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Three weeks; two months; a wife; a co-governor; Thomas's dream balanced on the edge of a knife.

Now I must persuade a woman to marry me, to trust me with her future, and to share the burden of Thomas's dream. Such a short amount of time to undo thirteen years of running.

His thoughts turned instantly to Adelaide Ashbourne—her sharp intellect, her hazel eyes, and the quiet reverence with which she had held Thomas's final field journal the previous afternoon.

She alone understood the collection with the depth it demanded. She had corrected his botanical entries without hesitation or arrogance, possessing both the intellect and the character required to safeguard Thomas's memory.

She is the only woman I could ever ask to be my wife.

The realization took hold of him with absolute clarity. Steadying his posture, Julian met the lead trustee's cold gaze.

"You shall have the executed contract at your meeting in three weeks."

The trustee offered a polite nod. "The board anticipates your compliance, Your Grace."

Julian turned and exited the meeting room without further remark, the heavy oak door closing behind him. Pausing in the quiet hallway, he rested a hand against the wood paneling.

I need her. I need her more than I have ever needed anyone.

I have little time. I will not waste a single second.

Stepping out into the bright Mayfair morning, he called for his horse, determined to return to Ashwood Manor without delay to secure the one woman who held the key to his brother's legacy and his own future.

CHAPTER 5

"His Grace, the Duke of Ravensmere, has returned, miss."

Adelaide's hand stilled over her teacup, and she looked up at the footman.

"The duke?" The question escaped her hastily, her voice rising in pitch. "He departed for London merely two days ago."

"He rode up the drive just now, miss. Drenched through, by the look of his cloak."

Adelaide set the cup down carefully before her fingers betrayed her agitation, though tea still slopped over the porcelain saucer. She stared at the spreading brown stain, her mind racing.

He came back. He actually returned.

"Shall I inform His Grace that you are indisposed, miss?"

"No." She rose from the table, her chair scraping sharply against the flagstones. "No, I shall receive him in the drawing room at once."

The footman bowed and departed. Adelaide remained alone in the morning room for a brief moment, attempting to steady her quickening pulse as she smoothed her skirts. Her sprigged muslin dress was plain and sensible for reviewing household accounts, hardly suitable attire for receiving a duke who appeared and vanished with unpredictable urgency.

She had spent the past two days immersed in Thomas's journal, reading his cramped script until the sentences blurred into her own grief. Having slept poorly, she had convinced herself that Julian's departure had marked the end of the matter.

She walked toward the drawing room now, forcing each step to remain even. Sunlight fell through the tall windows in pale rectangles, illuminating dust motes suspended in the quiet air.

Julian rose from his chair as she entered. A distinct tension hung about him; though his coat was dry and well-brushed, heavy shadows smudged the skin beneath his eyes. He had shaved since his previous visit, revealing the lean, sharp angles of his face and a small scar near his jawline. He possessed the hollow look of someone who had gone days without rest.

"Your Grace." She offered a formal curtsy. "You have returned with unexpected speed."

"Miss Ashbourne." He did not smile. "I apologize for intruding upon you once more."

"Apologies are unnecessary. Ashwood is accustomed to unexpected visitors." She moved toward the center of the room, keeping the tea table between them. "Though I confess I did not anticipate seeing you again quite so soon."

The remark hung in the air, sharper than she intended. Julian's jaw set tightly.

"You believed I would not return."