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woman. There was no doubt in her mind that Richard would learn to be the gentleman. She would accept nothing less. Only when he could prove his worth would she leave the door to her chamber unlocked for his admittance.
    A smile lifted her lips. With an anxiousness that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with outsmarting her husband, Emma stood from the settee and walked over to the bell pull. Dinner would be an interesting affair with so many people in the house. It had been an age since company had come. She wasn’t one to entertain. But this was different. This was her husband.
    She always made the best out of a terrible situation, like when her husband had left after their wedding night. He hadn’t thought it necessary to tell her he had no intention of living with her. Instead, he’d penned a note to his father explaining that he’d done his duty as future earl and had made use of his wife as was expected.
    She’d read that letter outlining that private fact in amongst the stacks Richard’s father kept locked in one of the desk drawers. At the time, it had been humiliating to realize Richard had never held her in any esteem. Humiliating to know he’d shared that private information with his father.
    That letter no longer existed. It had been turned to ash long ago. But the memory of it burned clear in her mind to this day.
    *   *   *
    “Are the Mediterranean seas truly full of pirates?” Grace’s expression was full of wonder as she gazed upon Richard in hope of a good story. A romantic story, by the wistful gleam in her eyes.
    Emma hated that both her sisters seemed to adore Richard’s company.
    “There are. We were guarded on our trade routes, so I’ve met few in my travels.”
    “Such a shame,” Abby said. “I had hoped to hear of a grand adventure.”
    Emma admitted she wanted to hear a story to highlight the reasons he’d stayed away for so long. She’d not voice that aloud. Not yet.
    “I wanted a romance on the high seas.” Grace stared back down at her food, picking through the green beans with her fork.
    “I doubt Asbury has any decent tales for a lady’s ears,” Mr. Lioni said.
    One would think that a decade of travel would have stored up its fair share of anecdotes. Emma looked down the long table to her husband. He was not smiling at Mr. Lioni’s observation or laughing with her sisters who were in want of a good tale. He took a healthy gulp of his wine and another bite of the pheasant on his plate.
    “Are there really no stories to impart after all these years, Richard?” Emma asked, truly curious.
    “Maybe one.”
    “Do tell us,” Grace chimed in, her dinner forgotten as she leaned forward on her elbows.
    “It is a romance, but I’m afraid I’ll have to edit out a great deal of the subject matter for the more delicate ears present.” Richard placed his glass on the table and leaned in closer. “I met up with a friend of old some seven years back. He leads a very private life, so I’ll not share his name.”
    “What if we promise not to tell a soul?” Abby pleaded.
    “I’ll still not reveal his name.” Richard raised one brow, daring Abby to say more. For once, she didn’t. “The story begins in China.”
    “China,” all three Hallaways said at the same time.
    Richard chuckled. “Yes, most of my travels sent me through the Orient.”
    Emma hadn’t known that. How could she when her husband never wrote to tell her? A pang of something akin to jealousy had her tightening her grip on her fork. Her sisters would know as much about Richard as she. It simply wasn’t fair.
    Grace sat back with a sigh. Abby stared raptly at Richard. Mr. Lioni smiled as he ate another mouthful of the bird the cook had prepared.
    “I was traveling along a common trade route and stopped at a familiar…” He hesitated, tapping at his chin. “Inn.”
    Probably not an inn at all, Emma thought, considering where they’d run into each other a few nights ago.
    “He was