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“Is that so?”
“Frankly, I couldn’t imagine being apart from Emmeline for that long.”
“Love can make a man act irrationally.”
Coming to sit across from his brother, Oliver replied, “Or it can give a man clarity in his life. To focus on what is truly important.”
“You have become sentimental, Brother,” Baldwin joked.
Oliver took a sip of his drink before lowering it to his lap. “I suppose I have.”
Baldwin gave him a pointed look. “I do encourage you not to get lackadaisical. That can get you killed.”
“You need not fear on that account,” Oliver said. “Now that I have secured Emmeline’s love, I feel as if there is nothing that I cannot do.”
“Just be careful,” Baldwin urged.
“I will,” Oliver replied. “After all, I have never had so much to live for before.”
With her handsclasped in her lap, Emmeline stared out the window of the coach as she thought of all the ways that her upcoming meeting with her aunt could end in disaster.
“Are you nervous, my dear?” Oliver asked in an amused voice.
She shifted her gaze towards her husband. “Perhaps we should forego calling on my aunt today.”
“Is that what you would like to do?”
Emmeline shook her head. “No,” she replied. “I suppose I am simply worried about her reaction to seeing me.”
“It will be all right.”
“How can you say that?” she asked. “I killed my uncle.”
“You are a hero.”
“I don’t feel that way.”
Oliver reached for her hand. “You saved my life.”
Emmeline’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she stared into her husband’s eyes. “Only after you saved me.”
“Regardless, we saved each other,” Oliver said.
“That we did.”
“But as far as everyone is concerned,” Oliver started, “it was I that killed your uncle.”
She gave him a baffled look. “How is that possible?”
“The constable and I agreed that it was best if I was responsible for Lord Taylor’s death,” he revealed. “We wanted to save you from the malicious gossip of theton.”
“That was most thoughtful of you.”
“I also received word this morning that the vicar finally gave up the name of the other person in the smuggling ring.”
“He did?”
He nodded. “It was a footman at Lockhart Manor,” he responded. “He listened in on our conversations, helped transport the smuggled goods, and he was responsible for letting your attacker in.”
