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She gasped out a laugh. “Excuse me?”

He chuckled. “I know. It’s odd to talk about it, but I am certain it is very much necessary. We must convince everyone our engagement is real. My family will be a hard nut to crack.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“My sister’s mind is as sharp as a razor. My brother’s trust is as hard to gain as a key to the treasury of the British Empire. And my grandmama is no fool. But together we may be able to outwit them. I’ll do my best to show how taken by you I am. Even though that would be quite a task.”

The words shouldn’t have hurt her at all. She was the one who had asked him to be honest. But it pinched a little. She swallowed hard, but his burning gaze, which slowly took her in, made her shiver all over.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” she said. “I can’t be the only lady you pretend to charm.”

She didn’t like this game at all. Feigning that she felt something she did not…no. That wasn’t like her at all. She’d so much rather spend her time in her school, making sure the pupils got a proper education, ensuring the best future possible for them.

Her first class may have been a disaster, but she was confident she could make a difference there given time, whereas Lord Richard and she were going to play mind games.

But she had to do it to get Thorne off her back, to keep her school running. For the children and their futures.

And it would be for only two weeks.

“All right,” she said. “Let us agree to that. But no touching or kissing. Not in public. Not in private. I am sure you’re too well acquainted with the way ladies are seduced, and I do not intend to be one of your conquests.”

He chuckled. “As you wish,” he said. He took her hand in his and slowly shook it. His touch was warm and dry, and it sent blissful shivers up and down her body.

She tore her hand away from his. “What did I just tell you? No touching.”

A lazy grin stretched his lips. “Oh, Miss Grant. This may be far more pleasant than I ever expected.”

5

With the cold mahogany door of Sumhall under his clammy fingers, Richard braced himself for the confession that was sure to shock his family. Teanby, the family butler, maintained his composure, his face a mask of professionalism, but the slight tilt of his head revealed his concern for Richard.

How could Richard convince his family his sudden engagement to Miss Grant was genuine when they had never heard of her? They knew what had happened with Lady Charity. They also were very much aware of his habits over the past five years.

“Is everything all right, my lord?” Teanby finally inquired.

Richard forced a smile and straightened his shoulders, not wanting to worry the old butler further. Teanby had served the family for as long as Richard could remember and was more than just a servant.

“Of course, Teanby. Are they all inside?”

“They are.”

Richard nodded, his heart pounding against his rib cage. “Good.”

It wasn’t good at all, but there was no point in delaying the inevitable. He pushed open the door and entered.

Calliope, Preston, and Grandmama, sitting on two elegant yellow-beige sofas, looked up at him. Between them was an exquisitely carved tea table bearing a white porcelain tea set painted with red carnations and gold patterns of interwoven vines. Mama had brought that set from Spain when she’d moved to England as a young lady, and the family had used it ever since. And since her death six years ago, using it had helped them keep Mama’s memory alive.

Actually, Mama was in every part of the sitting room because she’d designed each detail of it. She was in the soft pastel-yellow-paneled walls and the gilt frames because she’d craved sunshine in cold England. Large and small paintings of sunlit landscapes full of orange groves, flower meadows, fruit gardens, and Mediterranean seascapes brought warmth and summer right into the room.

The Dowager Duchess of Grandhampton, a gracefully aged lady with silvery-gray hair and striking blue eyes, dressed in the finest fashions of the previous century, put her cup of tea on its saucer. “Richard, dearest. How good to see you.” Her gaze took him in. “I see you had some adventures last night?”

His fingers itched, and he briskly walked towards the large marble fireplace with its shiny black grate for coal. His steps were muffled as he reached the carpet with red patterns of flowers and vines that covered the majority of the floor.

“I’m glad to see you, too, Grandmama,” he replied as he laid his hand on the intricate moldings of the fireplace, the marble cool and soothing against his palm. “Adventures… You could say that.”

Right. He should have gone up and changed before appearing in front of them after a night of debauchery. How would he convince them he was marrying someone for love when he looked like he’d spent the night in a brothel?

“We were just speaking of what to do about Spencer,” said Calliope.