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heart,” Chase said, feeling his tightening inside him. “A marriage should be well thought out, the people well known to each other. You cannot fall in love in an instant and expect to have made a good choice.”
    She raised her gaze to his, her dark eyes stormy. “Oh, I hope you fall in love, so swiftly and suddenly that nothing else matters! Perhaps then you’ll understand how I feel!”
    She had no idea what she asked. Chase turned away from her before harsh words came out. He had no intention of falling in love, swiftly or otherwise. No amount of love had kept Phoebe safe before. That was where his duty lay. And nothing she or the lovely Miss Price could say would change that.

Chapter Four
    M eredee knew she ought to be quivering in her slippers that she was going to dine with Lord Allyndale. At the very least she should be plotting stratagems to get him to confess all. But when she was with him, she found herself talking instead.
    How could she not admire a man who wasn’t afraid to share his thoughts about science and philosophy, who seemed to genuinely enjoy her company? He was a refreshing change from the gentlemen her stepmother entertained. They lived at the very surface of life, talking in generalities. Algernon’s friends were worse. To them, she was an antidote—the poor spinster to be pitied. She hadn’t realized until this morning how much she craved more.
    A salt-tanged wind was blowing in from the sea as she and Mrs. Price alighted from their carriage in front of the Dearborn house. The moist air brushed the carefully arranged curls at the sides of Meredee’sface. A tingle of excitement shot through her. A sea breeze in the evening often meant a storm was brewing. She might be able to go hunting in the morning! But before she could do more than think about what that would mean to her promise to her father, her gaze lit on the house, and all other thoughts fled.
    Most of the people who flocked to Scarborough stayed in lodging houses or inns. A few rented a house overlooking the spa. Lord Allyndale’s house was of square rosy stone, three stories tall, with fluted columns across the front that softened the imposing lines. Candlelight glowed from every multipaned window, casting shadows across the stone steps. Meredee was glad she’d worn her best evening gown, a buttercup-yellow satin, striped with bands of delicate gold embroidery from the square bodice to the narrow hem.
    Before she could take more than two steps, the front door opened, and Lady Phoebe rushed down the stairs to enfold Meredee in her arms. “Oh, you’ve come, you’ve come!”
    Meredee managed to disengage with a smile. “Well, it truly isn’t difficult to travel the half mile unscathed.”
    Lady Phoebe linked her arm with Meredee’s and drew her up the stairs and into the house, leaving Mrs. Price to pick up her amethyst-colored skirts and trail behind. The inside of the house was even more grand than the outside. The entry hall was tiled in black-and-white marble, the pale blue walls edged in whiteleaves and graced with landscape paintings of rolling hills and stormy skies.
    “What a lovely home,” Meredee murmured.
    “It isn’t ours,” Lady Phoebe explained, bouncing on her pink kid slippers. The girl was dressed as usual in a becoming shade of pink, her gown boasting no less than three rows of flouncing at the generous hem.
    “We didn’t even get to bring our favorite paintings or furnishings.”
    “You didn’t get to bring your favorites, you mean,” her brother corrected her, descending the graceful curving stair. “I have an aversion to living in pink.”
    Tonight he was impeccable in black, from his tailored coat to the breeches, black satin-striped waist coat, and patent shoes. The dark color made the white of his shirt and simply tied cravat blaze against his skin and the gold of his hair. He bowed over their hands, and Meredee curtsied, mouth suddenly dry.
    “We are expecting one more guest,” he said