Page 117 of The Earl She Once Saved

Her eyes flared at him. “To discover whether he had been lying to me.”

“And when you found no letters, you continued.”

“I found enough.”

“You found private sketches that concern no one but me.”

“They are my face.”

“They are charcoal and paper.”

“No.” Verity held up the first portrait. “This was me. You drew the lamp, the table, even the tear in my apron.”

He shrugged. “I possessed a good memory.”

“For everything except leaving the folio in your chest?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “You had no right to see it.”

“No,” she confessed. “I did not.”

Her agreement was more cutting than denial. She placed the portrait upon the desk, protecting it from the disorder of the carpet.

“I am sorry I searched your room.”

She moved toward the door. Rafe stepped into her path. Sergeant rose.

Verity stopped less than an arm’s length away. “Will you prevent me from leaving now?”

“No.”

“Then move.”

He should have done so.

Instead, he heard himself speak. “You came here expecting to find proof that I was conspiring with Roland.”

“I came expecting to find another secret.”

“And you were determined to make one if none existed?”

Her eyes flashed. “You met my husband behind my back.”

“To keep him away from you.”

“You do not get to use that as an excuse each time your conduct is questioned.”

“I have apologized.”

“And that restored my trust, did it?”

Rafe’s temper rose because fear stood beneath it. “Trust does not ordinarily involve breaking into another person’s room.”

“The door was not locked.”

He spread his arms wide as he spoke. “Then by all means, search the entire house.”

“I searched your things because you gave me reason to doubt you.”