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His smile is quick and brilliant. “I think it’s time for my bride to choose her new home.”

Excitement sings through Nadia’s veins, and it must show upon her face, for Theodore lets out a great laugh.

“See, I knew it’d make you feel better. Come, let’s grab your shawl and be off. Mrs. Wilkinson has already prepared lunch for us, and we’ve a number of manors to see, so make haste.” He leans in and presses a polite kiss to her cheek, then takes her by the arm and leads her back toward the house and the other Rosettis.

“Miss Magdalena,” Lord Rosetti says, a glimmer in his green eyes as they approach. “Now that your guests have departed, I’d hoped to discuss my findings with you.” He looks between her and Theodore as the other Rosettis head back into the manor. “Do you have a moment?”

“Of course,” Nadia says. “What did you discover?”

Lord Rosetti clasps his hands behind his back and straightens his shoulders. “I was able to analyze the broken teacup, and it validates our theories. The tonic contained a concoction of herbs, blood, and toxins.”

“Toxins?”

A shiver goes down Nadia’s spine.

So, her father was poisoning her, then. It shouldn’t surprise her—after all, he killed her parents and tried to have Theodore assassinated—but somehow, it does.

Lord Rosetti nods, the excitement in his eyes dimming. “It had plenty of garlic, which leads me to believe the hunters think us susceptible to it.” He chuckles as if humored by their mistake. “They are, however, correct about our vulnerability to silver, traces of which I detected on the porcelain.”

Beside Nadia, Theodore stiffens. “What does all of this mean?” he asks. “Lord Gray made Miss Magdalena drink it every day. What was his intention?”

Lord Rosetti looks from Theodore to Nadia, his eyes softening. “I hypothesize the garlic and silver were used to keep you weak, the small trace of blood kept you from losing yourself to thirst, and the other herbs were intended simply to disguise the stronger flavors and perhaps to make the tonic more palatable.”

Remembering the overwhelming flavor of garlic, Nadia wrinkles her nose, and the earl smiles.

“Yes, I suppose it was not so palatable after all. This discovery, though, could encourage the brotherhood to open the investigation into your parents’ deaths, not to mention the attack by the hunter.” A sudden darkness comes over Lord Rosetti’s eyes, and his hands curl into fists at his sides. “They’ll have no choice but to respond after such an unabashed act of violence.”

Nadia hangs her head, a wave of guilt washing over her. “I’m so sorry, my lord. It’s my fault the viscount was injured.” She glances quickly at Theodore. “Lord Gray sent that man after him because of me.”

“And it’s because ofyouthat I survived.” Theodore’s voice is soft, almost sensual enough to make Nadia blush.

Lord Rosetti clears his throat. “This is not your fault, my dear. You’ve been a pawn in many games, and none of it is your doing.”

The reassurance brings her a moment’s respite, and she nods her head, quickly swiping the moisture from her eyes before casting her gaze up at the earl and giving him a small smile.

“Much better,” he says, his expression one of warmth. “Now, don’t let me keep you any longer. I hear you’ve got homes to visit.” After clapping Theodore on the shoulder, the earl turns on his heel and heads toward the manor.

“Are you all right?” Theodore says after his father has gone.

Nadia nods, drawing herself up. “Yes. It shouldn’t have come as a shock—I knew Lord Gray was harming me with that concoction—but somehow... it still hurts.”

Tears fill her eyes once more, and she struggles to keep them at bay.

But then Theodore’s arms are around her, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. His lips in her hair, he whispers, “It’s over now, and I’ll keep you safe. Always.”

Some hours later, the sunis starting to slip from the sky just as the carriage rolls up at the last of three empty manors owned by the Rosetti family. The first two were intimidating in their grandeur, filled with empty rooms and far too much space, but this one feels different even before Nadia has stepped from the carriage.

The footman comes around to open the door for her, and as she steps out, she cannot tear her eyes from the beautiful manor standing before her. It sits at the end of a long curving drive and is surrounded by gardens. The courtyard features a large mature elm tree, which at this time of year is bright yellow and gold. Leaves blanket the grass around the tree and shift in the cool breeze, making a soft skittering sound as they drift across the ground.

“Well? What do you think?” Theodore asks as he steps out of the carriage and comes to stand beside Nadia. “It sits on eighty-eight acres for grazing and hay production. Look just there.” He places one hand upon the small of her back and points off into the distance with the other.

Small white specks move slowly around the pasture, and when Nadia realizes what they are, she gasps. “Sheep! Oh, howlovely. I wonder what Octavia would think of a sheep.” Her laughter is light and easy, and Theodore smiles as he turns to face the house.

“It has seven bedrooms, one of which could easily be converted into a nursery.” His glance is quick and powerful, and Nadia’s core warms with delight. “The main wing was built in the 1600s,” he continues, striding toward the house and gesturing at the stone architecture. “But my father had it renovated and an additional wing added.”

The viscount clasps his hands behind his back as he gazes up at the manor. The long shadows and golden light of an approaching dusk fill Nadia with a feeling of nostalgia. She embraces that feeling—that odd sensation of quiet loneliness—as she looks upon Theodore’s sharp, handsome face, and without even stepping into the home, she knows this is the one.

“That elm,” she says, nodding toward the big beautiful tree.