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No escape then. ‘His gain, my loss. But when your contract ends?’

‘I will consider it.’ Luke rose. Alistair remained where he was, knowing Julia would have his hide if he so much as raised an eyebrow. Luke leaned over him and kissed his forehead. ‘Welcome home, Alistair.’

‘Better late than never,’ he growled, slapping his brother on the shoulder, but he could not help feeling pleased.

When he had gone, Alistair smiled tenderly at his wife. He knew it was a tender smile, because he felt exceptionally tender. And worried. ‘We need to talk.’

She inclined her head, but her expression boded ill.

* * *

‘I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, Alistair,’ Julia said, trying not to let her anxiety show, to continue to act the convenient practical wife as long as she remained under his roof, ‘but I really think your stepmother had lost her reason. Yet she was clever, too. And ruthless.’ Something the woman had accused Alistair of, but Julia knew it wasn’t true. Had known it in her heart. She was babbling in the face of the far more important things that needed to be said. Things that would decide her fate.

She launched into the speech she’d been preparing in her mind all day. ‘I should go. I cannot bear the thought of you being shamed because of me. Someone else may recognise me.’

‘No. If you had not come back...I owe you my life.’

‘As I owe you mine. There are no debts between us.’

Alistair pushed himself up and reached for her hand. ‘Julia.’

She revelled in the warmth of his palm on her skin. She quelled the urge to rest her cheek against his thigh. ‘The doctor said you were not to exert yourself.’

‘I am well enough to exert myself with you, my love.’

She froze. ‘I didn’t think to hear you ever say that.’

‘What, “exert”?’

She gave him a little shove with her shoulder. ‘Not that.’

‘Oh, you mean “my love”.’

His voice was droll. Not possible. Her husband was never droll, though he was occasionally sweet.

The back of her eyes burned. She blinked hard and turned her face away. ‘You shouldn’t say things you do not mean.’ Dash it, she sounded teary, when she had meant to sound teasing.

‘And if I do?’

Perhaps teasing was not such a good idea after all. ‘Your moods change like the weather.’

‘You are a good woman, Julia,’ he said softly.

‘Tell that to the lace merchant in Cheapside. But for you I would have gone to prison or worse and now you are stuck with me as a wife and little chance of a true heir to your name. I should never have let you save me.’

He pressed his lips to the back of her hand. ‘I would not give up one moment of these past few weeks with you in my life.’

The feel of his lips warm and dry against her skin made her eyes burn more. ‘Nor I.’

He gazed at her steadily, but deep within his cool gaze, his shield against hurt, she sensed longing. ‘Why did you come back?’ he asked.

She hesitated, fearing his scorn. ‘I was not speaking the truth when I said I cared for you.’

Hurt flashed in his eyes, a regretful smile formed on his thin lips. ‘I deserve that.’

‘Oh, no. I didn’t mean it that way. I—’

He rubbed circles on her back and she wanted to arch like a cat. And possibly purr. How did he know exactly the right spot to caress? ‘It is all right, Julia. I understand. I would like us to remain friends, if that is at all possible.’