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She let out something between a sob and a chuckle. She was truly in a pitiful state. “I don’t know. I… seeing the duchess so distressed… hearing that a young six and twenty-year-old woman passed away… I just… I don’t know. Apologies, I am not making sense.”

Richard smiled just a little, a reassuring smile. “Everything doesn’t always have to make sense.”

She chuckled and stepped into his embrace again. “Is that how you rationalize our relationship?”

He rubbed his chin over the top of her head and ran soothing circles down her spine. “You, my darling, are the only thing that makes sense in my life right now.”

Jo frowned. His voice sounded strained. She disengaged from him and looked up at his troubled gaze. Was there something bothering him?

He’d jumped headlong into their affair just as she had. But she was so wrapped up in her own feelings and insecurities that she never bothered to ask what it was that he was trying to escape.

“Come,” he said before she could collect her thoughts and form a coherent question. “I don’t want us to get interrupted again.”

Jo licked her dry lips and shook her head. “I can’t. I have… Um… My courses started two days ago. And I am still… um… ailing.”

He raised a condescending brow. “That does not matter to me. I mean, if you’re not hurting, I don’t see the reason to use it as an excuse.”

“Richard!” She slapped him lightly on the chest, her cheeks burning. He wasn’t serious, of course. Was he? He probably just sought to shock her. “That’s… do not be unpleasant.”

He chuckled, kissed her wrist, and tugged on her arm. “Come,” he repeated with a smile. “I promise not to scandalize you. We can just… talk.”

“Talk?” She didn’t believe him for one second.

“Yes.” He gave her arm another tug.

“Where?” she asked as she followed him reluctantly.

He shrugged. “In my chambers.”

She dug in her heels, forcing him to stop and turn toward her. He chuckled as his fingers skimmed the skin of her cheek, then chin. She leaned into the touch like a cat, seeking more of his touch. “Just talk, I promise,” he whispered. Then his grin turned wicked. “And maybe kiss.”

“Richard!” She swatted at him playfully.

He kissed her swiftly on her lips. “Trust me,” he said.

Jo pursed her lips but relented and let him lead her away.

* * *

If Jo thought that he was taking her to his room, she was sorely mistaken. Sure, that was his initial intention, but he quickly changed his mind.

Richard led her by the hand through the servants’ entrance and up the winding staircase. She followed him blindly, not questioning the never-ending stairs.

Richard wanted to get away from people as far away as he could. And he knew a perfect place just for this purpose. He’d found it earlier when he was looking for an escape.

This mansion, although not his, reminded him of the Gage estate. It reminded him of the past. Of his happy—albeit occasionally lonely—childhood.

Their parents had loved them all dearly. There was no mistake in that. But he was the heir. He was always treated differently. He needed to be tougher than the others; he needed to look out for his siblings; he needed to learn the estate matters. He needed to be diplomatic but also ruthless at times.

He needed to be the man of the house when he just wanted to be a boy.

And no, his childhood was not harsh. He would never be so callous as to complain. But as a young boy, sometimes he just wanted to escape all the chatter below and observe everything from above.

They reached the last landing, then Richard pulled out an old ladder from the corner and opened the latch on the ceiling with it. He then pushed the trapdoor open, propped the ladder, and waved for Jo to precede him.

Jo stepped closer to the ladder and craned her neck to see what waited for her above. “I am not going there,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

“Where’s your adventurous spirit?” he soothed.