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It felt so good to be snugged against him that she let her eyes slide shut for a moment. It felt achingly right. As if she was secure in his arms—safe in a way she hadn’t felt in weeks—surrounded by his heat, his scent, the wisp of his breath against her skin.

“What is this?” he whispered.

She didn’t wonder for a moment what he meant. He spoke of the pull between them. Despite her fears, despite how fragile her heart still felt, this…magnetism between them was powerful. Undeniable.

“It’s dangerous,” she whispered, and yet she didn’t let him go. Didn’t want him to let her go. “It’s come on so sudden, and I feel like the worst of friends.”

“No,” he insisted, “you’ve done nothing wrong. I’m at fault. I’ve taken advantage of your kindness, your willingness to help others.”

Daphne scoffed. “I hardly helped you. I regretted agreeing to do so almost immediately and then all your hopes were dashed the next day.”

He tipped his head, looking up into the sapphire stretch of clear night sky above them. When he looked at her again, he seemed overcome with some emotion.

“They weren’t my hopes, Daphne.” A flicker of a grimace tightened his lips. “I haven’t been honest. I wanted to fulfill my brother’s wishes in regard to Lady Selina.”

Daphne tried to make sense of what he was saying. “Your brother wanted you to court Selina?”

“He did, and my desire to do what he asked of me was so great that I failed to foresee the consequences. Though I’m not sure I could have predicted you.” He smiled, but it was quick and fleeting, like the grimace had been.

“Kiss me.” The words whispered out before she could stop them, shocking her. The urge was impulsive, and impulse had gotten her nothing but heartache. She’d learned that lesson, hadn’t she? And yet she had no desire to take them back.

He reached up and traced her check with the backs of his fingers, stroked along her chin and then held his finger there, studying her face as if he was determined to memorize every feature.

“You won’t want me to.”

“I do want you to.” A month or so ago, she’d almost given away her first kiss to a man unworthy of even a moment of her attention.

Now, she was in the arms of a man she was drawn to beyond all reason, and even if he was going to leave London, she wanted him to be the first man she ever kissed. “Please.”

The word had barely slipped out before he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers, softly, gently, as if he was waiting for her to come to her senses and push him away.

She didn’t. Wrapping her fingers around his lapel, Daphne tugged him closer, pulling herself up and kissing him back with all the yearning he’d stoked in her—despite her plan to never hope again.

He groaned as he deepened the kiss, letting her feel his hunger. He took her mouth again and again, his hand stroking up her back to pull her as close as he could get her.

The past didn’t matter. Whatever came next didn’t matter. Only this moment.

Distantly, she heard a sound echoing through the garden. Then footsteps.

Lord Windham immediately lifted his head, though he still held her close. Daphne was grateful for it. She was breathless and her knees felt as firm as warm jelly.

“Dinner,” Ivy whispered from the other side of the hedges.

Daphne stroked up his chest, resting her hand on the center of his chest. She was not alone in these wild, undeniable feelings. His heart thrashed strong and fierce beneath her palm.

“Dinner,” she whispered.

“We should go in.” His voice emerged deliciously rough.

She forced herself to step out from behind the hedges.

Ivy had already gone ahead of them and stood waiting on the paving stones that led back into Edgerton House.

He held her hand as they made their way inside, only releasing her once they stepped over the threshold. As they entered the dining room, Daphne was not at all surprised to note that Lily had seated her next to Julian.

She strode over to take her seat, then realized he was no longer behind her.

Looking back, she found he’d stalled at the dining room threshold, his eyes wide and fixed on a spot across the room.

She followed the direction of his gaze and realized he’d noted the arrival of his twin ten-year-old sisters, Marigold and Hyacinth.

It shocked many guests that the two were invited to dine with adults during dinner parties, but it was a practice Lily and Griffin had begun shortly after their marriage.

“You have twin sisters.” He sounded dumbstruck.

“I do. It may seem strange that they join these gatherings.”

“No, not at all. Your family is a loving one.”

She led him down the table. The other guests were still gathering, chatting as they took their seats.

“Hyacinth, Marigold.”

The girls were dark-haired and green-eyed, like Daphne’s other younger sister, Ivy. Like Cassian and Julian.

He could tell from his first glimpse of them that they were very distinct personalities, like he and Julian had always been.

Some expected twins to be alike in most respects; they rarely were.

Unlike in many families, it seemed the Bridewells encouraged the sisters’ differences.

Many twins of their age would be expected to dress alike.

Not the Bridewell twins. One wore a vivid magenta-colored dress.

The other wore a muted gray-blue one, and he couldn’t help but notice the shell on a ribbon around her neck.

He immediately felt an affinity for that nod to the sea.

“How do you do?” he said to the one in the bright-hued gown. She held a notebook clutched under her arm.

“Pleased to meet you, my lord,” Marigold Bridewell said, dropping into a practiced curtsy.

“And Miss Hyacinth Bridewell,” he said to the other, then gestured toward her necklace. “A keepsake from the seaside?”

“Oh,” she said, reaching up to touch her fingers to the queen scallop shell with lines of pink—like the roses Daphne had showed him—running through it. “It’s from a family trip to Margate.”

Hyacinth Bridewell beamed to have the keepsake noticed. “Are you fond of the seaside, my lord?”

“I am. Very much so.” Cassian glanced at Daphne.

In truth, he’d never felt more at sea than he did now. After that kiss.

He’d wanted it. Good God, he couldn’t have said no to save himself. When she’d asked him, he’d wondered for a moment if he was lost in some dream.

But now, with the taste of her still on his lips, guilt crept in.

That kiss had signified more than mere desire. She’d given him her trust. She’d given him a gift.

And he was the very devil to have taken what she offered when she didn’t even know his name.

Dinner with the Bridewells and their small handful of friends was both a blessing he did not deserve and a reminder of what he’d given up when he’d vowed to remain alone for the rest of his days.

The family engaged in lively and open discussion. When mention of the remaining social events of the Season came up, Daphne glanced his way.

Perhaps she hoped he’d change his mind and stay, but if anything, the kiss reminded him why he needed to go. He was not the man she thought he was, and she deserved a man who would never disappoint her as he was about to do.

As soon as dinner service ended, guests made their way to the drawing room to continue their discussions. A few made their way out to the lantern-lit gardens.

“I should go,” he forced himself to say when she joined him at the edge of the drawing room. “I depart on the early train.”

She stared at him. “You’re still leaving?”

“I must. Will you walk with me to the door?”

“If you like.” Keeping her distance, never looking his way, she led him to the foyer of the Edgerton townhouse, where a servant returned his hat and gloves.

“Did you know,” he asked, “that I am a twin, Miss Bridewell?” His heart thrashed as if it might break free of his chest. This had to be done, he told himself. And he had to face the consequences of his deceit.

“No.” She tipped her head. “I did not know that.”

“We are very different, my brother and I, except for the physical resemblance. Many cannot tell us apart. You did. You are the only who noticed the difference.”

Her breath hitched, and she recoiled as though the weight of the revelation had physically struck her.

“What are you saying?” The lovely flush of pink drained from her cheeks, fading as she paled. “That you’re not Julian Rourke, Viscount Windham?”

Cassian had thought the rifle bullet that tore through his arm and side during his naval service was the most pain he’d ever experience.

But now, watching the hope in her eyes dim and twist into horror, was just as searing and sudden.

Except now, all the pain gathered in the center of his chest. Right where she’d touched him but an hour ago.

“Forgive me, Daphne. I am not Lord Windham. I’m Cassian, his brother.”

“He never came back to London,” she breathed. “You lied…to everyone.”

Cassian bowed his head, then forced it up again. Forced himself to see the pain he’d caused.

“I should have told you the truth the moment I met you.”

She retreated a step back, then another, as if revolted by his nearness. “Please go,” she whispered.

“Daphne—”

“Please go,” she said more fiercely, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes.

So he did. He left Edgerton House, walking away from the only woman who’d ever made him wish for the sort of future he’d long told himself he did not deserve.

And tonight, he’d proved himself undeserving by causing her pain. He’d never forgive himself for that. And now, all that was left was to tell his brother of his failure on his behalf too.