His Lady Fair. Margo Maguire

present that impostors would begin to seep through the woodwork and try to lay claim to the Sterlyng fortune.

      And so the discussion went, until all the men returned to the keep for refreshments, then to their chambers to rest before the evening’s entertainments. Nicholas paced the floor of his private study on the main floor of the keep.

      ’Twas his favorite room, the office, as his father had called it. Here was the collection of books his grandfather had begun decades before, and to which his father and he had added precious tomes throughout the years. There were various Hawken keepsakes stored here, as well, under lock and key. Business was discussed here with Nick’s steward, and ’twas in this chamber that he reviewed important lawsuits brought by the people of the village.

      Here, in the office, was where he’d barely reined in his desire for the lovely Lady Maria.

      Nicholas did not want to think about the Duke of Sterlyng anymore. He had no interest in trying to wheedle information from his guests while playing the debauched nobleman.

      Lady Maria had his full attention.

      He gave a moment’s thought to the clothes he’d put at her disposal—clothes that would have belonged to Edmund’s wife, had his brother married Alyce.

      Lady Alyce had been a charming girl, the daughter of a neighboring earl. Yet Nicholas could not recall that she had ever looked as well in deep blue as Lady Maria did. Or that Alyce had ever filled out a gown as enticingly. He could not think of Alyce as anything other than the child who’d grown into the young lady Edmund had loved.

      Nick certainly could not have imagined Alyce in the wispy gown that had slipped from Maria’s shoulders the night before as he carried her to her bed.

      He shuddered with the memory of that moment.

      And tried to think of a way to keep his preoccupation with Lady Maria at bay.