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Don’t make me remember.

“Shh…” he said from the darkness. The rocking motion soothing her overwrought nerves. “I’m here. I’m not going to let anybody hurt you.”

His voice was low, pleasant… soothing. She moved and shifted in the tight grasp, her fingers curling into the thick fabric of his waistcoat.

And then she felt it against her palm. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

A heartbeat. His.

Strong, steady.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

It pulsed against her fingertips. She focused on it, matching her breath to the rhythm.

One beat at a time, reality slid back into place.

The scent of masculine cologne, rain, and musk filled her senses.

She blinked slowly, seeing the small blobs of light.

Then, the darkness faded away.

Thorn sat on the floor, cradling her in his lap. Her hands fisted in his waistcoat, her face tucked into the crook of his neck.

Safe. She was safe.

The door creaked open. The servants entered with steaming water, filling the bath.

Lydia stirred, making to move, but Thorn’s arms only tightened.

“Shh. Stay,” he whispered into her hair.

And she did.

She didn’t think she could move even if she wanted to. But also… she didn’t want to.

* * *

Thorn rocked Lydia in his arms, trying to slow her racing heartbeat. She had been shaking at first, her eyes frantic, her breath uneven. But after a few moments, she seemed to have calmed. She was getting warmer, too. He pressed his lips against her hair, breathing in her scent, holding her close to his heart.

What happened? Did this place bring back too many bad memories for her?

Selfishly, he hadn’t even thought about that before.

He had always romanticized their time together—stealing kisses, whispering conversations, spending precious nights in each other’s arms.

But that time couldn’t have been easy for Lydia.

She had been a maid. She had carried heavy loads, scrubbed floors, and washed dishes all day, and at night, instead of collapsing onto her bed in exhaustion, she had come to him.

God.

How could he have been so self-absorbed?

The nights he had spent teaching her letters, she had likely fought to stay awake, forcing her mind to stay sharp when all it wanted was rest.

She had done it to be closer to him. And so had he. But he had been young and thoughtless. He could have tried to ease her burden.