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The next day

M iles frowned at his plate. The eggs were tasteless, and the coffee was weak. Another sleepless night with Lady Gwendolyn waltzing with him, more kisses, more heated touches. More frustration upon waking. He was becoming obsessed. With her or his dreams?

Both.

He pushed back the plate and crossed his arms over his chest. Where were they?

He’d purposely taken his breakfast later so he could dine with them.

The footman hovered with the silver coffee pot, but seeing Miles’s cup was still full, he melted back against the wall. “Have the ladies eaten?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord,” replied the footman. “They asked for trays sent to the morning room, where they’re meeting the modiste.”

Fittings. That’s what they were up to. What did she need clothes for? he wondered impatiently, tracing the rim of his teacup. He took a drink and grimaced. Cold.

Of course, she needs clothes you imbecile.

Miles pushed back from the table and marched to the morning room. Empty. He checked the parlor. Empty. The drawing room. Empty. Both bedchambers. No answer. He was successful in the library. Both women occupied the wingback chairs in front of the cold hearth.

“Lord Wickton, good day,” said Lady Greywood.

Lady Gwendolyn glanced up from her book. “Hello, my lord. You look tired.”

He frowned.

“Now you look perturbed.” She cocked her head, one pale brow arched. “Are you perturbed?”

“Yes! I mean, no, of course not. Why would I be?” he demanded.

She shrugged. “I was only asking.” Her blonde head bent over her book again.

He noticed the bottle-green dress complemented her golden skin. Her teeth chewed at her bottom lip as she scanned the pages of her novel. The same bottom lip he had ravished last night in his dreams.

“When do you want to attempt the archery lesson?” he barked.

Lady Gwendolyn peeked over her book, blue eyes wide. “Whenever it is convenient for you, my lord.”

Good. He was back in control. Miles raised his chin and straightened his shoulders. “ Now suits me.”

“What has your temper up, Cousin?” asked Lady Greywood in a mild tone. “You seem out of sorts.”

He realized he had both their attention. Miles let out a long breath. “I apologize. I have not been sleeping well. I didn’t mean to sound like a blustery old man.”

“You are most definitely not an old man,” said Lady Greywood.

“Blustery, however…” added Lady Gwendolyn. She stood up and tossed her book on a side table. “I have been looking forward to this.”

Her smile transformed him. She had been looking forward to seeing him. The knot in his stomach unwound. “I will meet you at the grove near the stable in a half hour.” Miles attempted a half smile. “You are welcome to join us, Lady Greywood.”

The older woman looked up. “Oh, merci , but no. I’m quite comfortable.”

Miles set up the target, then inspected his bow and the smaller one he’d brought for Lady Gwendolyn. He nocked an arrow, pulled back the string as he eyed the bullseye, and let go.

“Impressive,” said Lady Gwendolyn behind him.

He turned, soaking in the praise. “Thank you, my lady.”

“I wonder how long it will take me to become accustomed to that.” She leaned against the table holding the arrows and bow. “I’ve been Miss Bernard most of my life.”

Miles settled next to her. “It must be disconcerting.”

She nodded. “In the last few months, I’ve gone from Miss Bernard to His Grace, the Duke of Shackerley, and now Lady Gwendolyn and my lady. I woke up the other morning and had to remember who I was before I got dressed.”

He laughed. “It’s been quite an upheaval for you.”

“And you,” she said quietly, placing her hand on his arm. “I am sorry for the deception, the confusion… You are so dear to me, and I don’t want anything to change that.”

His heart twisted a little. “You’ve become important to me as well. I apologize for my sour attitude. It’s not like me.”

“No,” she agreed, “you are a kind and good man. I’m honored to be your second cousin.”

Had she emphasized “second” for a reason? Miles glanced at her, wondering if she was as affected by their proximity as he was. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but now he thought of it… Was she attracted to him? In that way?

The thrumming in his belly was back, heat spreading to his core. Lady Gwendolyn still gazed at him with questioning eyes, her lips slightly parted. What if he?—

“Is this the bow I should use?” she asked, picking up the smaller one and holding it between them. “What should I do first?”

He gave her a demonstration, explaining the basic form. When she tried, the arrow hit the ground before it came close to the tree. “Let me help you,” he said.

Framing his arms around her, he guided her hands and helped her to pull the arrow and string back to her shoulder.

Her skin was smooth and warm, sending his pulse into a frenzy.

Her silken curls tickled his nose, lavender and vanilla filling his senses.

He closed his eyes, praying for fortitude.

“Now, take a breath, hold it, and let go.”

Zing! Her arrow landed in the outer circle. “Well done, you hit the target.”

“I did! Thank you, Lord Wickton,” she said, her face turned up to his.

“Miles,” he said, wanting to hear his name on her lips. “Call me Miles.”

“Gwen,” she whispered. “My family calls me Gwen.”

His arm reached out to pull her close just as she reached for another arrow. She nocked it as he’d instructed, pulled back with her eye on the target, took a breath and let it loose. She made the target again, still in the outside circle. “I rather enjoy this.”

I rather enjoy you.

They had a mock competition. Miles helped “guide” her several more times, coming close to the kiss he now obsessed to steal from her. He would be patient. She was an innocent, and he still wasn’t certain it was more than lust.

“What will happen when Graham arrives?” she asked as they walked back to the castle. “Will you stay on to mentor him?”

“I will have to return to my own estate, but I have an excellent steward. Returning shouldn’t be a problem. We still have to find an estate manager for Shackerley Place.”

“Do you miss your home, Miles?” Lady Gwendolyn placed her hand in the crook of his arm as they approached the hill.

His hand covered hers without thought, his heart swelling at the sound of his given name. How well their fingers fit together. They seemed to fit together. “At times. I have wonderful memories there.”

“Is it lonely?”

“You are intuitive. Yes, it can be lonely.” Why hadn’t he noticed before? Had he been too busy saving the estate? The return home had lost some of its appeal.

“I would love to visit one day,” she said, peeking up at him from under her pale lashes.

“You would like it,” he agreed. “We shall arrange it once your brother has arrived.”

Later as he dressed for supper, the conversation echoed in head. He could see her at Wickton House, greeting him at breakfast, charming the servants, arranging dinners with the neighbors.

Deuced nodcock, he thought. Things a wife would do.

Is that where this was leading? He had decided it was time for a wife.

“You seem pensive all of a sudden.” Lady Gwendolyn squeezed his arm. “I’d be happy to lend an ear if you need one.”

“I was thinking how nice it would be to dine with my cousins tonight,” he said, reaching over and tweaking her nose. “Or do you prefer the Duke and Duchess of Cranbrook over my humble table?”

“Never, my lord!” She withdrew her hand as he opened a door, and she slipped inside. “Until tonight, then.”