"Lord Trevor," Emilia began warily. "How interesting to see you once again. What brings you to Lord Trotten's residence?"

He quickly strode past Lloyd and took a seat inappropriately close to her on the settee. Though typically Lloyd would dismiss himself at this time, he remained in the room with a guarded gaze.

"I trust that you can understand," Lord Trevor said with the most empathetic look on his face, "that I was simply so concerned about you being dragged off by Lord Trotten that I had to follow and ensure your safety. Everyone knows what he did to you several years ago, and you appeared rather unsure of your interaction with him."

Emilia could hardly tell the man that she had only been unsure because of the way Will was addressing her in front of Lord Trevor. There was really very little Emilia could tell him, and she was not adept at lying. So she said, "How kind of you, my lord. W—Lord Trotten is not even here now, and I assure you that I am fine."

"I know; I saw him leave shortly after you both arrived. Which is why I decided to come and ascertain your wellbeing."

Over Lord Trevor's shoulder, Emilia could see that Lloyd's face distorted with displeasure.

"Lord Trotten is close with His Majesty," she replied. "He returned to pay his respects and offer his services to him, should he require any assistance after what occurred."

"That is very respectable," Lord Trevor said in a way that indicated he would prefer not to pay Will any compliments.

"Despite our history," Emilia continued, "Lord Trotten only wished to assure my safety, just as you offered to do, my lord. I am very grateful to both of you." She twisted her hands in her knitting as she spoke.

"Why did he not return you to your home?" Lord Trevor asked, a queer expression on his face.

"I do believe that this was the closest option so that Lord Trotten could return quickly." Emilia prayed that her statement was even remotely accurate. She had never been gifted geographically, considering she never had to concern herself with how to get from one place to another.

Lord Trevor nodded slowly, and Emilia studied his face. It wasn't classically handsome, as was Will's. But he had a sort of rugged masculinity that admittedly appealed to her. His hair contrasted that with neatly parted chestnut locks.

"How inappropriate of Lord Trotten to bring you to his home, however," he insisted.

Emilia found herself becoming impatient with this inquisition.

"Is it not equally inappropriate for you to be here, Lord Trevor? I have already been ruined by Lord Trotten. We needn't add you to the list."

To her surprise, the gentleman had the grace to appear slightly abashed at her reprimand. He repositioned himself on the cushions as if suddenly uncomfortable. Emilia noticed how large his form seemed next to her small one.

"My lady, I should never wish for that to occur. In fact, I was hoping that I would be able to call on you. At Kingfield House, of course, and with an appropriate chaperone."

"You wish to...call on me?"

"Why, yes, my lady. I had been considering it since our dance at the Baxley Ball."

"Emilia wasn't sure why she was surprised. Lord Trevor had been attentive at the ball, but she assumed it was all in good fun. She did not expect that any gentleman would actually be interested in calling on a ruined lady.

She did not recover from her shock fast enough; Lord Trevor was already standing, moving on. She hadn't even had the chance to respond to his announcement of interest.

"Would you like a ride home, my lady?" he offered once more.

"No, thank you, Lord Trevor. I would quite like to finish my knitting before venturing anywhere at the moment." She gave him a wan smile. It was difficult to fake enthusiasm for knitting.

"Certainly, my lady. I look forward to seeing you at Kingfield House." He gave her a kind smile and bowed respectfully before letting himself out the door.

Emilia let a deep breath out through her teeth, letting her lips billow out like a croaking frog.

She felt as though she was nearly ready to croak, anyway.

Her thoughts were already filled with worries of Addie, Theo, and Will.

And now, Lord Trevor had been added to the mix.

****

"You were right, Trotten. It was not my sniveling little niece who killed my son," King Ernest said as soon as Will walked into the gilded room at Buckingham Palace.

"I am happy she did not betray you, Your Majesty, if only so that you do not need to decide what to do with her while she carries your heir," Will droned. "But I rather believed her sympathies were quite overdone today, in truth. She might not have killed the prince, but she certainly benefits from it."

He picked up a chess piece from the set that they often played on and twiddled with it between his fingers.

"Yes," Ernest agreed, drawing the word out in contemplation. "And now she holds all the cards." The king stood at the window, looking out over the palace gardens.

Will held up the pawn and said, "She certainly has the most pieces in the game, Your Majesty. And not only because she carries your heir. After her tragic speech and the events of the day, the public will only shower her with their affections."

King Ernest snarled at hearing the words precisely as Will had intended. Will strolled over to the window and stood next to his enemy. He handed the king the chess piece and said, "You need to play the game carefully, Your Majesty. I think it wise to let the public believe that you are on her side. You will need them, and therefore, you need her. Let us continue as it was before the prince passed. God rest his soul."

Will hated being here. He hated the King of England, hated Buckingham Palace, hated pretending to be an ally to the throne. He hated being all those things which Theo had called him that night at Weston's home.

Satan's spawn, the devil's debauchee, defiler of women, and the king's right-hand man.

Those were the duke's precise words.

And honestly, he could not argue with them. Will's father essentially was satan. That was the gist of what King Ernest had told him, right after His Majesty had ascended the throne.

Will had spent the last two years trying to turn the tables on Ernest. When His Majesty had first informed him that the late Lord Trotten funded Napoleon's artillery in 1813, Will had essentially told the king to fuck off.

There had always been an inkling of doubt in his father's humanity and respectability. And therefore, Will could care less if King Ernest dragged the man's name through the mud.

When the king had then implied that Will's father had somehow done so in exchange for a seat in the House of Lords, Will told him that he would simply give up his seat. If his father was a deceitful man, so be it. Will wanted nothing to do with that legacy.

But then there was the letter. The letter had changed everything.

After he'd seen in, Will gave in to Ernest's demands.

What the king wished for was to control Parliament. And so Will obliged, becoming a leader in the House. Soon after, Ernest began to puppeteer him, and Will realized that the only way he would overcome this was to become it. He started making suggestions to the king that he knew Ernest would like. Will began to pull strings that Ernest never even realized.

Leaving Emilia because of his dealings with the king had destroyed him, torn Will's previously unaffected heart into a million pieces. It was never what he'd intended to happen when he asked her to dance that first night at the ball. Their relationship was supposed to have remained uncomplicated, comfortable, friendly: a perfect arrangement for two similar-minded aristocrats.

But damn, Will hadn't even made it two months into their courtship before he had fallen in love with her. Truthfully, he could handle the pain of a broken heart. But what he hadn't been prepared for was her pain. Will hated that even today he had caused Emilia pain. The look on her face before he'd left his townhouse earlier told him everything.

Ernest turned abruptly and clenched his fist around the pawn before throwing it across the room. "This wasn't supposed to happen! She was supposed to have died with the rest of her family!"

His yelling brought Will back to the present, and it was challenging not to roll his eyes at the monarch's dramatics.

"We have no time to waste on wishing for things that should have happened," Will said, striding over to pick up the chess piece and placing it back on the chessboard. "We must remain focused on our current situation, Your Majesty."

The king was breathing heavily but nodded. "You are quite right, Trotten. I will allow her back and allow her whims. But when that child is born, we shall have to re-evaluate."

Chills erupted across Will's skin at the words, though he wasn't surprised to hear them. How many months did that give them? He had never asked how far along Adelaide was.

Will clenched his fists as the king continued on about the status of the caught assassin. And after enough time had passed and enough information had been gathered, Will bid the king goodbye and rushed to Kingfield House.

A year ago, Will would have been concerned that his route would be followed by one of the king's men. Ernest used to order surveillance on him constantly. But now, Will knew that the king no longer saw him as a threat. He had bigger games to play.

Will arrived at Kingfield House to find that Adelaide was in good company, with Theo and Weston, and in relatively good health. The physician had already examined her and suggested that she rest for several day. When the shot had fired at the church, Adelaide attempted to dodge the bullet, and she was left with a bump on the head after hitting the wooden post behind her.

Unsurprisingly, Adelaide was more than a little distressed. It had nothing to do with her physical health, however. No, she had a million questions on what had become of Adam, and Will was grateful that he had visited Buckingham before coming here.

He was happy to report that the mad footman confessed to everything. Adam even admitted that he had been working with George, making the prince believe he could take down the Duke of Kingfield since he knew all the ins and outs of his home. In reality, the footman had merely been using the position to get close enough to Adelaide so he could poison her. Adam had never really cared about what became of Theo.

After explaining this to Addie, Will decided to listen to Theo's suggestion that they leave her to rest. When Theo, Weston, and Will removed themselves from her bedchamber, Will announced his intention to return to check on Emilia.

"I presume you will bring her back to Kingfield House?" Theo asked. His look was caustic, and Will found himself giving a slow nod, reluctant to assent to returning her.

"Now that this business is behind us," Theo added, "there is no reason that we should not go back to how things were before Addie."

And that was when it hit Will.

They had no need for him anymore; Adelaide was safe, and the king was placated for now. His job here was done. His job watching over Emilia was done.

Theo seemed to notice Will's reluctance to let go.

"Look," Kingfield said. "I was mistaken about you. I will readily admit that. You have repeatedly helped to keep Addie and Emilia safe from harm. You have been our ally from the start."

Will's heart was lifted at the comments from the duke. That is until Theo continued by saying, "But I do not wish for my sister to get hurt again if you are not willing to offer for her. I know of what occurred at Rosecrest, Trotten."

Damn you, Adelaide. Of course she told Theo about what she'd seen in the parlor. Of course she mentioned what she'd walked in on.

Will should never have kissed Emilia. But upon dropping her off at his country estate for safe keeping several days ago, Will had turned to leave and found he couldn't. His intent was to return to London, to check on the king after the death of the prince. But Emilia...Emilia had called after him. She'd asked him, in that small, sweet voice of hers, to stay. More specifically, she had asked him to stay with her.

Will did more than that. Upon hearing her hushed request, he'd turned on his heel, walked back to Emilia, and crushed her to him. After months of being so close to her and not letting himself act on any of his desires, Will's control had vanished at that small request.

Over the last two years, Will imagined kissing Emilia again countless times. But he never imagined that she would react like that. He barely withheld a groan thinking of it, thinking about Emilia's little gasp of surprise against his lips before she began kissing him back. God, those full, pouty, luscious lips of hers had kissed him back and kissed him well.

Emilia had opened for him, and Will tasted her for the first time in far too long.

He couldn't help but feel freed by that kiss. Happiness visited him, if ever so briefly.

Will cleared his throat, realizing that Kingfield was still staring at him. His eyes were narrowing, likely knowing that Will was imagining kissing his sister. And in very great detail.

Good Lord, he wanted to offer for Emilia. And perhaps after everything they'd gone through, it was possible. It was still too risky to marry her, but there must be something he could do to keep Emilia from slipping through his fingers once more. Perhaps Will could tell her some part of the truth.

There must be some words he could say to make her stay. He wished to ask her to stay just as she had asked him.

"Thank you, Kingfield," Will said, eventually reaching out to shake Theo's hand. He cleared his throat and then added, "Now, if you'll excuse me, there is something I must do."

Will found himself rushing through the hallways of the duke's home, practically running to the front door. His motives might have seemed too eager and too obvious because Will could hear Theo yell after him. "This does not mean you have my permission for anything! I will see you both soon—"

And then Emilia's brother was cut off by the slamming of his front door.

Will had never been more eager to return home.

For years, he embraced an emptiness every time he walked through the entrance to his townhome. But now, he was imagining coming home every day to see Emilia's face.

He knew it was far too early for that, but he could not help it.

Will did not know what he would say or what he could tell her. But he could not stop thinking about what she had said earlier in the carriage. Will wished to protect her from everything in this world, but most importantly, he knew that he could not let Emilia continue to live an unfulfilled life in the country. He merely wanted her to be happy again.

He needed her to be happy again.

Will practically jumped from the carriage, barely waiting for it to rock to a halt.

And then he ran directly into Lord Trevor.

The other lord looked startled and potentially a bit frightened, as well, to see Will dashing toward him.

Will thought it was just as well that the man looked afraid because he felt slightly menacing at the moment. Cold dread filled Will's veins at the sight of Lord Trevor in front of his townhome, where he knew Emilia to be sitting inside.

"What the hell are you doing here, Trevor?" Will snarled.

Lord Trevor straightened a little, recovering from his shock of a meeting with Will.

"Lady Emilia did not seem comfortable with the way you dragged her away after the funeral, Trotten." He adjusted his waistcoat unnecessarily and then continued airily, "I came to assure her safety and wellbeing."

Will longed to yank him to the ground by that silly striped waistcoat and then promptly kick him in his pompous ass. He settled for grabbing Trevor's cravat in his fist, pulling him forward with a glare.

"How dare you follow me to my home, wait until I leave, and then harass my guest," Will grit out. "I swear to God if you touched a hair on her head, I will personally see you ruined, Trevor."

Trevor's eyes grew wide, but he did not stutter when he said, "I did not harass Lady Emilia. And I certainly did not touch her."

"Oh right," Will spat, releasing his cravat and watching him stumble backward. "And I am supposed to believe that you were here merely to assure her safety? I trust she assured you of that?"

"She did," he admitted, straightening his cravat. "But I do not think that it was appropriate for you to bring her here, Trotten."

"Appropriate?" Will scoffed. He knew that nothing he had done with Emilia in the past few months, hell, the past few years, had been appropriate, but this bastard did not need to know anything of that. How dare he accuse and judge Will of anything he did in the privacy of his own home.

Lord Trevor began to walk past him, and Will noticed for the first time that his carriage sat around the corner of his home. The other gentleman stopped when they were shoulder to shoulder and faced Will. "I only need to know one thing from you that I did not feel it kind to ask Lady Emilia."

Will waited for a second or two, and when Trevor didn't elaborate, he said impatiently, "Yes?"

"Is Lady Emilia your mistress?"

"My mistress?" Will could barely dignify a response; the question was incredulous. Emilia was too good, too wholesome, to be anything like that.

"Yes, well, you know how this must look, Trotten," was all he said in reply.

"No," Will said emphatically. "She is not."

"That's quite excellent news," Trevor said, and then he continued to his carriage. Will watched him go with a strange feeling in his stomach.

He had been about to swivel back toward his home when the man called back to him. "That might have changed my mind about making her my wife."