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“I was standing perfectly still. You were the one moving at the pace of a woman fleeing a burning building.” His gaze traveled past her shoulder to the shop window behind her, crowded with rings and brooches winking dully in the grey light, and something in his expression sharpened. “What business had you with a jeweller?”

“A lady’s business, which is to say, none of yours.”

“I am only asking because you have gone quite pale, for a matter of no consequence.”

“It is cold.”

“If you say so.” He studied her with an attentiveness she found considerably more uncomfortable than his usual teasing. “But I must say that it is clear you are hiding something.”

Leonora tilted her head slightly. “I am hiding a great many things from you, Your Grace, as any sensible woman would from a man who purchased her against her will at auction.”

“I purchased a necklace. You attached yourself to the transaction afterward, entirely of your own volition, if I recall the evening correctly.”

“I recall it rather differently.”

“I imagine you do. Are you never going to let this go?”

Something in the question caught her sideways, more than it should have. She opened her mouth to fire back something sharp and found, for a moment, that nothing came. She was not truly angry with him, not for this. She was angry with a jeweller who had no name to give her, with a trail that kept warming and going cold again, with years spent chasing a woman who seemed to leave a room the instant Leonora entered it. He had simply been standing closest when the temper finally wanted somewhere to go. She drew a slow breath, let the edge in her shoulders ease, and reminded herself that whatever else he was, he was not the reason she was so frustrated.

“Well you strike me as a man who has never once in his life been told no, which I suspect accounts for at least half of your personality. I am not surprised that you recall it differently. You see things you want to.”

Anthony scoffed. “Only half my personality?”

“I am being generous. I have not yet decided on the other half.”

“Do let me know when you have. I find I am curious what I am apparently composed of, beyond stubbornness and an inconvenient talent for being told no.”

“Arrogance, certainly,” she said fighting back a smile. A truly staggering quantity of it. I have never met a man so thoroughly convinced of his own charm.”

Anthony tilted his head, studying her with something less like amusement now and more like genuine attention. “You are quite out of sorts today, Miss Ashcroft. More than your usual measure of it, and that is saying a great deal.”

Leonora let out a short breath, and did not bother arguing the point. He was right, and she found she had not the energy to pretend otherwise. “You are not wrong.”

She drew a slow breath, steadying herself, and lifted her chin toward him instead. “What brings you to this corner of town, Your Grace? I did not take you for a man who frequents jewellers on a passing whim.”

“I was actually on my way to call upon you, as it happens. I had business in the area this morning, but lucky for me, I saw you walking some way ahead of me on the street. I confess I stopped rather than called after you, thinking it wiser to catch you up than to shout your name across half of London.”

Leonora’s eyes narrowed slightly, more out of habit than real suspicion. “Why did you wish to catch me up at all, Your Grace?”

“I have an errand I cannot manage alone. A ring needs choosing, and soon, and I would rather not trust my own eye for it. I require your assistance.”

“Well, surely a jeweller can advise you on that far better than I can. I understand it is rather their entire trade.”

“A jeweller will sell me whatever sits nearest the front of the case. I require someone who will tell me the truth if I choose poorly.”

“Then choose whichever glitters most, Your Grace. I hardly think this requires my particular involvement.”

“It requires exactly that.” Something in his voice had lost its usual ease. “It would not take much of your time, Miss Ashcroft, that I promise you.”

Leonora opened her mouth to argue further, already composing some remark about how a woman who forgot she had bought a hat only last month was unlikely to scrutinize a ring so closely. Then she caught the look on his face, and the argument died before it reached her tongue. Whatever teasing had lived there a moment ago was gone entirely. His jaw was set, his eyes steady on hers, waiting, and he looked, for the first time since she had known him, uncertain of her answer.

“I can spare an hour,” she said. “No more.”

“An hour will do.” Something in his shoulders eased, as though he had truly expected her to refuse him.

Anthony gestured down the street with a tilt of his hand, and started walking without waiting to see if she followed.

“You are going the wrong way, I think,” Leonora said, hurrying to match his stride.