Page 75 of Cold November Rake

"And you weren't going to warn me." He folded his arms across his chest.

"I was, I promise. But with everything going on, I simply forgot."

"You forgot that the lover who caused a rift in our marriage was coming to our home."

She flinched, and her heart gave a sharp ache.

"Forgive me," he whispered.

"No, you are right." She nodded. "I know it is not an adequate explanation, but I did simply forget."

He shook his head, staring at the list of suspects. "It cannot be a coincidence that the attacks began after you arrived."

She stared at him, stung. "Are you implying that I had something to do with it?"

"No." He pushed a hand through his hair, leaving it wilder than before. He stalked to the window and stood with his back to her, his hands braced on the sill. "Of course not. But with me gone, you would be free to be with him."

"I have not spoken to him or written to him in over seven years," she said, her voice shaking. "I doubt he wants me."

"And you? Do you want him?" He did not turn around.

Temperance set down the pencil, stood, and crossed the room to him.

"Of course not. He is married, and so am I."

"You told him," Sutton said quietly, to the rain-streaked glass, "that you would never love another the way you loved him."

Her heart gave another sharp ache.

He remembered the words. Of course he did. He remembered them exactly.

"I was young and foolish," she said, and her voice cracked. "I apologized for that lapse. For hurting you. I have spent the last seven years apologizing to you."

"Is that what you call it?"

Her heart squeezed. He still had not forgiven her for her youthful foolishness. "I thought we were past this."

"So did I." His voice was very low.

Temperance took a deep breath and laid her fingers on his forearm.

"What would it take," she said softly, "for you to forgive me?"

"I have forgiven you."

"It does not seem like it."

He shook his head, a humorless laugh escaping him. He turned from the window to face her.

"You must understand," he said, his voice changing, growing quieter and more careful, "that I fell in love with you the day I met you. Head over heels. Completely. Irreversibly."

Irreversibly.

Did it mean what she thought it meant? That he loved her still?

Temperance held perfectly still, afraid that even a breath would send the thought scattering.

"And then I heard what you said to him." He looked down at the floor between them. "I was angry. I was heartbroken. I left you at Sutton Hall because I could not bear to look at you. But I cooled. I went back to apologize." His mouth twisted. "And found an empty house, and a note saying you would not live in exile, that you were going to the Continent. I waited a few months for my pride to heal. And I wrote to your aunt. I was ready to be your husband again. I was going to swallow every scrap of pride and come after you." He breathed out. "But by then you had left Florence. You were traveling the world, and every letter I heard of spoke of your suitors, and how much you were enjoying yourself."