Page 38 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

Her breath was a delicate whisper against his ear. “It was fate.”

“Mmm. I remember. Something to do with our having both gone to see the Koh-i-Noor in the summer of ’51, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.” And he wasn’t. His heart was too full, the moment too perfect.

Their fingers intertwined and he leaned forward to brush his lips over her brow.

He didn’t believe in fate. He didn’t trust it. The universe had never dropped good fortune into his lap. The only luck he’d ever had was what he’d made for himself. Even then, success had often left him hollow.

If she wanted to believe they’d been fated to meet, he wouldn’t argue. But he had no illusions. He recognized their union for exactly what it was. It wasn’t fate or destiny or providence. It was blind chance. As fleeting and ephemeral as a vapor of ether.

He intended to savor every precious second of it.

“I’m a cad,” he said several kisses later. They were both breathing heavily. “I’ll keep you here until the weather makes it impossible to return.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He kissed her once more. “I can be quite ruthless when it comes to getting what I want. Make no mistake.”

“And what you want is to remain here at the hotel.”

“And you want to return to the Abbey.”

“I do,” she said. “I know it’s silly, but I feel safe there. I can’t explain it.”

Justin didn’t require an explanation. He already knew how much she valued her safety. It was why she’d married him. Not because she cared for him, nor even because she found him particularly attractive. It was because she needed a man to protect her. And Finchley, for whatever reason, had promised her that Justin was that man.

“He told me that Mr. Thornhill had been a soldier,” he’d heard her say to Boothroyd. “And that he knew how to keep a woman safe.”

Bitterness swirled like acid in his stomach. He felt all at once the full weight of his responsibility for her—and the full extent of his own unworthiness. If she trusted him at all, it was only because she didn’t know him. He’d kept the worst of himself locked away. His past couldn’t bear close scrutiny. And if ever he shared it with her…

Well. It certainly wouldn’t inspire the sort of tender embraces they were enjoying now.

“Are you certain you’re up to the journey?” he asked. “It’s thirteen miles of poor road.”

“I can manage.”

“Then I’d best send for the coach before the weather worsens.” He moved to release her, but she squeezed his hands, her expression uncertain.

“You really don’t mind, Justin?”

He minded like the very devil. He only hoped he didn’t show it. “No, I don’t mind.” He raised one of her hands to his lips, adding, “At the moment, I have the rather imbecilic idea that I’d do anything in the world to make you happy.”

And so he would.

Three quarters of an hour later saw them bundled in the coach and on the road back to King’s Abbot. The rain was unrelenting, making the drive along the cliff’s edge a far more delicate business that it was in less treacherous weather. The coachman held the horses back to a walk on the turnings and, by the time they arrived at the Abbey, the sun was sinking.

They were greeted in the entry hall by Mr. Boothroyd and Neville, along with the elderly cook, Mrs. Whitlock, and the new housekeeper, Mrs. Standish. Mrs. Standish looked at Helena down the length of her nose. She was retiring for the night, or so she informed her, and didn’t wish to be disturbed.

“I’ve been given the evening off,” she said, “to allow me time to settle into my quarters.”

Mrs. Whitlock was somewhat more welcoming. She was also slightly inebriated, the faint scent of cooking sherry lingering about her wiry person. She promised them stew for their supper and fresh bread and butter before teetering back to the kitchen below.

Helena watched the two women leave with a sense of chagrin. She’d expected that one of them would show her to her room. And she’d cherished some small hope of ordering a bath.

If she hadn’t been feeling so dreadfully vulnerable at the hotel, she might have taken advantage of their excellent plumbing and had a bath there. As it was, she’d been unable to stop thinking about who might be staying in the other rooms. Countless strangers, any one of whom might recognize her.