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And for the moment, winter was gone, and all the dark thoughts that came along with it. The day reminded her of afternoons in her uncle's kitchen garden, or mornings col­lecting warm eggs from the henhouse, the smooth, perfect curve of heat in her palm.

A gull flew past, only feet away, and Emma thought of her mother exclaiming with delight at the sight of every seal or pelican as they'd walked along the seashore.

"What are you thinking of, Lady Denmore?"

Emma smiled up at her companion. "I was thinking of being a child, walking with my mother along the beach."

"Ah. I have never been to Brighton."

"Neither have I, actually! We preferred Scarborough. She did not go to be seen, you understand. She wanted peace." Peace. Just what Emma wanted for herself.

"Well, you certainly looked peaceful thinking about it."

"It is my favorite place in the world," she said, before she thought better of it. When she disappeared, she needed to dis­appear completely. She saw that Lancaster was about to speak and rushed to change the subject. "I was shocked that there would be yachting so early in the year. The water must be frigid."

"As long as there's no ice, it is always the right time for a race, I gather. There are people to place bets"—he shot her a sardonic look—"and so there are people willing to race."

"Some men are easily persuaded."

"Ha! When you are doing the persuading, I'm sure that is true of all of us."

Emma tapped his arm and laughed, but his words reminded her of Somerhart and how she'd finally persuaded him away. Three weeks had passed without a word. Oh, she spied him at a few parties, but he'd spared her nothing more than a nod and a look. He hadn't made his way to her, and she hadn't dared approach him after she'd finally gotten him to keep his dis­tance. It had been necessary. Painful, but necessary.

Lancaster interrupted her thoughts. "Lord Osbourne tells me that your luck has only improved in the past month. He is quite proud of your skills."

Emma laughed past her twinge of guilt. The Osbournes ha

d welcomed her as if she were a long-lost niece. They had been quite close to her uncle in their youth, and they de­lighted in hearing stories of him and his garden battles, but they were even happier to pass on tales of their collective youth. They'd be hurt by her elaborate deception, perhaps humiliated.

"Lord Osbourne," she said sincerely, "is the soul of kind­ness."

"He also mentioned that Somerhart has been conspicu­ously absent from most gatherings you attend."

She glanced up to find Lancaster watching her, a sardonic smile tilting up his mouth. He was an attractive man, he made her laugh, and she would undoubtedly have been flat­tered by his attentions if she weren't so conscious of her lies. He was more open than Somerhart, and so she felt con­stantly guilty. But she needed her falsehoods. If the rumors persisted that the duke was already done with her, she would be fighting off men like Lord Marsh every night.

"I rather think that Somerhart was conspicuously present a few weeks ago. He has only fallen back into old habits. I'm sure you know he prefers less public company."

Lancaster nodded his understanding. "So he does."

"Did you know his sister?" Emma asked, almost sur­prised at her own words.

"Lady Alexandra? Yes, I did. She was smart and impetu­ous. Entertaining. You remind me a little of her, actually. Though she was . . ."

"Younger?"

"Younger, definitely. But I was going to say more reck­less. You are more calculating in your risks."

Emma had been wondering about her, about this girl that Hart apparently loved so much even though she courted scandal and rumor at every turn. He had tolerated it, de­fended her. He hated notoriety, but he loved his notorious sister. He despised scandal, yet he pursued Emma. Or had pursued her.

They'd returned back to the yacht club where their walk had started, but instead of releasing her, Lancaster put his hand over hers. "My carriage is here. I hope you'll allow me to escort you home."

"Thank you, Lancaster."

He waved to his man. "I was thrilled to see you here. We don't often run in the same circles. We are clearly handling our impoverishment in different ways. A good thing, since I have neither your luck nor skill at the tables."

Emma stepped into his landau. He took the seat opposite.

"You've had no luck with heiresses?"

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