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Z oe tried not to fiddle with her purse as she waited in the front room of the apothecary shop.

A lady wasn’t supposed to show nerves, but she was bubbling with anxiety.

Her father was getting worse, his cough loud enough to be heard in her bedroom.

The London air was bad for him, and she feared he wouldn’t be strong enough to dance with her at her come-out ball.

That wasn’t her real fear, but the thought of him dying was so scary, she flinched away from the idea even in her thoughts.

Instead, she focused on this Season, her come-out ball, and the need to get the duke to propose.

Which was why she was at My Lady’s Apothecary this afternoon.

Someone of note was in the back room, so she had to wait for her private discussion with Madame Ilie.

She stood in the corner fussing with her gloves while the dark haired shopgirl offered her tea.

She demurred. Her stomach was too upset.

Her maid, however, appeared grateful for the cup and was now happily settled in the corner drinking, as if her mistress weren’t in a knot of anxiety.

Kynthea would know how to settle her stomach, Zoe thought ruefully.

But Kynthea was right now suffering every sly word and nasty innuendo the haut ton could fling at her.

No less than two dozen people had come calling this afternoon, all under the guise of deep concern for her mother’s health and Zoe’s welfare.

They were gossipmongers, every one of them, trying to stir up trouble for their own amusement. And Zoe told them so, in no uncertain terms. Which helped not at all.

Naturally, Kynthea had more poise. She listened, she apologized for her outrageous behavior, and she served tea.

It helped that the duke sat right next to her, appearing the picture of propriety in his austere black coat and snowy linen shirt.

He was a handsome man, she had to admit, in a stiffly correct sort of way.

Not a hair nor a cravat fold out of place.

Zoe could appreciate the effect of it even if she couldn’t emulate it.

She liked him and thought they could be friends, if she weren’t trying desperately to get him to fall in love with her.

Fortunately, he had convinced her father not to sack Kynthea, but it was a touchy matter.

Neither parent was pleased that the woman they’d brought into their home had become an object of gossip.

And even Zoe could see how this whole thing was weighing on her father.

He had coughed several times during his private discussion with the duke in their library.

She’d been trying to eavesdrop upon the conversation but could only hear her father’s hacking cough.

And her mother had shredded a handkerchief while they both waited for the decision.

This whole matter had to get resolved quickly—for everyone’s sake—which is why she had come back for more love potion. She wasn’t doing any good sitting in fury in the drawing room with all those biddies. So she had left to do the only thing that might make things right.

She needed more love potion to make the duke marry her. She would manage his stables, she’d hire Kynthea as her companion, and her parents could rest easy. All would be well.

That was her plan. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to get the duke to divulge any answers for the questions Madame Ilie had given her.

She’d tried with the easiest of them all.

What would he spend a million pounds on?

Didn’t everyone wonder what they would do if everything suddenly became easy?

But he was either so old or so rich that the question meant nothing to him.

Then a miracle happened. It was as if God Himself had arranged it just to help her. Lord Nathaniel stepped out of the apothecary’s private room.

“My lord!” she cried, belatedly realizing he looked very serious indeed and perhaps didn’t want to be disturbed.

He started, looked around him with an expression of panic, then finally focused upon her. “Lady Zoe? Whatever are you doing here?”

“I’m getting a powder for my mother. Her joints swell, especially in the mornings, and they have a tea here that helps.” It wasn’t a lie, just not the full truth. “Why are you here?”

“What? Oh, I was picking up a headache powder for a friend of mine. She is too ill to come herself.”

A headache powder wasn’t usually put in a bottle, and Zoe was sharp-eyed enough to see him casually slip one into a pocket.

She wanted to find out—indeed, part of her was burning with curiosity—but she had more important things to ask, especially as he was starting to tip his hat to her order to leave.

“Well, Lady Zoe, I must get on—” he began, but she interrupted him.

“Please, my lord, I would be most grateful if you could help me. I fear I am in great distress.”

“Yes. Miss Petrelli’s situation is dire, but I think Ras has the right solution. At least for the moment.”

She huffed. “A momentary solution is not a permanent one, my lord, which is why I need your help. You’ve known the duke for a long time, haven’t you?”

Lord Nathaniel rocked back on his heel as he looked at her. He kept his expression genial, but she felt the reserve in him. “Yes. We met at school and have been fast friends ever since.”

“Good.” She pulled the folded list of love questions out of her reticule and held them out to him. “Do you know how he would answer any of these questions? They’re important, and I couldn’t work any of them into the conversation the other day. Not so he would answer, that is.”

“Ras is rather private,” he murmured as he began to read.

Then his brows rose in surprise. “I can see why you’d have trouble working these into a conversation.

” He frowned down at the sheet of foolscap and read two of the questions aloud.

“What is the most foolish thing you’ve ever done in your life?

What did you think of me when we first met that you don’t believe now?

” He looked up at her. “He’ll never answer questions like that. ”

Which was exactly her point! “That’s why I need you to answer them for him. You know him best.”

“Lady Zoe, what is this for?”

She bit her lip, desperately trying to come up with a convenient lie.

“Does it have to do with the love potion?”

She winced. “You heard that.”

“It was hard to miss.” He folded up the paper and handed it back to her. “You must know that he will never marry you.”

She sniffed. “He would, if he fell desperately in love with me!”

“And why do you want him anyway? He’s old and proper, like a good duke ought to be.”

“And don’t old men like young wives?”

The man winced. “Not Ras. Not like that.” He folded his arms as he regarded her.

“I do not understand your determination to wed at all, much less him. You are a young woman. You could have several more Seasons until you’re considered on the shelf.

We are one day into your first Season, and yet here you are, determined to wed the one man who will never choose a young wife. ”

It was no business of his why she did what she did. She’d been very logical in her thought process. “Can you not think of how he’d answer even one of these? Perhaps he told you what he thought of me when we first met.”

“He thought what we all did. That you are very young.”

“I’m not that young!” she huffed.

“Lady Zoe—”

“The London air does not agree with my father. He coughed seventeen times this morning in just an hour. Horrible, hacking coughs that are terrible to hear.”

Lord Nathaniel frowned. “I am very sorry to hear that.”

“Mama wears gloves all the time because her knuckles are so swollen. She thinks her hands ugly. She is better in Cornwall where I have a special liniment for horses that works well on her hands. Plus, the water is much cleaner where we live.”

“I shouldn’t doubt that. I fear that London has a deleterious effect on everyone’s health.”

“Exactly. I will not put them through another Season. It will kill my father!” There.

She’d said it, and damned that her eyes were tearing up at the thought of losing her parent.

She knew it was coming, of course. Everyone saw how her father was fading a little more each day.

But the London air had accelerated the process to a distressing degree.

His lordship took her hand and squeezed gently. “Perhaps then, it would be better to leave London altogether. Skip this Season and return next year after all this bruhaha is over. Or does a year seem like too long to wait?”

“It’s not me who insisted on this course, but my mother. She’s afraid she won’t be able to properly launch me when my brother inherits.”

“Is he as bad as all that?”

“What? No. He’s wonderful, but he despises London and has this mad idea about shipbuilding.

His business requires all his time and energy, and he won’t take the time out for my Season.

I’ll be stuck in Cornwall with him for the rest of my life!

” That last part came out more as a wail than true conversation, and she immediately tried to moderate her tone. But it was so hard.

Meanwhile, Lord Nate nodded wisely. “So there’s the crux of it then.”

No, that wasn’t the crux of it. Why didn’t anyone understand?

Her father wanted her wed this year and would not leave until that was accomplished.

“My lord, isn’t there anything that makes you happy beyond reason?

Something that absorbs your every waking moment and even haunts your dreams?

I’m talking about a passion, my lord, that consumes you. ”

He looked startled by the question, his gaze darting around the small shop. There was no one there except the shopgirl and Zoe’s maid. Both were whispering together over their tea, so no one else could hear. But it did make her wonder what drove this man.

“I have one, yes, that I hope to make come true one day. But we were speaking of you—”

“My passion is for horse racing. I know every stable in England. I study the racing sheets the way most girls discuss fashion plates. I have spent my entire life around horses and have more knowledge than even the duke’s stablemaster. Horse racing, my lord. That is my passion.”

“And so you are marrying Ras for his stable?”

“Yes! And because he is old, so he will be too tired to keep up with me. Most men can’t, you know. Not even my brother.”

“Ah.”

“And because old men die sooner. The things I could do with control of his estate! I would make his stable the envy of the world!”

He stared at her with a new kind of respect in his eyes. “I can see you have thought this through.”

“I have thought of little else since my father first spoke of seeing me settled five years ago. He said that as soon as I was old enough, I should look for a husband.”

“But five years ago? You were eleven!”

“Exactly. I know the disposition of every racing horse in England and the marital status of every owner. The duke is my best option.” And lest he feel left out, she smiled as warmly as possible at him.

“Your family had good stock once upon a time. Then your father sold it all to the duke, at a very good price, too. They’re the basis of my attraction to his horses.

They don’t necessarily have the best bones for the job, but your horses were smart. ”

He blinked at her. “That happened when you were a small child. My father sold them to Ras’s father because we couldn’t keep up with the expense.”

She nodded. She knew. Running a stable was enormously costly and Lord Nate’s grandfather had been a gambler and a spendthrift. At least, that was the rumor. If one needed to economize, horses would be the first thing to sell.

“During that time,” she explained, “the former duke ran a spectacular stable. But the current duke has no interest in it. I should like to restore it to its former glory.” She grinned, and her heart lifted for a moment as she imagined what she would do.

“So you see,” she finally said, “why it must be the duke and why it must be now.”

“I do see,” he said, his tone grave.

“So you will help me?” She pressed the sheet of foolscap into his hand. “How would the duke answer these questions?”

He nodded as he took her elbow. “Let us go inside Madame Ilie’s private chamber. We will bring her in and discuss the details of your love potion.”

“We will?” she asked, her heart leaping with joy. “Thank you!”

“It won’t work,” he began, but she cut him off.

“It will work, my lord. Why else would you be here just when I most needed the help?”