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He drew her into a kiss and her resolve almost faltered, but tempting as it would be to lose herself in Gavin’s arms and shut out the turmoil of the afternoon, she couldn’t.

She broke away from his embrace by leaning back in his arms. “Gavin, when are we returning to Edinburgh?”

When he pursed his lips together, her heart sank.

“I don’t know.”

She shook her head. “Our home is in Scotland.”

His hands slipped a little to frame her hips. At any other time the gesture would have felt intimate, but now, with the question of their future hanging between them, it felt as though he was pulling away and letting go.

“I have responsibilities here,” he said.

“And what of your responsibilities at home? The house. Your friends. Your work for the Lothian. Aren’t those important too?”

And isn’t your promise to me important as well?

Guilt settled around her like a heavy cloak. She had no hold over him other than the vows they’d exchanged under duress. Who was she to say what he should do with his life or where he should live?

“Things are more complicated now,” he said, averting his gaze. “There are people depending on me now and in the future. I’m just a custodian of Oak Park, and I need to see to it that my heir receives the estate in better condition than I have.”

His heir. They’d agreed they wouldn’t have children, but that had been before, when it had seemed impossible that their arrangement wouldn’t be one of friendship and companionship. Even now, when they sought passion in each other’s arms, they still hadn’t spoken of the fact that every time Gavin would pull out of her right at the moment of climax. She didn’t know how to speak of it when she didn’t know her own feelings about the matter, and so she simply hadn’t.

Now that he was the baronet of Oak Park, he’d surely be thinking of children. Children that would tie them even closer to this house, for she had no doubt Lady Sophia would find a way to insist any heir be raised here so he could be taught in the model of Richard. Hadn’t Gavin told her his brother had twenty years of training when he’d died?

“You’re frightening me, Gavin,” she managed through the emotion lodged in her throat.

“What is there to be frightened about?” he asked, his voice softening.

“I don’t want to stay here. You don’t know what it’s like in this house.”

“I know my mother is difficult—”

“She’s a nightmare come to life,” Ina said.

He sighed. “Things will get better when she moves to the dower house.”

A move that was supposed to have happened at the end of the previous week.

“What if it isn’t a permanent change?” he asked. “What if it’s only for a few months?”

She shook her head. Novelty could become habit in a few months. Intentions to leave could be superceded by excuses to stay.

“This might’ve been your home once, but it’s never been mine. I’m meant to be in Edinburgh. The city is everything to me. It’s where my friends are and yours too. It’s where my art is. I have to get back to my sculpture.”

“I know you’re worried about the exhibition, but perhaps this isn’t the best year for you to enter.”

She pushed away from him, and when he tried to keep his hold on her she shoved his arms away and slid off his lap to sit next to him. “You don’t want me to enter the competition?”

He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s not a matter of wanting. Of course I want you to enter, but I don’t see how it’ll work.”

“Quite simply. We go back home.”

“Ina,” he said in a warning tone.

“Or I go back home. I don’t need you there to sculpt. I can finish and make the arrangements for transportation. It’ll just be a month.”

“I need you here,” he said, his voice strained.