She had not heard him approach. Normally she knew someone followed her as soon as they came within twenty-five feet.

“Out taking a turn?” he asked. “You are far afield from your home.”

She stopped and faced him. That conveniently gave her an excellent view of the house over his shoulder. “I often come to Hyde Park, and today decided to admire the large homes on this lane.”

“I would say you decided to do a close study, since you walked by at least twice. Four times, since I only saw you retracing your steps. Some would consider that suspicious activity. It is the sort of thing thieves do before they enter unannounced.”

“You would know about sneaking into homes in ways I don’t.”

“Do you have a particular interest in Whiteford House, Mrs. Hepplewhite?”

She made a point of raising her chin and looking past him so she might appear vexed he delayed her. It also allowed her to watch that other man leave on his horse.

“Not at all, other than it being impressive.” She returned her gaze to him. “And it is Miss Hepplewhite.”

His blue eyes sparkled with humor, transforming his stern face into one much more alluring. Little stomach flutters almost distracted her from the house.

“You have chosen to style yourself as never married? What happens if you decide to wed again, and have to explain the truth?”

Her laughter burst out indelicately. “Oh, my.” She caught her breath. “I think it is safe to say that I will never marry. You see, a friend I would trust with my life once confided that marriage was worse than prison.” The details of what such a prison could entail cleared her humor in a snap, and dried her eyes just in time to see the duke ride off his property.

She squinted, trying to observe details.

Radnor looked over his shoulder. “Ah. It is not the house that interests you, but the family.”

She tried an innocent expression. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“That is my cousin.” He stepped aside. “Look to your heart’s content.”

Although annoyed, she did look. The horse came onto the street and headed in their direction. She managed not to stare, but still take him in. A handsome man, he resembled Chase Radnor but had more regular features. The strong bone structure made him appear dashing, not harsh.

The duke passed within ten feet of them, then all she could see was his back. She gave up her examination to find Radnor watching her intently.

“He appears a sober sort,” she said.

“He is concerned about our uncle’s death,” he said. “He thinks it may have been a murder.” He bowed. “I must take my leave. The groom who is holding my horse no doubt has other duties.”

“Do you think it was?” she asked when he had taken a few steps away. “Murder, I mean.”