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S leep completely eluded Belinda. All she could think of was Piers’s face when he’d left the room.

Mere inches had separated them physically—a vast chasm separated them emotionally.

What had she said that had made him turn away, looking like a faithful hound that had been unjustly whipped?

Was it that quip about him being a rake?

As far as she knew, that was how he wanted to appear, didn’t he?

Was it not an attempt to keep any women interested in genuine commitment at arm’s length, so he could resolve the situation with Charlotte Lavoisier?

The other thing keeping her awake was anxiety about something completely different.

Tonight, more than at any other time during their acquaintance, she’d been aware of him as a man.

All the gloss of high Society was gone, leaving behind the physical being that was Piers Darvill.

And what a specimen of masculinity! His shirt had done little to conceal the muscles beneath, and the absence of a cravat had revealed the sturdy column of his neck, and drawn the eye to the chiseled outline of his jaw.

These attributes combined to proclaim him an exceedingly fine figure of a man, whose presence could still affect those he was with even when stripped down to the bare minimum of clothing.

No decent lady should have noticed these things. No well-bred young woman should have entertained the thoughts that she had. Only a woman of ill repute would have entertained the surge of physical longing she’d experienced in his arms.

How easy it would have been to return that kiss!

But she would have revealed her feelings, and could not be certain of his reaction.

Even if he had returned the passion she felt, she could not have trusted it to be real.

It was that fact, and that alone, that had prevented her from offering herself to him.

He would never know the struggles she’d endured to appear unmoved by his touch and the pressure of his mouth on hers.

The urge to tiptoe out of bed and slip into his room was almost overwhelming. She knew he must be right next to her because she’d heard the closing of his door, the bumping and banging of furniture, and the creak of bed-boards when he’d thrown himself down on his mattress.

Had she ever felt such an all-consuming need for William Coyle?

No, indeed not. The effort had come from him, and she’d gone along with it because she loved him with every inch of her being—or thought she did.

She’d never flirted with him, never tried to seduce him—it had all been the other way around.

But tonight, she had so needed Piers Darvill to want her in the same way that William had. And that was wrong. Wasn’t it?

Instead of slipping into Piers’s room to see if he would make love to her, what she should be doing was apologizing for whatever it was that had caused such a pained expression on his handsome face.

She hadn’t understood that men could be hurt in the same way that women could.

Mostly, she assumed, they tried to conceal such feelings, considering them a sign of weakness.

Men were idiots! Having feelings was not a sign of weakness at all, but a sign of strength!

Women had a great deal to teach their menfolk.

But Piers had already loved, had lost, had suffered, but he’d still succeeded in life.

He was the most admirable man she’d ever met.

Bother it! Was she starting to like him, as well as crave his touch?

This was a dangerous situation to be in; despite having agreed to a fake engagement, she was already seeing the pitfalls.

How could she bear to be around him, both in public and in private, and act the besotted fiancée without tormenting herself?

It seemed as if her mind were going round and round in circles. Nothing had been resolved when the grey light of dawn stole through the drapes, and the various Buckleigh cockerels began their strident dawn chorus.

There were sounds from the room next door. Piers must be awake. Good! She could catch him at breakfast and tell him the whole idea of a false betrothal was folly, and they must tell their respective relatives the truth.

After a brief, chill wash, she flung on her gown, bandaged her ankle over her stocking, and attempted to bring some order to her hair. Then she limped down the passageway toward the dining room, where little Alice was already pottering about, setting out cutlery and condiments.

There he was, sitting at a table, picking at a dish of eggs and ham, his cravat askew and his dark hair adorably tousled. He’d been shaved, and he had his overcoat and boots on as if he was in a hurry to go out.

Not caring if it might be improper, she flopped down on the other side of the table and stretched the bad ankle out underneath it. He looked at her from under hooded eyelids, his face expressionless.

Very well. The apology needed to come first; reneging on their agreement could wait for the moment. If only she could be sure what she was apologizing for.

“Good morning, Belinda.” There was no warmth in his voice.

“Good morning, Piers. I’m so glad I managed to catch you. I need to tell you—”

Before she could get out another word, Alice reappeared with a sealed letter in her hand.

“Oh, I am so sorry, miss. This came late yesterday, and what with all the bother about your ankle, and the extra guest to look after—begging your pardon, sir—I forgot to give it to you. I do hope it’s not important. ”

The girl looked so crestfallen, that Belinda waved her away, saying, “Don’t worry about it, Alice. These things happen.”

“What can I get you to eat, miss?”

“Just a little bread and marmalade, I think, Alice.” She didn’t have much appetite. And now, her attention was divided between the man and the missive. She didn’t have the concentration to eat at the same time.

Piers gestured with his fork. “Aren’t you going to open your letter?”

She blinked at him, but he appeared to have lost interest in her already. It was very difficult to apologize to someone who wouldn’t meet one’s eyes.

“It’s the earl’s seal. It must be from Araminta—news from London!”

There was no response from Piers, so she snapped open the seal, and unfolded the letter.

A quick scan revealed that her sister’s news was of great consequence.

“Oh! Araminta has had her baby! It’s a boy, whom they mean to call Archie. Although she doesn’t ask me directly, I think she is very keen that I should go to her as soon as possible.”

Nothing else seemed important now—she must leave immediately. Only... that would leave Piers to say whatever he wanted to the Tragos. Was it wise to leave him to deal with their deceit alone?

He was gazing at her now, an unfathomable expression in his eyes.

“I thought you wanted to avoid becoming a maiden aunt to your sister’s children.

Was that not the whole reason for your blundering escapades?

Yet here you are, ready to rush to her side when she hasn’t even asked you to.

Tell me, Belinda, do you ever stick to the decisions you’ve made? ”

“I don’t know what you mean by that. But it doesn’t matter now—I need to find out if I can get a place on the coach today. But I still have to get from here to Tavistock—oh, bother it! Someone will have to take me there in a wheelbarrow with this wretched foot of mine!”

She was relieved to see Piers’s mouth twitch. Then he became deadly serious again, and steepled his fingers, looking at her consideringly.

“I am probably going to regret this, but I had planned to return to London myself this morning. Rather than have you hobbling around and fretting, I’ll take you with me.

It will, of course, cement the story that we are betrothed, but that is the price we must pay.

As you said, it shouldn’t be difficult to appear to fall out of love with one another when the time is suitable. ”

Belinda stared at him. He was not in a good mood today—what had happened to the man who had charmed and delighted her last night?

“I know I shouldn’t be direct—Araminta always chides me for it—but I’ve offended you. I’m not so wound up in my own affairs that I cannot see it. Please tell me what I can do to make amends.”

Piers’s eyebrows rose. “A generous offer, my dear. But I think perhaps we had better talk about it in private. Walls have ears. Now—get yourself a bite to eat and I will ride across to Tavistock and hire an equipage for us. You can be packing your things in the meantime. There’s no need to hurry, as I shall have to go to the parsonage first to say my farewells and return the pony cart. ”

With that, Piers stood, shook out his napkin, gave her the briefest of bows, and left the dining room.

Well—she supposed it was very good of him to take her to London, but if he was going to look like a thunderstorm the entire journey, she wasn’t certain she wanted to go.

No—that was the old Belinda talking. The new Belinda, the grown-up Belinda, did not fall to pieces or run away at every obstacle.

She’d taken a few wrong turns, certainly, but her life was not a complete disaster.

And there was hope that it would not become one.

She would face up to Piers, and they would have an open and honest conversation in the carriage on the way to Forty Court.

Whether she would admit to having been hurt by his coolness, she was not yet certain.

Although she was desperate to trust him, she wasn’t sure what his behavior meant.

And she wasn’t sure if she could trust herself either since she’d discovered his powerful allure.

There was no time to worry about anything.

One thing about Piers Darvill she could trust was his word.

If he said he was going to get her to Forty Court, then he would.

By the time they arrived, they would be in complete harmony and would have a clever plan in place to retain the fake engagement while it benefited them both and abandon it when it was no longer necessary.

But there was one thing she had to do. That was to tell Minty the truth about the Lyon’s Den.

Only once she’d explained the reasons for her folly and her deceit would she begin to assuage the guilt she carried.

And whether Piers liked it or not, she must tell Minty about the fake engagement as well, and the circumstances under which it had been considered the best course of action.

She pushed away her breakfast uneaten. Her sister would no doubt think that Belinda getting into trouble with a gentleman was a case of history repeating itself.

Oh! Now that she came to look at it in perspective, she had made a terrible mess of things.

She could only hope that Minty would find it in her heart to forgive her.

And that Piers Darvill wouldn’t do—or say—anything to foil her plan.