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But everything in him wanted to marry Ella.

Outside, the sky was unexpectedly clear for a London night, with neither coal smoke nor clouds blurring the stars. Fiennes couldn’t bring himself to speak to anyone; he backed into the shadow of the house and watched guests milling around the lawn. Even the Regent had emerged from the card room and joined Fulvia and her father.

A light streaked across the sky and was greeted by excited shouts.

The night was warm, but not warm enough, given that Ella’s entire chest was exposed. Fiennes caught the butler’s eye and nodded at Ella. Jarvis whisked away, returning with a wrap.

Ella appeared to be introducing Devin to the butler, an unusual action. She smiled up at his friend, and a tremor went through Fiennes’s body, his fist curling at his side.

He forced himself to look toward his fiancée instead. Belying the dislike he’d seen in her eyes when looking at St. Trevelyon, Fulvia was playing a charming Cordelia to her father’s Lear, clinging to his arm as if she loved him more than words could express.

Footmen were carrying chairs and blankets onto the lawn. The guests spread into groups, younger people sitting down as if they were at a picnic, watching the sky with excitement and shrieking at each falling star.

Devin and Ella drifted further down the lawn toward the shore of the Thames, so Fiennes followed. More stars fell.

Fiennes ignored the sky, watching Devin to make damn certain that he didn’t try to hold Ella’s hand. They joined a group including Devin’s sisters, seated on quilts and excitedly wishing on each star.

Fiennes stood in the shadow of a fragrant lilac bush. As if she were as aware of him as he was of her, Ella turned her head and looked at him, eyes wide, lips parted.

“Come,” he said silently. “Please.”

“No,” she retorted, her beautiful lips still.

“Please.”

She leaned over to the young lady beside her and whispered something. The miss was busy charting falling stars and merely nodded. Ella stood.

Fiennes stayed where he was, his heart pounding its way out of his chest. It actually hurt, as if muscles were suffocating an organ that had never made itself known to him before.

Then Ella slid into place beside him, a dark wrap hiding her magnificent bosom.

Which was good.

Excellent, in fact. He was marrying another woman.

“I have to tell you that I don’t want—” Fiennes began and stopped, unable to say the words aloud.

Her eyes made him dizzy. When he didn’t continue, she said, “I was surprised by your announcement. But thereafter, Devin told me what Fulvia had inadvertently done. She had no idea. She simply loves theater more than anything.”

“Acting, more than anything.”

“Well, I suppose so, except to this date, I’ve been her only audience.”

Fiennes caught Ella’s hand and drew her silently backward through a gap in the laurel hedge. “So she would perform for you?”

Ella’s eyes glinted at him. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice that we are now in private, as well as in scandalous proximity? I must return to the house. It’s after midnight, and Jarvis will need me.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re not the housekeeper tonight. You’re Miss Ella St. Trevelyon, whom my father met and told me to marry.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Do you remember meeting a stout gentleman, some years ago? Due to an accident as a boy, he had a silver-topped cane, and he always wore a wig.”

Her eyes widened. “Lord Peregrine! I didn’t remember his name. We played chess!”

“I didn’t know you played, only that you discussed the game.”

“I beat him,” Ella said. “I’m afraid that your father was disgruntled.”