Adam's carefully placed smile twisted as he stepped into the dim passageway. The footman took off at a brisk pace, and Addie fell in line behind him.

They continued to walk through the echoing halls for a quiet minute until Adam abruptly stopped, twisting to look at her. Addie, unsurprisingly, ran into him. But somehow, he managed to catch her from falling completely. "My apologies," she mumbled and moved to pull away. However, instead of letting her go, Adam's fingers tightened around her arms. His hot breath wafted over her ears, alarming her at how close he was.

"Ya need to be more careful, Addie," he whispered, and Addie knew. She knew this was no playful warning. And though she tensed in response, Addie found herself unable to move or speak. Her tongue caught again as it always used to do when she was nervous, unhelpful and lame. Adam's body pushed into her, an unwelcome and unfriendly presence.

"Ya haven't been here long, so maybe ya don't know how it works," he continued, nearly spitting into her ear. "Pretty little maids shouldn't overstep their place. I've seen the way that ya been speaking with the duke. And now meetings in the library?"

Addie gasped, speechless in horror as his hands moved from her arms to her waist in an unwanted advance.

"Want to be someone's whore, Addie? Pick a man who is more ya own level," he goaded, giving her a squeeze.

Addie broke away quickly at that, her body finally spurring into action to escape the distressing exchange. "Get away from me, Adam," she choked out, pushing past his tightening hands. Surprisingly, he let her go, and Addie nearly tripped over her own feet in her efforts to get away from him.

As soon as she was at least five paces from the footman, Addie wheeled back to ensure he wasn't following her. He wasn't. Appearing unbothered, Adam merely chuckled after her, a peculiar glint in his eyes that made Addie's stomach churn unpleasantly. Clutching her skirts, she tried to keep her hands from shaking.

"That's what I thought," he yelled out at her. "Ya just a ladder climbing urchin, Addie." And with that, Adam walked away.

Addie's feet did not stop moving until she reached the library's double doors. Upon reaching her destination, she forced herself not to burst into the room. Addie longed to fling herself past the doors and collapse in Theo's arms.

She knew that was precisely what Adam had warned her against, but Addie could not help but recognize that Theo was the only person in the world who might be able to comfort her at this moment. He was always so warm, so reassuring and strong.

Addie wished to drown in that warmth and forget the cold touch of Adam's hands on her. She did not know what it was about the Duke of Kingfield, but he was the only one in the past years who had made her feel safe. He was the only one who had made her feel as though she belonged somewhere again. And she could not ignore that. She could not walk away from it.

Addie pushed down the bile that had risen in her throat. She pushed away the thoughts of leering footmen. She pushed everything aside and straightened herself.

And then, once the shaking had subsided, she walked into the library.

****

Theo was not a particularly patient person. But he did not mind awaiting Addie. The anticipation of her arrival was sweet, addicting. He even grabbed a book off the shelf near him and flipped through it, as if he were a man of leisure.

Theo used to be a man of leisure. Or rather, a boy of leisure, after his father had died. Theo would always find shame in the way he had acted in the years following his parents' deaths. Simply put, he was an ass.

Theo's father had been the perfect lord. Or at least, that was what Theo thought. He'd certainly been a caring father and husband. The late Duke of Kingfield was an effective estate owner, fair, but stern, and even dabbled in politics. He'd been dashingly handsome even in his older years, and his green eyes would crinkle with laughter when he looked at his son. And all Theo ever saw when he looked back was perfection.

And so, knowing that he could never hope to live up to the legacy of his father, Theo had turned the other way. He had ran the other way—sprinted headfirst into his rakish ways.

He bedded women he should not have bed. He drank spirits he should not have drank. He gambled money he should not have gambled.

Eventually, Andrew had sat him down and set him straight. Theo was a landowner, after all, and tenants relied on him. His sister relied on him to manage the accounts so that she might marry well. And his parents relied on him to be a good, decent man even after they were gone—as if Theo hadn't known this. As if it hadn't been why he'd run to the clubs and parties instead of to his duties, knowing he could never be that man.

But Andrew had been unrelenting. He would drag Theo out of bed in the morning to drive him around the fields he owned, teaching him how to control what was his. He would show up at the clubs, never allowing Theo to gamble more than was wise, cutting off his liquor when it became too much. Every step of the way, Andrew had been there. He'd been damned irritating at times, or really all the time, but Theo was grateful for it now.

Theo supposed that he could still be considered a man of leisure, but he did also work—and hard. Most afternoons he could be found balancing his ledgers, attending to concerns his tenants had written to him about, making arrangements for necessary repairs to his estate, and deciding upon investment opportunities.

In fact, Theo was proud to admit that while he had inherited a wealthy sum upon the passing of his father, he'd now increased that amount threefold.

Lately, however, Theo's work was taking place later and later in the day due to the time spent in old volumes of history and in the company of a beguiling housemaid. And so, his opportunities to go out at night had dwindled. Surprisingly, Theo missed it very little.

"Your Grace?"

Addie's surprisingly timid voice interrupted Theo's thoughts.

He peered over the edge of his book, meaning to glare at her for the use of his title. But the expression on her face made him pause.

"Addie?"

She drew her arms up, caging them around her body. "You rang for me?"

Theo cleared his throat. "I did."

Despite all the hours they had spent together in this very library, Addie suddenly seemed hesitant to take a step closer. Her feet nudged the fringe on the woven carpet, but she refused to cross the threshold. Instead, she piqued, "How may I be of service?"

Theo could not help but frown at the picture before him. In the recent weeks, he had memorized Addie. He knew her smile and the way it tilted to one side. He knew her self-assured posture and graceful curves. And now here she was, uncertain and shrunken. Tilting his head to the side, Theo asked, "Is everything alright?"

His words seemed to snap Addie out of her withdrawn state. She stepped over the carpet lining the library flooring, practically floating toward him. She walked with an ease that Theo hadn't seen in even the most well-training debutantes, and his frown deepened at the thought.

"Everything is quite fine," Addie said, but he did not miss the slight shake in her voice. She brought herself to stand before his desk. "Did you have need of me, Theo?"

Yes. Lord, yes.

He needed her in every way that he could not have her.

Theo cleared his throat.

"Yes." Theo picked up a stack of papers and slid them across his desk. "Here is my finished report that I intend to give to my friend, Andrew. I would ask that you would give it a read."

Addie tugged her lip into her mouth, teasing at it with her teeth like she always seemed to do when deliberating. Determined to remain unaffected by his maid, Theo stood and strode to the sidebar. He poured himself a drink, and the moment stretched on. Theo was unsure what, precisely, Addie was deliberating, but he was fairly certain it would kill him if she continued to do so in such a taunting way.

Finally, she took the papers from his desk. "May I sit?"

"Naturally." Theo gestured to the settee, and then he watched as the maid perched herself on the edge of the cushions, wrapping her legs in a fashion most demure.

God, what was it about her? Theo found himself wondering what was more pronounced: the sharpness of her tongue or the softness in her movements. It perhaps did not matter, but the combination was utterly alluring and mystifying. Theo found himself stewing upon it as he watched those bright eyes dance across the parchment he'd given her.

Addie eventually finished and peeked up at him. "Your Grace."

At the words, Theo felt his eyes flare wide, and she amended herself with a coy grin. "Theo." Then her smile fell slightly. She took a shaky breath. "I find no flaws in your report, but I implore you to see the repercussions if this information should get out."

Theo crossed the room, moving slowly toward her. Suddenly, he cared very little for the contents of Andrew's report and cared far more for the nature of this woman sitting in his library, casting spells on him with her secrets.

"Surely," he said with a lift of his brow, "there is some merit in the truth, Addie." He paused, watching as her brows furrowed. "Do you not put merit in the truth, my dear?"

Addie was indignant. "Not when the truth could get someone hurt."

Theo continued to stalk in her direction. "And who would get hurt by this?" he asked quietly. And who would get hurt by the secrets that she, herself, carried?

"Well, your friend Andrew, to start," Addie replied plainly.

At that, Theo shook his head. He was finished with lies; he wanted none from her, and he no longer had interest in weaving bits of truth simply to keep his true mission from Addie. There would be no publication, after all. At least not until they had her.

Princess Adelaide.

Theo leaned against the armchair across from Addie and fixed her with a look. "I think I shall tell you the truth, and then you will do the same," he said.

Her eyes grew wide. Blue, wide oceans on the brink of a storm.

What are you hiding, darling?

After clearing his throat, Theo stated, "Andrew does not seek to publish this information. He will be safe, as long as you or I do not give him away."

Addie blinked rapidly and shook her head. "Theo, I have already told you that I would never say anything. But why does he wish for the information, then?"

Theo sipped his scotch. "He believes the princess is alive."

"Yes," Addie hedged, keeping a careful eye on Theo. "You've said as much before."

He watched her back, peering over the edge of his glass. "And he would like me to find her."

Addie's lips parted in a way that Theo might consider damnable if he were not so focused on cracking that facade of hers. And then her head ducked, and she stared down at Theo's report.

"Why?" she asked after a lengthy pause, and Theo was surprised at how bothered by it all she sounded. She drew a shaky sigh. "What can the princess do for us now?"

It was not his intent to make her worry in such a way. So he replied softly, quietly. "She can give us hope." A silent moment went by before Theo added, "Addie, I want you to know that you are safe here. I know what I have told you is..." He trailed off, searching for the correct word.

"Treasonous?" Addie supplied, glancing up and raising her brows.

He winced at the word. "Yes...but you must trust me."

"I do trust you," she said.

Her expression was earnest as she said the words, and it drove Theo wild. Because if she trusted him, if she truly put her trust in him as he did her, she would tell him. She would spill whatever it was about her past that she did not wish for him to know. It was not his mere curiosity that urged his desire. He wished to help free her from whatever role she was playing. Or rather, from whatever had forced her into it.

"And can I trust you, Addie?" he finally asked.

She blinked several times before setting his report aside. She stood up and responded with clarity. "Yes." Addie took a bold step toward him, and Theo found himself moving in her direction. His feet and heart were in tune, whilst his mind had long abandoned hope.

Addie was a mere breath away from him now, and Theo studied her with rapt attention. She shivered, perhaps at his nearness or perhaps from a draft, he did not know. Candlelight flickered, and it was reflected upon her beautiful, bewitching face. Her brows drew together as her eyes searched his face.

"Theo, what is wrong?" she asked. Her voice was breathless, and Theo longed to capture the rest of her breath as well.

He could no longer leave well enough alone. Theo leaned in even closer and with a low growl whispered, "What is wrong? You are. I know you are hiding something from me. I know I shouldn't be here with you, and you shouldn't be here with me. But I cannot help it."

Theo thought perhaps she might leave, or at the very least withdraw from his gaze's grasp.

But no.

Instead, Addie sealed their fate.

She leaned into Theo, and he could resist no more.