She’d done nothing but think about him since that first night’s dream kiss. But whenever she remembered his exquisite caress, the banshee’s wail cut through her thoughts. It was just a dream, but she couldn’t shake the fear it caused. Worse, outside of her dreams, he’d never shown any interest in kissing her beyond a few intense looks and the wonderful way they’d waltzed.
“He has said he will not marry me. I am not what he wants in a wife.”
The countess huffed out an annoyed breath. “We are not speaking about what he wants! What do you want? He is a good catch. If you want him, tonight you shall have an opportunity to have him.”
There was no more discussion. Once home, Sadie went to her room while the countess restocked the brandy. All the while, Sadie mulled the question: Did she want to marry Lord Heath?
She didn’t want to say yes. She didn’t want to admit that every time she saw the man, he grew more appealing. He’d protected her when she’d been accused of murder two seasons ago, and he’d helped with Lord Liddican. He was a good father, a fantastic dancer, his children were adorable, and…
And when he looked at her, all the nonsense seemed to fade away. All she saw was him, while her blood heated and her strength of will faded. It made no sense. She enjoyed fighting with the man. She’d laughed openly at his troubles controlling his children. And she desperately wanted him to seduce her.
That wasn’t a good basis for a marriage, but the countess was right. It was a beginning. Still, she couldn’t forget her nightmares. For all that she discounted them as silly dreams, a childhood spent recounting bloody fairytales to her brothers hadleft its mark. She could not reason herself out of her fears. If a banshee showed up whenever she dream-kissed Lord Heath, then she ought to take heed.
She should definitelynotseduce Lord Heath tonight. Not even if he tried to kiss her. Because dream or not, she could not defy those demons.
Satisfied with her decision, she waited ten minutes after she heard the knocker. Then she crept downstairs, knocked, and opened the door without waiting for the countess’s response. “My apologies,” she began. “I heard voices and I thought…”
Her voice trailed away when she saw Lord Heath. He wore all the right clothes, but every piece was in disarray. His neckcloth was askew, his jacket seemed ill-fitting, and his hands were shoved in his pockets making them look misshapen. She could not understand it. He’d appeared in perfect wardrobe when he punched Lord Liddican, but now, he looked completely out of sorts.
“What has happened?” she asked, stepping further into the room.
He turned to see her, his gaze tight on her face. “Are you all right?” He took a halting step forward, then stopped himself. “We are in private now. Has Eddie been harassing you? You must tell me the specifics so that I may know how to stop him.”
“What?”
Meanwhile the countess frowned. “Who is Eddie? We were talking about Prinny.”
Lord Heath rubbed a hand over his face, clearly trying to reset himself. “My apologies, Countess. I fear my mind is—”
Sadie interrupted, rather than watch Lord Heath try to hide the fact that he knew her alter ego. “Lord Heath knows I am Lady Vengeance. Together, we are trying to ensure that Lord Liddican—Eddie—no longer beats his wife and child.”
The countess straightened with a sniff. “Her child is barely three years old!”
“Yes. Lord Liddican does not care whom he beats, so long as she is female.”
“That’s not exactly true,” Lord Heath rasped, then he sighed. “But it’s mostly true.”
“I see…” the countess said, her words a slow drawl. “So this discussion of the Prince wanting to meet Miss Allen was subterfuge. Prinny has no—”
“No, no!” Lord Heath said. “Prinny wants to meet her, but he doesn’t want it to appear arranged. He thinks that would put too much gravity upon the situation.”
Sadie frowned. “I thought he was going to inspect the tree that I climbed, and I was to accidentally be there when he does.”
Lord Heath’s brows rose. “That’s an excellent idea.”
Oh damn. That arrangement had been made during her dream. It hadn’t been real. But now he was latching onto it as brilliant.
“It cannot be tomorrow,” he said. “That’s the vote. But the day afterwards during the fashionable hour? You could choose to take a break from Hyde Park and wander—”
“At the exact location of our picnic,” picked up the countess. “Yes, I shall see it done.”
“But, no!” Sadie cried.
“Why not?” Lord Heath asked, his expression open. Not so the countess, who said the exact same phrase but in a much different tone.
“Because…” She couldn’t tell them that she’d dreamed this and the banshee had come. Except that wasn’t exactly right. She rubbed a hand over her face. “I know I’m not making sense, but must I truly meet the prince like that?”
The countess huffed out a breath. “This way, any way, so long as you meet him and he approves of you! Honestly, Sadie, I don’t understand—”
