“It’s not a long walk, only a quarter of an hour. We can dig our bait by the water.”

“Tell me about the bait and how one fishes in such a way as to catch a specimen like Old Harry.” Gareth knew worms were used, but he enjoyed listing to the boy talk. His enthusiasm was soothing and made him feel more optimistic. Already he was glad he’d decided to come. The day was clear and warm after such a long streak of rain. The ground was slow to dry up, but he would be able to remove the big rock before too many days were out.

The thought sobered him. He would have to leave after he’d completed that task. After all, what other reason did he have to stay?

***

Foolishly, Serena had stopped worrying and thinking and dreading Etienne Bardot, so when he arrived—unannounced and unexpected—it was a nasty surprise, not unlike finding a fly floating in one’s tea after one had already taken a sip.

He showed up two days after the horrific rains ceased, when the roads were still boggy with mud but no longer impassible for a carriage. He came when she was finally beginning to make some progress on the sculpture.

The muse had slipped in the door not long after Declan McElroy went away.

Something must have happened between the two men the night they’d all played cards, because McElroy was gone the following morning. He’d left on horseback, taking one of the hacks Mr. Lockheart—or Gareth as she’d been calling him, at least in her mind—had brought to Rushton Park. His journey must have been hellish indeed and Serena wondered at his sudden haste. Naturally she did not ask Gareth and he did not volunteer anything. Not that he had appeared any different than usual. At least not during the day. But at night—every night since his friend had left—he went into his odd room and punched his bag until his lean, muscular body ran with sweat.

She did not know if he made any late-night forays to the kitchen because she avoided that part of the house after dark, no matter how strong the pull to venture out and see him. Oh, yes, she wanted more. More of what they’d done all too briefly that night.

Serena was not blind, she knew Gareth Lockheart was intrigued by her. She knew he would consider her an appropriate candidate for a wife, her connections to the Duke of Remington as prestigious and well-regarded as any. She also knew his friend would do everything in his power to stop such a union from happening—not that it ever could. Even if McElroy left the issue alone, she could just imagine the glint in Etienne’s eyes upon discovering he could extort money from one of the wealthiest men in the country. No, she could not immerse Gareth Lockheart in such a dangerous web of lies. He’d been too kind to her, to Oliver. His friend was right about one thing, at least: Gareth Lockheart was a kind, caring man, even if he concealed his true nature behind an impenetrable mask. She would simply need to manage her unfortunate physical reaction to his handsome and intriguing person.