Yet it was not as if he'd bumped into her around every corner. Indeed, the only times he'd seen her at all the past four days had been during dinner when the entire family had gathered in the formal dining room. And those four occasions had been nothing short of hell.

She'd sat across from him, wearing her damn black gowns, looking increasingly pale and drawn each night, partaking in conversation, but her efforts were clearly forced. And while his eyes were drawn to her again and again, she never looked at him-except for that one instant when their gazes had met, clearly accidentally on her part, this evening.

The effect of connecting with her golden-brown gaze had been like a blow to the heart. Everything faded away except her. For a breathless moment, he'd waited, hoping, praying, to see a spark in her eyes, some indication that she missed him. Wanted him. Loved him.

Instead, she'd lowered her lashes, hiding her eyes, and had applied her attention to her dinner, her utter rejection simply another blow to his already battered heart.

With each passing day it grew increasingly more impossible for him to pretend that everything was all right. Not when everything was so very wrong. He'd spent a good deal of the last four years managing to put on a happy, smiling front when inside he was torn up with guilt, but now, laughter felt simply beyond him. For his family's sake, he tried, but he knew everyone was aware something was amiss, knew his family was concerned. He could see it in their eyes, hear it in Mother's and Caroline's voices when they'd hesitantly asked him if he was all right. He'd tried his best to reassure them, but he suspected he'd failed. Just as he'd failed at everything that mattered lately.

A noise near the doorway caught his attention, and he turned his head.

"May I join you?" came Austin's voice from the darkness.

Robert swallowed a sigh. He did not want company. Did not want to make conversation. Unfortunately, thanks to his freedom with the brandy, he also felt most disinclined to rise from his chair.

"Of course," he said, hoping Austin was not in a talking mood.

"Would you care for a brandy?"

Robert tossed back the swallow remaining in his snifter. "Absolutely. Bring the decanter."

He heard Austin cross the room. The clink of crystal, followed by the quiet splash of brandy pouring into the sniffer. Then Austin joined him by the fire, refilling his glass with a generous hand. He settled himself in the wing chair opposite Robert.

Robert nodded his thanks and swallowed a hefty gulp, relishing the fiery burn in his throat. The embers glowing in the grate were starting to merge together in his vision. Good. Maybe soon he'd find the oblivion he sought.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Austin asked quietly.

He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Not particularly."

Nearly a minute of blessed silence passed. Then Austin asked, "Would you care to hear my observations?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Only if you leave the room. And judging by your slouched posture and slurred speech, that isn't likely to happen."

Robert waved his hand in a rolling motion. "By all means. Observe away."

"All right. Both you and Mrs. Brown are utterly, abysmally miserable. Your comments?"

"I cannot speak for her. But in my case, you are correct. I am utterly, abysmally miserable. And not nearly drunk enough to forget it." He poured another swallow of brandy down his throat.

"And you are miserable because…?"

A long sigh escaped Robert, and he let his head fall back against the back of the chair, and closed his eyes. "Did I not, at some point in this bloody conversation, say that I did not want to talk about it?"

"You might have mentioned it. However, as you're incapable of rising from that chair, and I'm not leaving until you answer me, you might as well tell me."

"Bloody hell. All right. If you must know, she turned down my proposal."

"What, precisely, did you propose?"

Robert turned his head to glare at him, and instantly regretted the decision. Three Austins swam before him. Slamming his eyes shut again, he muttered, "Marriage."

"And she refused you?"

"I must say, Austin, that note of confused disbelief in your voice is very kind and indeed a balm to my shattered ego. Yes, she refused me. Completely, irrevocably, and really, most emphatically. In fact, the lady wants nothing more to do with me in any fashion at all."

"Did she give you a reason?"

A humorless laugh tumbled from his lips. "A reason? No, she did not offer a reason. She gave me closer to a half-dozen."

"Perhaps given time-"

"No. She made it quite clear that she wants no part of marriage again. To anyone. But most particularly not to me." He tipped the snifter to his lips and drained it. "She's already been married to one criminal, thank you very much."

"You are not a criminal."

"I do not like to think so. However, it has come to my attention, albeit a bit too late, that committing a crime does indeed make one a criminal. Even if it happened years ago and reparations have been made. Quite the slap on the arse, that realization, I assure you."

He felt Austin's hand grasp his shoulder. Prying his eyes open, he saw Austin leaning forward in his chair, his face unmistakably serious in the shadows.

"I'm sorry, Robert. I know how much it hurts when you believe the woman you love does not return your feelings."

"I appreciate the sentiment, brother. But you have no bloody idea. Elizabeth adores you."

"I did not always know that."

"That is because you are slow-witted."

"Then it clearly is a family trait, because you suffer from it as well. Indeed, you are more severely afflicted than I."

Robert shot him the most frigid glare he could manage. "No need to look so bloody happy about it. And what does that mean anyway?"

"It means that Mrs. Brown is obviously miserable and distraught. If she did not harbor feelings for you-strong feelings-then why would she be so upset? If she felt nothing for you, she would have refused you, then simply put the matter out of her head."

"I never said she felt nothing for me. Unfortunately her feelings run the gamut from disappointment to disgust." He leaned toward Austin and nearly toppled from the chair. "Bitter letdown, as I'd been hoping for love and devotion."

Austin shook Robert's shoulder with a vehemence that rattled his teeth and set up an unholy pounding in his temples. "Listen to me, you daft sot," Austin said. "I'm telling you that I believe there's a chance she might care for you. As you care for her. It is the only logical explanation for her distress."

"She is distressed because I was not truthful with her. She is distressed by my criminal past."

"Because she cares for you."

"Because I remind her of her dead husband." He frowned. "Before he was dead, of course. And that, I'm afraid, is a very, very bad thing. And not going to vanish like that." He tried to snap his fingers and failed.

"Well, for your sake, I hope you're wrong."

"As do I. But you know how I am always right. Always rather enjoyed that, up 'til now."

Austin stood and held out his hands. "Come on. I'll help you up the stairs."

Grumbling, Robert allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, then flung one arm around Austin's shoulders as the floor shifted. "Bloody hell, who's moving the house?"

Austin wrapped an arm tightly around his waist. Bloody good thing, as his knees felt decidedly wobbly. "You're going to have one hell of a head tomorrow, Robbie my boy."

Robert winced. "Stop yelling."

"I didn't yell." They made their way slowly across the room. "You're most likely not going to remember any of this conversation in the morning."

" 'Course I'll remember. My mind is like a…"

"Sieve?" Austin suggested.

"Exactly!"

"Yes. Well, that being the case, I've two things to tell you."

"Whassat?"

"You're a bloody pain in the arse."

"Why, thank you."

"And I love you."

Robert tried to grin, but his lips seemed to have fallen off. But in the tiny part of his heart that remained intact, for beating purposes only, Austin's words warmed him as nothing else in the past four miserable days had.


********

Michael walked quickly up the gangplank of the merchant brig docked in Dublin, and ran through his litany of calming mantras, bludgeoning back the panic clawing at him. It didn't matter that it was one a.m. and both the sea and the sky would be black. It didn't matter that the brisk wind would bring rough water. It would also bring greater speed. That was all that mattered. Because time was of the essence. He had to reach England as quickly as possible. Then make his way from Liverpool to Bradford Hall-a fifteen-hour journey on horseback, if he was lucky. But he had to get the information he'd learned to Robert. And Mrs. Brown.

He could only pray he wouldn't be too late.


********

Not bothering to cover her night rail with her robe, Allie shuffled across the carpet in her bedchamber toward the window. Pulling back the thick green velvet drapery, she blinked her gritty eyes against the unexpected morning sunlight. Finally the rain had stopped. Finally she would be able to escape this house. Breathe some fresh air that did not contain lingering whiffs of his woodsy scent.

The days following her confrontation with Robert had been the most empty and miserable of her life. And indeed, the most difficult. More so than when David had died and she'd discovered his betrayal. For at least then she had not had to pretend to be happy.