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“I think you have been offered a gift … but it is so risky, Miss Vivienne.” She twisted her hands. “Perhaps you should send for Miss Tess Hale? She would better protect you with her skills with a blade.”

Vivienne shook her head. “I would not accept Sir Sebastian’s proposition if I did not trust his conduct and word as a gentleman. Besides, even if I possessed skills, a knight of his caliber would be able to evade them.”

“You trust him? We’ve only just met him,” she reminded her. “I do not wish for your desperation to cloud your judgment.”

“I am desperate, which is why I am trusting you to help me decide. I have a feeling about him, and he’s a knight.”

“A handsome one at that,” Charlotte added and packed away the empty teapot.

“Yes, and it is because of his position that I am considering this wild scheme—and that his grandmother’s heart is involved.

I am not certain how you may remove yourself from this current situation without giving her unnecessary heartbreak.

” Charlotte pinched the bridge of her nose.

“This is my first time as a companion. I’ve longed to better my position, but I selfishly fear if I let this occur and it goes awry, I will never be awarded another position after you eventually marry and no longer have a need for a companion. ”

Vivienne grasped Charlotte’s hand. “I have no plans of marrying anytime soon, my dear Charlotte. And if the miraculous happens, you will have a position with me for so long that even if there is a small scandal leading up to said miraculous union, everyone will have long forgotten about it by the time you wish for a new position.”

Charlotte sighed, reaching for the last bite of her pastry and tucking away the plate. “I hope I do not live to regret this moment.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.” She lifted her hand to Sir Sebastian, motioning him over. She grinned up at him. “Sir Sebastian, it appears you have yourself a bride.”

He clapped his hands, rubbing his palms together. “Excellent, because I already told Grandmother I was coming to fetch you and your things.”

“You were confident I would agree?”

“I was confident in your need for my title.” He knelt and handed his dish to Charlotte to pack. “How fast can you ladies be ready for staying a week or two at the manor?”

“I can have Lady Larkby packed in an hour, but before we go rushing off to the manor, I think you two might need to have a chat.”

They turned to Charlotte.

She rose, basket in hand, as she motioned them off the blanket. “You are supposed to have had a whirlwind romance. It would be for the best that you have your stories in tandem and that you learn about each other before your bride meets Mrs. Larkby and the entire plan unravels.”

Vivienne scooped up the front corners of the blanket, with Sir Sebastian taking the opposite ends and helping her fold it—an unexpected act that touched her. She handed it to Charlotte. “What would I do without you?”

“Ruin your reputation all on your own?” She shook her head. “You will be safe enough to take a promenade back to the apartment while I hurry home and see to the packing.”

Sir Sebastian extended his hand to her. “Lady Larkby, shall we explore the labyrinth? I heard it is nearly a mile long.”

“As we are just beginning our acquaintance, let us stroll to the bridge in plain view of all.”

Bash had missed having Evie in his company.

While she had been rather rude at times with him as a highwayman, he knew that was not her true nature—especially when she’d confided in him in the end.

He had caught a glimpse of her heart, and it was lovely.

He would have to sift his motives for helping her—among the guilt, pressure, and excitement at the prospect of taking her to Lark Manor, he also had a sense of obligation … and interest.

She paused on the bridge, leaning over the rail to watch a couple in a rowboat glide underneath as thunder rumbled overhead. “Sir Sebastian, I do not know quite how to transition to such an intimate topic that I feel needs addressing, so I simply shall begin.”

That brought him up. What intimate topic was she considering? At her all-encompassing blush, he swallowed. Ah, that. He ceased holding her arm and leaned on the railing to join her in watching the boats. “I shall reiterate that I am a nobleman and a God-fearing man. I would never—”

She held up her hand, her pretty cheeks flaming even deeper. “ That is not what I was going to ask. I wished to know how we fell in love.”

“Fell in love?” His heart thudded in his chest, thinking of their time together on the highway—of her kiss that had awakened his heart. He hadn’t considered himself in love, but the all-consuming thoughts of this woman echoed the name that was forever etched on his soul.

“I have several ideas, of course, but would like to seek your counsel to see if they would match your true character, or if to make this believable, to take you out of character because you are besotted with me.”

He grinned in sheer relief to see her shoulders easing. “Pray, how did we meet?”

She steepled her fingertips, drumming them against one another. “I suppose it is rather devious to take pleasure in creating such a tale, but it is what I do, so forgive me. You and I met on the road to Bath.”

He stopped short. Did she recognize him? “W-what? How could that be? I only just arrived to Bath, and you’ve—”

She rolled her eyes. “This is a fictionalized history. Surely you cannot have a problem with it already?”

He scrambled to explain his odd reaction. “What I meant is, we should have met sooner, perhaps in a ballroom in London?”

Her eyes brightened. “Excellent. There’s the spirit, Sir Sebastian. Yes, a ball in London would be just the place. We danced thrice, causing all sorts of talk of your affections. I left for my home in Bath, and you followed me, only to come upon me being taken by a handsome highwayman.”

He swallowed a grin. “Handsome? Not a rogue with mottled teeth and bad breath? Wouldn’t that be more believable?”

“But not so much fun to talk about. I picture him as a devil-may-care fellow with flowing locks that shimmer like gold in the sunlight.” She looked off into the distance, as if imagining Bash, the highwayman.

“Perhaps it aroused a fierce protectiveness in you, as well as jealousy, but only a hint of jealousy, as a jealous man would be tiresome to deal with day in and day out. That jealousy awoke you to the depth of your devotion for me though.”

“Handsome he will be, then.” Bash gently grasped her hand and tugged her down the bridge, trying not to be too pleased with the fact that she had considered him handsome and obviously had been thinking on him.

He had been thinking of her hourly. He looked down upon her as they strolled through the pleasure gardens.

How could he not? She was positively charming.

And now, to have her on his arm, pretending to be his wife?

It was nearly too much. He waited for the usual sensation of needing to bolt back to his position in London, but only a deep contentment settled.

He was drawn to this fiercely independent young woman who broke away from the conventional socialite in so many ways.

An arrangement of convenience should not be this amusing.

“What happens next in our journey to matrimony?”

“You fight the highwayman and rescue me, winning my heart and my hand. We, of course, must have courted for at least a fortnight, and we wed over the anvil.”

He nodded to her bare finger. “We had best stop at the jewelers and find you a ring.”

“Such a thing is not necessary.” She dipped her head.

He halted her, taking both her hands in his. “A token is expected, and as a thank-you, you may keep it.”

Evie gasped. “I couldn’t possibly. Such a gift—”

“If you are to hold my title, as per our deal, you should indeed keep it as proof of your claim. There is a jewelers only a few minutes out of our way on the walk back to your terrace home.” At the thunder crackling, he gritted his teeth. “Or perhaps I should hire us a coach?”

“I love being out of doors before a rain. Though, it does tend to make my hair as wild as it was in my girlhood.”

He would like to see her hair wild again. “Shall we walk?”

She nodded and allowed him to guide her out of the park toward Great Pulteney Street.

The amble to the jewelers on Milsom Street was filled with snippets of information passed between them as a fine mist began to fall, and he found himself needing to be careful not to show how much he already knew about her.

He held the door for her as they entered the jewelers. Her eyes widened at the selection, but her gaze was at once drawn to a small display of citrines, even though she kept bringing her observation back to the more sensible silver pieces in the corner.

The rail-thin man behind the counter inclined his head to them, eyeing Evie’s wild curls. “May I be of service?”

Bash patted Evie’s hand. “I am in need of a ring for my lovely wife.”

“We have some pieces in a simple design that might interest you.” He reached for a collection of gold bands.

Bash lifted his hand. “I was thinking something with citrines.”

She twirled around to gape at him. “Truly?”

He caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss atop it, her eyes widening at the gesture, but she schooled her mien. “For a lady of golden locks and a heart of gold.”

The bell over the door jingled once more, and a buxom woman in a scarlet pelisse strode inside.

Evie jerked her hand back, her cheeks blossoming. “Oh no. Oh no,” she muttered.

“Whatever is—”

“My dear Miss Poppy?” The woman approached Evie, her arms open, and pulled her into an embrace.

“I’d recognize those wiry golden curls anywhere.

You never were able to tame them in your childhood, and now I see they have grown even more unruly.

I didn’t think that was possible.” She held her at arm’s length, smiling.

“Your features are so manly still that I knew you were Mr. Poppy’s daughter.

At least your sense of fashion has improved to bring out your feminine graces.

” She released an energetic giggle, looking to Bash.

“I cannot tell you how many times I caught this girl in nature-stained, torn dresses, driving her pony cart pell-mell across the green—such a wild little thing without a mother to guide her.”

He instantly disliked the woman. Evie was all grace and beauty. While she might possess her father’s likeness, a fact he would never know, she was all womanly curves. As for the driving, he was eager to witness her prowess.

“Mrs. Zander. How wonderful to see you after so many years. You have not changed a bit.” Evie’s voice and smile were strained.

“Such flattery will not distract me from the striking gentleman kissing your hand for all to see.” She eyed the citrine the jeweler had in his hand. “And a gem being selected? Do I hear wedding bells?”

Evie sent Bash a look, begging him for help.

He swept her hand into his, kissing it once more. She jerked out of his touch. He had misread the situation—at least she did not wipe the back of her hand on her skirts. He bowed to Mrs. Zander. “Indeed, the wedding bells have long since sounded. I am Sir Sebastian Larkby.”

“A knight? My my, you have done well in the world, Lady Larkby.” Her eyes brightened, recognition widening her impossibly broad smile.

“Why, you couldn’t be the famed authoress?

How long have you two been married if the authoress has been publishing these three years and you are just now buying a jewel? ”

“It is an anniversary jewel,” he supplied, even as he felt Evie squirm under the lies, or perhaps because of the fact that Mrs. Zander knew her as Vivienne Poppy and word might very well get back to her stepbrother.

This truly was getting out of control. He had not taken into account that Evie might still have friends in Bath from her childhood.

The fictional romance would have to be adjusted to reflect the timeline.

Perhaps they could say it was a secret marriage?

He gritted his teeth. That does not seem scandalous in the least. And as for the stepbrother, one dilemma at a time.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have had my eye on that very gem. The jeweler can attest to my seeing it yesterday, and I did not have enough on my person to purchase it. Today I do.” She jingled her reticule, giggling.

“You do understand, don’t you, dear? Citrines are so rare, especially one with such vivacious clarity.

” She moved to cut before them and held her hand out for the jewel.

“I’m afraid that I do not agree. My wife is quite partial to citrines, and not only do we wish for the ring, but the matching necklace and eardrops as well.”

Evie seized his arm. “Dearest, I had no idea you were going to purchase the set.” She lowered her voice. “The surround is gold filigree. It is too costly.”

“It was going to be a surprise for you.” He lifted his purse and paid the jeweler. “Shall you wear them out, my love?”

“In broad daylight? How vulgar.” Mrs. Zander tsked, her cheeks puffing at being bested.

“It is permissible to be a little vulgar on one’s anniversary.

” He motioned for Evie to come closer. He pulled the sash of her bonnet and removed her silk-lined piece.

He set the eardrops in place, his fingers brushing her neck as he did so.

He fixed the necklace, and at last, he lifted the ring.

She stared up at him, her full lashes wide, and he had the urge to kiss her then and there as he slid the ring on her finger.

It is an act, man! Remember she is acting, as you are.

He was a fool to spend so much on jewels, but at this moment he considered it the soundest investment to be the reason behind her smile.