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Landry recovered first. Springing to his feet, he demanded, “Steele, what is the meaning of this?” He veered Teeven a sideways glance. “Zounds. Did you strike my butler?”

Jason gave an unapologetic, terse nod. “I did. Knocked him on his…” He speared the ladies a glance. “Uh…I knocked him down when he refused to admit me so that I might speak with Lenora.”

Lenora wasn’t positive, but there might’ve been a jot of admiration in Landry’s expression. Teeven had been a prizefighter in his prime. For Jason to have landed him a blow that sent him onto his bum meant he could hold his own in the ring.

With his build—those muscled thighs and broad shoulders—she wasn’t surprised.

She also rose, glancing uncertainly between Jason and Landry and resisting the urge to fling herself into Jason’s arms, pride be hanged.

“I beg your pardon, Teeven,” Jason said. “I was desperate to see Lenora so that I can tell her I love her.”

He looked directly at Lenora when he made the declaration, and the love in his hazel eyes made her pulse quicken even as her heart skipped a beat.

Someone gasped, but Lenora wasn’t sure who.

It didn’t matter.

Jason loved her.

He loved her.

Teeven’s harsh features relaxed. Clearing his throat, he straightened his waistcoat and bowed his head minutely. “I confess, Captain Steele, your right jab is impressive.”

His regard gravitated to Mama, and something unspoken passed between them.

Mama turned a ghastly shade of gray and clutched at her throat with one hand and wadded her serviette with the other.

Landry skirted the tea table. With a nod, he dismissed Teeven.

“Thank you, Teeven. That will be all. I shall ring if I require you.”

“Very good, sir.” The butler departed, closing the door behind him.

Astute man. He knew whatever was about to occur was better kept private.

“You might’ve sent a note round in advance, Steele, and requested an audience,” Landry suggested, a hint of mockery and menace in his tone.

“I did. Every day, sometimes twice a day, for the past week.” Jason’s attention sidled to Lenora. “I personally delivered the last two letters only to be told Lenora was not at home.”

“But I was at home.” She hadn’t even been permitted her walks in Hyde Park after Dottie had eloped with Mrs. March’s footman the day after the Wimpletons’ Christmas ball.

Forehead scrunched, Lenora pulled her focus from Jason and pinned Landry with an affronted glare. He stared back at her, his expression troubled.

“Really, Landry? You told Teeven to tell Jason I wasn’t at home?” She planted her hands on her hips. “And where are the letters? I haven’t seen a single one.”

“I feared you didn’t want to hear from me,” Jason said, his gaze searching hers. “And that was why I’d had no response.”

“And yet, here you are,” Landry muttered drolly.

“Landry,” Celestia admonished softly. “Be nice.”

“I am always nice,” he returned glibly.

Lenora was so angry that it was all she could do to keep from lashing out at her brother. He’d gone too far.

“Hmm? Have you nothing to say for yourself, Landry?” she demanded frostily.

Rubbing the end of his nose with a bent finger, he considered her for a long moment, then slid his gaze to Jason. “I never gave a directive to intercept letters from Steele to you, Lenora. Nor did I give instructions to the staff to say you were not at home.”

A bit of the starch went out of Lenora. “But if you didn’t, who did?”

This made no sense.

“I did,” Mama said in an unsteady voice. “I kept the letters from you.”