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“H e’s here! Mama, come quick. Graham has come,” shouted Gwen up the stairs. She ran to the door, sliding to a stop behind Mr. Garner.

“Calm, my lady. Practice being calm,” he murmured as she smoothed her silk skirts. “You are the sister of a duke.”

The butler had become a tutor of sorts, gently reminding her when her behavior wasn’t quite up to par. She had made excellent progress, according to him and her mother. Miles didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

Although she hadn’t wanted to wed immediately, Miles had explained about the reading of the banns. It was ridiculous, of course. An archaic rule. But he had also included the fact that her brother should attend the nuptials. He needed to ask for the duke’s blessing.

Said duke now emerged from the carriage, and her propriety dissolved as she ran down the portico steps and flung herself at Graham. He stumbled back, righted himself, then twirled her in a circle, kissing her soundly on the cheek.

“Sister, I’ve missed you,” he said, wiping the tears from her face. “It’s a happy time.”

“Tears of joy, Brother dear,” she said. “I knew you would return to us.”

“For now, anyway.”

“My boy,” cried Mama from the doorway. Graham dashed up the steps and embraced his mother, who was also crying. “Let me see you. Have you changed?”

“Thinner?”

“We can fix that,” Mama said, hugging him again.

Someone cleared their throat. Gwen turned to find Mr. Walters and Mr. Barnaby behind her. “I’m so sorry,” she said to both men. “Mr. Barnaby, whatever are you doing here?”

“He insisted on coming. Wanted to see for himself that you were both fine,” said Graham.

Miles called from the entry hall. “Come in, come in.”

They were soon settled in the parlor, hot tea and biscuits brought in for the travelers, and the Beaumaris family all talking at once. Gwen watched Mr. Barnaby and wondered with horror if he had come to propose. She needed to explain she was already betrothed.

“Mr. Walters, will you be staying?” she asked the investigator.

He nodded. “For the night, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course not,” said Miles. “We need to settle our business. I also need to speak with Shackerley.”

Graham blinked, then grinned. “That’s me, eh? About dukedoms and titles?”

“About sisters and marriage,” supplied Mama.

Graham’s eyes widened, and he looked at his sister. “You’ve fallen in love?”

Gwen nodded, a shy smile curving her lips as she stole a glance at Miles, who was beaming. Then she glanced at Mr. Barnaby, worried he would be shocked. To her surprise, he was staring at her mother.

“Well, marriage must be the new fashion this summer. It’s the second time a fellow has talked to me about wedded bliss.” Graham nodded at his mother. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing Mr. Barnaby, but he told me you had agreed to marry him before you disappeared.”

“You proposed to my mother?” Gwen asked, shocked. “When?”

“The day the investigators interrupted us,” said Mama, her face glowing as she held out a hand to Mr. Barnaby. “We were just about to tell you. And then when we left for England, I didn’t know if I would see him again.” Mama cast a loving glance at her fiancé.

“For the love of Hercules.” Gwen covered her mouth in shock. What an ego she had not to have seen the devotion in the shopkeeper’s eyes as he looked at her mother.

“I apologize if I assumed—” began Mr. Barnaby, searching Mama’s eyes for affirmation.

Her mother leaned over and kissed the shopkeeper on the cheek. “Assume away, my dear.” His face turned the color of a turnip, then they were all talking at once again.

Graham held up a hand. “What in the devil is that?”

A long, mournful howl came from outside. “It’s Harry. He must have heard all the commotion and thinks something is wrong.”

Gwen ran to the door, flung it open, and whistled. The hound came padding up to the door, following her into the parlor and sitting at her feet. “He is my personal guardian.”

“You named him after our father?” asked Graham, seeming confused.

“Our grandfather did,” Gwen explained. “A story for another time.”

“Mama,” asked Gwen, “will you return to Boston?”

Her mother opened her mouth to answer, but Graham cut in. “I thought with his experience in business, and being raised a farmer, he would be a tremendous help here at the estate.”

“How opportune. The steward here is retiring. His Grace will need someone to help him run the estate,” offered Miles. “Would you be interested?”

“Perhaps. My sister is minding the store for now,” said Mr. Barnaby with a smile at Mama. “May we discuss it later?”

Her mother nodded and squeezed his hand.

The men were escorted to their rooms, and Miles stopped Gwen when she tried to follow. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yes?” She closed her eyes at the scent of leather and bergamot. His mouth claimed hers, and she smiled against his lips. “That’s not talking.”

“No, it wasn’t. But I wouldn’t make any sense until that was out of the way,” he said as he kissed her again. “Will you be upset when we marry, and you must come with me to Wickton House and be my viscountess?”

“May I bring Harry?”

“I already anticipated that.”

Gwen gazed up at his amber eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about being a viscountess.”

“You didn’t know anything about being a duke, either. Yet, I’ve never met a finer duplicate duke.” He cupped her cheek and whispered in her ear, “Being Lady Wickton will be much, much easier.”