Evie was too furious to just stand there after Gareth left. The moment he did, she stormed off in the opposite direction—which happened to be the house.

Tears stung her eyes, and she wondered why she couldn't just crumple to the ground crying and wishing she were dead. After all, she loved him and he'd just broken her heart. Or rather, he should have.

For why did it continue to beat?

She knew he was wrong. Eris. The link between Madame Delphine and Lady Ruth. The code name of their intermediary for selling British secrets to the French. Evangeline Benedict, traitor to the Crown? She almost sputtered with scornful laughter. She couldn't even land a husband, let alone turn the tide of war against England. England won, didn't it?

"I don't want to marry him anyway," she said aloud, for she was too enraged to keep her thoughts silent. She had to rant. She didn't even pause in her tracks as she glowered up at the sky, as if to address the birds, or even the Almighty. "Why would I want to marry someone who thinks I'm a traitor simply because I had a sealed letter in my possession that I've never read? I'm just an innocent courier. That's not the same thing as a messenger, is it?" She finally stopped in her tracks, scowled again at the cloud-dappled sky, and raised her voice. "Is it? Because I know about killing messengers. No one ever says, 'Don't kill me, I'm just the courier.' No, it's always the messenger. The messenger tells the recipient what the message is, and then the recipient kills them because they don't like the message. Do I have the right of it?"

The birds did not answer. Neither, for that matter, did the Almighty. Maybe if she shook her fist at the sky?

Instead, she continued fuming and storming toward the house. "Besides, why would I want to marry a man who attends Cyprian balls? Why should I believe his stated purpose for being there, when he doesn't believe mine? When he assumes I must be a traitor? Who's to say he wouldn't go back after we marry, just for the sport of it?" For it hadn't escaped her notice that most of the men she'd seen at Madame Delphine's that night were married men, to include her own, self-righteous, hypocritical uncle.

Upon reaching the house, she stole up the back staircase to her bedchamber. The others were supposed to believe that she'd taken to her bed with a megrim.

She had one now. No sooner did she throw herself across the bed than someone tapped at the door. "Evie? It's Flora. May I come in?"

As if Evie's heart couldn't sink any further. She was supposed to give that letter to Flora, but Gareth had taken it.

More tapping. "Evie? Lord Kingsley said you had a letter for me from my late sister. I'd like to have it now, if it isn't too much trouble."

Evie lay on her back, staring up at the tester. What would really be too much trouble right now was getting up. Or just moving.

But it wasn't too much trouble for her to say, "Come in."

The door clicked open. "Oh, then you really are here. Lady Ashdown thought you might have run out to the stables to stop Lord Gareth from leaving."

Evie thought the better of confirming that. "Lord Gareth has the letter."

Flora threw the door shut behind her, not a good sign. Still, Evie saw no point in sitting up. "How? You didn't give it to him, did you?"

Her gaze still fixed on the tester, Evie said, "No, he took it. Stole it, you might say, since it was addressed to Eris and not him. Is that supposed to be some family pet name of yours?" Evie hoped with all her aching heart that was the case, and that it wasn't some ludicrous code name for a treasonous spy.

"Never mind that. How did he steal it from you?" Flora loomed over the bedside. She might have cast a menacing shadow had she brought a candle with her. By now it was early evening and the nearby window, facing east, did nothing to ease the gloom creeping over the bedchamber.

"He came in here and he took it." All the pertinent information was there, even if it was missing a huge and very interesting chunk in the middle.

He came in here...where I willingly gave him my body, my heart, and my soul...and...then I left him alone in here to go downstairs because I thought Ross and Tabitha had arrived, when in fact it was only you and Cousin Gerald. And that must have been when...he took it.

"Did you happen to open it and read it?"

"Why would I do that, Flora? It's private correspondence from your sister to you. It's the last thing she ever communicated to you. It's of no benefit to me." Evie wasn't about to tell her that Gareth believed it to be some top secret document, the possession of which might get her hanged for treason. No, that was of no benefit to Evie at all. "For that reason alone, I had every intention of placing it in your hand whenever I happened to see you again."

Flora stared at her for a long moment. "So Lord Gareth Armstrong has it now? That's what he's taking to Lord Ethan Lovell?"

"So you heard him say down in the drawing room an hour ago now."

To Evie's surprise, Flora smiled. And then she tittered. "Well! Won't he feel like a fool when Ethan opens it and discovers it's just another letter from my sister to me!"

"You can't even begin to imagine how fervently I pray that's the case."

Flora spun away from the bed and headed for the door. "Will you be coming down for dinner, then?"

Evie sighed as the tears finally rushed to her eyes. "No. Please give my regrets to Lady Ashdown."

"As you wish." Flora flew out of the bedchamber without even closing the door behind her.

Evie didn't feel like getting up to close it. Instead she rolled over onto the very spot where Gareth made love to her, and cried herself to sleep.

She awoke much earlier the next day. Someone had thoughtfully closed her bedchamber door without disturbing her. After getting dressed, she ventured downstairs to the dining room. Though she hadn't eaten since late yesterday morning, she still had no great appetite. Perhaps it was just as well that ladies usually never had more than toast and chocolate for breakfast. Evie felt as if she could stomach nothing else for the rest of her life.

Lord Ashdown was the only one in the dining room, and he immediately glanced up when she reached the doorway. "Ah, Miss Benedict! I trust you're feeling better?"

No, she wasn't. But she couldn't stay upstairs forever. She had to figure out what to do next. Leave the British Isles, as Gareth had ominously suggested? Or wait for him to return and take her away to Newgate? Or maybe she should just wait for Ross and Tabitha to stop by on their way back to Derbyshire.

She wasn't a traitor. Gareth would surely realize that once he or Ethan read the contents of the envelope addressed to Eris. She assured herself that the worst thing to come out of this was Gareth breaking her heart right after—

"I say, are you all right, Miss Benedict?" inquired Lord Ashdown. "I've already sent to the village for the doctor to see Lady Ashdown. He could also look at you afterward."

"Oh, I don't need a doctor," Evie quavered, then added, "What ails Lady Ashdown?" And where were Gerald and Flora?

"She's been ill in the mornings lately. Queasy before she even lifts her head from the pillow. She usually feels better around midday, but this has been going on for almost a week now, and so we've sent for the doctor."

"I'm sure she'll be all right," Evie replied. "And what of my cousins? Or have they not come downstairs yet?"

"Mr. Benedict and Lady Flora?" Lord Ashdown chortled. "Peculiar business, that. We thought they'd surely stay the night, but as it happened, they didn't even stay for dinner. Indeed, the last I saw of Lady Flora was after she went upstairs to look in on you and satisfy herself that you were all right. Then she came back downstairs and announced that she and Mr. Benedict would have to continue their journey at once, which I found quite baffling considering how late in the day it was. But if they preferred to spend the night in some coaching inn somewhere, far be it from me to dissuade them. It just struck me as odd—Lady Flora doesn't seem the sort who would ever stay at a coaching inn if she could sleep in a grand house instead." He cocked his head to one side, peering at Evie as if he thought she might have an explanation for her cousin's bizarre behavior.

Yet Evie couldn't think of a thing to explain it, and she wasn't about to complain. Either way, she would have to stay here until the arrival of her brother and sister-in-law.

In the meantime, the doctor came to visit Grace, and by the middle of the day, she was able to come downstairs on Lord Ashdown's arm, smiling radiantly at Evie as she said, "You get to be the first to know, Evie. Hugh and I are going to have a baby!"

Evie clapped her hands together. "Oh, that's wonderful news!" She was truly happy for both of them. She'd probably never have a baby herself. She didn't think it was possible that she conceived yesterday, since it was daytime and her first time and—and—well, she didn't think it possible, and perhaps that was just as well.

Tears glistened in Grace's amber eyes. "I only wish we could have learned this news two days before, then my parents would know at once, and Charlotte, too."

Her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "They'll find out all in good time, my dearest."

The following afternoon, another visitor arrived at AshdownPark. Evie was in the drawing room with Grace, where both worked on their embroidery, for rain kept them indoors. They heard the banging of the brass knocker, followed by the thudding of the heavy oak door, and then the echo of male voices out in the adjacent front hall.

"Who could be calling in this weather?" Grace wondered aloud. "Unless it's your brother and sister-in-law?"

Evie almost flung her embroidery to one side as she sprang to her feet and scurried over to the closed door, reaching it just in time to hear the butler say two words.

She turned back to her hostess. "I don't believe your butler would ever speak of you so familiarly to Lord Ashdown by saying 'Your Grace.' It's a duke."

Grace furrowed her brow. "That's odd. We're not expecting any dukes. They don't usually call unexpectedly, unless this one was forced to do so because of the weather. I suppose Hugh will receive him in the library, and we'll find out shortly who it is."

Evie returned to the sofa and resumed embroidering, wishing it wasn't a duke, but an earl and countess—namely, Ross and Tabitha.

"He's not traveling with a duchess," Grace said thoughtfully. "I wonder if that means he's a bachelor. I only know of three—Bradbury, Colfax, and Loring. I'm sure it can't be Bradbury, because he was here only a few days ago. And I don't know why Colfax would come this way, unless he's been invited to Lord Bellingham's house party in Yorkshire to be matched with his stepdaughter. It could be Loring—he has a castle in Scotland, but his younger brother lives there, and they've been estranged for years. Or maybe it's just a married duke whose duchess stayed home because she's in a state similar to mine, only more advanced." Grace smiled and sighed blissfully. "In which case, it must be Fairborough."

Evie struggled to concentrate on her embroidery, but kept making mistakes and sticking herself with a needle. This time she really was ready to fling the embroidery across the room when the drawing room door opened to reveal Lord Ashdown, who looked directly at Evie.

"The Duke of Bradbury has returned," he announced, "and he would like to see you in the library, Miss Benedict."

Evie didn't fling her embroidery anywhere. She merely dropped it as her heart tumbled and countless questions whirred around her brain. She knew it would do no good to put them to Lord Ashdown. Most likely he didn't know more than she did.

Trembling, she rose to her feet. No doubt Bradbury was furious at her mother for making a fool of him, and he was here to take it out on Evie.

She could think of only two things he might do to her in retaliation, both of which she dreaded, and she didn't know which was worse. He would either turn her over to the authorities to be tried and executed for treason, or he'd hand her over to Lord Kingsley to be his wife.

Lord Ashdown escorted her across the front hall from the drawing room to the library. "Don't worry," he whispered. "We won't let him take you away from here unless you're agreeable to it."

Evie could not think of a single reason why she would be agreeable to such a thing.