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The moon hunglow in the sky as Logan escorted Amelia to his home. With Finn at the reins and Amelia comfortable within the coach, Logan sat on the driver’s bench, scanning for threats, weapon at the ready. A keen alertness surged through him. Despite a weariness that went bone-deep, his senses were tuned for any sign of danger in the night. Fortunately, their route proved uneventful while the horses clopped a steady path to his townhouse.

Upon their arrival, they were met by a visibly relieved Mrs. Langford at the door. After seeing for herself that they’d returned unscathed from their covert meeting, she poured Amelia a cup of hot chamomile tea and saw her to herbedchamber. Making no secret of his need for sleep, Finn took to another room for a few hours’ rest, while Logan retired to his study.

Retreating to his quiet sanctuary, Logan stripped off his waistcoat, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and poured himself a drink. He leaned against his desk, stretching out his legs as he downed the whisky and stared up at the shadows on the ceiling. A peculiar energy set his mind racing. How in blazes could he protect Amelia against a ruthless cur who operated like an unseen puppet master, pulling the strings of men who did his bidding without revealing his true identity?

Paul’s letters had warned of a clear danger to his sister. But Logan had not expected that Paul would have gotten himself mixed up with brutal thieves and cheats. The web of treachery he’d become trapped within now threatened Amelia.

By hellfire, he’d get to the truth.

He would find the elusive Mr. Hawk. The bastard would pay for what he’d done to Paul. And to Amelia.

The pain on her fairy-delicate features when she’d found her doll torn to pieces had been like a bareknuckle blow to the gut. The curs who’d invaded her library had not merely searched for some blasted hidden treasure. They had inflicted deliberate destruction and chaos. They had wanted to cause fear.

But why? What could the bastard think to gain from terrorizing Amelia?

If Mr. Hawk and the cowards working for him thought Amelia was vulnerable, they’d soon discover she was under his protection. They would learn an ugly lesson, indeed.

Logan took another drink. By hellfire, he would stand by her. He would not—could not—let her down.

When he’d held her in his arms, her irises had darkened to the hue of sapphires fit for a queen’s crown. He’d seen the flicker of heat, an elemental fire she could not entirely hide. Butthere had been more. Something far more rare had glimmered in the depths of her gaze. Without a trace of guile or a hint of an ulterior motive, she had looked at him as a man who would stand at her side, come hell or high water.

In those beautiful blue eyes, he’d seen trust.

In the years since the lass he’d planned to wed had cast aside his love in favor of land and a title, he had realized an ugly truth. Maeve’s pretty words of devotion had suited her purposes. In the end, she’d left his heart battered. Now, he knew better. If a man was smart, he wouldn’t give a damn if a woman—or anyone else for that matter—looked upon him as anything other than a rogue.

But now, Amelia had put her faith in him.

The realization stirred a conviction deep within him. He wanted her to believe in him, to know that he would be there for her. And he would do whatever it took to justify her trust, no matter the cost.

A light tap upon the door tore him from his thoughts. Amelia stood in the entry. “I see you are still awake. I do hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Of course not,” he said. “I thought you’d gone to sleep.”

She shook her head, her unpinned tresses cascading over her shoulders. Tugging on the sash of her deep blue dressing gown, she seemed suddenly self-conscious. “My mind is rather stubborn tonight, I’m afraid. I simply cannot clear my thoughts and drift off.”

“Ye can rest now, Amelia,” he said. “Ye’re safe here.”

“It is not a matter of fear.” She padded over the carpet until she stood not quite within arm’s length. “I have searched my mind, again and again, for some hint Paul might’ve given me, something I may have missed. How could he have kept such a devastating secret? It must have been sheer torment.”

Logan set the tumbler on the desk. “He wanted to protect you.”

“He should’ve trusted me.” Pain gave her voice a smoky tone. “He should have told me he was in a fix. We would have found a way to make it through... before he got himself in too deep.”

“I don’t think he knew yer true strength, Amelia. Ye’re a woman of honesty, of courage.”

Emotion glistened in her eyes. “I would like to believe that’s true.”

He stepped closer, a single footfall, near enough to touch her. Near enough to pull her closer. Near enough to enfold Amelia in his arms and kiss her until any thought of what had happened in the library had been banished to the back of her mind.

“I see yer gentleness... yer vulnerability.” He reached for her, taking his time as he drew tiny circles against her palm. “Yer skin is soft. Smooth as silk. Some might look at that flawlessness and think ye fragile.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before he lifted his gaze to hers. “But I know better. Ye’re a strong woman, Amelia.”

The most subtle of smiles curved her mouth. “You do believe that, don’t you?”

“Aye. Ye’ve a backbone of steel, lass,” he said, releasing her. “Do not ever forget it.”

“I do hope you’re right.”