“All thanks to a dog,” he said with a soft laugh before returning his lips to her neck.

She took his hat off and ran her fingers through his hair. “Ash completely changed my life. I never dreamed of such happiness with you and with my father returned.” Her voice caught, and Gregory lifted his gaze to hers once more.

“Don’t for a moment think you don’t deserve it. I’m going to make sure all your days are filled with joy and laughter.”

“You can’t guarantee that, Sir Cheerful, but I believe you will do your best, and I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life.” She touched his cheek and looked at him with emotion so deep, it stole his breath. “Thank you.”

February, the day Evie and Gregory left London

Lucien ignored the surprised look on his father’s butler’s face as he entered Evesham House. Bender’s gaze had dipped to Lucien’s white cravat. “I know what you’re thinking,” Lucien said grouchily.

“It’s good to see you, my lord,” Bender said evenly.

Lucien glanced down at his cravat. “Do you think the duke will notice?”

“He’ll never tell you.”

No, he would not. Still, it was the best white flag—since it was literally white—that Lucien had for this frustratingly necessary meeting. “Shall I go to his study?”

Bender inclined his head. “Of course.”

Sometime after Evie and Gregory had left his house, Lucien had sent a note to the duke requesting a meeting. It galled him to do this, but there was simply no other way.

Lucien walked stiffly, his head high, to the study. As usual, the duke sat behind his desk, reading or scribbling—today it was the latter—until he deigned to register Lucien’s presence.

After a few minutes, the duke looked up. His gaze lingered briefly on the cravat, and Lucien was glad he’d gone to the trouble, even if it was supremely annoying.

“This is a surprising meeting. Sit.”

Lucien would normally do the opposite, but he needed the man’s help, so he sat. He kept his spine rigid away from the back of the chair. “I’ll get right to the reason for my visit. As you undoubtedly know, my club has become a bit…notorious of late.”

“Your club has always been notorious,” the duke said with mild derision. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Gritting his teeth, Lucien tamped down his irritation. It wouldn’t do to lose his temper. “That was not my goal, but I can’t say that I care.” Damn, this was even harder than he’d anticipated. Perhaps there was another way. There had to be. “On second thought, never mind.” Lucien stood and turned toward the door.

“You want money.”