But, Your Grace—”

“We must discuss a plan as to how we’ll continue with the—”

“We will finish this at a later time, gentlemen.”

“But tomorrow is the duchess’s party and these matters must be executed tonight. They’ve already been ignored for too long. How will we—”

Allister chuckled as he came around the desk.

“Good day, gentlemen,” he said firmly, yet still unwaveringly friendly, in a way that only Allister could.

It had irritated Gregory for years, the ease with which his brother moved through society, but he had come to appreciate the firm, yet laissez-faire attitude his brother possessed during their adventures abroad.

Truly, the brothers had grown close during their trip and Gregory was privately very pleased about it.

The estate manager and land steward left reluctantly, closing the door behind them.

Allister crossed the room and opened one of the wooden cabinet doors that lined the bottom half of a bookshelf that sat in the corner.

Pulling out a glass decanter partially filled with amber liquid, he poured two glasses and handed one to Gregory.

“So? How did it go?”

“Not well,” Gregory answered, taking the glass, though he didn’t sip from it. “Mother and Mrs. Corning have been informed about Emily’s relationship with, well, you.”

Allister’s brows cinched together, though he kept a smirk on his face.

“Is that so? I wouldn’t have expected that from Emily. I mean, she chatters on sometimes, but it’s never very revealing.”

“I don’t put any blame on Emily. You know how loquacious Mrs. Corning can be. Pair that with Mother’s meddlesome ways and it was only a matter of time before they discovered her secret. It’s a miracle they hadn’t already posted banns.”

“Heaven forbid.”

“Of course, it only makes the matter at hand worse.”

“How so?”

“Well, now instead of asking Emily for forgiveness for deceiving her all these months, I’m going to have to explain the entire situation to Mother and Mrs. Corning.”

Allister shook his head.

“You won’t have to do that.”

“Won’t I?” Gregory placed the glass on the desk. “No, I suppose you’re right. Once I tell Emily the truth, she, Mrs. Corning, and Mother will likely never speak to me again.”

Allister chuckled.

“Brother, you’re speaking as you did before we left England.

Do not let the settings of your former life disrupt the person you’ve become.

” Allister had been extremely proud of Gregory’s transformation abroad, even going so far as to claim his changes were because of him.

Of course, the only thing that could have changed Gregory were the words Emily had written and now that he was back in the setting of his former life, he was finding it strange to blend the two sides of himself.

“Besides, wasn’t this the entire point of our little excursion?

For you to get some perspective on life? ”

That was true. Gregory had been feeling listless before their voyage, but he hadn’t been sure why. Life had been woefully dull in London, and he only ever wished to be at Sandspring House. Now he knew it was because of Emily.

“Yes, but I’m not sure how to fix this. What should I do, Allister?”

“Tell Emily the truth, of course. Though, be gentle. I’m sure it will come as a bit of shock that she’ll have to forgo my outstanding charms for your average ones.

” Allister chuckled while Gregory frowned at the quip.

“No. Gregory, I refuse for you to fall back into your quiet ways. I said the same thing while we were in Italy at the comtesse’s estate, do you remember?

When the Doge of Venice cornered you and you countered with a series of clever verbal attacks? ”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

“I was in Italy, for one.”

“But were you any less yourself?”

“No.”

“Then lean into that, brother. Don’t let yourself be pigeonholed to an identity. You said it yourself—you’re a man of many facets, none of which have ever been truly revealed. So, start revealing them.”

Gregory nodded, though his brother’s words were easier said than done. How he was even going to approach Emily with the truth was daunting. A part of him wished he was still on the continent, where he could write to her as freely as he had while he was abroad.

Perhaps he still could…

Yes. That’s what he’d do. He’d write her a letter explaining everything.

It was the most precise way to get everything out into the open.

At least through a letter he’d be able to express himself fully and there wouldn’t be any confusion.

He’d simply tell her that he, Gregory, had been writing as Allister all along and that he had fallen madly in love with her.

*

Approximately two hours later, while pacing the steps in his room, half-dressed for dinner, Gregory was chewing on his bottom lip, shaking his head as he stomped back and forth across his room.

He hadn’t been able to write a single word of quality since coming up to his room and he was starting to panic.

He wasn’t going to be able to write himself out of this, which was going to prove to be his downfall because he certainly couldn’t speak it.

He had barely been able to talk to Emily upon his arrival except for scolding her.

And really, it was he who should have been scolded, considering the lie he had perpetrated for so many months. What was he going to do?

Furious, hopeless, and annoyed, Gregory finished dressing himself as he crumpled up the last four pages he had attempted to write and threw them into the fireplace.

He would try again after tonight’s dinner, perhaps after a drink or two.

Yes, he thought as he finished putting on his jacket and headed toward the door. He would simply try again later.

But when he opened the door, he froze.

“Emily,” he croaked out.

There, with her gloved hand curled into a fist as if she were about to knock, was Emily. Dressed in a lilac empire-waist gown and a matching dyed feather in her tawny, up-done hair. She smiled at him, green eyes sparkling as she reached forward, taking his arm without asking.

“I was hoping you’d finished getting ready for dinner early.”

“You were?” he asked, momentarily perplexed as she pulled him away from his bedroom door.

“Yes. I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier this afternoon. I’m afraid I was distracted with my own nonsense, and I fear I was inexcusably rude. So, I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

“You needn’t beg anything of me,” he said lowly. “It is yours without question.”

Her eyes shined as she smiled brightly, and Gregory’s insides twisted and wrenched. The loose, tawny curls at the temple of her head bounced gently as she shook her head, and he had to fight off the urge to reach up and curl her hair around his finger.

“You are too good to me, Gregory, do you know that? I should always consider myself lucky to be your friend.”

His stomach knotted tighter at her words. It was almost humorous to think that her luck should be his misery.

“I only wish I were worthy of it.”

“Oh, but you are. There is no one on the earth that I trust more.”

“Really?” he asked as she nodded emphatically. “What about Allister?”

She blinked.

“Well, yes, of course. Although,” she dipped her chin, “I’m beginning to wonder how much he feels for me, considering his lukewarm reunion. I think perhaps I may have mistaken our meaning for one another.” She glanced down. “Or perhaps I imagined our entire relationship as a whole.”

The soft self-deprecation in her tone made Gregory’s stomach drop.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he said slowly.

“How can you be so certain?”

The question hung in the air for a moment; she was completely unaware of just how heavy it was. This was it. The moment he had been waiting for. He finally had the opportunity to tell her the truth.

He slowed his steps to a halt, causing her to pause too. Brow cinched in confusion, Emily glanced up at him with question.

“Gregory?”

“Emily, there’s something that I must tell you—”

“There you are! My darling, I’ve been searching everywhere for you.” Mrs. Corning’s voice came from behind, startling them. They both turned as she approached. “You mustn’t go traipsing about Sandspring House alone as though we were here on some informal visit.” She curtsied to Gregory. “My lord.”

“It’s quite all right, Mrs. Corning, Emily and I were just—”

“Oh, please, Lord Ashley, I beg of you,” she said peering over her shoulder before looking back at him. “If the other guests overheard you use familiarities with my Emily, I’m afraid it might cause something of a commotion.”

“Mama, the entire county is aware of my friendship with Gregory,” Emily replied, her cheerful gaze gutting him more than she could ever know. “We must have walked a thousand miles together these past few years. I’m sure no one would suspect something untoward.”

It was true. Emily and Gregory had often been in each other’s company, and the friendship between the Cornings and the Ashleys was well known.

If anything, the neighbors in Lyme Regis considered Gregory as someone who favored scholarly entertainment over the company of people.

He knew what everyone thought of him and while it hadn’t ever bothered him before, having preferred the solitude, now it rankled him.

“Emily,” her mother repeated, more earnestly this time.

“You’re absolutely correct, Mrs. Corning. My apologies.”

“Oh. You needn’t apologize.” She waved her hand in the air. “Shall we to dinner?”

Gregory escorted the two ladies to the parlor where a number of guests had already begun to congregate as was typical before a formal dinner.

Allister was in the corner of the room, speaking to Lord Beaton with a near-blank expression until he spotted his brother.

Excusing himself he made his way to Gregory.

“There you are,” he murmured lowly. “I think Mother has invited the most elderly members of the ton this weekend. There’s not a guest under fifty here besides us.”

“And Emily.”

Allister’s brow lifted.

“Ah yes. Miss Corning. I’m assuming you spoke with her?”

“Not yet.”

He frowned.

“Why not?” Allister asked, peering around the room. “Didn’t you just enter the room with her on your arm?”

“Yes, her and her mother,” Greogry said through clenched teeth. He sighed. “I nearly told her the truth, but we were interrupted.”

“Hmm. I see. Well, as lovely a girl as Miss Corning is, I have a number of ladies waiting for my attendance in London in a week’s time, so if you wouldn’t mind taking care of this situation sooner rather than later, I’d much appreciate it.”

Guilt cracked within Gregory’s chest. Allister had been a right sport allowing him to prolong with nonsense, but he needed to correct the mess which he had made.

“I’m sorry for all this trouble, but I swear, it will be sorted before the weekend’s finished.”

Allister smiled at his brother.

“It’s all right, Gregory. If anything, it will be the most entertainment this weekend has to offer. Ah, but what’s this?” His gaze shifted over Gregory’s shoulder. “It seems as though Lady Cleeves has brought her niece with her. Thank God. What was her name again?”

Gregory glanced at the redheaded young lady.

“Miss Genevieve.”

“Yes, yes, quite right,” Allister said as he stepped towards them. He cleared his throat. “Lady Cleeves, what a pleasure to see you again.”

Gregory shifted away as his brother continued to mingle with the guests. Peering around the room, Gregory spotted Emily speaking with the dowager as she stole several glances at Allister.

This was going to be a miserable evening, indeed.