She wanted to hold him, to comfort that child. All she could do was drag the conversation into safer waters.

"And now you're the Peasant Earl. Such a shame that Lord Stevenhope has stolen sweet Iphigenia from you."

"A match made in heaven. He can struggle for a rhyme for Iphigenia, and she will enjoy being enversed in any way at all."

"And I am free of him, thank heavens."

"Perhaps as your favored suitor, I should compose verses about you."

She turned on him. "Don't you dare!"

"Unwise, unwise," he said. "I shall attempt a sonnet."

"I'll fine you a kiss for every line." Then she realized how that sounded. "d.a.m.nation."

"Lucy!" But he was laughing now.

It felt like a triumph to make him laugh.

"I've spent much time in the world of rough men. Sometimes my tongue slips."

"Delightful."

She frowned at him. "I meant that I will reduce the kisses I owe you, one for each line."

"You're a harsh woman, Lucy Potter."

"Best you know that, David. . . . What's your surname?"

He shrugged. "Wyvern, in proper usage. But I was David Kerslake for most of my life. David Somerford now, but I refused to deny Uncle Nathaniel and Aunt Miriam, so I'm Kerslake-Somerford."

"How very complicated your situation is."

"You don't know the half of it."

There was meaning in that wry comment but she sensed that pursuing it would take them into deeper waters.

By accident or purpose they'd walked away from where Hannah sat patiently waiting, representing normality and sanity-safe harbor. Lucy knew she should go there, but continued to move away. If she were to get anywhere with this man, she must untangle some of his mysteries.

That thought reminded her of the straightforward puzzle her father had pointed to. "Did your aunt and uncle not know that you were the earl's legitimate son?"

"No one did."

"Except your mother and the earl."

"So it would seem. It's not so unusual."

"For a t.i.tled father to ignore his son and heir, no matter how estranged from his wife?"

"What are you probing for? All the sordid details?"

Shields had raised, and horns blared a warning. Very interesting.

"My father remarked on how odd your situation is, that's all."

"So I have him poking around in my affairs, too. Does he have spies watching you?"

"Of course not," Lucy said, but she suddenly wanted to look around, to see if anyone was observing them. It was just the sort of thing her father might do if he had any suspicion that she was being foolish. She didn't see anyone suspicious now, but she'd be alert, and if she discovered such a thing, she'd put a stop to it.

"He's always kept track of events at all levels," she said. "One never knows when something will turn the world upside down. Yet vigilance," she added with a sigh, "didn't prevent my mother's death. That changed everything."

She wondered if she'd regret revealing that.

"As my life changed when I became earl."

"You'd rather it not have happened?"

She expected a quick yes or no, but he turned them back toward Hannah, pondering it.

"New states become normal in time. Like shoes. They can feel odd when new, and perhaps even pinch a little, but then we no longer notice them. There are aspects to being earl that still pinch, but others that I've come to accept. I can't imagine returning to the way things were. Which is just as well as it's impossible."

"No other heir to emerge from the woodwork?"

"Not unless there's an even weirder twist than the one that brought me here."

They walked on and she thought about his words.

"I found coming to the west end odd, but now it's become normal. When I was back in the City some aspects pinched a little. Some people get to wear comfortable shoes all their lives."

"Very few, I suspect. And some poor souls never walk in comfort at all."

They were close to Hannah now, though the sensible maid was staring at the Serpentine as if it were fascinating.

"You deserve comfort all your life," he said.

"So do you. Anyone can try for a comfortable future," she said, silently urging him to take her lead, to talk about their futures. Their future, together.

"Perhaps it's simply a matter of choosing the wise path," he said, raising her hand to kiss it. Anyone watching would see it as a courting gesture, but it seemed like farewell.

She tightened her fingers on his. "Will we meet here tomorrow?"

"I come from a land of cliffs and mists, far from your familiar territory. Are you sure you want to risk living there? Be honest."

Lucy wanted to say yes, but above all they must be honest. "I don't know. But I don't release you from our bargain."

"So be it." He bowed and walked away.

Lucy joined Hannah and they set off back to Lanchester Street.

Why hadn't she said yes? That had been close to the proposal she wanted. Why had she hesitated?

Perhaps she was afraid of such a drastic change. Perhaps a woman could love a man to desperation but still not be able to face moving to his world.

David returned to Susan's house, hoping to avoid his perceptive sister, but she must have been watching for him.

"Where have you been?"

"Do I have to account to you for all my movements?"

"David."

"Very well. I was keeping to our agreement. I had a tryst with Miss Potter in Hyde Park."

"That's wonderful!"

"Only to an extent. Can you truly imagine her in Crag Wyvern?"

"I find it hard to imagine any sane person in Crag Wyvern."

"Precisely."

"But you have to marry someone, and you should marry someone you love."

There was a question in that. "Yes, I love her, but perhaps that's why I shouldn't marry her. Should I carry Persephone off into the underworld?"

"When you talk like that, I know you're demented."

"Very well, look at it this way. I'm sure Mel wanted to raise us as his children. He was a kind and loving man. Our mother wouldn't have ruled him on that. He gave us up so we'd have a better life. That's what love does. Can you deny it was for the best?"

"No," she said, frowning. "But . . ."

"Can you see Miss Potter in Crag Wyvern?" he asked again.

She sighed. "No. In the manor house, perhaps, but not in the Crag. What are you going to do?"

"I made a commitment to her and to you, and I'll keep to it. I can't resist a few more days with her. But unless I can truly persuade myself she can be happy in my life, I'll set her free."

"And if she doesn't want to be free?"

"I'll turn ruthless. I believe I've learned how."

Chapter 19.

Lady Ludlow's ball was a crush, but to an unpleasant degree. It was packed because the house was too small and it presented no opportunity for secret trysts. Wyvern-David-was present and they danced, but Lucy longed for another private moment. She was sure if they could talk more about their situation, they could find a way.

The supper room was disastrously crowded, and Lucy found herself with Wyvern, the Amleighs, and some others out in the small garden, sitting on the gra.s.s on sheets commandeered from harried servants, enjoying a miscellany of food and drink foraged by the gentlemen.

The b.a.l.l.s were there, and Lucy was surprised to see Sir Stephen at ease on the ground. So, too, urbane Lord Charrington and the n.o.ble Marquess of Arden, though both their wives seemed more suited to the simple setting, even in silk and jewels. The other couples were the Delaneys, and an Irish couple, the Cavanaghs.

It was an odd collection of people and yet the talk flowed easily and they seemed old friends, and at least Lucy was seated at David's side, as if by right.

She leaned close to David. "What's the connection here?"

"Guess."

Sipping wine, she considered. "Ducal and commoner. English and Irish. Politics and horse breeding. Laura Ball was a widow, and so was Lady Charrington, but surely Mrs. Cavanagh is too young."

"You're looking like a hawk with prey in sight," he said.

"I like to solve puzzles."

"Like your father."

"It's part of clever business."

"But sometimes better avoided."

She frowned at him. "There's a dangerous secret here?" But then she remembered that he was full of them. "Tell me a secret," she said.

"They're all members of the Company of Rogues."

The words made no sense. "I mean one of your secrets."

"What point to a secret once it's revealed?"

"You don't believe in honesty in marriage?"

"We're not married."

She was glad lamplight hid her blush. "I asked a theoretical question."

"Then, theoretically, honesty is desirable. But trust and kindness are more important."

"How can there be trust without honesty?"

"The trust to accept that the other keeps secrets for a good reason?"

What secrets did he have that must be hidden, even from a wife?