Page 106 of The Earl She Once Saved

The words struck cleanly. Rafe’s body betrayed him before his face could prevent it. Something tightened through his shoulders, and his breath stopped for half a second.

“She is still his wife,” Rafe said.

“Yes.” The agreement held no comfort.

Rafe bent his head. “He claims he came back for her.”

“Do you believe him?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“He says he loves her.”

Ezra gave a low, humorless laugh. “Men say many things when they want possession restored to them.”

“Perhaps he believes it.”

“Does that make it less dangerous?”

Rafe remembered the easy penitence in Roland’s voice and the cold watchfulness beneath it. “No.”

“Then why are we discussing his feelings?”

Rafe heard his own next words before he could stop them. “Because what man could fail to love her?”

Silence followed. The scent of crushed lavender drifted from the border. Somewhere beyond the trees, rooks rose from a field with a beating of wings.

Ezra did not smile. He did not make the answer easier by pretending not to understand it. Rafe looked at him and saw no surprise there. That was almost unbearable.

“You have known,” he said.

“I have eyes,” Ezra smiled. “You look at her as though saying nothing requires considerable effort.”

Rafe turned away sharply. He should have denied it. He should have spoken of duty, gratitude or the peculiar intimacy of two people trying to keep the same house from ruin.

All of it would have been true. None of it would have been the truth.

For a moment, Ezra said nothing. Then, his gaze moved toward the house. “I do not speak without some knowledge of the difficultly,” he revealed. “At present, there is a considerable wall between what I feel and what I may honorably do about it.”

Rafe followed his gaze. Win stood behind one of the drawing-room windows, gathering abandoned cups from a table. The glass caught the setting sun, laying pale fire across her face. She looked up as though she felt his attention. For an instant, neither moved. Then Win lowered her eyes and carried the tray away.

Ezra’s hand settled more heavily upon his cane.

“She has her position,” he said. “I have mine. There are things affection does not give a man the right to disturb.”

Rafe studied him. “And yet you mean to ask her to London.”

A shadow of surprise crossed Ezra’s face. “Who told you that?”

“No one.”

“Then you have acquired eyes after all.”

Despite himself, Rafe almost smiled. It vanished quickly.

“I am not counselling you to act,” Ezra continued. “Nor am I telling you that wanting excuses anything. I am only telling you that I know the weight of standing upon the proper side of such a wall.”