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“ Y ou have been staring out of that window with some concentration now for quite a while. Are you trying to move the clouds with the power of your mind? Or is there something else captivating your attention?” Julian asked the following day.

Nathaniel turned back to his friend. “To take heat before I accuse somebody of attempting witchery. People have ended up on the stake for less than that.”

“Not for a few centuries, but I shall keep it in mind too,” Julian replied. “Now, what are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Nathaniel said, though he did not move away from the window.

Julian’s grunt came to his ear, and his glass clinked against the table as he marched up to the window. “I see. So the ‘nothing’ you were looking at was actually your precious Duchess.”

“She is not my precious Duchess,” he replied through clenched teeth.

“But I dare say you would wish she were, which is why you are scowling as if you drank curdled milk. You should see if they need your assistance in the dairy.”

“I am not in the mood for your colorful commentary,” he replied. “I am only looking to see how the arrangement is going. That is all.”

“And how is it going?” Julian asked.

Nathaniel shrugged, looking back out into the distance. Lord Worthington had arrived promptly that morning, and after the three of them had conversed for a little while, he had revealed his plans for the day. He was taking Evelyn… riding.

As he thought back to Evelyn’s mortified face, Nathaniel grinned. He knew this was the last thing she had wanted. And it might have been almost amusing if it hadn’t also made it very clear that Worthington was therefore not a contender.

He hadn’t even asked in advance if she would like to go riding. He had simply brought two of his best horses with him to take her.

Now, as they rode away, he shook his head. “She hates riding,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Oh, so you have got to know her better, then,” Julian said with a smile.

“Of course I have. I had to get to know her better so I could find her a better husband. A better option. Since she turned everybody else down.”

“Right,” Julian said. “You don’t think that perhaps she has been turning them down for other reasons?”

“Such as?” he asked.

“Perhaps she is fond of you,” he said.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Do not be ridiculous. Of course, she is not fond of me. She would like it if I just let her have the house and let her be who she wants to be. She does not want to marry at all. That is the trouble. But she will.”

“And what, pray, will you do if she continues to wreak havoc on these gentlemen that you select?”

He shrugged again. “I do not know. She would have to go back to her townhouse then. I know she does not want to be around her father because she knows that he will take her fortune if he can get his hands on it.”

“ If ,” Julian said. “Without a husband, her father will be the one who is in charge of her fortune.”

“I am aware,” Nathaniel said. “I have not told her yet, but my solicitor received a letter this morning saying that Lord Lowey is asking for access to his daughter’s funds.”

Julian grimaced. “Have you told her?”

“Not yet. Though I believe it may be best to tell her because it might inspire her to be less picky when it comes to husbands.”

“And what are you going to do about her father in the meantime?”

“The best thing I can do is delay him. I have instructed my solicitors not to reply for a fortnight and then send a noncommittal reply. That ought to give us some time.”

“Time?” Julian tilted his head. “To do what exactly?”

He wet his lips. “Time to tell her. Time to see that she?—”

“Time for you to admit what is obvious? That you care for her?”

“I do not,” he replied sharply—sharper than he had intended.

“Very well. You just continue to tell yourself that, and perhaps it will be true.”

Nathaniel turned back to him. “Let us not squabble about things of which you know nothing. Let us make plans. Whites tonight?”

“Very well, but it will be on your purse,” Julian said.

“Oh, on my purse?” Nathaniel replied, relieved that their conversation had taken a different turn. “And pray, why is that?”

“Because you are the Duke of Sinclair. And if the ton is to be believed, you are one of the richest men in England. I am merely a marquess, waiting to rise to duke, and even then I shall not be anywhere near as rich.”

Nathaniel raised his hands. He couldn’t argue with this.

It was true that he was far richer than he ever thought possible.

Sometimes, he did not know what to do with all his riches.

When he lived in his small home in Edinburgh, he would never have presumed to be able to spend as freely as he was now.

He certainly would not have been able to spend such an amount on unnecessary renovations simply to annoy the woman who was living in his house.

There were times when he had turned each coin twice before spending.

Not because he had been poor. Once he had become heir again, his uncle had made sure he had enough money to spend.

But he had been careful, because he had never wanted to seem frivolous.

The only time he had spent somewhat too freely had been when he had gone to the watering holes of Edinburgh—or whenever a pretty woman caught his eye.

But what he had now was beyond his wildest dreams.

“Very well. I shall meet you there at eight,” he said.

“Good. I shall leave you to your viewing then,” Julian said and nodded his chin toward the window. “I cannot see them anymore, but I’m sure if you stay long enough, they will come into view again. Do not fret. But perhaps you should change windows. Try the ones upstairs.”

“Julian, do not vex me, or I shall change my mind on whose purse we shall drink on tonight.”

“Very well,” he said as he slapped him on the shoulder before he made his way out into the hall. Soon, he heard the front door clatter, and then Julian walked toward the carriage, which had been waiting for him.

Nathaniel crossed his arms and stared out of the window, but then he realized something. He was doing precisely what Julian had teased him about—standing there waiting to see them come back.

How pathetic was this?

He shook his head and marched away, his footsteps booming loudly in the entry hall because all the paintings and tapestries had been removed for repainting.

He made his way up to his chambers but found that the footmen were removing furniture out of Evelyn’s dressing room—his latest step in his plan to vex her into departing his home. Instead, he went to the library.

There, he dropped into a seat by the window, his feet up on the stool in front of him, and glanced outside.

He wasn’t looking for her. He wasn’t looking for them.

He just so happened to be sitting in a comfortable chair that happened to be near a window.

And so what if he glanced up more than once? So what if he craned his neck more often than was normal to look outside?

That didn’t mean anything. Indeed, not that he was beginning to have feelings for the very woman he wanted to get rid of.

“Nathaniel, do you really hate me so?” Evelyn called out later that evening.

He placed his napkin down and rose from his dinner plate, making his way into the hall where Evelyn had just burst through. She was still in her riding habit; her hair had come loose somewhat, and her bonnet was askew.

“What is the matter now?”

“What is the matter? I told you how much I despise riding, and here you are, letting me ride out with that lord.”

He raised his hands. “It was not my idea for you to go out riding with him. It was his. Besides, I was quite surprised that you did not tell him that you did not wish to, because I am quite familiar with your tongue these last few weeks, and I have never known it to be quite as still as it was this afternoon.”

“Because I was shocked,” she said and curled her hands into fists, her knuckles popping white. “I am terrified of horses.”

“Terrified? Last night you said you mainly did not like?—”

She rolled her eyes, then stood straighter and pulled her shoulders back as if she had realized rolling her eyes was unladylike, although he found it quite expressive and hardly unattractive.

“Terrified, scared, dislike—it is all the same.”

“The professor at Cambridge might beg to differ?—”

“It does not matter,” she said finally. “I do not like riding. You could have said something. You told me that you were going to be more selective when it came to gentlemen.”

“I did. And I am. However, the longer you live here with me, the more difficult it is going to become to find gentlemen, because rumors will begin to spread.”

“What do I care about rumors? What could be worse than being called the?—”

He raised his eyebrows. “Called what?”

“You know what I mean. I heard it more than once yesterday at Almack’s. I do not care for it.”

“Well,” he said, “you know what will remedy that situation?”

“If I get married. Yes, I know. But Nathaniel, I am not entirely your puppet.”

“It seems to me that you are.”

He paused and stuffed his hands into his pockets, thinking back to his conversation from earlier with Julian. This was as good a time as any to tell her.

“Listen. Your father wrote to my solicitors. Asking to get access to?—”

“What?” she said, her eyes widening as her jaw dropped. “You did not agree, did you?”

“Of course not. But it was only a matter of time before he asked. Legally, he can demand everything. I can delay the solicitors for a time. If he writes again, I can tell him that all the money is tied up in the will and all has not yet been settled, although that is not true. But I cannot push it out forever. You must find a husband, and soon.”

“But the physician told Lady Appleton just this morning that the Irish air would be better for her, and that she is considering leaving the dower house, so I could use that.”

“You could use it. And I would let you stay there. But how would you live once your father takes all your funds? You must see sense.”

“No,” she said, then bit her lip. “I mean, not with Lord Worthington. He’s dreadful. He?—”

She seemed suddenly deflated, and he felt bad for having wounded her. Although it wasn’t really his fault that the man was dreadful.

“Apart from making you ride a horse, which you did not tell him you did not like, how was he dreadful?”

She looked at him and took a deep breath, her chest rising in her green riding habit. Then she exhaled, shoulders dropping.

“He compared me with a mare.”

Nathaniel knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he couldn’t help it. He snorted so hard that the gulp of brandy he had taken just a moment before almost came out of his nose.

“Pray, how did he do that? I hope it was to tell you that you are as elegant as his mare. Or that your hair was as shiny as hers?”

“No,” she said. “He told me that I had a calm demeanor.”

This time, Nathaniel let out a belly laugh. “A calm demeanor? Was that just five minutes into your meeting with him?”

She glared at him but did not respond.

“He also said that I have good calves. And then he described his calves. But I’m wearing riding boots. How could he even tell?”

“I suppose he admired them yesterday when you were dancing,” he suggested. “I saw him looking at your calves several times.”

“Do you not see how uncivilized this is? He was a poor choice.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “Very well. I promise you that the next one will be better. He has to be.”

“I suppose,” she replied. Then she looked at him. “Is dinner served? I am rather famished. I know I should?—”

“You wish to dine with me?” he said, genuinely surprised, because they had not taken any meals together other than the occasional luncheon or tea when they had guests.

“If you do not mind. Perhaps we could talk some more about what sort of gentleman I might find suitable or ways I can help you to stall my father’s plans.”

He bit his bottom lip. Did she want to spend time with him just to guide him toward ways to stop her father—or was there more to it? Perhaps both. He couldn’t be sure, but he liked the idea of dining with her. Yet, on the other hand, he knew he had already made plans.

“Perhaps another day. I agreed to meet Julian at the club tonight.”

Her face fell—or at least, it looked as though it did.

“Do not fret. I shall not let your father get his hands on your funds before you find a husband. You are safe with me.”

You are safe with me.

Why had he said that? It had come out as something so … intimate. Much more than he had wanted it to. He looked at her, hoping perhaps she had missed the more-than-tender tone he had used. But she hadn’t.

She looked at him, her lips slightly pursed, the usual scorn gone. She looked as she had yesterday when he had almost kissed her. He had almost kissed her. He had wanted to.

He hadn’t wanted to think about it, and then Julian had brought up the matter earlier. He had pushed it out of his mind, but it was true. That one split second when he had looked into her eyes, he had had a burning desire to taste her lips. To hold her. To keep her safe.

And that same sensation had crept back into him the moment he had said that he was going to keep her safe.

But he should’ve said that he was going to keep her money safe.

What was happening to him?

He shook his head.

“I must go. I beg your pardon. But… let us dine together tomorrow?”

“I cannot,” she said, her tone a little colder than before. “I am to see my… I am to see Aunt Eugenia and my sisters tomorrow.”

“I see,” he said. “Another time.”

“Another time,” she replied, and then departed.

And somehow, it felt different from before. Somehow, the parting wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t a relief.

It was bothersome.

He could not deny that he would have liked to have spent more time with her, much more time.