Page 92

His gaze stayed fixed on her face, tension between his brows. Was that worry? Or fear? She could not decipher the look.

"I am quite well now," she insisted. "Truly. You must not look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I am made of spun sugar and shall melt at a single drop of water."

He let out a sound somewhere between a breath and a laugh. "Temperance. I was frightened out of my mind."

Her smile faded.

"When you went down," he said, and his voice was not steady, "I thought... I thought perhaps you had been poisoned. That the person trying to kill me had finally reached me, through you. And now that the doctor has confirmed the possibility of an heir, if it is Everly, he will not hesitate to remove you from his path, too." He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, as though to reassure himself that she was real and she was alive. "I have men watching his lodgings, but he can hire more ruffians. I cannot protect you every minute of every day. Not here."

A cold feeling crept up her spine. "What do you mean?"

"You need to return to Sutton Hall."

Sutton Hall.

The place that should have been her home was, to her, synonymous with a gaol.

He was exiling her again.

And he was not even certain she was with child.

"I see," Temperance said, pulling her hands out of his and pushing herself upright against the pillows. "So just like that. Our pact is done, and you are sending me off."

Sutton flinched. "You know that is not why."

"Do I?"

He swallowed. "You ought to."

There was a long pause. The fire popped in the grate. He rose, crossed to it, and stood with his back to her, one hand braced on the mantel.

"This month we have spent together was not perfect," he said to the hearth. Then he turned, and his eyes burned brighter than any fire could. "But it was... it was perfect for me. I learned a great deal about you, as you did about me. I hope you will believe me when I say that those bitter seven years of your absence were nothing compared to the half a minute you lay unconscious. I do not want to lose you again. But if I must relinquish you to keep you safe, I shall do so a million times over."

"You are saying goodbye," she said, her voice hoarse.

Her throat burned.

He nodded. "I shall have a carriage ready for you on the morrow."

Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to protest, but he did not let her.

"I hope to put this to rest soon, to find proof of Everly's doing and see him arrested. But I do not know how long that will take. You will be surrounded by my most trusted men. Whitlow will accompany you, with a fleet of outriders."

"I do not want to leave you." She whispered the words she should have said seven years ago, instead of leaving a note on a pillow. "I want to stay with you."

He came back to the bed, sat, and took her hand, cradling it in both of his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His lips were not quite steady. "It is not safe."

"Then it is not safe for you either."

"No, but we must both think of our possible heir..." His voice broke. He cleared his throat. "Our child."

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dear husband,