“Ah, have you learned nothing about me?” she queried as they stepped out to the hallway and took the stairs. “I prefer not to dream. It makes waking so depressing.”

“One day all will be well,” he promised in a low, assured tone. “I promise you.”

She yawned and then gasped as she was swung up into powerful arms. Within moments she was tucked into bed with a quick good-night kiss pressed to her forehead. As Simon retired, the soft click of the adjoining door made relaxation possible.

But it was a different set of blue eyes that followed her into sleep.

“Good evening, sir.”

Christopher nodded at his butler. From his drawing room on the left, raucous laughter spilled out of the open double doors to fill the entryway where he stood.

“Send Philip to me directly,” he ordered softly, handing over his hat and gloves.

“Yes, sir.”

Crossing to the stairs, he passed the boisterous group of his men and their companions. They called out to him, and he paused a moment on the threshold, his gaze moving over the assembled crowd he considered his family. They were celebrating his release-the luck of the devil, they said-but work awaited him. There was much he needed to ascertain and accomplish if he wished to ensure his present state of freedom.

“Enjoy yourselves,” he urged before taking the stairs with shouted protests following him to the second floor.

He reached his rooms and, with the help of his valet began to undress. He was shrugging free of his waistcoat when the young man he had requested rapped lightly on the door and then entered at his behest.

“What have you learned?” Christopher asked without preliminaries.

“About as much as one could expect to learn in the space of a day.” Philip tugged at his cravat and started pacing, his pale green coat and breeches a stark contrast to the stamped leather that lined the walls.