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only a bit. He knew what Darlington
wanted to talk about. Since he’d tumbled into the parson’s mousetrap, he’d
become so domesticated.
    To his credit, James didn’t waste any time. “Are you coming?
To the house party?”
    It was the last thing Ethan wanted to do next week. What he
really wanted—more than anything—was to find his Mignon. Although in his heart
of hearts, he knew the task was impossible. He could attend every tawdry affair
between now and Christmas and never catch a whiff of her. Hell, he could look
right at her in a crowded room—in an empty room—and not know her. It was damn
frustrating.
    He should have followed her last night.
    Oh, he had. He’d followed her as she’d made her way through
the darkened garden and around the house. He’d watched her climb aboard an
elegant—though unmarked—carriage. Watched her disappear into the mist.
    He should have followed.
    “Well?” Darlington studied him, a frown darkening his
countenance. “Come on, Penny. Don’t throw me to the wolves like this.”
    Ethan forced a laugh. “She’s your wife. Hardly a slavering
predator.”
    “Spoken like a true bachelor.” Darlington wiped a palm over
his face. “You know how I hate these things. Picnics and punting. The
interminable musicale.” He shuddered. “I’ve seen the guest list. A litany of
prigs.”
    “Hardly an incentive to attend.”
    Darlington put out a lip. “But if you were there I would
have a collaborator.”
    “An accomplice?”
    “Exactly. An excuse to escape the tedious teas.” God’s
grace, Lady Darlington did love her teas.
    Ethan chuckled and surveyed the parade of lovely women
taking in the crisp spring air. Not a one of them would have him. And he was
damn tired of all the reminders. Maybe it would be good for him to get out of
town, remove himself from people who turned away at the sight of him. Maybe it
would do him good to rusticate in the countryside for a month or so.
    Maybe he could forget her .
    James sensed his hesitation and propped his fists on his
hips. “You did promise to help celebrate my birthday.”
    He had. Damn it all. There was nothing for it. Ethan dipped
his head. “Of course I’ll come, Darlington. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
    “Excellent. We leave on Sunday.” His gaze flicked to the
rose in Ethan’s hand. “Are you meeting someone?”
    Ethan checked his watch, one last time, and blew out a
breath. “It appears not.”
    James’ smile dimmed, but only a tad as his eyes flicked back
to the rose. He knew full well Ethan had been stood up but would never mention
it. “Excellent. There’s a new stallion at Tattersall’s. It’s coming up for
auction tomorrow and I wanted to have a look at him in advance. Care to join
me?”
    “Absolutely.” Ethan tucked the rose into his lapel and
collected his horse. “Perhaps we could stop by White’s for a drink.” Or six.
    Darlington’s lashes flittered. He forced a broad smile.
“Excellent,” he said. “Excellent.”
    Yes. There were times when it was quite wonderful to have a
partner in crime. Quite wonderful indeed.
    Because right now Ethan didn’t want to be alone. Not at all.
     
    Eleanor jumped, sloshing her tea into her saucer, as the
charming Ormolu clock on the mantel chimed noon. She glanced at it longingly.
    He was there, right now, at Hyde Park. Waiting for her. She
attempted a sip from Helena’s fine china cup, but her hand trembled far too
much so she set the cup and saucer on the tray and sighed.
    How she wished she could have gone to meet him. For one
thing, she would have loved to have seen his face. Just once. For another, she
hadn’t stopped thinking of her mystery lover since they parted. She’d lain
awake in her enormous bed, in the frigid mausoleum of Ulster’s mansion, burning
with fire for the touch of a man she’d never really seen.
    She’d relived every second of their tryst, every whisper,
every sensation. And as she’d thought of him she’d allowed her