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until after I complete my correspondence?” Harry requested mockingly. “I am sadly behind and can think of at least a half dozen people who would be sorely put out if I were to stick my spoon in the wall before writing off a final farewell.”
    “You can write all the letters you wish in your carriage as it pulls away from Falstone,” Adam grumbled, brushing past Harry and Persephone as he continued toward the corridor that led to his book room.
    “I do not have a carriage,” Harry called after him.
    “You can use one of mine,” Adam answered without looking back.
    “You are nothing if not a model of hospitality.” Harry laughed as Adam stepped down the hall.
    “Is he actually making you leave?” Adam heard Persephone ask, her tone one of confusion and concern.
    “No. He’s just cutting a sham.”
    Adam clenched his fists. Why did Harry insist on sounding like an idiot? “Cut the cant, Harry,” Adam bellowed back at him, “and write your blasted letters.”
    To which, of course, Harry laughed.
    Adam didn’t pause but continued toward his book room.
    “Adam?”
    He stopped at the sound of Persephone’s voice. Adam let out a breath of frustration. Couldn’t he have a moment’s peace?
    “Yes, Persephone?” He turned just enough to see her out of the corner of his left eye. He was steps from his book room. Couldn’t this have waited?
    She seemed to hesitate for a moment. “May I please have the map back?”
    The deuced map again. “No lady should require a map for her own house.”
    “Unless that house is the size of a small village,” Persephone answered with something like exasperation.
    “Falstone Castle is laid out logically,” Adam replied shortly. This wasn’t so very difficult. “All of the public rooms are on the ground level. The first floor,” Adam gestured around them, “holds the living areas: dining hall, breakfast room, and so on. The second floor is the family bedchambers. Third floor, the nursery. Fourth and fifth floors and three of the four towers house the guest bedchambers. It is not so confusing that one ought to be required to carry around a map.”
    “Perhaps not after some time,” Persephone persisted.
    “You know the castle well enough to get around on your own,” Adam insisted, still not looking at her full-on. “You will learn the rest far faster if you must find your way using your own observations and memory.”
    “I would feel more confident if I had the map with me should I need it,” Persephone said. “I haven’t been relying on it this past day or so, only checking it occasionally.”
    “Then you do not need it now.”
    “Why are you so insistent about this?” Persephone asked, her tone gaining a hint of urgency. “I don’t understand. It seems such a trivial thing.”
    “Did you use a map in your home in Shropshire?” Adam asked, frustrated at her insistence. He was accustomed to simply being obeyed. Dukes always are.
    “No, of course not.”
    “If one does not know a house, it cannot be one’s home,” Adam said.
    “You wish me to feel at home here?” she asked with obvious doubt.
    Feel at home? Adam instantly bristled at the sentimentality of that phrase. “I only wish for you not to stick out,” he answered sharply. “There are enough reasons why our situation is . . .” He was suddenly struggling with his composure, something he rarely experienced. Adam shifted enough to be looking away from her and found it helped. “. . . ridiculous,” he finally finished the phrase, “without making the flaws so obvious.”
    He heard Persephone take a tight breath and release it shakily. “I have been trying,” she said. “But there is a lot to learn.”
    “Then perhaps you should get on with the learning and leave me be.” Adam found the necessity of talking while looking away from his conversational partner grating.
    “Your Grace?” That was Barton’s well-modulated voice.
    “What?” Adam snapped.
    “Mr. Jones is below. He claims