Up in the lighted window Mr. Lockheart paused, stilling the swinging leather bag with one hand and holding it while he dropped his head onto his forearm, his deep breathing obvious even from this distance.

“Perhaps you might take take a leaf out of your friend’s book and state your point in plain words, Mr. McElroy,” Serena said, not bothering to look at him.

Mr. McElroy moved until he stood between Serena and her view of the window, his face as hard as a granite carving, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Gareth Lockheart is the smartest man I have ever met. But, in a lot of ways, he is like a child. Because he is not motivated by greed or jealousy or envy, he does not take those emotions into account in his dealings with others. In addition to being the smartest person I know, he is also the most honest, generous, and kind.” He reached out and ran a finger along her jaw. “I, Mrs. Lombard, am quite another kettle of fish.”

Serena jerked her head away from his hand and took a step back. “What exactly—”

“I am good at reading people and can spot a liar or somebody who is hiding something from twenty paces. You, Mrs. Serena Lombard, are hiding something. I can smell it on you like other men might smell your perfume. If it turns out it is this blasted garden or some other scheme you have cooked up with Featherstone, I warn you, Mrs. Lombard, your august connections will not save you from me if I find out you are manipulating my friend. Good evening, ma’am.” He turned and walked away, leaving Serena feeling as if she had been slapped in the face.

How dare he?

She spun around to ask him just that, but he had disappeared into the darkness without a trace. Serena slumped against the closest tree, her mind whirling. What did he know? How could he know anything? Even Sandy didn’t know, although he suspected, with his own aptitude for lies and deception, that something was not quite right.

Should she leave? If she did, where would the money come from for the next payment? If she didn’t, would McElroy make good on his threat and she would find herself in an even worse bind? She had meant no harm to Mr. Lockheart, but it was hard to remember that with all the guilt and fear that surrounded her.

And if she had briefly entertained the thought of marrying Mr. Lockheart, and giving him the connections into the aristocracy he needed, could she really be blamed? Her first thought was for her son. She would do anything to protect him. Anything.

She looked up at the window, foolishly thinking there might be answers there. But it was now dark, just like all the others.

Chapter Eight

Mrs. Lombard was in the breakfast room before him, a roll of plans laid out across the large table while she ate her breakfast.