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“Around midnight, I came upon our daughter in the gardens with Baron Godfrey, who was taking liberties with Beatrice. And when I saw His Grace pause near our fence, I took matters into my own hands. Someone had to make a good match for our daughter.”

All eyes swung to Andrew. “I admit, as I was returning home from a friend’s, I heard noises and footsteps in your garden, and I peered over the fence, thinking it was a thief. I saw nothing and left right away.”

“When I saw Blackstone near the fence, the scandal wrote itself,” Lady Hartford said. “If Beatrice was going to be ruined by anyone, it may as well be His Grace.”

“What were you thinking meeting Baron Godfrey in our gardens?” bellowed Hartford at his daughter.

Andrew wanted to disappear from the room. Perhaps he would have snuck out the door if his and Emmeline’s future weren’t on the line.

“It was all innocent, Papa. He did nothing but hold my hand. Mother is exaggerating as she always does.”

“Regardless, two unmarried people meeting at midnight in a dark garden without a proper chaperone is cause for scandal.”

“If that is the case, he will offer for me,” she said dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. “I love him, Papa.”

“Why has he not approached me for permission to court you?”

“Ask Mama.”

Countess Hartford stood, her face red and her voice angry. “Because I will not have our only child marry a baron. I want her to marry a duke. The Duke of Blackstone, to be precise. That’s all I have thought about ever since he returned to London. She deserves to be a duchess.”

The earl and Andrew exchanged shocked looks.

Andrew’s insides coiled up tight. He could not believe what the countess had said.

He knew she was hungry to procure an advantageous match for Lady Beatrice, but to be so underhanded?

To risk ruining her own daughter to get what she wanted, regardless of what her daughter wanted? The lady had no scruples.

“But Blackstone has never shown any interest in Beatrice,” Hartford said, apparently dumbfounded.

“And he has outright exclaimed he will not marry her under any circumstances. You risked your daughter’s reputation and future for something you want.

You have gone too far this time. Leave this room and pack your things.

I hope you will be happy in the country. ”

The countess left in a huff, leaving Hartford, Lady Beatrice, and Andrew looking at each other. The tension in the room was palpable.

“Thank you for seeing me, Lord Hartford,” Andrew said. “I hope you can straighten out this dilemma.”

“Yes. Me as well,” the earl replied.

Andrew couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Just as he entered the hall, Lady Hartford approached. “Mark my words, Your Grace, you will marry my daughter. I will do whatever it takes,” she said with a sneer.

Shaking his head, he slipped out the door and waited a moment before his horse was brought to him.

He mounted, his head aching to the point he thought it might explode.

He pitied the earl being married to such an unreasonable woman and hoped he was true to his word and sent her away to his country seat.

*

After Andrew left, Emmeline continued sitting in her pretty gazebo.

It took too much energy and strength to move.

When she’d woken up that morning, she’d missed Andrew—last night had transcended anything she’d ever experienced.

Making love with him completed her. Made her whole.

Being with Andrew seemed the most natural and right thing. If she lost him now...

Tears slid down her cheeks, and she didn’t bother wiping them away. More would only replace them.

She couldn’t fathom a life without him. She’d done it before, but she’d had Aiden to love back then, to make up for the lack. If their relationship unraveled this time—and so wretchedly—she would lose all hope of ever having love in the future—with him or anyone else.

She sat there for a long time—she lost track of how long. When footsteps approached again, she knew who they belonged to. Her heart tripled its beat, and her breath paused inside her lungs.

“I believe it is all straightened out. Lady Hartford is to blame for everything, right down to supplying the gossip rag with the scandal.” He sat down beside her and took one of her hands in his.

“To say I’m shocked at her behavior doesn’t do it justice.

She is willing to ruin Lady Beatrice in the hope of getting me to marry her.

Who does that to their own child, someone they are supposed to protect and love?

” He paused and shuddered. “The earl was livid, and poor Lady Beatrice loves Baron Godfrey, as it turns out. But no lowly baron is good enough for her daughter, according to the countess. I give the earl credit for keeping his temper, although he is banishing his wife to the country. Too bad he didn’t do it sooner.

I highly doubt she only recently turned into a conniving shrew. ”

“What happens now?” Emmeline asked in a soft voice. Her mental fatigue was causing physical exhaustion, making speaking tiresome. “I’m afraid to hope it will all go away.”

“I believe the earl is contacting the baron. Hopefully, they will marry posthaste and squash the rumors. Nothing ends a scandal quicker than a happy marriage. Hartford must convince the paper that there was an error in identifying the gentleman caught in the garden with his daughter. It shouldn’t be hard—it was dark. ”

“What if it fails?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He turned toward her and cupped her face, his compassionate green eyes meeting hers.

“We must have faith. We have done nothing to cause this, and I trust Lord Hartford to solve it.” He kissed her, soft and gentle.

His tongue crept inside her mouth, tasting her.

He went slowly, as though he had all the time in the world.

She gripped the front of his coat as her body quivered.

His kisses and his touch never failed to make her burn for him.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead on hers. “I’m sorry, but I must go. I must return to Hartford Manor and confirm that all is fixed.” He pressed his lips to hers. “I will pick you up for the Tremont ball.”