Page 40 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

“Noble of you, Zeph. But not easy to do.”

“It is.”

“What happens when you set them free? Hell! This was not what I wished to discuss! If you let them go, your tobacco crops die. Your land lies fallow. Your income stops. Furthermore, and just as important, those freed men and women now have no way to support themselves. No money to buy food or shelter. No positions to—”

She put up a hand. “I hear you. I do. I did have thoughts on that before I went to the dungeons where Vaillancourt thought I would die for him. Never doubt, about the men and women in my service, that I will resume my thinking and make a proper and useful plan for them.”

“The solicitor we consulted the other day may have knowledge of how to deal with that. But that is for later. Your first priority is to learn how to deal with your new status as the wealthiest heiress in Britain.”

She laughed. “I have seen houses here three times the size of my father’s, more grand than any manor house in the Tidewater. But nothing to rival the splendor of what I can only assume lies behind London’s closed doors. Do pardon me if I say, surely you jest.”

He fixed her with harsh certainty. “Not a bit.”

She inhaled and shifted in her chair. “So tell me then what eats at you. Go on.”

“There are many ways to learn how to navigate the ton.”

“Yes. So? I navigated Parisian Society. How different can London be?”

“Paris was a beginning. You were a young woman with a few good social connections.”

She arched her long red brows at him and knew the portrait she sent him of her determination. “Countess Nugent, Queen Hortense, and Caroline Bonaparte are three of the finest connections.”

“Yes. And they kept you safe from predators.”

“Not Vaillancourt, they didn’t.”

Rafe grimaced. “You did that to yourself. You stole his betting book.”

She scanned the room. She held back declarations she was too afraid to voice. But, ignoring mention of her second little book, she faced him.

He seemed to flinch.

Did he perceive her secret?

No. No!

“What you will have here in London, Zephora Butler, is a mountain of invitations to every event the whole of British Society has to offer.”

“And the problem there is…?”

He blew out a breath. “You will need guidance on whom and what to accept.”

“I shall take them all.”

“Not wise, Zeph. Not wise at all. You will spend your every waking moment dining, drinking, dancing, and ducking those who would demand your favor.” He sighed. “You need to know whose invitations to accept. Whose to decline. Particularly whom to dance with, whom to talk to and walk with into the moonlight.”

What if I only want to talk and walk into the moonlight with you?

He looked away.

She wanted him looking at her. “Why would I walk into the moonlight? I have no desire to claim any beau.” Only you.

“You will.”

“You do not know that.”

“I do! You are young and your body can lead you to want affection and caresses. It is natural.”