All those arguments against him that passion had obscured presented themselves again, fully clothed in their rationality. Worse, he may now be curious about her marriage, and ask her about it. Or ask others. Any chance that her old life would escape inquiry had just become less likely.

She left the drapes open, but returned to her bed, to await the sunrise. She inhaled what was left of his scent, imagined his embrace, and dwelled within the night’s magic for a few minutes more.

* * *

Chase wore the happy mood of a man well sated when he descended the stairs and entered the morning room. Nicholas looked up from his mail upon his entry.

“You have risen early,” Nicholas observed. “My excuse is I barely slept. What is yours?”

“I retired early. Remember?” Chase examined the sideboard, then filled a plate. Coffee already waited when he sat.

Nicholas continued perusing his mail. “Early though you are, you are too late to see off Mrs. Rupert. Rude of you. However, I took your place. I promised her that dinner when I return to London.”

The news caught Chase while he was raising his cup. He paused a second, surprised.

“You did know she was leaving, I assume.”

“Of course. Just not so early.”

“She sent her maid down to ask for a carriage to be hired and brought for her and her friend. The butler had the sense to offer one of mine instead, so off they went.” Nicholas turned another letter. “She said she had another assignment waiting and could not dally here, since her assistance to you was finished.”

“She said all of that, did she?” Chase dug into his breakfast.

“Well, I asked. Her departure seemed hasty to me. And I was planning that dinner tonight.” Nicholas set the stack of letters to one side. “She was most emphatic that we not disturb you, the way I suggested. I would suspect the two of you had a falling out, except she appeared not the least bit vexed. In fact she looked very contented. As did you when you entered this chamber.”

Chase kept eating. Let Nicholas probe, in his unsubtle way. Minerva’s assistance was over, for all intents and purposes. She had met with the servants. She merely had not told him what she had learned. And they had both concluded the duke had not fallen accidentally. In short, Melton Park no longer was of interest to her. She had learned all she probably would ever learn from it.

It thus made perfect sense that she had left. So why was his contentment much diminished now, replaced by a sharp annoyance? He had expected—he wasn’t sure what. A few words at least. A secret smile. If she needed to leave, a note perhaps.