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gaze, lest he see the sudden tears misting her eyes.
    “My deepest sympathy, Miss Haliburton,” he said gravely. “We are all the poorer for his passing.” He cleared his throat self-consciously. “With your permission, I will forego showing you the kitchens, the bakery and the orangery, unless you particularly wish to see them.”
    Emily shook her head, still too moved by this stranger’s sympathy to trust her voice.
    “And I doubt you would find the shops which headquarter the carpenters, painters, roofers, and masons of much interest. Suffice it to say, it takes a small army of such people to maintain a place this size.” He pulled a thin gold watch from his vest pocket. “I have an appointment with the duke in one hour, so we shall have to put off the stables until another day. Do you ride, Miss Haliburton?”
    “I rode a great deal in the Cotswolds. The squire whose land adjoined my father ‘s was happy to have someone take his nags for a gallop.” Emily managed a smile. “But I haven’ t ridden in the two months I’ve spent in London.”
    “Ah! Then we shall have to do something about that.” He offered her his arm. “But in the meantime, we have just enough time to see one of Brynhaven ‘s most interesting rooms—the family portrait gallery. Unfortunately it is located in another wing of the house, but if you have no objections to a bit of a walk.”
    “I don’t mind a walk in the least.”
    “Capital! Then if you would care to take my arm, Miss Haliburton, we shall wend our way through the labyrinthine halls of Brynhaven and hopefully become better acquainted in the process.”
    Emily couldn’t remember when she’d met anyone as kind or as easy to converse with as the duke’s mild-mannered man-of-affairs. One thing led to another and before they reached their destination, she found herself telling him about the disquisition on ancient Mesopotamian legends which her father had been working on at his death. She was in the process of confessing her intention to complete it for publication in his name when the footman who accompanied them opened the door to the vast, hall-like gallery. The words froze on her tongue when she found herself staring at a life-sized portrait of the first Duke of Montford.
    “Handsome fellow,” Mr. Rankin remarked. “And the present duke looks exactly like him. In fact, as you’ll see as we progress from one generation to another, all the Dukes of Montford bear a striking resemblance to one another.”
    Emily nodded. The frenzied thumping of her heart made speech impossible. She had recognized a similarity between the present Duke of Montford and her morning’s tormenter, but this portrait made her realize just how similar the two of them were. Her heart skipped a beat. If indeed there were two of them!
    The inscrutable silver eyes staring down at her from the wall of the gallery looked frighteningly familiar, as did the raven hair and sensuous mouth, the powerful shoulders and lean hips. Except for his ninth century costume, this haughty aristocrat who had originated the Montford dynasty could easily have been the mysterious stranger she’d encountered on her morning walk.
    She closed her eyes and willed her heart to stop its thunderous pounding. But her mind flooded with memories—of a rich, cultured voice and strong, tapered fingers grasping her about the waist. And something else she hadn’t registered at the time A heavy, gold signet ring on the third finger of the stranger ‘s left hand.
    She opened her eyes and stared in horror at the heavy gold signet ring on the third finger of the left hand of the first Duke of Montford.
     
    Emily dressed for her first—and possibly last—dinner at Brynhaven with special care—as special as a limited wardrobe of ill-fitting, hand-me-down gowns would allow, that is. None of them were actually suitable for a paid companion, but Lady Hargrave had waved Emily’s objections aside, declaring she would have to make do,