Ethan had told her he considered Corrine and Bea her kin, and he encouraged Maddy to send for them. He'd even offered to hire Corrine as a steward, since he'd seen her work ethic firsthand and still couldn't find anyone here that he trusted. And Bea's job? "A companion?" he'd suggested. "Or, at the rate you're accumulating stray animals from the countryside, maybe a pet caretaker."

Though Maddy had beseeched them to come to England, they were reluctant, citingde mal en pire . But she thought she was wearing them down with each letter describing Carillon. In the meantime, he'd suggested that she send an eyebrow-raising amount of money to them, delighting her.

And Ethan laughed more and more each day, regularly demonstrating a droll sense of humor. One morning when she'd been potting in the orangery, he'd strolled in. "What is this?" he'd demanded, his expression perfectly deadpan. "I doona understand the purpose of this exercise." She'd frowned, then glanced down at her kitten, who'd been wide-eyed, affixed by tooth and claw to Ethan's trouser leg. She'd laughed till tears had come. "It's like a burr I canna lose," he'd muttered, walking out with the kitten once more.

Also good…his lovemaking was breathtaking and wicked. Yet even his desire for her seemed tinged with the same urgency with which he gave her gifts.

Just this week when they'd gone riding, rain had begun to sprinkle down. He'd led her beneath an oak, beside a gurgling stream, and as the spring mist had lightly fallen, he'd pressed her against the tree, kissing her damp neck.

She'd gasped. "Here, Ethan?"

In answer, he'd slowly lifted her skirts, then ripped the slit of her pantalettes wide, making her tremble with anticipation. When he'd suckled her through her wet blouse, she'd been overwhelmed by sensation. She'd grown lost in the feel of his hot mouth against her nipples and his muscles flexing beneath her palms. The crisp, tantalizing scent of his body had mingled with that of lichen-covered rocks and fragrant heath.

He'd lifted her, his big hand pressing her head firmly to his chest. With his other arm looped around her bottom, he'd held her in place as he'd slid inside her. When she'd moaned, swiftly on the verge, his thrusts had turned hard and furious. As she'd climaxed, he'd pumped inside her, hissing, "Let this take…."

She knew he hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. The desperate need in his words and in his continued actions disquieted her….

It was times like those—when he behaved in inexplicable ways, when she could feel that secrets and barriers and even lies remained between them—that she began to have a growing sense of foreboding.

She told herself that her apprehension arose only because the last time she'd been this content had been directly before her life had been devastated. She'd been so unprepared for the world of La Marais. So afraid. So…useless.

Maddy had picked herself up, again and again, learning to survive. Reflecting on the past, she didn't know how she'd done it.

De mal en pire.She couldn't help it—she'd begun saving her pin money.

Forty

Ethan located Maddy in one of her favorite places—the orangery, with the black kitten lazing against the warm glass. That little beastie actually liked him, which only further proved Maddy's theory on Ethan and cats.

After leisurely kissing Maddy's neck in greeting, he said, "I've received a missive from my brother."

"Is anything wrong?"

"Doona know." The cryptic message was from Hugh, so it could be about either Network business or family concerns. "Just know it's important. He needs me in London immediately. How much time do you need to get ready?"

"How long would the trip be?"

"No' long. Three or four days, I suspect."

"Then maybe I could just stay here?" she asked. "I know you probably need to hurry."

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, I'm just a little under the weather," she answered.

He grasped her chin, turning her face side to side. "No doubt from being in this chilly room." Though the glass was sun-warmed, the inside space was cool and damp in the mornings. Yet he couldn't seem to get the furnace to work. He'd wanted to hire a machinist, but Ethan's lass seemed to think he could do anything. So damn if he wasn't crawling under that sputtering boiler at every spare moment.

"Ethan, it's perfectly fine in here—"

"You doona actually expect me to leave you when you're sick?"

"I'm notsick ," she said. "You have been very demanding lately, keeping me up at all hours of the night. And if you stayed, I'd want you to continue your demanding." She grinned, but she did look tired. "Agnes and her children can come stay with me for a few days. It'll be fun. We'll eat candy and play charades and wreck your house like barbarians sacking a city."

"Ourhouse," Ethan corrected. "Best remember you own half of everything you're breaking."

Though he loathed the idea of being separated from her, he knew she wasn't hankering to meet his family. And he couldn't allow her to meet them yet anyway. Hugh might have revealed everything to Jane. Ethan doubted it, but he couldn't risk Maddy's hearing the truth from anyone but him. To ruin what they were enjoying because he couldn't leave her for three days…?

Besides, he needed to meet with Edward Weyland face-to-face—and officially retire.

"Aye, verra well," Ethan agreed. "But only if Agnes and the children stay with you. I'll either return for you or send someone to escort you down within four days."

As soon as Maddy saw Ethan off that morning—with lingering kisses that almost made him miss the train—she and Sorcha began a baking frenzy. Six children meant lots of scones.

Agnes and her brood weren't supposed to arrive before midafternoon, so when Maddy grew overheated, she went upstairs to rest.

Though Maddy already missed Ethan terribly, she was glad she hadn't gone this morning. First of all, the very idea of meeting Ethan's family nauseated her. Second of all, Maddy had questions for Agnes. The widow had six children.

If there was anyone who could help Maddy figure out if she was expecting, it'd be her.

In any case, Maddy was excited about the children coming over. She wanted to make forts for them out of curtains and pillows, forts like they'd never seen.

Sitting at her new escritoire, she collected her pile of recent mail. Yesterday, she'd been too busy to sort through the weekly bunch. She grinned to herself—Ethan had been insatiable.

Flipping through the envelopes, she found invitations, a letter from Corrine, and one from Owena Dekindeeren of theBlue Riband coterie. Maddy frowned when she came across a thick missive she didn't recognize. She opened the seal and read the return address. It was from Iveley! She quickly skimmed the lines.

Just two weeks ago, she'd written to inquire about visiting, explaining who she was and her connection to the property. The land agent had responded promptly. He prefaced his note by admitting to being newly hired. He was experiencing some confusion and asked to be pardoned for it, but…"You, Lady Kavanagh, are the owner of Iveley Hall."

Yet how…? Maddy's eyes widened. Ethan had bought Iveley for her? "That man!" she said in an exasperated tone, but she was smiling. When was he going to tell her about this?

She could scarcely believe she owned Iveley. And apparently Ethan had at last found a hardworking steward for one of their estates—included in the envelope was a detailed report of improvement after improvement to the property.

Trembling with excitement, she turned to the second page of the note, skimming the lines with growing incomprehension.Your mysterious inquiry so puzzled me…after considerable hours of diligent research…discovered your husband had gifted Iveley to you four months ago…after having owned the property for nearly ten years…assumed directly upon your father's forfeit of the same.