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But as the carriage continued toward Scotland, James found himself wondering …

If this is truly only a practical arrangement, then why does the thought of Olivia becoming my wife make my pulse beat considerably faster than it has any right to?

The carriage had been travelling for some time when James glanced across at Olivia and said, "You have been unusually quiet."

Olivia looked up from the countryside passing beyond the window. "I was attempting to be considerate of your peace."

James's mouth twitched. "How very generous."

She narrowed her eyes. "You say that as though you do not appreciate my generosity."

"I appreciate it immensely," he replied, settling back against the carriage seat. "I had not realized how peaceful the journey could be when you were not arguing with me. It is simply different than our last encounters."

Olivia gasped in mock outrage. "I have never argued with you." Louiza made a small sound that suspiciously resembled a laugh, and Olivia immediately felt her cheeks warm. "We have merely discussed matters upon which we happened to disagree."

James regarded her gravely. "That is an impressive definition of arguing."

Olivia opened her mouth to retaliate, then noticed Louiza watching them with an unmistakably amused expression. Suddenly, she became self-conscious.

Why does it matter that Louiza is listening? Louiza is the one person in the world before whom I have never needed to pretend.

Her sister knew every foolish thought, every secret hope, every embarrassing mistake. Yet somehow, hearing James tease her in front of Louiza made Olivia feel strangely exposed, and she could not understand why.

The conversation soon turned practical again, and Olivia was grateful for the distraction, though her thoughts continued circling the peculiar embarrassment. She had no reason to hide anything from Louiza, and yet she found herself wondering whether her sister could see something in the way she looked at James that Olivia herself was desperately trying not to acknowledge.

No, there is nothing there to notice. This is merely an arrangement.

James was handsome, certainly, and intelligent, and unexpectedly thoughtful, but he was also a duke who had proposed marriage because an abandoned infant and an inconvenient estate clause had collided at precisely the wrong moment.

That is hardly the foundation of a romantic attachment.

She would marry him because it offered safety, freedom, and a home for the child. That was all. At least, that was what she intended to believe.

By the time they reached Gretna Green, evening had begun to settle over the countryside. The carriage drew up before a handsome coaching inn, its windows glowing warmly against the gathering dusk, and James descended first. He turned and offered his hand to Louiza, helping her carefully to the ground before reaching up for Olivia.

She placed her bare hand in his, and the instant his fingers closed around hers, a strange tingling travelled through her palm and up her arm. Olivia nearly missed her step.

James steadied her at once, his eyes meeting hers with a flicker of concern. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"Perfectly," she assured him, though her heart was behaving as though she had just run several miles. She withdrew her hand far sooner than necessary and silently blamed the chill in the evening air for the warmth in her face.

Inside, James led them through the bustling entrance hall and toward a tall gentleman waiting near the staircase.

"Lady Olivia, Lady Louiza," he said, gesturing toward him, "allow me to introduce my uncle, Viscount Hubert Delves."

Hubert smiled immediately and extended his hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you both," he said warmly. "I have heard enough about you to feel that we are already acquainted, although James has been remarkably economical with details."

Olivia glanced at James, who looked entirely unrepentant.

"My uncle exaggerates," he said.

Hubert laughed. "And my nephew understates. Between us, we usually manage to arrive somewhere near the truth."

Olivia liked his jovial mannerisms instantly.

James looked from one sister to the other. "You must be tired after the journey," he said, his expression softening. "Dinner will be sent up to your rooms, and I have arranged for baths as well. You should rest tonight. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Olivia blinked at him. It was such a simple thing, yet the thoughtfulness of it touched her unexpectedly. He had remembered that they would be tired, that they would need food and a chance to bathe after travelling, and had arranged everything before they had even arrived. She wanted to tell him that she appreciated the immense detail, but somehow the words seemed too revealing.