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“C ome,” he coaxed once they were alone again. “I have you,” Richard said as he lifted her into his arms. “Nothing will harm you: You have my promise.”

“I wish I could remember it all and be done with it,” she murmured against his skin.

“You will. And soon,” he said as he carried her into the room he had been using and closed the door with a shove from his foot. Depositing her on the edge of the bed, he flipped the bedding to the side. “You will be safe with me.”

“Someone has threatened me,” she said in a small voice that had his heart wishing to embrace her forever. “Was not leaving me bruised and battered enough? Must he frighten me? Torment me? Again and again.”

Richard leaned over her and pressed her back against the pillow.

“Whoever your attacker is, he has underestimated the Lady Emma Donoghue I know. Any woman who would stand against some of the most powerful peers in England is not easily intimidated,” he said softly, forcing her to listen to his words and digest them.

“You cannot be a victim, Emma. Such was one of the first lessons Lord Duncan taught each of those young boys he brought to live under his roof. Being a victim means you are weak and can be defeated. You have friends now. You are no longer alone in this world.” God!

Richard had never thought to say those words to another, but he had, and he held no doubt they were true.

“I admitted you into my world long before I knew you, for you earned my admiration for your spirit and your fine heart. You stood toe-to-toe with those for whom you held disdain and demanded their respect.”

He had pressed a chaste kiss on her lips, but Emma was not satisfied with his chivalry.

He lingered a moment, which was long enough for her to reach up and pull him closer, pressing a hand against his back to hold him in place.

She wondered if he would consider her too forward, but his lips’ gentle touch warmed her through.

She could feel his pulse increasing in tempo with hers.

When he pulled away, Emma felt bereft of his tenderness.

He sighed heavily, which went a long way in pleasing Emma’s confidence.

His gaze dropped to her lips, and Emma could not resist a little wiggle of self-satisfaction.

Though she had no memory of her social life before stumbling into this man’s arms, she strongly doubted there was another who could make her feel as he did.

“You require sleep and so do I,” he said as he stood, “and, if I kiss you again, sleep will not occur.” He pulled the bedding back and eased her down upon the pillow.

Then he tucked it about her, almost like a cocoon, as if it was meant to protect her from him.

“If something occurs between us, I want you fully aware of each kiss. Each touch. And I want it to be your choice. Your free choice, Emma. I want to be the man you choose, but not from obligation for my efforts to save you.”

He claimed the other pillow from the bed, as well as an extra blanket from the wardrobe. She raised her head to watch him make a bed on the floor before the empty hearth. He removed his shoes and his stockings, but bedded down fully clothed.

“Goodnight, my lord,” she said as she turned upon her side and snuggled deeper into the warmth of the bedding.

“Goodnight, my lady,” he said. “Sleep well, Emma.”

When Emma arrived in the morning room, Lord Duncan was at the breakfast table, but Lord Orson was not.

Theodora must have noted Emma’s dismay, for her new friend said, “Thompson meant to speak to Mrs. Dove-Lyon about the coat. Orson and Hartley accompanied his lordship. The woman agreed to an early meeting, before she went to bed.”

“I see,” Emma noted in disappointment.

“Father has spoken to Mrs. Chester regarding the maids and the footmen,” Lady Theodora continued. “Unfortunately, the girl who assisted my Winston the evening you arrived on our doorstep has her half day off today. Father and Mrs. Chester will question her when she returns.”

“Thank you,” Emma said as Mr. Fields poured her tea. “You have all been most kind.”

“I would ask you two to stay close to the house today. We expect each of our questions from last evening to have an answer,” Lord Duncan assured.

“By the way, do you know where Orson placed the list you constructed? His lordship said your notes were on the table when he carried you to your quarters. Theodora could not find them this morning.”

Emma frowned. “I remember still holding the pencil,” she said lamely. “It seems so much of my life is now blank. I suppose I am quite useless to everyone.”

“Yet, you did not forget the list, and I imagine you remember well many of the ideas you wrote down. They are still part of your current memory. Am I correct? I find when I write something down, I recall it more accurately.”

“Yes,” Emma said with new hope. “I had a list of what all must be learned from those at the Lyon’s Den, as well as whether there is an actual agreement between my father and Lord Davidson and even when I will reach my majority.”

“See. I knew you would remember,” Lady Theodora declared.

“Mr. Rheem is to call around ten this morning to see both of us,” Lord Duncan informed her.

“Then, after I break my fast, I shall search for the list. Perhaps Lord Orson placed it in a drawer or perhaps he took it with him to jog his memory of all you must learn from Mrs. Dove-Lyon,” Emma suggested.

“Thank you for agreeing to speak to us this morning,” Hartley said when they were finally shown into Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s private office.

They three bowed to the woman who had her finger on the pulse of London society, though more than a few were not intelligent enough to realize the power the woman wielded.

“I assume you have additional questions regarding the coat we found,” she said as she sat behind a very large and impressive desk.

Hartley, as the government’s official agent said, “Just a few, though your employee was most kind in responding to Lord Orson’s questions last evening. Yet, we must admit our investigation into the attack on Lord Duncan has met more than a few dead ends.”

“I doubt I shall be more helpful than was Titan,” she said. “Though he keeps me regularly informed of such matters, I generally leave them to his discretion.”

Hartley rearranged his notes while Richard studied the woman’s office decor, which was mostly in red and gold opulence and, definitely, not to his taste.

In his opinion, the paintings should be hanging in an older gentleman’s private quarters, not a place of business, even if the room was Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s private office.

He briefly wondered if they had been part of her late husband’s choices.

Though from a respectable family, Colonel Sandstrom T.

Lyon held his own reputation for a bit of stubbornness and a no-sass tolerated attitude.

“Not to everyone’s taste,” the woman remarked when she noted Richard’s distraction.

“I apologize, ma’am. I did not mean to be rude,” he said obediently. He knew some men who would be enticed by the images, but he considered the idea of Lady Emma Donoghue asleep on the small settee last evening much more enticing than these all-too-graphic paintings.

“I have been told the Prince Regent and I share a similar taste,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said with what Richard assumed was a smile, though the veil she wore constantly prevented him from knowing with any confidence.

“I cannot say in assurance, ma’am,” he said with a nod of appreciation. “I am rarely in His Royal Highness’s company.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon barked a laugh. “That makes two of us, my lord. I am glad to be in your esteemed company instead.”

Hartley cleared his throat to warn Richard they had serious business to address. “Could you speak to the area in which the coat was found, ma’am?”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon shifted her shoulders into a more professional posture, and, for a moment, Richard wished they could continue their banter. He found he liked the Black Widow of Whitehall more than he had expected.

“The area where the coat was found is where the musicians enter at the back of the house. It has a small foyer, so to speak. There are equally spaced recesses in the wall. At one time, long before Colonel Lyon and I spoke our vows, they were used to display antique vases and small marble statues. As they are set in a manner to provide support for the pillars on either side and ultimately the ceiling, we sometimes use the spaces to set aside additional decks of cards, serving glasses, cleaning rags, and the like for those unexpected accidents. Nothing major. Nothing expensive. In fact, the spaces are so designed to be decorative in their own right, rather than useful. We made them useful, as I can bear nothing, except my taste in art,” she said with another chuckle, “that is not useful. Their openings are not so wide, and I would assume whoever placed the coat within had to work its thickness into the space. It would not have gone in easily. According to Titan, it did not come out without a lot of cursing and maneuvering.”

“So, it is not likely it was placed there the night of Lord Duncan’s attack?” Lord Thompson asked before Richard could organize his thoughts.

“As you likely noted last evening,” the woman continued, “there are streaks of mud on one side, and the coat still has a musty smell, so Titan and I have assumed it had been left out in London’s rain for more than a couple of weeks before it was moved into its hiding place.”