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separated him from his marriage to this woman, if her single-minded father got his way. Yet Rafe had no idea of anything she thought, felt or otherwise, beyond her strange negotiation terms.
    He wanted to press her further for the truth, but before he could, Serafina’s father appeared in the parlor door. McPhee’s face was red and sweaty and he had obviously been working himself into a froth.
    “Where have you been?” he barked.
    Rafe sighed. So much for his time alone with Serafina. Now he had to deal with McPhee. He nudged passed his future father-in-law into the parlor.
    “I’m sorry, did you forget our plans to ride in the park already?”
    “You were gone half an hour!” her father all but shrieked.
    Rafe blinked at the man’s sudden outburst. “That is hardly enough time to ride there and back, let alone have any kind of meaningful conversation. Dear God, man, you do test me.”
    “We need to discuss—”
    Rafe waved him off. “There is nothing to discuss,” he interrupted. “As you have stated so many times that it makes me want to scream, the contract is clear. I might argue it, but it would take months, waste money and further ruin the reputations of all involved. Not only that, but Miss McPhee and I have come to terms.”
    McPhee spun on his daughter. “Terms, Serafina?”
    She straightened her shoulders and gave her father a look that could have withered flowers on the vine. “Don’t worry yourself, Papa. My terms have nothing to do with what you are due .”
    He glared at her before he turned to Rafe. “You will marry on Saturday.”
    “In three days?” Rafe said as he lifted his brows. The man must be desperate to press for such a swift resolution of the matter.
    “That is when the original wedding was to take place and I have every confidence that you will be able to obtain a special license before then if you exert your new influence,” McPhee said, a cruel tilt to his lips.
    Rafe looked past the man to Serafina. “Will that be difficult for you, to marry me on the same day you were meant to marry Cyril?”
    Serafina’s expression softened, just as it had in the park when Rafe mentioned his attachment to his brother. But alongside that softer emotion, he also felt her surprise that he would ask her leave. Was it possible no one had ever obtained her consent, even in regards to the most important moments of her life? He could not imagine treating his sister or mother in such a fashion.
    “I am agreeable,” she said softly.
    “Then so it will be,” Rafe said, but found himself not ready to say goodbye quite yet to his future bride. Instead, he said, “Good day, McPhee. Serafina, please escort me out.”
    She tilted her head in surprise, but didn’t argue. She motioned to the door. “Lead the way, Your Grace.”
     

     
    Serafina tried not to fidget as she and Rafe stood in the foyer together. It would not do to reveal her nervousness. Yes, she could admit it, if only to herself: Rafe Flynn made her nervous. But it wasn’t in the awful way Cyril had before he died. This was something… different . Something she couldn’t name or place, but it wasn’t entirely disagreeable.
    “Serafina?” Rafe’s voice was soft and pulled her from her reverie as they waited for his phaeton to be returned to the drive.
    “Yes?” she asked.
    He stepped closer and suddenly his hand reached out, cupping her chin and tilting her face up to look him in the eyes. As it had in the carriage, her heart began to pound, her knees began to shake and not entirely unpleasant quivers started low in her belly.
    “It will be better,” he said softly. “Better than this.”
    Serafina bit her lip. What a promise to make. How she wished she could believe him. A part of her wanted to do just that, but she knew better. Until she was alone with Rafe, truly alone, she knew she wouldn’t see his real character. Despite their negotiations, despite his apparent good nature, he could be utterly cruel when the