Gareth hardened instantly as Evie dropped her shift to the floor and stood before him unabashedly naked, her dark hair flung back over her shoulders and her arms at her sides. As he stretched out his hand to her, she gifted him with a playful little smile as she took it and allowed herself to be pulled back into bed with him.

At once their bodies twined around each other as his lips sought hers, and he kissed her hungrily—which reminded him, he hadn't eaten since this morning—but that thought flitted out of his mind as he rolled onto his back with Evie on top of him, her long hair falling all around his face as she kissed him just as eagerly, and then, to his delight, she rained little kisses all over his face, from his brow to his cheeks and chin, and all the way back to his ear, where she whispered, "I love you, Gareth," before returning to his mouth, but not before he replied, "I love you, too, Evie," and their tongues tangled anew. All the while, the tip of his erection strained toward her sex, still hot and wet and ready for him.

He shifted his hips just a bit, and Evie chirped, "Oooh!" as he slid back into her, and he groaned with pleasure at her tight, intimate embrace.

Then he writhed beneath her, not thrusting quite as hard as before, but just enough to drive him mad—and, eventually, Evie too, as she slowly raised herself into a kneeling position, still straddling him as she rocked on top of him, stroking her splayed hands over his chest. Gareth reached up to fondle her breasts, then slid his hands down either side of her narrow waist and over her flaring hips before plunging his thumb into the black curls between her thighs, flicking it over her sweetest spot as she closed her eyes and moaned, tilting her head back as she moved faster, matching the rhythm of her hips to his thumb till she cried out, raised her derriere, then slid off of him before rolling over next to him.

But he wasn't finished yet. He swiftly moved on top of her and entered her again, pounding into her so hard and fast that she might have struck the headboard if he hadn't climaxed just in time. All his strength and energy drained out of him and into Evie, until it was his turn again to collapse next to her on the mattress, panting for breath.

He reached for her hand and squeezed it. "I don't know if I can move."

She squeezed back. "Then don't. Stay right here with me."

He rolled to his side and kissed her. "I intend to. For better or for worse, till death do us part. I have finally found my heart, Evie."

She smiled gently. "I had no idea it was missing."

He thought of how Lady Ruth ripped out his heart the night she betrayed not only him, but England. But he didn't want to think of her anymore. All he cared about now was Evie, who'd always been right there, waiting for him to find her. Waiting to find his heart. "Maybe it wasn't missing. Let's just say you've picked it up and put it back into its proper place."

She pressed a hand to the center of his chest. "Still beating, and quite fast."

He smiled back. "You've exhausted me, but in the loveliest of ways."

"Yet you still can't move?"

"Eventually, I will. I shall have to. But for now, I don't know if there's any power on this earth that can make me—"

"Evie, are you in there?" came Lady Ashdown's voice from the other side of her bedchamber door.

That was powerful enough to send Gareth leaping out of bed to crouch on the floor, where he wouldn't be seen if the door happened to open. He was quite sure he'd locked it, but for all he knew, the lady of the manor had a spare key and might not scruple to use it.

"Oh, goodness me, what time is it?" Evie called out. "I was resting and must have fallen asleep. I'm afraid I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Apparently not, for I daresay you've slept all day," Lady Ashdown replied. "It's almost time for tea, and we have some new guests that I think you'll want to see."

"Who?" Evie asked, clearly feigning ignorance. Gareth thought she might be quick-thinking and clever enough to do the kind of work he'd been doing for the Crown, if not for the fact that the war was over, and moreover, he didn't want her engaging in such dangerous work.

He wanted her to be his wife and the mother of his children.

"Come down and see, as soon as you're ready," Lady Ashdown said through the door. "It's a surprise—for them as well as you, for I haven't told them who our other guests are."

"I'll be right down," Evie said, flinging back the covers and throwing her shapely legs over the edge of the bed, her feet sliding lightly down Gareth's bare back before landing on the floor.

"Should I send a maid to help you dress?" Lady Ashdown inquired.

"Oh, you needn't. I can manage on my own." She smiled down at Gareth and lowered her voice to a whisper. "With a bit of help from you, I trust."

He smiled back as he slowly rose to his feet. "Gladly. I can help you dress and then after you go downstairs to greet your brother and sister-in-law, I'll have time to put myself back in order and make an appearance without anyone suspecting a thing. It wouldn't do for us to go downstairs together."

"No, it wouldn't," she agreed, picking up her shift.

"I don't want your brother to think I'm asking for your hand because I just compromised you so thoroughly," he added. "I want him to know I wish to marry you because I love you."

Both still naked, they embraced and kissed again, clinging to each other for several moments, neither wishing to part from the other.

But they couldn't stay this way forever. Finally, reluctantly, they prized themselves apart and Gareth helped Evie get dressed in the midst of donning his own garments.

"I'll bet you've never dressed a woman before," she said teasingly, holding her hair above her neck as he buttoned up her pink frock.

"No, I haven't." He'd undressed a few women in his time, the most recent being Evie, but she was the only one he wanted to think of now. "But I can see why you ladies require maids. I'm not sure I could manage donning these garments on my own if I were a woman."

"Do you have a valet?" she inquired, as he placed both hands on her shoulders and lightly kissed her exposed neck.

"I use my brother's, whenever he is available. I can do without if necessary."

"So I've noticed. I suppose it helps that everything you wear fastens up the front."

"It does help," he agreed, as he picked up his waistcoat. "But I do believe I shall hire a lady's maid for you after we're married."

She whirled around to favor him with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she released her hair, letting it tumble in a black fall over her shoulders. "But you're so good at dressing me."

He returned the smile. "I'd much rather undress you. And I'm even better at that."

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "Come to think of it, you're good at doing just about everything to me. Dressing me. Undressing me. Kissing me. Loving me." She slid her arms over his shoulders as he slipped his own around her waist, breathing deeply of her sweet floral scent. Suddenly she broke away from him.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I just now noticed the bed. We made quite a wreck of it. Suppose someone did come in here after we leave..."

"Suppose they do? You already told Lady Ashdown that you've been abed most of the day. I'll take care of it. I can make my own bed, too. Your brother and sister-in-law are waiting. I'll be down shortly."

He sat down in the nearby chair to don his boots, while she hastily pinned her hair back into place. Black curls dripped and spiraled all around her face. "It'll have to do, I guess," she said ruefully, surveying her reflection in the looking glass over the dressing table. "I suppose I do look as if I've just emerged from bed."

"Your hair looks just as it did when you removed your bonnet," he pointed out. "You were also out walking today. And spying."

"Spying?" She spun around again, her eyes wide with indignation—or rather, feigned indignation.

"Yes. I'm sure you've heard the word." It could even describe some of Gareth's activities during the war, though he usually didn't use the word. In fact, he never used the word, except in reference to traitors.

And mischievous spinsters who happened to glimpse him swimming naked in a lake.

Almost as if she could read his mind, Evie said, "Do I look like a spy?"

"If you are, then you're perfect for the part," he said. "A good spy is always the one you least suspect. But it also means to surreptitiously observe someone else without their knowledge. Isn't that how you saw me at the lake?"

She huffed out a sigh, as if in relief. "Well. As long as you think I'm only that kind of spy, I should have nothing to worry about." She blew him a kiss as she flew to the door. "I shall see you downstairs. Don't be long."

He smiled as she twirled out the door, closing it behind her. He finished donning his boots and then stood up to button his waistcoat and fix his cuffs. He grabbed his coat and was halfway to the door when he recalled telling her that he'd make the bed before leaving. He grabbed the bedding crumpled against the footboard and threw all of it toward the headboard with such force that some papers blew off a tiny writing desk near the window.

He bent to pick up the loose papers, straightening them out before placing them back on the desk. And then he saw it. An envelope boasting two words. He thought he'd glimpsed it before at Tyndall House, tucked between the pages of Pride and Prejudice. At the time he assumed the words were For Evie and thought no more about it.

But that was before he met with Regis Hurley at VauxhallGardens and learned they were seeking an envelope addressed to Eris, a traitorous link between Madame Delphine and Lady Ruth Hale.

Now, on closer scrutiny, he realized, to his dismay, that this was that envelope. For Eris.

Evangeline was that link? It wasn't possible!