Envy looked his false fiancée over, impressed that’s she’d given most of the truth without actually lying to her friend.

Lady Katherine seemed only partly mollified.

“I apologize for any uncivilized behavior,” Envy said, trying to recall what might offend human sensibilities. “No ladies ought to bear witness to such violent acts, but Harrington never should have tried to ruin Camilla. He’s fortunate a few missing teeth and a broken rib are his only worries.”

At that, both women exchanged secretive looks before bursting into laughter.

Edwards rolled his eyes. “My lovely wife here was something of an underground pugilist before we married. They would hardly consider fighting a shock.”

Humans never ceased to amaze.

Envy glanced from Edwards to Katherine to Camilla. Edwards was outwardly as stuffy as they came, yet he had a certain impish sparkle in his eye when speaking of his wife.

“Did you fight as well?” Envy asked, staring at his artist.

“Goodness, no.” Katherine’s eyes glittered with mirth as she cut in. “Camilla’s always been more of a lover. She’d attend to illustrate the fights, though. Do you also box, Lord Synton?”

“Sometimes,” Envy admitted, thinking of Wrath’s legendary fighting pit. “My brother has his own private ring. Sometimes he invites our whole family to participate.”

The carriage rolled to a stop and Envy peered into the night. A large, towering house took up nearly an entire block.

“Welcome to Birchwood.” Edwards nodded to the estate. “Our city home.”

“I thought we were escorting Camilla to her residence?” Envy said, trying to keep any frustration from his tone.

He’d planned on circling back after they’d dropped Camilla off. Now that she’d come to her senses, she needed to start painting at once. Time was quickly ticking away.

Lady Katherine cut an amused look in his direction. “And not celebrate your joyful news? Don’t be silly. I cannot imagine sending you two off without toasting to your betrothal the way we ought to have done earlier. In fact”—she grabbed Camilla’s hands—“I insist you both spend the night. We’ll have a big celebratory breakfast in your honor too.”

Camilla squeezed her friend’s hands back and gave Envy a small, apologetic smile.

“That sounds lovely, Kitty, thank you. We’d be honored to have you host us for the night.”

We would be no such thing. As if overhearing his internal thoughts, Camilla sent him a withering glare.

“As my lovely fiancée has stated, we’d be honored,” Envy said tightly. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

At least they could retire to their bedchamber early and then work on the painting.

Envy was already hatching a plan to have Alexei bring the supplies they’d need when Katherine added, “Wonderful. We’ll have separate rooms made up for you at once.”

“Splendid,” Envy said, grateful once again that he was now able to lie.

He’d simply sneak into Camilla’s chamber later.

A feat that would be irksome but not impossible.

Or so he foolishly thought…

“WHAT IS THAT excessive ball of dander?”

Camilla glanced up from where she sat perched on her bed, following Synton’s gaze to the mammoth long-haired gray-and-white cat that stood between her and her pretend betrothed. Bunny’s initial purrs gave way to a grave look of disapproval.

Camilla’s cat was a wonderful judge of character.

Or perhaps the cat simply did not approve of a late-night visit to Camilla’s bedchamber.

Though Bunny probably sensed the inner war raging inside Camilla and was being overly fussy. Camilla was fairly certain Lord Garrey was dead. It was beyond difficult to grasp. She’d had no choice; he’d made it clear he was going to kill her. But still, she felt wrong for not regretting her actions.

Bunny nudged her hand, drawing her to the here and now.

“Lord Synton, please meet Bunny.”

Synton closed the door behind him softly, his attention traveling from Camilla to Bunny, then back. She couldn’t tell whether he was amused or concerned.

“Unless it’s casting some powerful glamour, Bunny is a feline. You do realize that, correct?”

Camilla gave him a bemused look.

“With the spirit and claws of a great lioness, I assure you. Don’t insult Bunny again, or you may live to regret it, my lord.”

His lips twitched. “I’ll take your warning under consideration.”

“Very wise. My cat does not appreciate anyone who does not worship the ground she walks upon.”

“Why is your cat at Lady Katherine’s?”

“Whenever I spend the evening here, Kitty sends for Bunny straightaway. She adores riding in Lord Edwards’s coach. They spoil her with her own silk pillow and bowl of warm cream.”

“You spend the evening here often, then.”

Camilla nodded. “We have dinner every week when Lord Edwards is out. I usually spend the night then.”

His sardonic expression shifted to something more serious as he finally took Camilla in.

“Are you all right?”

She inhaled deeply, then slowly let it out. “Is he…”

“Responsible for his own sins?” he asked. “Then yes. Alexei got the full story from him.”

He wasn’t dead. At least not by her hand. The knowledge wasn’t quite a relief, but a knot inside her chest loosened.

“I’m not going to ask why he wanted your locket,” he murmured. “I suspect you wouldn’t tell me the truth even if I did.”

Camilla pressed her lips together.

“As long as you’re all right,” he said, looking her over again, “I’m going to bed. Sleep well. We’ll start the painting first thing tomorrow.”

He turned, hand on the knob. And her loneliness rose up in a rush.

“Wait.”

He twisted to meet her gaze. Silent. Steady. When she didn’t speak again, a wry smile tugged at his lips.

“Did you want something, Miss Antonius?”

She wanted him to hold her again, to make the coldness still clinging to her disappear.

His gaze darkened as if he’d read her thoughts, his attention slowly moving down.

She hadn’t been expecting company, and a maid had already helped her into her nightgown and robe. Camilla had her own guest room at Birchwood, with items of hers stashed away for whenever she visited; Katherine wouldn’t hear otherwise.

The robe was made of silk and the nightgown was soft knit lace, the material hugging the contours of her body with gentle grace. Given the nature of the material, much of her silhouette was easily visible. She loved to sleep in its soft luxury, never expecting anyone to actually see her in it.

Camilla was now exquisitely aware of just how little she had on.

Synton’s attention was a hot caress as it slowly moved from her face and then downward. His perusal was thorough, sensual. He took his time, admiring every inch of her body before dragging his gaze back up again, just as slowly.

Camilla’s mouth was suddenly as dry as the desert, her body growing warm and tight. Gone were any horrible memories of the hedge maze. The ghost of what had almost happened had been chased away.

“Was there something you needed, my lord?”

Camilla’s voice drew Synton’s focus back to her face but did nothing to douse the fire crackling between them.

Synton had the air of someone who indulged in his carnal urges often and was well versed in both giving and receiving pleasure. Camilla had never been one to fully submit to another in any capacity, but there was something tantalizing about the thought of being subjected to his every whim and demand.

Before she could stop herself from imagining his previous lovers, jealousy seared through her.

His expression shifted suddenly, the fire giving way to ice.

“Write up a list of everything you need from your home.” His tone was clipped, impersonal. “Tomorrow you’ll be moved into Hemlock Hall.”