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T hey survived the concert, though Thea thought it was a close thing. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to hear Piano Concerto No.2 without wincing ever again.

Eventually the night grew to a close and they were back in the carriage on their way home.

“Well, the dinner was very good,” Mrs. Winters said. Even in the dark she could see Shay smiling.

“That is very good of you to speak of the things that were pleasant about the evening as opposed to mocking the musical talents of our hosts,” Thea said as her lip twitched in a grin.

“I hope you’re not referring to me, Miss Sutton for I remember hearing mockery coming from your lips as well,” Shay defended.

“Dear me, but there is not a good thing I can think to say of their efforts except that it is over,” Mrs. Winters said, casting them all into a fit of laughter.

They arrived at the cottage and Mrs. Winters was helped down first.

“I thank you for allowing me to stay the night so I might have some time with dear Frannie,” the woman said. She paused and looked up at the dark sky. “It would be a lovely evening for a walk in the gardens,” the woman hinted. “Ye wouldn’t want to miss such an opportunity.”

“Would you care for a stroll?” Lord Flemming asked while holding out his arm for her yet again. She knew what she would feel when she slipped her hand along his. Heat and hard muscles. She’d noticed it earlier in the evening when he’d escorted her to their seats in the music room.

Despite them both wearing gloves, and her being prepared, a soft breath escaped her lips when they touched. They walked on for a bit in silence but then Shay— Lord Flemming —spoke.

“I will ask you, as you are wordsmith, is there such a term that would mean the opposite of a chaperone, for if so, that is what I would call Mrs. Winters.”

Thea laughed at his joke and then put a finger to her chin to show she was seriously contemplating his question.

“I’m not sure there’s an antonym for chaperone but I have some words that might better serve Mrs. Winters. Instigator, meddler, troublemaker…”

“She wasn’t wrong though, it is a beautiful evening. Would you care for a turn about the gardens, there was something else I wished to speak to you about.”

Oh dear. She was instantly nervous. Did he want her to leave? Perhaps her presence was keeping him from the lifestyle he preferred. Maybe he didn’t want to be judged by a messy spinster. She’d yet to apologize to him for her rudeness the other day.

“Very well, I would enjoy some activity after having sat about all evening.”

Should she have used the word activity? What other activities could he think she was interested in? Kissing? She found she wouldn’t be opposed to such a thing. Not with Shay. But that would not be proper. Still…

“I fear I upset you the other day when we spoke of Flint and I told you I’d attended games at his establishment,” he said, jumping right into the delicate topic she’d been avoiding.

She shook her head.

“Please, it is I who should apologize. I have no right to judge. I’m no one to you.”

“I would like to think you a friend, Thea. And I can see how, after spending time with your brother, what I said might have caused you to think I have similar vices as Stephen. But I promise you, that is not the case. I have gambled on many occasions, as most men of the ton . It is something usually done for fun or comradery.”

“Unless it grows like a poisonous vine squeezing the life out of a person so slowly they don’t even notice.” She couldn’t hold in her bitterness.

“Aye. But I have not allowed that to happen and I won’t. In fact, the last time I was in such a place, I only watched. I didn’t even play.”

She watched him closely to see if he was lying. She was always able to tell when Stephen lied to her. More recently, she only needed to hear him speak to know he was lying for it was something he did all the time. Constant promises that he was on the verge of getting them out of the situation he’d gotten them into.

Lord Flemming was either better at lying or he was telling the truth. Or it could be that the moon was not quite bright enough for her to see him clearly. Whichever the reason, her answer was still the same.

“I’m not foolish enough to think all men fall into ruin who visit a gaming establishment. Most of London would have gone to waste by now if it were so. And it is hardly fair of me to charge you for another man’s crimes. I’m no one to judge you for whatever you choose to do anyway. Please except my apologies for my shrewish behavior.”

He shook his head and paused their walking.

“I will not accept your apology, because it is unwarranted. You have been wounded, and a smart woman would see herself free of getting involved in such things again. I don’t blame you. And if you do not yet trust me, I hope you will when you see I do not gamble when we attend a ball in three nights time.”

She blinked at him. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I couldn’t possibly attend. I will accept your word.”

“It wouldn’t do for me to show up at a ball without my fiancée.”

She could no longer see his face in the shadows, but she knew well enough he was smiling.

“I have no gown.”

“But the modiste has your measurements, I will send tomorrow for a gown to be sent. What color would you prefer?” he asked.

“I—I shouldn’t. I have so much work to do.”

“It occurred to me this evening that since you never had a proper come out that you may have never attended a ball.”

“That is not true. I have.”

“You’ve dressed in a pretty gown, danced with flock of gentleman, and drank watered down lemonade?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“What did you wear?” he pressed.

“A maid’s dress,” she relented. “But I did have a bit of lemonade,” she rushed to add.

“Thea did you attend a ball as a maid to gather research for a book?”

“Perhaps.” She made to look away but his finger rested softly on her chin leading her face gently back to him. “Yes.”

“Will you go to the ball with me for the sole purpose of having fun?”

“I really should finish my book…” she offered an excuse.

“I’ve told you, you are welcome to stay as long as needed. Besides, I would prefer you not rush. I do not want to think I’m responsible for Theordore Stonecliff putting out an inferior novel.”

“Very well,” she said because she found she wanted to go.

“Please don’t feel pressured.”

She smacked his arm. “You all but forced me into it.”

He laughed. “I did not.” When his laughter faded, he sighed. “I may and I shouldn’t have. I’d much rather have you on my arm because you want to be there. If you truly don’t want to go, I will not accept the invitation. It’s not like tonight where I was trying to keep a good relationship with the host while protecting myself from his herd of tone-deaf offspring. I care nothing for Lord and Lady Pendleton one way or the other.”

He had rather backed her into a corner. She considered how she might answer as they began walking again.

“I believe I would like to go,” she admitted. And then just to make sure she was standing on stable ground she added. “It will be useful to have more thorough research.”

*

She was a clever one, Shay thought as he turned to walk them back to the cottage. He’d been a right ogre to push this on her, and she’d deftly sidestepped the trap he’d so delicately set.

In truth, he’d not had any plans in going until that moment when he’d asked. He’d barely remembered which invitations he’d received and recalled Lord and Lady Pendleton had been near the top of the pile.

And it was true that it would protect their ruse to be seen by Lord and Lady Pendleton. Lady Pendleton would see that everyone in Nairnshire would know Shay was off the market. But that wasn’t the real reason he’d asked.

He wouldn’t allow himself to pick at his true motives.

“I will need to work diligently the next few days to make sure I don’t lose any writing time,” she said.

“Are you asking me to leave you alone while you write?”

“No. You are welcome to sleep on my settee if you wish.” He heard rather than saw the smile as she jested.

“I thank you for your hospitality.” He might have said something about it not being her settee but he wouldn’t risk her mistaking his joke and thinking to leave sooner than planned. He was not so dim-witted as to say something that would jostle their fragile relationship.

When they arrived at the cottage, Shay wished he might ask to stay for a drink, but it was late and he’d prevailed on her enough the last two days and would so again for the ball.

“I wish you a good night, my lady.”

“And to you as well, my lord. I hope a restful sleep finds you this evening.”

He nodded a bow at her door and walked back to the castle thinking about how peaceful it was to be with her.

Despite her wishes for a good sleep, Shay woke sweating and panting from a night terror only hours later. Rather than lie there desperately grasping for sleep to return, he got up and went to the library, hoping to find a book that would offer another chance.

From the window he’d stood at weeks before when he’d noticed the plume of smoke that led him to her, he noticed a light coming from the window of the drawing room.

She was awake as well it seemed. Had she had a bad dream, or was she restless with words that needed to escape her soul through her quill?

When she explained to him how it felt, her urge to write, he wanted to tell her it sounded not so unlike the need a person feels when they lust for drink or even gambling. He didn’t want her to compare her gift with her brother’s weaknesses, so he’d kept the comparison to himself.

He watched the light flicker in the window and wondered what it might be like to be down there where he could walk in and ask her what she was writing. Or to steal silent glances at her while he lay on the settee. He slept so much better down there with her nearby. Better than he had in so many years. Like before, he wouldn’t allow himself to consider too deeply why that may be.

It was a dangerous path indeed.