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Lord Orson shook his head in apparent disbelief, but Emma knew he would not refuse her.

“You are playing with a different type of fire, my lady,” he warned. He lit the taper from the candle inside the sconce and handed it to her. “Goodnight, my lady,” he said evenly.

Emma suspected she might be able to convince him to kiss her again, but she knew, until her memory was restored, there could be no future for them.

“Goodnight, my lord.” She entered her quarters and slowly closed the door behind her, but she held his attention until the last moment.

She could not hide a string of giggles: Emma was giddy with happiness, especially when she heard Lord Orson grumble, “I heard that.”

With as large of a smile as her lips could manage, she made her way about the room, lighting more candles, but her mind was on the man in the room across the hall.

She stopped to wonder if there had previously been another man in her life, other than the one to which she was supposedly betrothed and for whom she held no memory.

“Likely a few flirtations,” she reasoned as she began to undress.

Whoever had packed her bags had sent her two simple gowns that laced up the front, as well as a few shawls; therefore, there was no need for her to ring for a maid to assist her nor for her to look again upon the stack of envelopes tied together with a black ribbon and stuffed into a side pocket of her empty bag.

Everything she required as a guest in Lord Duncan’s house had been placed into the drawers of the wardrobe or hung on hooks inside the large piece of furniture.

“ I am not yet prepared to know what that correspondence holds. It is likely letters from my parents,” she reasoned, but the quickness of her breathing said such was only wishful thinking.

“Instead, I plan to think upon Lord Orson and the kiss we shared as I prepare for bed. It shall be much more enjoyable to consider his kiss .”

She continued to reflect on her current circumstances as she removed the pins from her hair.

“ Had that been my first kiss? As I assumed earlier, I likely have been afraid to trust a man long enough to permit a kiss. If I live alone, as I have been told, I must have been afraid of doing many things. People think those alone are independent, when, in truth, we are quite frightened by the world.” Emma sighed heavily, wishing to know what was what, especially now that she had encountered a man of Lord Orson’s character.

“I shall have Marjory brush my hair in the morning,” she told the empty room.

“I am weary and the maid has been most solicitous of my injury.” Knowing she must rise early to join the Duncans for breakfast, she blew out two of the candles and circled the bed to turn back the bed linens, but rather than climb upon the mattress, Emma screamed in fear.

Richard turned to his temporary quarters, taking a moment to adjust his manhood, which had taken the opportunity to announce its desire to mate with Lady Emma Donoghue.

He would likely be required to step behind the screen and relieve himself, which might be easier than one might believe, for the scent of Lady Emma clung to him.

With his eyes closed, Richard stood in the middle of the room and worked his jacket from his shoulders, tossed it on the chair and began to release the row of buttons on his waistcoat.

Behind his closed eyelids, an image of Lady Emma wearing nothing but a smile stood before him as his waistcoat followed his jacket to land beside the chair, rather than on it.

Instead of picking up the waistcoat, Richard made his way behind the screen as he began to loosen the first of the buttons on the flap of breeches. The top two had been freed when Lady Emma’s scream had Richard knocking over the screen as he rushed to open the door to reach her.

Shoving the offending door aside, it took the passage of less than a handful of heartbeats before Richard’s eyes located her.

Lady Emma was plastered against the wall between the window and the bed.

Though a candle sat on the small table beside the bed, the bowl which had also earlier occupied the table had been knocked to the floor and shattered.

Richard crossed the room in four long strides to catch Lady Emma up in his embrace.

“I have you,” he repeated over and over again, though he did not believe she had fallen asleep long enough to conjure up a nightmare; he could not imagine what had frightened her, for no one could have escaped her room without Richard seeing the man.

He eased her back a few steps towards the window so he might see whether the threat had come from someone she spotted on the grounds.

“Come, my girl,” he coaxed as he kissed the top of her head. “You must tell me what alarmed you.”

Before she could respond to his plea, Richard could hear Marksman calling his name. Richard had forgotten that his friend was still in the house.

“In here!” Richard called. “My quarters!”

Marksman appeared in the open doorway. “Theodora thought she heard someone scream,” his friend said in explanation.

Orson suspected his friend had been enjoying a few moments of privacy with Lady Theodora, but nothing more would be said beyond, “Theodora thought...”

“Yes,” Richard said, tightening his arms about the woman he still held. “Something frightened Lady Emma.” He leaned down to speak to her. “Can you tell me the source of your fear?”

She kept her face buried into his chest, but she swung her arm in the direction of the bed.

“Something to do with the bed?” he asked, and she nodded rapidly.

Marksman crossed to the bed and had a look beneath it and around it. When he raised his shoulders in bewilderment, Richard again bent his head to say, “Marksman sees nothing suspicious. Could you speak more specifically as to what frightened you?”

“The paper,” she murmured against the fine threading of his shirt. “On the pillow.”

Marksman tossed first one pillow and then the other aside before jerking the bedcover and blanket down the bed, as he rummaged through the bed linens only to have a folded-over piece of paper fall upon the floor.

Richard’s friend snatched it up to open it and read the message.

Marksman shrugged and handed it to Richard.

He adjusted his hold on Lady Emma and brought the paper closer where the candlelight might assist him. Richard read it: The message meant a bit more to him than it would to Marksman. “Cannot find the three... You will die.”

“Cannot find the three?” Marksman asked. “Three what?”

“We are not confident what ‘the three’ means. It was something Lady Emma said when I discovered her in Covent Garden. ‘Must find the three,’” Richard confided.

“The message must be from someone in this household who knew of the task. It was the middle of the night when I first brought Lady Emma here.”

“Then you rang the bell for Mr. Fields to admit you?” Marksman reasoned.

“Are you suggesting someone in this household placed the note on Lady Emma’s bed?” Richard demanded.

“Who else? No one other than Hartley and Rheem have been within, and I suppose Mr. Nelson, Davidson’s man of business.

Surely Nelson was not admitted any further than the front sitting room.

They are the only ones who cannot be counted as part of the household,” Marksman reasoned.

“Is it possible for some member of the staff to have overheard what transpired when Mr. Rheem examined Lady Emma?”

“I was outside the door the whole time,” Richard assured.

“Who attended Lady Emma?” Marksman asked in his customary reasonableness.

“Mrs. Chester and Marjory,” Richard supplied. “Both women still assist Lady Emma with baths, dressing, and the sort. I cannot imagine either of them would go to such lengths.”

“No one else?” Marksman asked.

“No one,” Richard declared.

“There was the one who brought me the gown and robe,” Emma said against his neck where Richad had nestled her close to his side.

“Which one?” Marksman asked. “Dora’s customary maid?”

Richard had to close his eyes to recall the scene.

He had held Lady Emma on his lap, fearful if he stood her on her feet, she would collapse and die before his eyes.

His own heart could not survive if such had been true.

“Not Winston, but the young one with the mousy brown hair. Irish, I believe, but could be Scottish. That would make more sense, as many know Duncan has hired quite a few from his homeland. Relatively new on Duncan’s staff.

Came aboard about the same time as Mrs. Braylon. ”

“I will question her,” Marksman assured. “I should let Theodora know what occurred. Then I mean to seek my own bed elsewhere. You are staying, correct?”

“I am staying,” Richard confirmed. He held no doubt Marksman knew Richard would be sleeping in the same room as Lady Emma. If someone meant to harm her, the person would have to come through Richard to reach her.