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She far preferred the anger at that betrayal, for it was a betrayal. He would not have had anything to investigate if it was not for her, other than the shame of being a regretted kiss.

The more she thought about it, the more she leaned toward the second conclusion. And the more she focused on that, the less she thought about how her name sounded as it rolled off his tongue, how his lips felt against hers.

“Because I do not know how else to want you . ”

She flushed, turning away from Frances as she recalled his confession.

A kiss could be a lapse in judgment, but a confession like that surely was not.

“The next time he leaves,” she murmured, “I will follow him.”

The following day, she struggled through another awkward breakfast with her husband. He had not used her Christian name, but he had not reverted to formalities either, as if he did not know where they stood.

When he had finished, he simply nodded to her and left, telling her he had business to attend to out of town.

“I will be here,” she told him sweetly.

Hurriedly, Eleanor made her own plans, intent on following him. And she did.

Her time in the convent had taught her stealth.

Had taught her how to give hushed orders and make silent pleas with her eyes to sway the staff to her whim, and how to move as quietly as possible.

She would not be a quiet wife, sitting in a corner of a pretty house, looking equally pretty.

A duchess enjoying the finer things in life.

No, that was not who she was. She wanted to be useful. She wanted to help Charlotte, and if the Duke was indeed investigating Belgrave or Follet, then she would get involved as well.

With Frances in tow, Eleanor climbed into one of the Duke’s nondescript carriages and followed him.

They journeyed to London, her eyes narrowing the longer the ride went on.

Why would he disappear to London without informing her?

It was several hours away from Everdawn, and by the time she rode into a market, she was restless and annoyed.

Slipping out of the carriage, she waded deeper into the market, passing stalls and merchants that called out their wares. She passed an old tavern where drunkards spilled out of the door, and then she passed by a counting house, keeping the Duke’s figure within view as he hurried down the street.

Eleanor followed on swift feet, halting near a corner at the back of the counting house.

She watched from the shadows as the Duke met with a nervous-looking man who kept wringing his hat and adjusting his worn coat.

His mop of hair was matted from wearing a hat in the heat, only adding to his disheveled look.

The two of them spoke in hushed tones, the Duke’s carrying his authority, while the other man stuttered and cleared his throat often, as if he knew exactly who he was dealing with.

Who are you ?

She eyed the man before her gaze slid to her husband.

And what is going on ?

Eleanor pulled away. Now that she knew for certain he was not having an affair or meeting up with Lord Follet and Lord Belgrave, she quickly melted back into the market, slowly picking her way back to the carriage.

Perhaps she would arrive back at Everdawn at the same time as him. Perhaps she could gather more evidence while she was in London. She could follow him to another location. Maybe his carriage was even parked nearby and she could?—

“Hello, Eleanor.”

Her pulse spiked as she stopped dead by her carriage, finding the Duke leaning against the door, his arms folded over his chest.

Before she could even think up an excuse, he cocked his head. “Are you following me?”

“N-No,” she stammered, looking around. “I…”

“Because the last time I checked, you did not have a rendezvous with your parents. I warned you against being seen by your former fiancé, and you have no friends in London. So that leads me to conclude that you followed me after breakfast.”

“I-I did no such thing.”

“Am I speaking with the Countess of Maplewood or my wife?”

Her face burned with humiliation as she recalled the lie she had spewed the first time they met.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Fine, yes, I followed you. But only because you are so secretive! You are shutting me out of everything. You will not give me answers, you will not tell me about your business, and you frequently disappear for days at a time.”

“So you thought you would investigate me?” He pushed off the door, stalking over to her.

Eleanor wasn’t afraid of him, but she backed up several paces, her eyes fixed on him. His eyes were fierce but heavy, as if he was exhausted, yet he still burned with so much ire.

She felt her back hitting the wall of a building nearby.

“I want to be involved,” she insisted. “You married me to keep me safe, not to shut me out. I can be safe while?—”

“And what if Lord Belgrave is here?” the Duke hissed. “What if he is hiding in this crowd right now, watching you, Eleanor?”

Heavens, she burned at the casual way he uttered her name, at the thought of it stemming from the intimacy of their kiss in the drawing room.

“I need to keep you safe, and that means you must stay out of my business.”

“It was my business before yours,” she shot back hotly. “It was my life that was ruined before anything. I risked my life to tell you about all of this. I have every right to know whether you are investigating him.”

The Duke loomed over her, so close that their chests almost touched. “Get in the carriage.”

His order was flat and short, and she blanched.

“Eleanor,” he grunted, “get in the carriage.”

“So you can finish your secretive meeting in private?”

“No,” he snapped. “So I can take us both home before you are spotted and word gets back to Belgrave. Was it not you who said he could have eyes and ears everywhere? They are more likely to be right here in this part of London than Everdawn Village.”

But Eleanor wouldn’t give in, not that easily.

She tilted her head back and looked him in the eye. “Why are you so insistent on keeping me at arms’ length?”

His eyes were hard, boring into hers. “Is wanting to keep you safe such a difficult thing to grasp? I did not shut you out because of pride or some boastful stubbornness. I did it for your safety . To protect you.” He nodded toward the carriage. “I will order my driver to leave and ride with you.”

Eleanor opened her mouth to protest, but he was already striding past her. By the time she realized that she had somehow trapped herself into a long ride back with him, with nowhere to escape for either of them, he was holding the carriage door open.

He didn’t look at her as she climbed into the carriage. They still had not talked about their kiss.

Eleanor plopped down on the bench, and he got in beside her. He sat close—closer than he had after their wedding—and when he planted his hands on the cushions beneath them, his fingers brushed hers. He drew back quickly, but she wished he hadn’t.

She flushed, thinking of how those fingers had cupped her face in the drawing room, how they had tended to her. His body was so close to hers; all it would take was one ill-timed turn of her head and their faces would touch.

“I would not have returned to my meeting anyway,” the Duke muttered, finally breaking the silence once they had left London proper.

“Sorry?”

“You asked if I wanted you gone so I could return to my meeting. I would not have. It was not as fruitful as I had hoped.”

He shook his head, looking out the window. He muttered under his breath about time wasters and Renshaw.

Eleanor frowned.

Renshaw …

Where had she heard that name?

“You said Renshaw?” she asked.

He went still, turning his head to her. “It is the family name of the man I spoke with. Jack Renshaw. He is a carriage driver in London—and he is involved in Belgrave’s dealings, I am certain.

Either he does not know, or he is keeping secrets.

As he has claimed, his family has a renowned business.

My theory is that his family either does not know about the branch he’s running or knowingly deals with criminals—everything is a masquerade.

And why do you look as though those wheels in your mind are turning? ”

“Because I know the name,” Eleanor said.

Something akin to elation rose within her, the realization that she could provide another piece of a very large, complex puzzle.

He could not shut her out if she had more information.

“At St. Euphemia’s, if a deed was not quite good but not bad enough to warrant punishment, they would send us to Mother Caroline’s office to do paperwork from sunup to sundown.

” She scowled as she spoke. “While I was not sent there often—because the sisters thought I deserved worse—I recall quite a bit. Namely, one Sister Martha.”

“Yes, I think we both recall?—”

“Sister Martha Renshaw.” She paused, watching as he processed the revelation.

She waited to be dismissed, and the thought was so unbearable that she kept on speaking.

“It is not a common name, and if you think the driver is corrupt, then it could tie back to the convent, for it is run by Sister Martha. You… you saw how she treated me. That was not even the worst of it. Corruption might run in the family, for I am certain they are related.”

The Duke was impressed with her, she knew it, but she watched with dismay as he masked it. His mouth still twitched into a smile though as he gazed at her.

He looked ever so casual, his elbow resting on the window’s ledge, his fingers curled around his chin as he simply looked at her. She smiled smugly.

“That is very useful information,” he said. “Thank you.” He paused briefly. “But you will stay out of it, nonetheless. No more following me back to London, no more riding alone.”

“I am a married woman; I do not need a chaperone.”

“ I will be your chaperone,” he countered.

“I just do not want you wandering by yourself. Belgrave could be lurking anywhere. Follet…” He shook his head.

“Just for my peace of mind, stay where I know you are safe. Belgrave and Follet could go further than either of us expect, and what we do know is bad enough. I need to be able to keep you safe.”

For once, Eleanor conceded. There was a hint of a plea in his tone, even though he did not beg her outright.

She nodded, holding his gaze for a moment. “Fine,” she said. “But you can at least tell me when you are leaving for something related to the investigation.”

“I will.”

“And you will try to be home for dinner,” she insisted. “The dining room is terribly big for one person.”

The Duke was silent for a long moment before he said quietly, “I know.”