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“Hello,” she said, hands clasped in front of her to keep herself from reaching out.

Andrew didn’t slow.

It was impossible that he hadn’t seen her. The path was only just wide enough for two people, and there would be no mistaking her presence, especially when she’d kissed him good-bye in her kitchen that morning.

“Andrew,” she tried again.

The muscle of his jaw worked, but that was the only indication he’d even heard her.

She tried to swallow away the sudden dryness in her throat. This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t going to punish her. Not when they’d only just found one another again.

She raised her hand to stop him when a tiny flick of his wrist sent a piece of paper sailing to land next to her feet. Then his back was to her, a gentleman just out on a stroll.

Stooping would’ve been nearly impossible in the new slim-skirted gowns she created for her clients, but she’d worn a soft, generously cut gray skirt today, for her morning had been full of fittings and measurements. She couldn’t have been more grateful for the ease with which she bent and scooped up the scrap of paper.

Unfolding it, she saw that there was no greeting or signature, only:

The carriage on King’s Stables Road.

The note was curt—rude, even—and it had an unmistakable tone. That of a man ordering a woman to do his bidding. Handler and asset. Gentleman and mistress. It didn’t really matter. It would not stand.

Lavinia crushed the note in her hand and tucked it into her reticule on the off chance that someone might otherwise find it.

The thoroughfare mentioned in Andrew’s note was down the length of the park, so it took her a few minutes to make her way down the path and to the street. Along the way she stopped to admire the landscaping, strolling as though she didn’t have a care. She was beginning to think like a spy, and she wasn’t sure that she liked it at all.

When she finally reached King’s Stables Road, she casually glanced to either side. There were plenty of people about, but each of them was preoccupied with their own thoughts. None would give more than a passing notice to a well-dressed widow walking to her carriage with drawn-back shoulders and a determined look in her eye. No one would comment when the driver hopped down and opened the door for her as though it were the most natural thing in the world for her to have a carriage at her disposal.

The moment she was inside the vehicle, however, she dropped the pretense. Pretending to be someone she was not had never sat well with her. It was why she’d made it clear to Alistair from the start that she’d never pretend to love him. It hadn’t been possible because of the man who now sat across from her, glaring at her hard.

Even through her annoyance at his high-handedness, her body longed for him. She was built for him and he for her, and that terrified her despite the treacherous little shudder that ran down her spine.

“This is not how we agreed to meet in the park,” she said.

Andrew grunted. “Today required a change of protocol.”

“You were the one who insisted on the rules,” she said peevishly.

A little tug of the corner of his mouth told her that he knew he was being unreasonable. So was she. She cupped his cheek with one of her hands and lifted her lips to his. He kissed her but only for a moment before pulling back and rapping a fist on the wall of the carriage.

“Drive,” he ordered.

The carriage lurched forward, and she fell back against Andrew’s chest as his arms came around her to steady her. All at once her breath left her in a rush, and she felt strangely light-headed. It wasn’t just lust that had melted her anger away and made her so willing to fall back into Andrew’s arms. It was the security of him. The protectiveness. The knowledge that he’d never let her down.

It was love.

Ever since he’d come to her asking about her brother’s debt, she’d tried to talk herself out of it, but there was no mistaking the swooping, rushing sensation of it. She knew she was a fool for falling back into the arms of the man she’d loved as a child. No. The man she’d always loved. Yet the more she contemplated it the more she realized her love for him had changed, twisting and bending as fate had tried to break them apart and they found each other once again. This passion that had sparked again between the two of them was as undeniable as the rising of the sun. It was inevitable that she would tumble back in love with Captain Andrew Colter.

Before him her needs had been simple: work, protect her shop, and keep Caleb from being kicked out onto the streets. That was as high as she’d dared let herself dream until Andrew had come crashing into her life again.

Until he’d changed everything.

She glanced at him, but he was staring straight ahead at the wall of the jostling carriage. Something about him was off, distant even.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“It is nothing for you to be rude to me, Andrew. You walked by me as though I wasn’t there.”