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“How did you meet her?” Thorn shifted a little closer to her.

Lydia took a deep breath, as if it was still difficult for her to think about it. “I stole from the house she used to live in. She was blamed for it and punished.”

Thorn reached out a hand but hesitated. She was tense and on guard. He didn’t want to unsettle her any further, so he returned his hand to his side.

“I helped her escape,” she continued. “And she has proved to be a dear friend, but also a great asset. She is extremely well-educated and possesses a unique talent for copying others’ penmanship rather quickly. That’s how she helped me make a smooth entry into the ton.”

Thorn smiled at her ingenuity. She was very clever, his little Lily, and cunning. Then a thought occurred to him. “How long ago did you enter the ton?”

She hesitated. “Four years.”

Four years? The admission sent him reeling. Four bloody years were lost. Four years of nightmares and despair… And yet, she had been here all along. Why? His throat worked, but no sound emerged, shock rendering him momentarily speechless.

“I was so nervous, so afraid I’d see you again. But you weren’t much part of the ton, so we never met. I saw you once, earlier, though.”

He raised his head in surprise. “When?”

“Just a few months prior to entering the ton.” She grimaced, hands twisting in her lap. “In Rivendale.”

His eyes widened, the memory hitting him like a thunderbolt. Rivendale. He’d thought he saw her there too, but he hadn’t believed his eyes. To think he had been so close… so close to finding her, holding her. “I saw you… It was during the night. I was in a carriage with my sister and her husband. That was really you, wasn’t it?” He still couldn’t believe it. “I thought you were a ghost.”

She didn’t answer, just a pained expression on her face.

“I stopped the carriage. I got out to see if that was truly you. My sister thought I was a madman!”

“I—I hid behind the tree line… I shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but I wanted to see a glimpse of you. It wasn’t a wise decision.”

“No, you shouldn’t have hidden.” His voice hardened slightly, frustration returning. Four blasted years they could have been happy.

“I was angry with you!” she cried. “For years, I thought that you agreed with your father, that you willingly ignored my missives. My mother’s death was still fresh in my mind, and I blamed you.” Her words tumbled out in a rush. “And although a part of me yearned for you, I didn’t know how you’d react to seeing me. The fear, the uncertainty, had conjured up an unfeeling beast in my mind.”

His face contorted in pain, but he couldn’t blame her.

“We can buy a new stone for your mother, honoring her real name,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. “We can fix things. As much as possible. I can help you.”

“You can’t.” She shook her head, pulling away slightly. “I am in deeper trouble now than I have ever been.”

“You are not alone anymore. I am not letting you go.”

“All those things you said back in Wakefield—you were right. And they are more true today than they were before. We don’t belong together.”

“That’s not true.” He grabbed her hand, refusing to let her retreat.

She let out a bitter laugh. “You are a lord. I am a thief. And a notorious one at that. Thanks to Miss Monroe, now everyone knows me for who I am. I can’t stay here anymore. Not as myself, and definitely not as a viscount’s mistress. I need to leave English shores, or I shall be hanged for my sins.”

“Mistress? You would never be a mistress to me. You will be my wife.” His tone was final; it brooked no argument, but of course, she continued to argue.

“Art—”

“No.” He cut her off, squeezing her hand. “I lost you once, and I refuse to lose you again. I have failed you innumerable times before. Let me protect you now.”

“How can you?” Her voice was small, vulnerable.

Thorn frowned in thought. “Tell me what happened with Miss Monroe. What did you take? We can give it back, we can pay reparation—whatever it takes.”

She grimaced, her shoulders tensing. “I didn’t take anything from her. She wanted something that I failed to let go of in time.”

His frown deepened. “What?”