“Of course I will,” Veronica promised.

The ride back to London was awkward. The three of them had known each other since they were children, yet they barely spoke a word. Besides mentioning the weather, the delightful food they’d consumed over Christmastide, and the general look of the barren landscape, they each buried their noses in their respective reading materials for the greater part of the long ride back. Once in a while the silence was punctuated by Justin attempting to make a jest that was greeted by silence from the other two, before he shook his head at both of them and returned his attention to his book.

They arrived in London after dark. Huge snowflakes were falling all around the coach as they dropped Justin at his town house. “I’ll be by tomorrow with your other Christmas present,” Justin said as he hopped down from the coach.

“You really don’t need to buy us additional gifts, Justin. It’s completely unnecessary,” Veronica insisted.

“Gift,” Justin clarified. “It’s just one gift…for both of you. Call it a couple’s gift. And I insist,” he said before bowing and bounding up the steps and into his town house.

“What do you think he’s got for us?” Veronica asked as the coach pulled away into the night toward Sebastian’s town house.

“I don’t have a clue,” Sebastian replied. He watched her carefully. He’d never asked Veronica if she would stay with him in London. He’d simply assumed she would. It was sort of an unspoken part of their bargain. And now that they’d left Justin alone at his house, Sebastian supposed she was willing. She hadn’t attempted to alight at her brother’s town house as he’d been half expecting her to. But she would sleep in her own room tonight. He doubted she’d object, but even if she did, Sebastian couldn’t bear to be so near to her any longer without touching her. Whatever control he’d had while they’d been at Whitmore Manor had snapped.

When the coach pulled to a stop in front of his town house, Sebastian jumped down first and turned to help her down. She placed her gloved hand on his coat sleeve while they stoically walked up the stairs to the front door. In the marble foyer, they handed Hawthorne their coats, hats, and gloves, before Sebastian cleared his throat. “I have a few things to finish before I retire for the evening. Show the duchess to her rooms, please, Hawthorne, and ensure they are to her liking. Bring her whatever she needs.”

Hawthorne, who had been properly apprised of the arrival of both his master and mistress, was his usual efficient self. “This way, Your Grace,” he intoned. “Mrs. Holland and the upstairs maids have outdone themselves. I’m certain you’ll pleased with your bedchamber.”

Nodding, Sebastian turned toward the corridor that led to his study. Once inside the familiar room filled with bookshelves, a desk, and a conveniently stocked sideboard, he stalked over to it and poured himself a brandy. He downed the drink in nearly one gulp and then paced toward the fireplace. He’d invented the story about having something to see to before he retired so he and Veronica would be spared any awkwardness. Better to let Hawthorne and Mrs. Holland see to Veronica. Sebastian needed space. Some time to think.