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first.’

      He stiffened slightly, so imperceptibly it almost seemed a trick of the wavering light. He lifted an arrogant brow. ‘And if I told you I did not steal it, would you believe me?’ He leaned one shoulder against the dusty wall, the picture of arrogance and insouciance. The picture of a rogue.

      It was as if he didn’t care if she believed him or not. She glared at him fiercely. ‘If you tell me you are innocent, then, yes, I believe you.’ She realised it was true. Despite everything, she trusted him, as she had trusted few others in her life.

      He stared at her for a long moment as if trying to decide whether or not to believe her. ‘I have a question of my own. Why did you say nothing about your betrothal?’ While the expression was still uncaring, she heard an edge in his voice.

      ‘I had no idea it would be announced tonight.’

      ‘That wasn’t my question.’

      How could she possibly explain? ‘I’m not going to marry my cousin Simon.’

      ‘You’ll forgive me if I say the arrangements looked pretty firm from where I was standing.’

      ‘How could I denounce poor Simon in front of all those people? I couldn’t make him a laughing stock, even if he is an idiot.’

      ‘Poor Simon indeed.’ The corner of his lip lifted in a mocking smile. ‘When did you plan to tell him of his cuckolding, before or after the wedding?’

      A trickle of shame slid through her belly. He must have seen it in her eyes because his smile grew all the more cynical.

      ‘Why are you being so horrid?’ she said.

      ‘Am I being horrid? Then run away, Frederica.’ He jerked his chin. ‘Back to your noble friends. To your betrothed. You should not be here with the likes of me.’

      She gasped.

      A shadow passed across his eyes. Bleakness. The announcement of her betrothal must have hurt him. Could that be reason enough for theft? So he could depart Wynchwood with money in his pocket? Lord, she hoped not.

      ‘I told them repeatedly I would not marry my cousin. But they wouldn’t listen.’

      ‘Really.’ He tilted his head, his dark eyes intent on her face. His jaw flexed. ‘Did you think to use me to make them change their minds? Tell them I’d stolen your virtue?’

      She winced. Put like that it sounded cold and calculating. Still, he deserved the truth. ‘I thought of it afterwards. And only as a last resort.’

      He flattened his back against the wall and stared up into the dark above his head. ‘Do you think it will work?’ He sounded dreadfully tired.

      She stooped and set the candle on the floor. ‘Actually, no. I have another plan.’ She reached into her pocket and pulled the knife she’d taken from the kitchen out of her pocket. ‘I’m booking a passage for Florence.’

      He looked down at the knife and up at her face. ‘Italy? Was that where you wanted to go when you asked me to run away with you?’ He sounded bemused.

      ‘An art teacher I’ve been writing to has offered to take me as a student if he likes my work. We could go together.’ She shrugged as if it didn’t matter either way. ‘If you wanted to.’ She didn’t want him to know how hurt she’d been at his rejection. ‘Turn around. Let me set you free. If they find you guilty, they will hang you.’

      He jerked his hands from behind his back. ‘I used the shovel to cut the rope.’

      The lace at his wrist was black and bloody. ‘And hurt yourself in the process.’

      ‘It’s nothing. You should go now before someone finds you here.’

      ‘But what will you do?’

      His face became grim. ‘I need to speak to Maggie.’

      Something sharp pierced her ribs at the familiar name. ‘You do know her.’

      He cursed under his breath ‘Yes. I do. And I didn’t steal her damned jewels.’

      ‘Then why say nothing?’

      He cracked a bitter laugh. ‘You don’t want to know.’ He grasped her shoulders and turned her around, pushed her towards the door. ‘It’s time you left.’

      He preferred Lady Caldwell’s help to hers. The realisation cut her to the quick. And he still hadn’t given her any answers. She whirled around. ‘I’m not going until you tell me what is going on. What is Lady Caldwell to you?’

      The Robert she knew seemed to disappear; another man, relaxed, charming, at ease, took shape before her. He had a dangerous smile on his lips. A smile warm enough to melt a woman’s heart. Another woman’s heart, for this was not her Robert.

      He raised a cocky brow. ‘Little girl, you couldn’t get much closer than Maggie and me at one time.’

      ‘Lovers.’

      He bowed. ‘A gentleman never tells.’

      The pain almost knocked her off her feet. She clenched her hands, felt the skin tighten over her knuckles and the breath held in her chest like a hard lump of coal. She forced herself to ignore it, to focus on his words, not her hurt. ‘And yet you stole her necklace?’

      ‘Let it lay, Miss Bracewell. Forget we ever met. Get married. Have children. Or go to Italy if you must. Be happy, but for God’s sake go.’ He turned away, his shoulders set and stiff as if he was angry. But the note in his voice wasn’t anger, it was bleakness.

      ‘You are a gentleman, aren’t you?’

      ‘Once. No more.’

      ‘How can that be?’

      ‘I did something dishonourable. I seduced a lady and refused to wed her.’

      The words hung in the damp, coal-dust-laden air.

      Robert had never said those words out loud. Never. They were like daggers to his heart, nails in his coffin. But as she’d gazed at him with hope in her eyes, he knew he didn’t have the right to drag her down into the hell-pit that was now his life. Better she hate him than follow him into the abyss.

      He turned, expecting to see disgust in her elfin face. Instead he saw puzzlement.

      ‘W-why?’

      The stutter was back, betraying her nerves. Good. She should be nervous. ‘I didn’t want to get married.’

      ‘Oh.’ She looked shocked.

      As well she might. He took a deep breath and found his chest tight. ‘I am a rake.’

      ‘But not a thief.’

      ‘No, but nor am I a good man. And after tonight I will be a wanted criminal.’

      ‘But you didn’t take the necklace. They have to tell the truth.’

      He shook his head, his throat too full of something hot and hard for speech.

      A fissure cracked in the ice that seemed to encircle his heart. The pain of it sent him spinning away, made his eyes blur, his heart feeling too large for his chest. It was as if the coal piled at the end of the cellar had been lifted from his shoulders and been put back where it belonged. She trusted him.

      He grabbed her shoulder. Tipped her chin so he could look in her eyes. ‘Don’t get involved.’

      ‘Then stand up for yourself, R-Robert.’

      ‘The evidence is against me, I’m afraid. Who will believe me, a gamekeeper against a peer of the realm?’

      She winced. ‘How did the necklace get in your pocket?’

      All questions he’d asked himself. He took a deep breath. ‘I believe Lullington put it there.’

      ‘Because he hates you. I saw it

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